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chocolatechipkiki · 1 year

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Drunken Love, Sober Realizations

Drunk!Loki x Fem!Reader

Smut

Warnings: PinVSex, Female!ReceivingOral, Drunk Sex, Forming Stockholm Syndrome, Pressured Sex, Mocking (As always, let me know if I missed any!)

Summary: This one is a part of a larger storyline, so understand that there's some missing context I will try my best to explain lol. Loki is not very nice in this story - he kidnapped you and he's been manipulating you into becoming his personal right hand woman and secret assassin. He treats you like you have no say in anything, more or less like a slave. He had been training you earlier that day and you were learning quickly in the matters of simple spell-casting. Afterwards he suggested eating dinner together in the dining hall to celebrate your new "partnership" and he had been oddly nice to you all day. So, that's where this part starts.

*****

Loki turns and begins walking at a fast pace, beckoning you to follow. "I am famished," he says, smiling. "Shall we dine together for a change?" You race after him, your growling stomach forcing an agreement out of your mouth before you can protest.

The two of you make your way to the dining hall in silence, your mind still reeling from the excitement of the day. You were learning magic, and you were having fun. Loki stops one of the waitstaff to inform them of your culinary needs, and then turns to you. He grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers together and pulling you along to the table to sit together. You flinch at his touch initially, but soon your heart begins to flutter in your chest, much to your dismay. You can't like him, he's only been nice to you for less than a day. It would be absurd to even think thoughts along those lines about him. You take your seat and Loki conjures up one of the bottles of signature Asgardian red wine along with two glasses. You raise an eyebrow at him.

"You're going to allow me to drink with you?" you ask, aware of his ability to poison you. He only pours two glasses and chuckles softly, as if reading your thoughts. Or maybe just your expression of pure bewilderment.

"It's not poisoned, Sweetling," he says, taking a sip from his glass and then raising it to clink with yours. You shrug your shoulders and tap your glass to his. He smiles and speaks quietly enough that only you can hear him - not that any of the waitstaff were paying the two of you any mind. "To a new partnership. I have such high hopes for you, and I hope you do not disappoint me."

Several kitchen staff bring out trays of food and place them before you on the table. Your eyes widen at the decadent and exotic choices crowding every inch of wood, and you fill your plate with a little bit of everything. But when you lift your fork to your lips to indulge in the beautiful taste, Loki smacks your hand.

"I don't believe you asked for permission to eat yet, pet," he says simply. You scoff and cross your arms.

"Are you serious?" you ask, not entirely surprised, but still annoyed nonetheless.

Loki chuckles deeply, his eyes shining with amusement. "Oh dearest, I'm only joking... mostly," he says, taking his own bite of food with a mocking grin plastered upon his face. "You are free to do whatever you wish, as long as I see something in you. The flame of curiosity, the burning passion for knowledge and discovery... That is what will drive you to master magic. To master all magic."

You pick up another fork and take a bite of your food, listening to his words. You smile after you swallow and feel yourself loosen up a bit. "Oh, you'll never see me not have the drive to learn. If there's one thing my family would say about me, it's that I'm always curious." You chuckle as you take another forkful of food. The atmosphere of the conversation almost feels normal. As if you were but two lovers celebrating with a feast and talking of your future. You can't help but smile at the warmth in your body at Loki's newfound kindness for you, and you wonder if maybe there's more to him than you originally thought.

"Your curiosity will be your best friend," Loki says after a long drawl of his wine. "And what better teacher could you have than the God of Mischief and the Prince of Lies, after all?" His voice drips with playful sarcasm and he laughs lightly.

You giggle along with him, enjoying yourself for the first time since being kidnapped by him. You continue to eat, and a question forms in your mind. "Loki... Why do you always wear green and gold?"

He gives you a look of genuine pleasure at your curiosity. "People don't often ask me that. But I shall indulge your question, since you are supposed to be learning from me." He turns to face you and points to different parts of his clothing as he speaks. "The green and gold of my clothing are meant to symbolize the green of the forest and the gold of the sun. It is to show that I am an equal force of nature, just as nature is neither good nor evil, but simply chaotic."

You smile and lean back in your chair, satisfied with his answer. "I like that," you say quietly before burying your face into your food again. Loki blinks at you in surprise for a moment, then quickly takes another drawn out sip of his wine to hide his smile. He quickly deflects from himself, though, not wanting to be the center of conversation.

"Your curiosity is as strong as your hunger," he says with a mocking grin as he pours himself another glass of the red liquid.

You attempt to ignore his insult, taking it as a deflection from your compliment. Something tells you he doesn't get complimented a lot, and you make a mental note to do it more often. You watch as he pours himself another glass of wine. "You know, red wine actually has medicinal properties," you say matter-of-factly.

"Is that so?" he asks, his voice dripping with mock curiosity. "Please do tell me more. Do said medicinal properties outweigh the negatives?"

You catch onto his sarcasm as you set your now empty bowl down and cross your arms. "You know, it wouldn't hurt to be genuine and nice every once in a while," you say, glaring in the opposite direction. You feel your mood turning sour at his switch up back to cruelty towards you.

Loki only smirks, which irritates you more. "Would you like me to be nice?" he asks, and for a moment you think he's being genuine. But before you can respond, he continues. "No, no. That's a silly notion. You see, being nice is boring and predictable, my dear pet." He leans back in his chair, sipping from his glass. "I prefer to keep my victims guessing," he says, something sinister in his tone.

"Being nice is not boring. It's a long term investment into the well being of another life." You scoff. "Not that you'd know anything about caring for another life," you add in a cluster of mumbles.

Loki's smirk deepens at your comment. "I am a god, Darling. Caring for the well being of others is an optional decision I can make if I feel like it. And if you hadn't noticed, I don't do things unless there's something in it for me."

You shove your chair back from the table, having heard enough. A few nearby heads turn as you stand. "Well, maybe there doesn't always have to be something in it for you, my dearest Prince," you mock. You then turn on your heels and stomp out of the dining hall and to your chambers, muttering to yourself the entire way.

***

In your chambers, you pace back and forth in anguish at Loki's salty attitude. You pick up a pillow from your bed and squeeze it. "How could he stand to be so... so... annoying?" you say as you throw the pillow. It doesn't land very far, so you kick it across the room aggressively, and it lands with a soft thud. "Stars, and to think he was actually beginning to like me," you say, throwing yourself onto your bed, not bothering to undress. You bury your face into the pillow, embarrassment and anger flooding your mind. You stay like that, fuming for a long while.

Suddenly, you hear a gentle knock on the door that connects yours and Loki's chambers. You sit up but don't move, unsure really if you even heard anything.

"Are you in there, my sweet?" Loki says from behind the door, his voice slurring slightly and sounding more foolish than sinister. His mouth is turned up into a sloppy smile as he twists and presses his back to the door. He seems in a somewhat strange mood, as his normally cold and menacing tone seems to have been replaced by an almost silly version of himself that slurs his words like a drunkard. His face sways from side to side as he steadies himself.

You call from your bed. "What do you want?"

There is a short pause as Loki processes your words. "I have a craving for your sweet, sweet embrace," he drawls, tapping the door with his knuckles in no coherent pattern. "Do give me your embrace, my love."

You sit up, confusion running through your mind. Is he drunk? you wonder, stepping out of your bed and walking up to the door cautiously. You lean your forehead against it. "But I thought I was just your slave, hm? I'm pretty sure slaves don't embrace their masters."

"That is fair... But there is a fine line between a slave and a loved woman. I can be very persuasive," he says. You hear him shift on the other side of the door and his voice is clearer now. "I will make you crave me. And when you do, I will make sure you never want to let go." A pause, and then his voice again, lower. "Do you want to let go, my love?"

You barely understand his nonsense, and you frustratedly open the door. "What are you going on about?" you ask as you take in the sight of him. The smell of wine wafts off of him strongly, and he stands hunched over, wobbly and giddy. He most certainly is very drunk.

He looks at you, some semblance of a giggle escaping his lips. His drunken silliness gets even worse now that he sees you, yet you can hear something sinister still in his laugh. He steps inside the door and leans upon the door frame, still towering over you despite the hunch. "Ah... Much better," he says, looking down into your eyes. "Now, do you know how to cook?"

You blink up at him, eyes furrowed in confusion. "Do I... know how to cook?" you repeat. "Why?"

He steps closer to you and leans against the table beside you, his smirk growing wider as he speaks. "I could do with a nice warm snack. Why don't you make me something, little pet?" he slurs, now grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him. "Just imagine, me drinking from your lovely lips and savoring your home cooked meal... How does that sound?"

You tense at his touch, but look into his dilated pupils with concern. "I-I can cook, but only Midgardian food..." you say, trying to get out of his grasp. He doesn't let go.

"Midgardian food? Well, then you'll need to show me, won't you?" he asks, leaning down and whispering in your ear. "Maybe it will teach me the value in caring for another's well being, you know? Someone told me I should start doing that..." He licks his lips, drunken desire in his eyes. "Oh, come on now... Give me a lil' taste of your lips..."

You successfully free yourself from his grasp and take a few steps back. "Look, Loki, you're clearly drunk," you say, holding your hands up as if to keep an invisible barrier between the two of you. "I doubt you'd say anything like this otherwise..."

"Oh?" He quirks his eyebrow up. "You think I must be drunk to crave your embrace?" He steps towards you slowly, looking more and more like a predator stalking its prey, and you mirror his movements, taking steps away from him. "Perhaps you're a little more important to me than you think," he says with a mocking tone before chuckling.

You tilt your head to the side in curiosity before then shaking your head in denial. "N-No... If I were important to you, you wouldn't be mean to me..."

"Oh, would I not?" he slurs, continuing his leisurely pursuit of you. "I would. I would be even crueler to you if you were important to me..." His smile turns a little sinister. "Come on, little pet, just a taste of those luscious lips." He closes the gap between the two of you in a moment, and leans his head down close enough that you breathe in the scent of wine from his breath. Your eyes flicker down to his lips and back up to his blue eyes, wondering if it would be wrong to kiss him in this state. But your body aches for you to close the gap between your faces. Still, you remain frozen to your spot, unable to move, unable to make a decision.

Loki leans in closer, your lips barely apart. His smirk grows wider still as his voice lowers to a whisper. "You know you want it, pet. Why not give in?" He grazes his lips against yours so slightly that a shiver runs down your spine. "Give in to your desires, my love..."

Your eyes flutter shut as you press your lips to his firmly. You kiss him deeply, and his kiss is sloppy in return, his mind unable to keep up with his body. He pulls away slightly for a breath of air and smirks. "Mmm, that's it, little pet. Keep going, don't stop." He laces his fingers into your hair and pulls your head closer, locking your lips together tightly.

Your breath picks up as you kiss him passionately, your heart racing in your chest. You taste the wine on his lips and tongue, and your head spins with the thought that there will be consequences for you in the morning if he remembers this moment. He pulls away from the kiss once more to whisper in your ear.

"You crave my touch, sweetling... My lips, my embrace..." He plants a soft, wet kiss to your neck, causing your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. His hands snake down to yours and he pulls you towards his chambers. "Come now, let me show you how your master really should be treating you."

He drags you into his chambers, continuing to kiss you sloppily until the back of your legs hit the softness of his mattress, and he places one hand to your chest to push you back onto his bed. He waves his hand and both of your clothes disappear. You take a moment to admire his chiseled body, the flames from the candlelight dancing on his pale skin.

He climbs on top of you and leans down to your ear. "Let me teach you your place, pet," he spits. "Let your master treat you right..." He kisses your neck and trails soft nibbles down to your chest while his hands roam your body. You moan softly, your body like lightning under his touch. Even drunk, Loki seems to know how to make you squirm with pleasure, and it's not exactly like you're resisting him. He lifts back up to your face, kissing your lips gently and then pulling away to look into your worried eyes.

"What's wrong, my pet?" he says darkly. "Does this not please you? Or perhaps... I'm still not treating you how I should?" He leans down to your ear again, whispering. "Or perhaps, you're a little frightened, hmm? Is that it?"

You hide your face in your elbow, not wanting him to see your flushed cheeks. He knows how much your body needs him, yet he still mocks you for it. He then proceeds to plant tender, sloppy kisses to your stomach, dropping lower and lower until he spreads your legs apart, and hovers over where you desire it most.

"Oh, do you want me to kiss you here, pet? Is that the way a slave like you should be treated?" he muses, enjoying watching you squirm as his breath tickles your button with agonizingly cool air.

He simply watches you for a moment, enjoying your helplessness. But then he dips his head back down and attacks your swollen nub with his tongue. You moan out as your hips buck forward, his tongue lapping up your folds with dizzying precision, despite his drunken state. Your hands snake their way to his raven hair, grasping with desperation. He stays leaned down to your core, smirking against you as you writhe in pleasure.

"Ohh, it seems like you do enjoy this," he says against you, letting the vibrations of his deep voice add another layer of ecstasy to this moment. "What a good little pet you are..." You moan again, your cunt dripping with desire.

Loki stands suddenly, resenting not relishing in the pleasure with you. Your sweet little sounds having turned him on greatly, so he lines up his rather sizable member with your entrance, grasping your thighs tightly. He thrusts into you without warning, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His previous sentences of cruelty and mocking tones turn to those of love as he pleasures you how you want. He drives his hips into yours with urgency despite his intoxicated state, his dilated pupils flickering in and out. He lifts your legs up and onto his shoulders, hastily planting kisses to your calf as his breath grows shallow. You feel your eyes shut at the overwhelming satisfaction of being filled overcomes you.

"Do you want this little pet?" he asks, his voice strained but no longer mocking. You nod, throwing your head back to moan out again as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. "Oh, you're such a good girl, my love. I couldn't ever deny you of this bliss." He pauses, climbing up onto the bed with you, pushing your legs forward, which only garners an inhuman noise to be ripped from your chest because somehow, he's getting deeper than he was before. He whispers now. "You're so good for me... So good... Your master is happy, sweet pet... Oh, you make me so happy..."

Your hands find his black strands again and yank him down to connect your lips, kissing passionately as his thrusts get more desperate. The familiar buildup in your core tightens as your climax nears. Your heart flutters as Loki kisses you, your tongues dancing in each other's mouths lovingly. After a moment, he breaks the kiss to look down into your wide eyes and flushed cheeks, smiling dearly before his eyes flutter shut with a low groan. "Oh, my sweet submissive pet... You don't know it but I think I am already in love with you..." he says breathily. Your heart swells at his words. "Stars, I love seeing you like this... I think... I think I'll keep you." His words still slur together, but you don't care anymore. Nothing in the world matters more than this moment of ecstasy shared between the two of you.

You moan out his name as your climax crashes through you, digging your nails into his back aggressively enough to draw blood. His chuckles are broken by his moans as he continues to pound into you, loving your aggression and chasing his own climax. Your cunt clenches around his cock, making his eyes roll into his head at the pleasure. "Yes, my love! Scream my name as I claim you as mine own. Beg for my sweet nectar to fill you. Beg!"

You comply in your state of pure bliss, mind foggy as you beg for him to come inside you. His pace falters rather quickly and with a shuddering groan, he releases his seed inside you, leaning his head down to nibble your neck. His slowing pace makes little shivering aftershocks of pleasure run through you before he finally stops. Loki leans his head on your shoulder as he lets out a deep sigh. He pulls his softening cock out of you and releases your legs. He then places a finger under your chin and lifts it, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Oh, my beautiful little angel... We just proved how well we are together..." he muses. You smile sheepishly, feeling the back of your neck heat up as his words sink in. "Come, my love... Admit that you love me," he says, smirking down at you all the same.

"L-Love?" you repeat, the word foreign on your tongue in reference to him. "I-I don't... I could never..." you trail off, wriggling out from underneath him and sitting up. He is unsteady on his hands, his intoxication making him more loving than he's ever been. It sort of freaks you out. "I should probably go to bed..."

Loki sighs, rolling over onto his back and speaking towards the ceiling. "Why must you refuse me after I gave you such a good time?" He tilts his head down, smiling menacingly at you again. "You crave my love, it's so obvious. Just admit it. Now."

"Loki, you're still drunk..." you whisper, slightly afraid of upsetting him. You scoot off the bed and try to walk towards the door to your chambers, but Loki grabs your wrist and looks up at you with a sad and hurt expression before letting out a noise reminiscent of whining.

"Please don't leave me here, pet... Don't leave me alone," he whispers. You look down into his pleading eyes. His exhausted, drunken state must be making him lucid or something. He looks genuinely afraid of being left there alone, and something tugs at your heart as he speaks again, his brows furrowed together in worry. "Please, my love. I need you here..."

You feel torn inside. He sounds so genuine, and your heart yearns to hold him. But he's your captor... The one keeping you here against your will. You shouldn't want to please him, or show him mercy. Is it right to give him anything when he's treated you so badly? Still, your heart wins over your mind and you sigh as you pull the blanket up over him and slide underneath it next to him. You pull his head to your chest and massage his scalp with your fingers. "Shh, I'm not leaving you," you whisper.

He groans with pleasure at your nails through his hair, his eyes fluttering shut. His sleepy voice reaches your ears. "Oh, my sweet kitten, I am so glad I have you in my life," he says, relaxing into your arms. Your hand moves to caress his cheek and you take in his features beneath you. His strong jawline, the worry lines on his forehead, his long eyelashes, those pink lips, still swollen from kissing. His breathing slows as he leans further into you, and you notice that despite the session you two just had, his body is cool compared to yours, and you begin relaxing as well.

You can't help but feel something inside you changing. He is your captor, yes, but maybe he's only doing this because he is lonely. You remember your mother telling you that drunk words are more genuine because the barrier that stops you from saying what is on your mind is broken down when intoxicated. So was Loki telling you the truth? Had he fallen in love with you in the short time you had been forced to let him in?

Your brain wanders to alternate universes - ones where you didn't meet Loki in this way, and you two actually fall in love. You drift into a dreamy sleep as Loki snakes his arms around your middle.

The two of you sleep like that in his bed, in his personal chambers - in each other's arms.

*****

A/N: So! That's that. Let me know if you guys like drunk Loki lol, I have a LOT of ideas in that department. But he's so precious, even he can't stop himself from being loving to you forever ahhhh. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed that one, ya nasties XD Nah I'm kidding, that one was actually pretty vanilla compared to a lot of the other things I write.

#loki #loki x reader #loki oneshot #dom!loki #loki smut #loki one shot #loki smutshot

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jhye-lee · 1 year

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Taboo - The Prologue

CONTAINS SPOILER FROM SHIBUYA ARC TO CHAPTER 236!

Genre: Angst, Drama

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!OC

ta·boo

/təˈbo͞o/

noun

a social or religious custom prohibiting or forbidding discussion of a particular practice or forbidding association with a particular person, place, or thing.

┌───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┐

Takase Hyori, the heir of the house Takase, the oldest sorcerer family in Japan. Blessed with the ability to manipulate the time, Hyori became one of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers.

But even with the power she has, she failed to protect her friends. Drown in despair, she breaks the Taboo.

└──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┘

Whispers.

She heard so many whispers.

She tried to open her eyes but to no avail. The whispers became clearer to her ears. They said her name, the curse that has wreaked havoc on Shibuya, the question of what they should do; over and over again. She couldn’t help but wonder. Did she manage to save Kento? What about Yuuta, Maki, Toge and Panda, her pupils? What about Satoru now? Has anyone succeeded in unsealing him? Then she heard her best friend, Ieri Shoko’s voice. Closer and closer.

“…ri.”

“…ori.”

“HYORI!”

The light that welcomed her back to her consciousness feels so bright that it makes her close her eyes again immediately. “Thank God you’re finally awake. Are you feeling hurt anywhere? Are you feeling dizzy or nauseous? I need to have a thorough check on you.” Shoko babbled in a shaky voice. What happened? Hyori blinked her eyes slowly until her eyes could adjust to the blinding light. “Shoko.”

“Yes yes. I’m here.” Shoko held her right hand immediately. “Shoko.” She called her name again. Her voice sounded so hoarse and weak that she barely recognized it. “I’m here Hyori.” Shoko said once again. Slowly, Hyori turned her head to face the female doctor. A lot must have happened. Her eye bags become darker than she remembered and she is crying. How long had she been unconscious?

“Shoko don’t cry.'' She pulled her hand from Shokos’s and wiped her tears. Her cries started to cease. It hurt to see her like this and she wasn't even there for her. “How long has I been unconscious?” Hyori asked. The doctor seems a little hesitant to answer. “It’s been two months.”

Two months.

“How is Kento?” Hyori asked. “He’s fine. Thank you. He told us what you’ve done. He’s the one who brought you to us. Do you know how scared I was when he brought you all bloodied?”

Hyori managed a weak smile. Thank God he’s okay. And it seems that she’s fine despite doing what she’s been forbidden to do by her family. “I don’t know you can do that. Bring back the dead, I mean.” Shoko said. “I didn’t bring him back from dead Shoko. I’m no God.”

Shoko’s face looked confused but then a second later a realization came to hit her. “Yes. I reverse the time on his body only.” Hyori answered Shoko’s invisible question. “And it seems that I just suffered some internal injury because of it.” Hyori concluded.

“Idiot. What do I do if you’re not here? I don’t want to be left alone.” Shoko bowed her head down; her body started to shake. Horror started to wrap around her head. Yes, the three of them lost to Suguru. But if she’s dead after reviving Kento, Shoko still has Satoru. Unless…

“Where is Satoru?”

Shoko looks at her with horror in her face.

“Shoko, where is Satoru?” No answer. “He’s still in that damn box, isn’t he?”

Still no answer.

“Shoko!”

“He’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone? Is he missing or something? Did the box get lost somewhere? Where is he, Shoko? Where is Satoru? I need to see him. I can reverse the time on the box. I-I-I can save him, Shoko. Where is he?”

“HE IS DEAD HYORI GOD DAMNIT! SUKUNA KILLED HIM! AND YOU CAN’T SAVE HIM!”

Satoru wouldn’t die. He was the strongest. He likes to joke around but this is too far. Satoru wouldn’t leave her, he promised. “He promised.”

“He promised Shoko. He promised that he’ll be okay. He’s the strongest.” A shock ran through her head. The possibility of losing Satoru forever was so dreadful. With a shaky hand, Hyori pulled the IV from her left hand and then pushed her body from the bed. “What are you doing?” Shoko’s voice laces with panic. “I need to see him. I can save him. He needs me. Take me to him please.”

When she took one step forward, her legs wobbled so much that she almost fell to the cold ceramic floor. But Shoko held her and hugged her hard. “Hyori please. You can’t do anything. He’s gone.” Shoko cried. “I can save him Sho. Trust me.” Hyori tried to assure her best friend. She hugged her and patted her back.

“Please take me to him.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When Shoko told her that she can’t do anything, she meant no joke. In front of her is the picture of her white-haired blue eyed guy that she loved the most in this damn world. Beside the pictures there’s an urn. The darn higher ups had burn his body to ashes so that there will be no curse who uses his body like how Kenjaku uses Suguru. “They cremate him.”

A laugh escaped for her pale lips. A laugh that could even make the sun cry. “How am I supposed to save him now Sho?” She asked in between her laugh.

Hyori stood from the wheelchair that she used to get to the room where they store Satoru’s ashes. Her legs are so weak that she fell immediately in front of his urn. She took the white urn and hugged it tightly to her chest. Her laugh turned into a tsunami of tears. “How am I supposed to live without him?”

Her cries echoed in the room that attracted other people to come. Shoko hugged her. “Shh. I’m here Hyori.” Shoko whispered to her.

Her world had crumbled into ashes along with him. Without him, her world was just so bleak that it had no meaning left. Why should she exist without him?

“Who?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who killed him Shoko? I need to know.” Hyori asked.

“Was it Kenjaku?”

A pause, long enough to make Hyori want to just kill every curse she met. “It’s Sukuna,” another pause, “He takes over Fushiguro’s body.”

Hyori turned her head and looked at Shoko with horror. “He did what?” Not Megumi. Not him. “He used Fushiguro’s body as his vessel.” Shoko explained.

A sinister chuckle escaped her lips. He took Satoru from her, she wouldn’t let him took anyone again. “I just need to forcefully takes out his fucking finger, don’t I?”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

One thing that Shoko knew for sure is that her three best friends were bat shit crazy and they never cared about her; not even once. Before her eyes, Hyori’s body laid on the ground; bloody and pale. She’s still breathing but Shoko wasn’t sure that she would ever open her eyes again with this condition. After Hyori saved Nanami, her body was already severely injured internally. She heard once about Hyori’s family taboo. The Takase family was the oldest jujutsu sorcerer and they were granted the power to manipulate time as their curse technique.

Not many people know about Takase family technique. Shoko knew because Hyori told Satoru, Suguru and her. Hyori was a very powerful sorcerer, the strongest between the four of them actually. She could stop time. In people’s eyes, it seemed like she had the power to teleport but in fact she stopped time. Also Hyori could fast-forward the time on anything and anyone that she touched with her curse power and make them aged then decayed.

Shoko asked her once if she could also reverse the time just to heal a wound or something. Hyori told her that she could do that but with her life as the price.

Not a single soul except the Takase’s and the three of them who had the knowledge of her curse technique and now everyone knew. It’s all because she reversed the time on Fushiguro Megumi’s body and forced Sukuna’s finger out from the boy's body. Takase Hyori had nothing to lose now and it made her even scarier than anything. Shoko hoped that Hyori would at least consider staying alive for her. But it seemed that between the four of them, she would always be an outsider.

The other sorcerer collected Sukuna’s finger and sealed it back while Shoko sat beside her one and only best friend trying to heal her as much as she could.

She didn't know anything about the taboo. Hyori reversed the time twice and it wrecked her body. She didn’t know how to save her. “Sho…ko…”

“Hyori! Stay with me!” Shoko tried harder to heal her. “I’m so..rry.” Hyori said barely a whisper. Blood came out from her nose and mouth. “Thank… you.”

And with that, Shoko was the only one left of the four who would carry all the memories and sorrow for the rest of her life.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

There’s a taboo in her family that should not be broken no matter what. At the brilliant age of 18 years old, Takase Hyori almost broke the Taboo not long after the announcement of Suguru's execution. But Satoru stopped her. He said that Suguru is his precious friend but Hyori was his lifeline that he couldn’t live without; just as he was to her. They were each other's lifeline.

Now he’s gone. There’s no reason for her to live anymore. She saved Megumi, hopefully. If only she had more strength left within her, she’ll turn back the time, to where everything went wrong. She once read in her family history book that someone in their family was said to be able to reverse the time to years back as much as the kindness they sowed in their life.

Hyori tried to do that, to be kind for her whole life so that if someday she needed it, she could use the forbidden technique. If somehow God really exists, if somehow her prayers reached heaven, just this one time. She’d give up her body, her soul, everything.

If God did exist, with her last strength, she wants to return to that time, so that she could everyone even if her life would be the price.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Time stands still

thy touch endues end

return back thou shall not

for the heaven shall wot

and thou remain no moe.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x oc #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo fic #angst #short fiction #gojo satoru x oc #ieri shoko

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bluewolven · 2 years

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Beyond the Shadow of Doubt (Read on AO3)

Summary:

The Dwarves told me their previous burglar didn’t work out. So they needed to hire a new one. Coincidentally, I needed money--a lot of it. But there's a part of me I kept hidden from the light of day, a part of me that not even the kindest of Dwarves will overlook. Yet every day I pressed my chances, because I would follow their King to the end of everything.

The Hobbit AU, Thorin Oakenshield x Female OC, First Person POV

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationship(s): Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character

Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Original Female Character(s), Thranduil (Tolkien), Gandalf | Mithrandir, Elrond Peredhel, Bard the Bowman, Thorin's Company, Fíli (Tolkien), Kíli (Tolkien), Balin (Tolkien), Dwalin (Tolkien), Bifur (Tolkien), Bofur (Tolkien), Bombur (Tolkien), Óin (Tolkien), Glóin (Tolkien), Ori (Tolkien), Nori (Tolkien), Dori (Tolkien)

Additional tags: Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, POV First Person, POV Original Female Character, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Thorin Is an Idiot, Character(s) of Color, Romance, Angst, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Implied Kíli/Tauriel, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Additional Warnings In Author's Note

Chapters 1-3 are now live!

#bluewolven ao3 #the hobbit #lotr #thorin oakenshield #trevadril shadesulk #thorin x oc #ao3 #original character #art and whatnot to be added later

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ao3feed-thehobbit · 2 years

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Beyond the Shadow of Doubt

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/dEy3Kkv

by bluewolven

The Hobbit AU, Thorin Oakenshield x Female OC, First Person POV

Words: 11184, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Thorin Oakenshield/Trevadril (oc)

Fandoms: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, POV First Person, POV Original Female Character, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Thorin Is an Idiot, Character(s) of Color, Romance, Angst, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Implied Kíli/Tauriel

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/dEy3Kkv

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #the hobbit

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sakuraswordly · 1 year

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Unsurprisingly, he still remembers his childhood personality or true self before changing to an arrogant king. As you can see in Fate/Extra CCC. King Gilgamesh still remember how he was back then very well if not then how did he tell his story since childhood? Go the same way as Peter Pan. If he did not remember, how Peter told his story and could play with children anyway?

From the beginning, King Gilgamesh was designed to be "perfect" for ruling his kingdom so that makes King Gilgamesh have good memories both physically and mentally. So that means in Tsubasa of Phantasia, if Sonic is based on their childhood personality, that makes scene why both Punch and Gilgamesh can tell what Sonic is trying to do or what he is thinking without talking or being by his side. It's like they can read each other's minds.

This picture is the hint behind why King Gilgamesh sealed away Sonic's past memories.

"He might have even stopped growing" this sentence King Gilgamesh knew how much Sonic loved to be himself. "Friendship is freedom. So you're free to make your own choice" As you can see in Sonic X, Sonic is always himself that's why he can make his own choice.

For him to always make the right decision even one day he needed to fight a person that he didn't want to. Both Punch and King Gilgamesh knew how Sonic is a highly emotional character—far more emotional than many give him credit for. (That's why Sonic is very sensitive heart). This is another reason both Punch and King Gilgamesh seal off Sonic to not read each other's minds with Punch and King Gilgamesh.

As I wrote in Some things are beautiful because they cannot be obtained 1(Tsofph Concept ) and hint. The reason why both Punch and King Gilgamesh understand Sonic and understand each other like reading each other's minds is because Sonic, Punch and Gilgamesh are the same, they are Punch. Just like in Garden of Sinners, Shiki and SHIKI are the same just separate personalities.

Simple imagination: Original Punch had 3 personalities and original Punch split himself into three, Sonic as his childhood personality or his basic personality, Punch as his negative personality and King Gilgamesh as his leadership personality.

Just like in Garden of Sinners, Shiki displays the personalities of SHIKI (織), a male personality customarily called the "yang" personality, and Shiki (式), the female personality called the "yin" personality. Simple imagination: Punch is "yang" personality, and King Gilgamesh is "yin" personality. In Garden of Sinners, SHIKI is the personality that controls the aspect of "Denial/Negativity." He is a lost killer responsible for Shiki Ryougi's destructive impulses. Even though the only emotion that he can feel is "to kill," he despises his own impulses and voluntarily becomes Shiki's subordinate personality. That's the reason behind why Punch hates humans and everything around her by nature, because Punch's "yang" personality is "Denial/Negativity."

As you can see in Kara no Kyoukai: The Garden Of Sinners Chapter 2: Murder Speculation (Part 1). When SHIKI said "Shiki has me. She was isolated, but she wasn't alone.", this is why King Gilgamesh can be alone, he was isolated, but he wasn't alone. He had Punch, that's why for him, Punch is very important to him in Tsubasa of Phantasia. In the same way that Sonic never felt he was alone, he had Punch and Gilgamesh. Sonic was also isolated, but he wasn't alone before he met Tails and Eggman. So explain why Sonic want to approach Punch as you can see in Tsofph season 8(story of daily life).

Also, this is also explained when alone, Sonic tends to talk to himself or will pretend someone else is there/talk to someone/something who can't hear/understand him or respond. Even Sonic couldn't remember Punch and King Gilgamesh but he always knew they were here of all time, that's why he loved to talk to himself. (So that makes Punch and King Gilgamesh love to talk to themself when they are alone too.)

So basically.....Peter's feeling for King Gilgamesh will be like.....

Well....Peter did love Punch anyway 😅

#hint #tsubasa of phantasia #Tsofph Gilgamesh #punch whalen #Still Punch and Gilgamesh are not the same as Shiki and SHIKI but they are hard to describe in words so stop here for now.#If my childhood self glimpsed who I am now...he would've ended his own life #emptiness’ heart #character analysis #Kara no Kyoukai #garden of sinners

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ao3feed-tolkien · 2 years

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Beyond the Shadow of Doubt

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/oGyCVTI

by bluewolven

The Hobbit AU, Thorin Oakenshield x Female OC, First Person POV

Words: 16950, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Thorin Oakenshield/Trevadril (oc)

Fandoms: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/oGyCVTI

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Tolkien works #ao3 #fan fiction

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vxlkyrieee · 3 years

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anemoia

Ororo Munroe x mutant!female!reader

anemoia (noun): nostalgia for a time one has never known.

request: can I request a Storm x mutant! female reader (can hide in shadows and use shadows as portals. she can also become invisible by manipulation of shadows) reader is very closed off and keeps her walls up. she gets hurt one time and storm brings her to safety and helps her heal and they get to know each other. they share their first kiss and go on a date or something. the reader would be very shy but intimidating, closed off, scared of getting hurt, actually really sweet and loves pet naming people she's close to

word count: 2,479

warnings: little bit of angst, social anxiety

The world is full of people who are scared of the dark. It seemed almost like a mockery that the one person who could control it, was afraid of the dark too.

Well, perhaps not literally.

But (y/n) had always known a dark past, one that cut her optimism into minute little pieces. It was hard to open up, even if she wanted to. She was torn really, caught between the mutant and non-mutant world, and she doesn’t know where she fits in. All the mutants she knew seemed to be omnipotent, confident, unwavering. (Y/n) didn’t know if she could be like that. She wanted to fit in, be invisible, normal. And that was one of the many insecurities she lugged along with her, even in the company of her fellow x-men.

Especially Storm.

Storm was always pretty, poised and powerful. When they first met at Xavier’s school, (y/n) didn’t know whether she envied her, or wanted to pluck up enough courage to grab her by the shoulders and kiss her.

Now, the woman the world knows as Storm, is known to (y/n) as simply just “Ori”, the girl that stole her affection. Ororo was easy to be around, with a tranquil aura in spite of her tempestuous repute as a hero.

Barefoot, and holding her combat boots in one hand, Ororo knocks on the door to (y/n)’s room. When there was no answer for a good minute, she gently turned the handle, sliding her body between the door and its frame.

“(Y/n)?”

(Y/n) appears from the shadows in the corner of the room, with a book in hand. She gives Ororo a shy wave and a close-lipped smile.

“There you are! It’s almost time for sparring, last session before the mission,” she informs, placing her boots down to caress (y/n)’s shoulders. (Y/n) hoped to any god out there that Ororo couldn’t feel how flushed her skin was underneath her touch.

“Ready for our breathing exercises?”

(Y/n) nods, moving her hair out of her face.

It had become a sort of ritual for Ororo to stop by and help (y/n) with breathing and stretching before training. Training was not something anyone else would consider a great feat to overcome, however the idea of all eyes on her, made (y/n) uneasy and self-conscious. Being in Ororo’s company almost always guaranteed placidity for (y/n), she was a soft flurry of brisk air on a clear day.

When the two were ready to meet up with the other x-men, they started to leave the room. Until she noticed Ororo’s boots, still sitting by the door.

“Don’t forget your boots, Ori,” (y/n) reminded her, holding the door open.

“No one’s ever called me Ori before you, you know that?” Ororo laughs, taking her boots and pulling them onto her feet. (Y/n) shrugs, lowering her head when her face starts to grow warmer.

“It’s cute. Like you.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widen as she realises what she said. It had just slipped out. If she could go back a few seconds, she’d slap her palm across her mouth to stop Ororo from hearing that comment. It just made her vulnerable. And now Ororo had the upper hand. What’s she gonna say now?

(Y/n)’s state of mind had been that way for a long time. She knew the only way to grow her friendships and truly be a part of the team, was to trust her team mates and disclose her secrets; be an open book, just like they had, but she feared that the most.

With an appreciative smile, Ororo quelled the bubbling anxiety in (y/n)’s belly. “I’m not cute. You’re cute. Let’s go before we’re late,” she cajoled.

***

(Y/n) had never sparred Quicksilver before, and now that she was, she never wanted to do it again. His short bursts of speedy jabs were already bruising her entire body. She had to think of a tactic. And quickly.

Seeing an opportunity, (Y/n) stepped to the side, swooping underneath Peter’s attempted kick. Then taking advantage of how the sun casted a silhouette behind him, she used the shadow as a portal, shoving him to the ground with her foot on his neck.

The Professor claps, then wheels towards the group from where he had been quietly watching.

“Great work, (y/n)! Everyone could learn a bit from her.”

In truth, all the students at Xavier’s school had been trying to learn from (y/n) by any means possible, including attempting to befriend her. She could be intimidating to approach, despite her shy demeanour. Nobody really knew what was going on in her head, (except for Jean, sometimes she couldn’t help but pry) but her abilities as a mutant were fascinating. They always made sure to involve (y/n) in everything, including the casual dinner they had just two nights ago. Storm and Jean encouraged them that (y/n) would eventually open up, she just needed time and care.

As the group of mutants mingle with the Professor, (y/n) hovered outside their circle, lingering around inconspicuously. She usually stuck to the corners of rooms or behind someone’s silhouette, where she could dissolve into lurking shadows if need be.

She imagined stepping through an umbral portal, into a pastel-coloured haze, where she could sit beside Ororo and hold her hand without shaking, without hesitating for minutes on end.

She could see herself like it was a familiar memory; she was dressed in the same clothes, looking up at the same sky, the same blood traveling through her veins. Yet, that version of herself was in a completely different dimension, one where she didn’t let her inhibitions get the best of her. Where Ori would laugh at her jokes and call (y/n) hers. Oh, how she wished it were real. She longed for it with an unutterable pain in her chest, like a heart made of glass, shattering, shards broken by the same heat of lightning that tempered it. Non-existent memories of her fingers nestled between platinum strands, and her lips planting kisses upon melanin-rich skin.

(Y/n) feels a strange aura wash over her, like someone was watching, and catches Jean smirking in her direction from a little further away. After all, Jean too was used to being an outcast and she had a habit of sneaking around in people’s heads. Jean offers her a knowing smile and (y/n) tries desperately to choke back a giggle, as to not look like she’s going crazy.

‘You gotta stop reading my mind, Red.’

Jean nods in Ororo’s direction, and her voice echoes in (y/n)’s head in gentle, hushed tones, ‘she likes you too, y’know’.

***

The mission was covert. An evening stealth operation, meant to expose and disband a gradually forming anti-mutant faction, and therefore, the perfect format for (y/n), Storm, Jean and Mystique’s range of abilities.

Nonetheless, (y/n) still doubted herself. The mission sounded complex and she had no idea why her team picked her for the job.

On the other hand, it made sense that they should pick the other girls. They were strong and experienced. Ororo was literally a Storm, Jean was a Phoenix with telepathic-telekinesis and Raven could take on any face she wanted. The thought of ‘maybe they made a mistake,’ floated sinisterly in the air, circling (y/n)’s head, and now her limbs felt weaker, her DNA seemingly transforming, ridding the mutation from her body.

The four of them snuck inside the building, passing the guards unnoticed. Ororo held her hand on (y/n)’s lower back, gently guiding her down the dark hallway.

“Alright, Raven starts. “We have to split up. Jean, set up a telepathic link, so we’re as silent as possible.”

‘Done.’

(Y/n) was trying hard to suppress the nervousness from rising in her throat, trying in vain to even out her heavy breathing. Ororo knows, so she places her forehead on (y/n)’s forcing her to look into her eyes, before assuring, “Hey, you’ve got this. Stealth is your thing, right?”

She nods, taking a deep breath.

“So, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re not alone. We’re all here with you,” Ororo promises.

Ororo carried herself with such ease, an illustrious illumined vision. But here (y/n) was, feeling weak again like glass again, persistently being shattered over and over, forged by sand and the lightning that strikes it. And then she’s broken but held together at the same time, all by the girl who is a storm. She’s too bright, glowing almost like an angel, and it makes (y/n) feel overwhelmed with a light she isn’t used to.

Composing herself, she sucks in a breath, then lets herself dissolve into the darkness, rendering herself invisible.

Before long, she comes across three armed guards linger in the direction she’s going, she panics, becoming visible again like someone grabbed ahold of her powers, and ripped and ripped and ripped it all apart.

“Ori!?”

“(Y/n), what’s wrong? What’s going on?”

No answer.

“I’ve lost her, she’s panicking too much, she’s blocked out. But I can feel her energy,” Jean presses, almost panting, empathising with (y/n).

The three women become alerted to the now blaring alarm, and the gunshot that rang out not too far from Storm. Storm rushes, cape billowing behind her, sleet encrusting her surroundings. She finally spots (y/n), but it doesn’t give her the relief she had hoped.

“I found her.”

***

Hank peeks his head out of the room, eyes scanning for the x-men. All of them stand up immediately, the legs of their chairs screeching against the floor. Jean appeared much calmer than her team-mates, but looked to Hank expectedly anyway.

“She’s okay. Stable.”

Ororo exhaled sharply, and Scott tenderly nudged her forward toward Hank, who was making his way back to the med bay.

“She’s very lucky. The bullet lodged itself in her rib, so it’s fractured. But just a smidge upwards, and she’d have a punctured lung,” Hank explains. He fixes his glasses before continuing. “She’s on pain killers, but icing the area will also help while she heals.” Lucky for (y/n), Ororo could make as much ice as she needed without leaving her side.

Ororo takes a seat beside (y/n)’s bed, shuffling it closer and taking her hand, careful of the IV drip. She figured that wasn’t close enough, and sits beside (y/n) on the bed, listening to the clock tick. She was still unconscious, but Ororo was just glad her mind was at peace in this state.

Soon after, (y/n)’s eyes open, and she flickers in and out of Ororo’s visibility for a few seconds while she awakens.

“Hey,” Ororo says so quietly, it was almost a whisper. Immediately after she looks at Ori, (y/n)’s lip begins to quiver, and she bursts into tears.

“I fucked up. It’s all my fault.” Then the thoughts were back, flooding her head with ‘you don’t belong here, you don’t belong here, you don’t belong here’. How mad would everyone be because she sabotaged their mission? How mad was Ori? Now she can’t stop sobbing because the guilt clouds everything and it’s so inordinate that she forgets just how much her friends would truly worry about her.

Ororo squeezes (y/n)’s hand and shakes her head. “No it isn’t, (y/n). Everyone gets scared sometimes, and that’s okay.”

“But the mission, I-“

“Forget the mission. We can fix that later. It was just lucky that we were able to fix you.”

The apprehension in Ororo’s eyes broke (y/n)’s doubt, cracked it, so that (y/n) herself could push down the blockage like bars of an enclosure bending and breaking under pressure. (Y/n) sniffs, looking in the other direction shamefully. How could she have doubted how much Ororo cared about her? How could she not realise she’s been under the aegis of Storm and the x-men this entire time? She can feel Ororo’s stare, like icicles freezing into the side of her face, but she refuses to look at her still. Ororo takes (y/n)’s tear-stained jaw in her fingertips, coaxing her to meet her eyes.

“It isn’t always dark times, sweetheart,” Ororo says with a sad smile. “Even shadows need light to exist. You’ll get there. You just have to let the light in.”

“I’m scared, Ori,” she sputtered.

“I know. But I’m right here. I’ve got you,” Ororo urged, pulling her closer.

She wipes the tears off her face, and tells her to watch her hands, as to distract her. Ororo lets sparks of electricity fly from her fingertips and (y/n) stares in amazement. She had seen Storm in action many times, but she had been given such a beautiful, evergreen gift. The tiny sparks slowly turn into jagged bolts of lightning, flickering bright and pure white. They suddenly cease, and a perfect snowflake takes their place, falling and melting on the tip of (y/n)’s nose.

She smiles, watching Ororo’s irises turn from white, back to chocolate brown. That was the first time (y/n) noticed that if she was close enough, she could make out the smallest of freckles arranged just below her eyes, trailing to the bridge of her nose. Before she knew it, she was instinctively gravitating towards Ororo. Or was Ororo leaning into her?

All she knew was that the clock on the wall stopped ticking when her lips met hers, but the beating of her heart only escalated, fluttering, dancing. And try as she might to fight it, (y/n)’s walls tumbled down, crashing like thunder and hail as it met the earth. Ororo had accomplished what no one else could, breaking through (y/n)’s defences. She could only focus on how soft Ororo’s lips felt against her mouth, claiming all her senses.

She still wasn’t sure if this was another figment of her imagination, a false memory, but the way Ori’s hands cupped her face felt amply real. For the first time in a long time, (y/n) didn’t feel all that shy.

They smiled at each other, grins getting so big it turned to laughter. Although (y/n) winced at the pain in her rib, she was convinced this is the best she’s ever felt.

“What do you say we go out for lunch when you’re all healed? Picnic in the garden?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Ororo kisses (y/n)’s forehead and sighs in relief. Now (y/n)’s habit of yearning was no more. What she had so desperately wanted was right here in front of her. And although the shadows and darkness will always be there, so will Ori.

#marvel #storm x reader #storm x female reader #ororo munroe #ororo munroe x reader #x-men #val’s fics #val’s requests

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real-jane · 3 years

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nftn (bonus): birds

(bucky barnes x female!reader, shield) (sam wilson x clint barton)

summary: sam's anxiety over accepting the shield comes to a fever pitch, and the people who love him remind him what he deserves.

warnings: none

word count: 3,168

a/n: the sixth companion piece to nftn! i love sam so much, and he deserved his own little pep talk after all the support he's given our favs thus far. enjoy! :)

series masterlist

Happiness on Bucky looked like nostalgia, especially after breaking through his fog. Outward wistfulness was just as foreign to his form as the scruff which appeared in the new year, but he spent as much time recounting to anyone who would listen how grateful he was for the beauty in his everyday life as he spent scratching his jaw in bafflement. Bucky was content to move about his business through the compound as if his work was secondary to the goodness of his personal life.

But something was going on. Try as he might, Sam couldn’t figure out what it was. Bucky took an alarming number of photos of himself, suddenly, and he had requested the password to his Instagram from Sam. He would sit down across from Sam for coffee, sweaty from his run with his wife, and open his camera… and post the first grimacing photo, with no caption.

Stranger still, was how you’d comment. Every day for three weeks, you had typed simply… “not yet.” One morning, though… beside your username (dollbarnes), beneath Bucky’s morning photo, was an emoji. 🎾. A tennis ball.

“What’s your opinion on opera—you good, Sammy?” Clint stopped mid-stride into the kitchen, where Sam Wilson was standing stock-still in front of the stove, staring at his phone. Hawkeye came around the island and peered over his shoulder in concern.

“He seems to have gotten a handle on selfies,” Clint chuckled. Sam hummed as the man squeezed his shoulder. Clint liberated the lost stirring utensil from the Falcon’s other hand, and bumped his hip. “What do you have against these poor eggs?” He tried and failed to save the pot of burnt breakfast. Sam waved distantly. He pointed at his screen.

“This man really posts an up-the-nose shot every damn morning.” Sam flicked his thumb to show Bucky’s profile–square after square of identical photos covered the feed.

“What’s your verdict?”

“He looks like a werewolf.”

“No,” Clint laughed. “On opera?”

“Indifferent. He doesn’t play tennis…”

“Do you have a suit that isn’t meant for a funeral?” Clint dumped the contents of the pot into the garbage.

Sam frowned. “What’s wrong with my suit?”

“You look like you’re about to give a eulogy in it.”

“I’ve given several–”

“Well, we’ve got tickets tomorrow for Le comte Ory.”

“Oh this is a wardrobe question, not a casual inquiry. This is like when you asked me if I have comfortable fancy shoes, and I got wrangled into a salsa class. Barton, I am starting to think that you see me as some kind of uncultured guy–”

“Maybe I like how excited you get when you enjoy something, to which you were heretofore indifferent.” Clint raised an eyebrow, daring Sam to counter with anything, but he just coughed and scratched his cheek while a faint blush rose in his cheeks. “You could wear your uniform, but I won’t claim responsibility for my actions if you do.”

“Clint–”

“No, I know that look.”

Sam looked away, but Clint stepped closer. Even as Sam folded his arms, guarding his emotions by cupping one hand over his lips, he leaned into Barton’s shoulder. Clint nudged him. “Burning eggs is a sign. What’s going on?”

“A sign?”

“You get distracted and grumpy when you’re worried.”

“I–jesus.” Sam laughed in exasperation. “I’m not grumpy.”

“No?” Clint pried Sam’s fingers from his chin and handed him a carton of eggs from the fridge. “Want to help me save breakfast?”

Clint didn’t wait for Sam to answer. In fact, he didn’t count on Sam to help at all; the blonde anchored the whole process of remaking the eggs around his brooding partner, nudging his thigh so he’d move to access the mixing bowls, tugging his elbow so he’d clear the cooking utensils, pushing him to the end of the island so he could hold open the fridge… Clint positioned Sam directly in his way for whatever his next task was about to be. Sam had called him out for it once, and all Clint had to say about it was you are my way, and then he had flushed in a way that generally unflappable Hawkeye didn’t, so Sam had left it there. Now, he did it whenever Sam needed a moment to formulate whatever he was trying to say, to get him out of his head. Sam reached for Clint’s wrist as he tried to move him along to the stove.

His gaze flicked up to those blue eyes, and he said what it was which choked him.

“Steve’s retiring.”

Clint slid his hand into Sam’s and squeezed. “It’s about time.”

“Well, he… he wants me to take the shield, and I’m…”

“Freaking out.” The corner of Clint’s mouth turned up when Sam nodded. “Yeah… it’s not really a secret, he’s been talking about wanting to get out for a while. He told me you said ‘no.’”

Sam frowned. “I don’t know how I feel about him telling you that.”

“He thought you’d want some support to process it. Considering that you are angry at Bucky’s instagram, I’m assuming you haven’t asked him his opinion, either.”

“Yeah, well. He’s busy playing tennis.”

“It’s about the beard,” Clint laughed. “It’s long enough now that it’s probably soft like the fuzz on a tennis ball.”

Sam stared at him. “My guy posts photos to his public instagram so his wife can tell him whether or not his beard is long enough?”

“You give him so much shit about not using his phone properly–”

“They are never apart–”

“And he does, and he’s still not doing it the way you want.”

“--so why does he need to post his dumb face?”

“You’re worried what he’s gonna think.”

“No,” Sam sighed. “I’m–he’ll be supportive. I think. But…” He stopped. He released Clint’s fingers and rubbed both hands over his face. “I’m not the guy, Clint. The Guy. That’s not me. I’m the… the last person who should carry that shield, I’m the one you call when you need an eye in the sky, but Cap is an institution. Nobody’s gonna believe my ass–”

“Bullshit,” Clint breathed, shaking his head slowly. “You done?”

Sam crossed his arms. “I’m trying to be realistic,” he said, but Hawkeye wasn’t having it.

“No, you’re running. Which, you’re spectacular at, and I’d like you to stop.” Clint smacked his shoulder with the spatula. “You do everything Steve does, you said so yourself. Without the advantage of super-serum, might I add, which makes it twice as impressive that you can catch that stupid shield out of mid-air. I’ve already elaborated on what that does to me,” he added lowly, causing Sam to remember the evening he had discovered that Clint loved Marvin Gaye as much as he did, after an assignment which had seen Sam and Steve tossing the shield back and forth like they were playing ultimate frisbee (and intermittently slamming into HYDRA agents while Clint picked some off from a distance). It had resulted in a very charged ride back on the quinjet, and the first taste of intimacy (which now felt instinctual between them) once they got back to the compound.

Clint pulled himself up on the counter opposite Sam, momentarily setting aside his breakfast machinations. He held out his hands until the Falcon stepped between his knees. Sam almost crumbled as Clint cupped his cheeks, but his gaze flicked back and forth between his partner’s irises.

“You would be very good for America, Sammy.”

Sam pressed his forehead to Clint’s chest and sighed. “I’m not gonna convince you.”

“...To think you’re inferior to Steve? To agree that you’re the wrong person to be Captain America? Babe… have you met me? I give Y/n a run for her money in the unyielding devotion department.”

“I’d like to see that competition, actually,” Sam chuckled. He let himself breathe as Clint drew circles over the planes of his shoulders, taking in the comforting scent of eucalyptus and cedar from his recent shower.

“I’m still gonna take you to the opera, regardless,” Clint said.

Sam shook with laughter. “Oh, see–that’s all the reassurance I needed, I’m fine now.” He patted Clint’s thigh. “Clint… just…”

“I know,” Hawkeye murmured. “You need time. Go find Barnes, and then we’ll talk. Ok?”

“‘K.”

“I’m busy making you breakfast, anyway, you’re always in the way!”

“...says the guy who puts me in the way!”

“I like the view, what can I say?”

***

From the recesses of a small garage on the outskirts of the compound, Frank Sinatra had a lot to say about having things his way, and the notes sat sour between Sam’s ears as he yanked the door open to Bucky’s little sanctuary. The man who was more like a brother to him than any person he had ever met was kneeling beside a small motorcycle, seemingly looking for his reflection in the cherry red paint. He glanced up as Sam collapsed on his sofa, and sat back on his heels.

“That’s sassy,” Sam gestured to the bike.

“Isn’t it? Y/n’s gonna be so mad at me,” Bucky chuckled. “Got it for a song, though. Barely used. Suzuki doesn’t even make this anymore. She’ll be way more relaxed than the SHIELD bikes that Y/n is used to.”

“Red’s a nice touch.”

“Right? Doreen in spec tech.”

“No shit?”

“She did our helmets, too.”

“Remind me to ask her about something for Clint’s birthday,” Sam said.

Bucky hummed in agreement and stood, draping his rag over his shoulder. He took a second and actually looked at Sam, and froze. “You good?”

Sam shook his head. “Steve’s stepping down.”

“Right.”

“How do you feel about that?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I’m thrilled for him. He’s gonna be bored for the first time in his entire life. If he can just convince Nat to move to Brooklyn, he’ll be happy as a clam.”

“Did he tell you his plans for the shield and stuff?”

“He’s been talking to me about it for a long time. He’s only ever expressed one opinion on the matter which made any sense, and that was about wanting to see Sam Wilson take up the mantle… is that why you’re here asking me cryptic questions?” Bucky sat on the arm of the couch.

Sam sighed. “Why don’t you take the shield?”

Bucky blinked. “...What would I do with it?”

“You’ve got the serum, you’re a vet just like him, heavily awarded–”

“Other than the serum, you’re just describing yourself. And it doesn’t mean that I’m someone the country would accept in that role, Sam. I’m lucky I can walk off this compound, and that has nothing to do with me.”

“America is the land of second chances, Buck. Why not you–why not Cap?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. I don’t want it. The notoriety, the publicity. The pressure–”

“Jesus, now I’m not sure I want it either.” A shop rag smacked him squarely in the chest as Bucky tossed it at him.

“Sam. You are the person Steve chose for the job.”

“Could’ve chosen you.”

“He did. Just not for this.”

“Is it Y/n? Do you think she wouldn’t approve?”

Bucky scoffed. “It’s not like that. She believes so much in me that I’d probably find the will to do it on her confidence, alone. I just… you’re the only person I would support on Steve’s heels.”

“What if I don’t want it either.”

“Then don’t take it. But you can’t foist responsibility off on anyone else either. Tell Steve ‘no’ and let him decide what to do from there. “

“And if I say ‘yes’?”

“Then you’re Captain America.”

“It’s not that simple.” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I know. Hey–Y/n’s about to be here for her surprise, you wanna stick around and watch her lose her mind at me? Could be fun!”

“That’s my favorite sport,” Sam chuckled. He hopped up and went for your hoodie, which hung from the hook beside the door. It sat over his built frame like a crop top, but he knew you’d laugh, and he could use someone joking with him right about then.

As the garage door rose, Sam’s anxiety fell. You stood on the other side with your hands over your eyes. Bucky bounded over and kissed your forehead.

“Hi. Okay. You ready?”

“Should I be scared?” you laughed. Bucky squeezed your shoulders and stood behind you.

“Just open your eyes.”

Sam gestured to the sassy bike with two enthusiastic jazz hands. “Ta-dah!”

“You gave me Captain America! Wow, thanks!” You exclaimed, before turning around and smacking Bucky in the chest. “Baby, you weren’t gonna do this–”

“Hey, it was cheap and it’s so cute,” Bucky said quickly. “Plus, it’s rare–Suzuki doesn’t even make this model anymore, so nobody is gonna have one like it, and Doreen used the same red that she used for your helmet detailing. So. It’s really just nothing.” He smiled innocently and you sighed.

“You are the worst, James Barnes.” But you kissed him in a lingering way. “I love the addition of the Wilson in my sweatshirt.”

“That was a bonus,” Bucky said, grinning.

You circled the motorcycle a few times, and whistled appreciatively. “What do you think, Cap?” you said, turning to Sam expectantly. He narrowed his eyes.

“I see what you’re doing, woman.”

“I’m very innocent.”

“I’m–you told her, man?”

Bucky held up his hands in defense. “How could I have told her anything in the last five minutes? My phone is across the shop on the charger right now.”

“I know y’all are telepathic,” Sam grumbled. He shook his head at you. “I’m still making up my mind on all that.”

“He’s deflecting,” Bucky said out of the corner of his mouth, patting you on the butt as he passed by. He reached into his fridge and produced a beer, which he promptly handed to Sam. You held out your hand in silent request, signaling to Sam that he was about to be met toe-to-toe on this.

“Give it to me, then,” you said, tugging him to sit beside you on the sofa. Bucky leaned against the back of the comfy thing. “What’s your issue?”

“I’m only here to watch you yell at him for the bike–”

“I’ll get to that,” you said, winking at your husband. “Come on. Lay it on me.”

“The amount of people bullying me today…” Sam sighed. “Fine. You want to hear it? Great. I’m an Avenger by virtue of chance. If I hadn’t run into Steve on my morning run, I wouldn’t be here. There are thousands of guys who did what I did in the Air Force. Plenty of them are better at what I do than me! I’m the only one of the team who doesn’t have some insane power or something. I barely qualify. Not to mention! I see my family so rarely as it is–how could I possibly have time to live my life, have a partner–I’m not even sure I know what I like doing, but when Nick Fury says jump, I jump, and… you are looking at me like I’m insane.”

Your eyes were wide, but you patted his arm. “Go on. I’m sorry about my face.”

“I’m not what America wants,” he shrugged.

“You are America, Samuel. No–” you held up your hand when he rolled his eyes. “You got here on your own merit. No super soldier conditioning, no supernatural intervention. You enlisted, put in the work, and you now have an authorship credit for a patent on wingpacks, which you insisted not be kept classified because you don’t want to gate-keep technology. You yelled at Tony Stark about it. Twice. It was awesome.” You clinked your beer against his. “Imagine for a moment that Captain America was just a kid from Louisiana. How that would’ve felt for you as a kid, knowing you could grow up to be The Sam Wilson because Sam Wilson is a normal guy from your state, made extraordinary by his own grit. You’re doing a great job at trying to convince yourself that you’re all wrong for it, but… all I see is a guy who exemplifies what that shield means. So.”

You shrugged. “As for your other grievances: you live with your partner, so that’s not gonna be an issue. And if you want, Cap, you can take some time to be with Sarah and the boys, and make up your mind. It’s not like America is gonna crumble while you’re thinking about it.”

“It might,” Sam grumbled.

“No. It won’t. Because, Samuel… America is like you.”

“Stubborn,” Bucky finished. Sam couldn’t help but smile.

“Yup.”

Sam looked between his best friend’s gently smiling faces and shook his head. “I see what you mean about her,” he said to Bucky, nudging your shoulder.

“Told you.” Bucky brushed your cheek. “She’s right, though.”

“It’s infuriating.” Sam drank his beer and couldn’t really account for the taste, but he was grateful for the distraction anyhow. “If I do this, and I do mean if… I can’t do it alone.”

“I’ll be your sidekick?” you offered, which made Sam inhale beer.

He sputtered. “Only if I can call you Bucky.”

“I already have the last name!”

“Somehow this is worse than you yelling at me,” the original sidekick sighed.

“Speaking of which–what the hell, James?? You made a massive purchase without talking to me first–”

Your voice was raised, but Sam was grateful, because he had a lot to think about. He did just that–sipping, silently, while you gave your husband what-for about the bike which you clearly loved–and came to his decision, without much more deliberation.

***

That evening, three couples gathered around the dining table on floor five, each with a shot of tequila. The room was sanguine and happy, but there was also a measured hesitancy between them all. Until the second shot, at least. And then the title which had caused Sam so much stress was passed to him without any pomp. He just said yes, shook Steve’s hand, and got pulled into a debate between Clint and Y/n about whether or not he needed a new suit.

He did. But not the kind to wear to the opera.

A suit fit for the man who was America.

Sam kissed his partner in front of other people for the first time that night, and briefly wondered how it was possible that he had wound up sitting at that table with people who loved him as fiercely as they believed in his worthiness. The same people who included him in the most important events of their lives, who teased him about ‘the bird thing’ with Clint long before he knew just how special Barton really was… who reminded him that he was already the right man to inherit the legacy of America’s ass–after the third shot, the table agreed that Sam was worthy of that title, too.

He didn’t even blush. He just owned it.

***

other drabbles in the nftn world:

the girl

if this is all we have

after prague

what happened in paris

the heir

tag list: @morticiaofthedead @peterhollandkait @hogwartsahist0ry @harrietbaudelaire @general-kenobi357 @hawsx3 @subwaysurf45 @nahthanks @sergntbarnes @agni-l @mass-percussion @ayleehweasleyobrien @saranghaey @music-give-me-life @enchantedbarnes @ellebarness @whatamievendoingtherapyperhaps @eloiseishere

message to be added to the tag list :)

*if your name has a line through it, the tag didn't work

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x clint barton

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i-did-not-mean-to · 1 year

Text

The trials of Ori

Thank you @lathalea for your request, and sorry that it took me so long to post this...

Here's a story about my beloved boy, Ori. <3

AU Prompt: Magic

Dialogue Prompt: Everything went according to plan

Words: 1'479

Characters: Ori x OC

Warnings: Magic, self-confidence problems...and a witch

Ori stared at the strangely alluring creature, sitting cross-legged on a rocky ledge before him.

“Hello,” he greeted in his most reverential tone. “My name is Ori, and I’ve come to ask you for a spell.”

Rising to her feet, the woman—for Ori was almost certain that the fabled magical being was what his people would have called “female”—cocked her head to the side pensively.

“And what makes you think that I possess such powers?” she asked in a breathy, ethereal voice that sent shivers down his tense spine.

When he had set out to find this entity, he had not expected it to be so familiar in shape and appearance—indeed, he had imagined an eldritch creature with a thousand eyes or seventeen arms rather than a slightly wistful-looking sorceress with long, dark hair and a soulful gaze.

“It is said,” he started tentatively, “that in this region—in these very remote caves, to be exact—there lives a magical being who is able to grant wishes and change the very essence of people and things.”

“And that is your desire?” she questioned further as she walked slowly towards him, her otherworldly, luminous regard washing over him in cool waves that made goosebumps break out all over his skin.

Never before had anyone—let alone a woman—looked at him with such vivid, unveiled curiosity.

“Yes.” Shame flooded his awareness and painted his face a dark crimson. All his life, he had been diligent and sober, yes, even frugal and humble—withstanding poverty and deprivation with the dignity and equanimity of a person who could bear hardship without losing their temper or their good character—and yet, he was profoundly lonely.

“Yes,” he repeated a little louder. “I would be made handsome, so that I might find a dam to…”

“Marry you?” the sorceress completed in a bored tone—she seemed taken aback and almost offended by his demand, and Ori was afraid to have his most earnest wish refused and rejected out of hand.

“Love me,” Ori corrected. As soon as he understood the terrible implication of his words, he lifted his hands in a staying motion. “I would, of course, marry that lady. Far be it from me to dishonour her in any way, but I want more than just a contract to be fulfilled. I dare say you’ll find that rather naïve and mundane.”

To his astonishment, she shook her head and smiled mildly.

“Not in the least,” she assured him. “Usually, people come here for wealth, for power, or for revenge. True love is surprisingly rare. Now, allow me to inquire where the link between your wanting to be handsome and your quest for earnest affection lies.”

Shuffling his feet in embarrassment, Ori muttered that he had ever been a kind and generous dwarf, adding that he was educated, a renowned hero, and generally regarded as a pleasant person to be around.

“This only leaves my appearance as a reason not to be considered as a potential partner,” he muttered dejectedly.

“Is there someone specific you have in mind?” she queried softly.

“No,” he immediately replied, the vehemence of his outburst betraying the depth of his despair. “No, I’d just like to meet someone, and have them take an interest in me.”

“So be it,” the sorceress declared after a moment’s hesitation. “You shall complete three tasks for me. In the darkest bushes, under the densest canopy, grow berries, plump and golden. A basket of those you must bring me.”

Ori nodded—he had carried books through dragon fire and was undaunted by the idea of having to forage for fruit as he had done many a time in his youth.

“Moreover,” she added adamantly, “you shall fight and cage the wild beasts—corrupted by a lingering, poisonous evil encroaching on my beautiful forest—and bring them to me, so that I may attempt to free them from the maddening affliction that ails them.”

Again, he did not protest; he had braved Smaug, The Terrible, the Elves of Mirkwood, and a whole slew of foul orcs, and thus, he was not cowed by the worry and warning darkening her fair brow.

“Lastly, I will bid you to retrieve a priceless bracelet from the depths of the nearby pond. The gems of my ancestors—the source of their power and symbol of their pride—adorn it, and you shall recognise it by the radiant gleam it gives off even now.”

Taking a deep breath, Ori straightened. He was a mediocre swimmer, but he was sure that—with a little help from the princes—he could find and recover the heirloom. After all, a fierce love for gemstones and precious metals ran in his blood.

He was confident that his experience, his bravery, and his unique combination of dwarven stolidness and erudition would help him fulfil every task put to him by this mysterious lady.

“I shall await you here,” she smiled.

“May I ask,” he mumbled, suddenly bashful once more, “what is your name?”

A pealing giggle escaped her before she became serious once more. “You may call me Irvel,” she finally said in a tone that told Ori that he was not allowed to know her true name.

Maybe, he thought, this knowledge was dangerous, for it would confer a power to him that she was not ready or willing to relinquish.

“Until we meet again, Irvel.” Giving her another sweeping bow of reverence and admiration, he took his leave, feeling much lighter and more hopeful already just for having talked to this fantastic being who held such immeasurable power.

As expected, the fulfilment of Irvel’s “tests” was exhausting, sometimes difficult, and often truly annoying, but—diligent to the core—Ori did as he was bidden.

The wild beasts, which resembled no animal he had ever beheld before, were corralled in a barred chamber in the complex system of underground caves and tunnels Irvel lived in, and her precious heirloom rested on a pillow of soft moss beside her.

“You have done well,” Irvel exclaimed when he set down a huge basket—laden with ripe, golden fruit—at her feet.

Inclining his head, Ori let his eyes dart nervously around the firelit cavern—he was not entirely sure how the spell would work and whether it would hurt. He was not exactly afraid of pain, but he certainly preferred being warned beforehand.

Against all expectations, all Irvel did was lift her hands and mumble a few words.

When Ori rushed to a small basin filled with water to behold his changed appearance, disappointment drove tears into his eyes—with the exception of his garments, now clean and new, nothing had been visibly altered.

“Did it not work?” he asked quietly, not wanting to affront the sorceress in case her magic was not yet full-wrought.

“Everything went according to plan,” Irvel declared with a self-satisfied grin.

“How can you say that?” Ori cried, frustration and shame driving the blood into his still-sallow cheeks.

“You were handsome the moment you walked through this door,” Irvel explained with a smile that melted into an expression that was both charming and enigmatic. “I just wanted to remind you of all the other excellent qualities you possess—courage, devotion, and admirable stubbornness—in case you wouldn’t believe me. Do you disbelieve me then?”

Ori’s first instinct was to scream at her that she knew nothing, but—upon further reflection—he had to admit that her gaze was indeed warm and admirative as she gazed upon him with evident approval. “You think I am handsome? Truly?”

“Naturally,” Irvel laughed. “You have a lovely face. Actually, I would not mind seeing it again…will you visit me?”

Nodding before he could change his mind, Ori waved his hand at the berries. “Enjoy your treat, Irvel, the Clement,” he sighed, “and I shall find a pretext to return hence as soon as I can.”

As he trudged back to his home, the young scribe—feeling more attractive despite being aware that Irvel had not erased a single freckle or reduced his nose in the slightest—sought frantically for a way to keep his word.

Chance favours the bold, or so they said, and this held true for Ori.

Upon entering his very own lodgings under the Mountain, he found the King’s consort pacing around the room nervously.

“Where have you been?” Bilbo asked anxiously. “Is it true that you know a witch?”

“Don’t call her that,” Ori exclaimed instinctively, thus giving himself and his secret away.

“You must take us to her,” Bilbo demanded in a tone that made it hard to believe that he had not been born and raised a pampered prince. “It is of the utmost importance.”

“Certainly,” Ori purred, feeling terrible for being so insidiously sly about this. “Come back tomorrow, and we shall settle the details.”

@fellowshipofthefics: Here's the next for this month!!!

Thank you, @lathalea for this super cool request! It was a pleasure to write!

#og post #FOTFICS AU-gust #fotfics august challenge #Ori propaganda #Ori x OC #magic #Everything went according to plan #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt

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beatrixacs · 2 years

Note

Okay, I am way too deep into the Stargate-vers lately… And I am not sorry :P

Are you up for a little ask-game? ^^

Who would beat the other two: Teal'c, Ronon Dex or Teal'c?

Who would you pick: Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Cameron Mitchell, Jonas Quinn or Ronon Dex?

Who is the best head of SG (SGC or SGA): George Hammond, Hank Landry, Elisabeth Weir, Sam Carter or Richard Woolsey?

Who is the best enemy: Goa'uld, Replicators, Ori or Wraith?

If you could pick three characters (no matter if dead or alive) to create a team, who would they be?

Where would you rather be stationed: SGC or Atlantis?

What's your favorite ship (canon or not) from each show?

What race/alien species did you like the best?

Who is your favorite Alien (person/creature not from Earth)?

And last, but not least: Favorite male character of each show and favorite female character of each show?

Damn, question-rounds are fun!

Who would be the other two: Teal’c, Ronon Dex or Teyla?

Well, we kind of have those fights in the show... I’d still say Teal’c. He’s got more than muscles and that’s experience in strategic combat.

2. Who would you pick: Jack O’Neill, Daniel Jackson, John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Cameron Mitchell, Jonas Quinn or Ronon Dex?

As a man? Daniel, of course! As a team leader? Jack.

3. Who is the best head of SG (SGC or SGA): George Hammond, Hank Landry, Elisabeth Weir, Sam Carter or Richard Woolsey?

George Hammond for sure. Nothing against the others, Hammond just gave the example how to do it.

4. Who is the best enemy: Goa’uld, Replicators, Ori or Wraith?

That is an interesting question because “best” can have many interpretations. Personally, I had the most fun with Goa’uld. I saw the Replicators as a greater threat, though, because they can replicate and evolve quite easily so technically, they are the best. They managed to almost destroy such a developed race as Asgards!

5. If you could pick three characters (no matter if dead or alive) to create a team, who would they be?

Lol, ‘no matter if dead or alive’... So, Sheppard as a leader. Sam as a scientist (she could swap with Zelenka). Ronon as the muscle. And me, I’d be female Daniel.

6. Where would you be rather stationed: SGC or Atlantis?

Atlantis, definitely. I think I would get claustrophobic in SGC, to be honest. And as Pisces, I am very close to water.

7. What’s your favourite ship (canon or not) from each show?

Nothing could be easier to answer.

SG-1: Daniel x Vala, SGA: Rodney x Jennifer, SGU: Everett x T.J.

8. What rare/alien species did you like the best?

Oh wow... Hard to choose between Asgard and Nox but I suppose I’ll go with good old Asgard.

9. Who is your favourite Alien (person/creature not from Earth).

Vala Mal Doran, without a doubt.

10. And last but not least: Favourite male character of each show and favourite female character of each show?

SG-1: Daniel Jackson and Vala Mal Doran

SGA: John Sheppard and Teyla Emmagan

SGU: Everett Young and Camile Wray

#about me #asks #stargate #stargate sg-1 #stargate atlantis #stargate universe

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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 5 years

Text

Care

Bilbo Baggins x Reader

Bilbo gets sick :(

Throughout your time with the company of Thorin Oakenshield and friends, you've been the epitome of health. Well rested, able to run on little food and water, somehow always pretty clean, not cold all the often, and the works. Basically, you're just a generally very healthy person. And luckily for everyone else, you've got a little experience in medicine.

So when Bilbo suddenly falls sick, you're the perfect person for the job.

How did he get sick, you ask? Well...

One night during the trip after you went to bathe with Bilbo after everyone else was finished, you found that the water was quite a bit colder than you had been expecting.

You typically bathed at the same time as the hobbit for three reasons. One, he is ever the gentleman and wonderful conversational partner. Two, he can't stand bathing at the same time as those rambunctious rascals just as much as you. And three, neither of you are allowed to go by yourself since it's not safe so you need a buddy anyways. You can most certainly hold your own in a fight, and you've said as much, but they have very specific customs when it comes to females (being as less than 1/3 of their entire population is actually female, they hold them in very high regard and protect them a bit too much) and Bilbo is basically useless with his sword.

It was just a natural pair.

Anyways, the water was especially chilly that evening and though the thought of bathing in such glacial water wasn't appealing in the slightest, going on dirty until the next stream was ever less appealing, so you sucked it up and got in anyway.

You assume Bilbo felt the same way being as he complained a bit in the beginning, but other than a brief moment of displeasure, he showed no other signs of discontent.

The two of you washed with your backs facing each other as always, and when you were both nice and clean, you got out and dried as much as possible for getting dressed again. Changing into the same dirty clothes does dampen the effects of just washing, but you're grateful that you have the opportunity to wash in the first place.

When both of you were dressed and on your way back to the others, you noticed poor Bilbo had begun to shiver. You offered to give him your coat, but he only smiled shyly and said, "N-No, I'm quite alright. Thank you."

Yeah, he fuckin' lied.

The next morning you are disturbed by the sound of someone sneezing less than a foot away from you. Now just one sneeze wouldn't usually bother you, but this mans over here didn't sneeze once, twice, or even thrice. He sneezes 4 times in a row, all consecutively and right next to you.

It jolts you awake, and you turn your head quickly to see who it is when your eyes fall upon poor red-face Bilbo huddled up beneath his blankets.

You sit up sluggishly and push your blanket to the side, crawling over to his shivering and unwell form to see if he's running a fever or not. When you press the back of your hand to his forehead you recoil quickly at the heat that you feel. He's positively burning up.

Very quickly you grab your blanket, crumple it up, then place it beneath his head to act as a pillow. After, you drag over your bag and begin to go through it.

You take out your water skin and rip up one of your extra shirts and soak it with your water, then place the soaked fabric on his head to, hopefully, lower his temperature.

"Miss Y/N?" Someone calls from behind you, "What are you doing?"

It's still rather dark out, so whoever it is must be the morning watch.

You turn and see Ori who is sitting on a long by the edge of the big group in the middle.

"Oh, Ori thank god!" You wave him over, and as soon as he approaches you hand him your now empty waterskin, "I need you to go fill this up right now. Bilbo has a fever, but I've run out of water."

The young dwarf looks down at Bilbo worriedly then grabs the water holder you gave to him. "I'm on it." He runs off before you can say thank you.

You turn back to Bilbo and gently pull his blanket off and begin to pull off his velvety red coat.

The hobbit groans quietly and asks in a tired and weak voice, "What are you doing...?" His eyes open up a bit, but it seems to be quite the chore for him.

He seems to be pretty confused, so you give him a small reassuring smile and explain softly, "You're sick, Bilbo. I'm going to take off some of your layers so your fever doesn't rise, and I'm going to need you to drink lots of water."

It appears he's too fatigued and unwell to even question what you're telling him, so he just nods and lets his eyes close again.

With a little help from the blond hobbit, you finally manage to remove his jacket and begin to unbutton the front of his waistcoat.

"Mahal, Y/N! What do you think you're doing?!" Someone yells next to you suddenly.

God is everyone going to ask you that?

You glance back and see multiple confused, flustered, and uncomfortable eyes staring at you and Bilbo.

"If I had known I could get those kind of services from our healer, then-"

"You don't want to finish that sentence." You say darkly, looking at the jokester with a gaze so intense and furious that he doesn't even finish his statement.

In an attempt to ignore their obviously impure thoughts, you snap, "If you think I'm trying to taint the honor of your burglar then rest assured that my intentions lay elsewhere!" You finish unbuttoning his waistcoat, then reach up and test the coolness of the rag on his head. "Our hobbit is sick, so either make yourselves useful or sod off and leave us be." Your intention was not to be so harsh, but their implications made your blood boil.

"Y/N!" You hear Ori yell not too far off, "I've got the water!"

You wave him over and take the water skin from him appreciatively, "Thank you, sweet boy. You're much more commendable than your companions considering your first reaction was wondering how you could help ." You can't help but take a jab at them for their inappropriate behavior and horribly distorted assumptions, but this only makes you like Ori even more.

The young dwarf blushes at your praise and term of endearment but doesn't say anything else.

"Bilbo, my dear I need you to drink some water..." You explain in a soft voice, waiting for his nod of assent to start helping him.

When he does consent to your assistance in helping him drink, you place your hand under his curly blond head and lift it up slowly, lifting the lip of the water skin to his mouth in sync with your other motions.

"Here you go..." You whisper just as softly, hoping not to stir a headache within him.

He drinks the water in little sips, and when he pulls back you hand the water back off to Ori. "You're a doll, thank you. Where is Oin?" You ask abruptly, scooting forward and shifting to have Bilbo rest his head on your thighs so you can put your blanket to better use.

"When I walked into camp I saw him running off, saying something about Athelas and, er Kingsfoil."

"Okay, that's good. Kingsfoil and Athelas are the same thing. A healing plant." At least someone other than yourself and Ori has some sense in this damn company of buffoons. "You've helped me a great deal, Ori, so I give you my sincerest thanks."

It seems all of your praise and thanks have successfully made his day because when he walks off there is a little hop in his step.

You focus back on the poor suffering hobbit laying in your lap, a sympathetic expression on your face, "I knew I should've given you my coat, you stubborn little hobbit." You reach up and brush his hair out of his face, then take the wet cloth and squeeze it out. Once it's mostly rid of the now warm water, you re-wet it and return it to his still hot forehead.

"I'm sorry..." He mumbles when you recall his denial of your extra layers from last night. "I thought I was fine, really."

You shake your head, though he can't see it, and can't help the small smile that raises onto your face, "No, no sweetling don't apologize. Twas only a little bit of a rant. Please, just take a rest for me, alright?"

He nods his head once and relaxes again.

You run the back of your middle and forefinger down his cheek lightly, feeling slightly guilty that you didn't urge him to bundle up more last night.

Thorin makes his way over to you eventually and settles next to you. He doesn't say anything at first, so you just ignore him and stay focused on the sick hobbit.

"They meant not to offend you, Y/N. You know they think very highly of you." You still don't say anything, so he continues, "Of course, they should know better than to mess with such a fierce healer."

"I know that...," you can tell he's trying to smooth things over, probably because of the rage you exerted when addressing the lot of them, and strangely it kinda works, "I let my anger get the best of me, I'm afraid. I hope I did not hurt anyone else's feelings."

The dwarf chuckles at your concern for the feelings of the rest of them, "This is why you're a healer, I suppose, as opposed to an enforcer."

You look at him with confusion, not really picking up what he's putting down. "What?"

"Your forgiving and benign nature never ceases to impress me. Your ethics were challenged while you attempted to help, and even though you lost your temper, you still managed to help our burglar and forgive those fools." He says fools fondly, showing that he doesn't actually mean to insult them, "We are honored to have you with us."

With that, he stands and leaves you to take care of Bilbo once again.

"He's right you know." Bilbo's quiet voice comes from below.

You look down at him and see that his eyes are open and focused on you. "I thought I told you to rest." There is no accusation or annoyance in your voice, only concern and a bit of amusement.

"Well, yes but I... It's hard to sleep on command I suppose."

His defense is flimsy and not that believable, but you accept it nonetheless. "Alright, alright. Don't worry about it then, you don't have to be asleep to get rest."

You brush his hair up with your hand again and begin to lightly run your fingers through the shaggy mess of blond curls to get his mind off of the horrible feeling of sickness.

Bilbo hums appreciatively and lets his eyes slide shut once more, relishing in this pampering (since this trip hasn't left much room for a lavish lifestyle)

#cute #fluff #bilbo baggins #the hobbit bilbo #bilbo x reader #reader insert #reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit #tolkien #the company of thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield #thorin durin #thorins company #fanfic

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marvelhead17 · 3 years

Text

The Tale of Eossimar (Original Female Character x Bofur Fic)

Chapter 5

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings to cover the whole fic: Fake relationships, half-blood children, mild violence, fight scenes, male/male relationships, Dwarf gender concepts, battle of five armies fix-it, pre-battle of five armies, near death incidents, talking to dead people, mentions of paradise/heaven.

The sunlight casting through the front door was what alerted Thorin to the start of the new day; he immediately got up and started to wake the rest of the company from their sleep. Soon they were all up and they wandered out into the sunny day, most of them raised their hands to cover their eyes as they adjusted to the sudden brightness, and they found Nari, Callon and the princes already standing outside.

“Morning, I was just about to come wake ye up,” Nari greeted them, “Thought ye might need the rest,”

“Yes, well, we’re rested now,” Thorin nodded.

“Callon suggested visiting the market so we can get some supplies if ye need,”

“By all means,”

The group walked on towards the marketplace, it was near the entrance they had entered through the day before, and bustling with activities already considering it was only the start of the day.

“For a small village your people don’t seem short of busyness,” he noted.

“One has to keep busy if ye can’t live a life outside of these walls,” she glanced back at him and his wandering gaze turned to that of shame, she stopped walking and stood in what seemed to be the centre of the marketplace, “Now I’m sure ye’d like to get yer hands on some supplies whatever they may be, so explore what we have to offer, and tell the owners that I sent ye, if they give you grief then find Callon or me,”

“What about the weapons you promised us?” Dwalin asked.

“Ye’ll get them later, we’ll meet up back here sometime passed noon,”

The company didn’t argue and disbanded into smaller groups, each moving to a different stall of their choosing, the only remaining were Nari, and Bofur.

He walked over to Nari with his hands behind his back and a big grin on his face, she raised her brow, “Ye wouldn’t happen to know where I could acquire a musical instrument would ye?”

She smiled, “Aye I would, come along,” she cocked her head and started walking towards the furthest side of the marketplace.

The stall was set up with a variety of instruments displayed on a beautiful red cloth, and they approached it just as a young family finished up their purchase, their young child jumping in tow of their guiding hand while clutching a lute in their own small hand. Bofur looked across the entire table, to his amazement there were some instruments he’d never seen before, and some were so large that they had to be displayed from the ground up.

“Got a big enough selection have ye?” he asked the stall owner, he stared longer than intended as he tried to recall where he had seen the face before.

“Ye remember Nikolas, don’t ye?” Nari asked.

“Oh, yer brother-in-law, I thought I recognised him,” he stuck out his hand to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet ye, officially,”

“You must be part of the company that has my poor wife fretting,” Nikolas chuckled and took his hand giving it a firm shake before releasing it, “What’s yer name?”

“Bofur,”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He gave a genuine smile, “So what do you have your heart set out for?” He looked him over, “Perhaps a flute?”

“Oh ye’re a right clever lad, how did ye figure that out?” Bofur asked in amazement.

“You have an old one hanging from your side,” he nodded his head and Bofur touched the dangling instrument and laughed.

“I must’ve put it there out of habit,” he untied it and held it in his hands, “Though I do believe that this one has seen better days…” he sighed.

“How did I not notice that?” Nari asked out loud, “Ye know, I didn’t think ye to be the kind to play something so delicate,”

“Really, and why’s that lass?”

She shrugged, “I just thought ye’d play the drums or perhaps a lute, something more accustomed to yer personality I suppose,”

“There’s plenty about me I could surprise ye with,” he winked at her.

“Well I have plenty of selection for you among the flutes,” he gestured to the ivory, ebony, metal and honey coloured options, “Oak, maple, brass, silver, even bone; have a look,”

Bofur looked down at all the variations, seemingly overwhelmed by the sudden need to choose, to him they were all beautiful, and then his eyes fell upon it. He carefully picked up a white flute, examining the intricate carvings of flowers that were well planned and etched with care, something about it made him desire it.

“This one, it’s perfect,” he almost whispered.

“Ah, the stag-bone flute, it took me over a year to carve that one,” Nikolas said, “It’s best suited for upbeat music, and it’s the strongest material I’ve encountered, it will last a lifetime,”

“Is that so?” Bofur asked, becoming deflated, he moved to place it back onto the table, “It must cost a fortune-”

“Then I shall pay for it,” Nari stopped him, “How much Nikolas?”

“Nari, you’re family, I could not-”

“Ye said it yerself, it took a year for ye to carve, and I will not have my nephews and niece suffer because their father may struggle to make ends meet,” she retrieved a pouch of coins, leaving him no room to argue. “How much?”

“Two hundred and fifty,” he said, she looked at him with a small glare, “Alright it's three hundred and fifty,” he sighed, she smiled and dumped the bag of coins on the table.

“That should be enough, thank ye Nikolas,”

“You’re welcome, thank you.” Nikolas nodded with slightly widened eyes, he cleared his throat, “And don’t worry about Lúthrien, she just needs time to calm down, you know how she gets,”

“Aye, I know,” she nodded. “Let’s go,” she looked to Bofur and walked on, he followed after her.

“I can’t thank ye enough for this,” Bofur beamed, “Truly, I owe ye,”

“Consider it a gift, ye did almost die following my instructions after all,” she looked at him and gave him a lopsided smile, “Probably the least I can do to make up for it,”

“Still, that was a great deal of money,” he glanced at the instrument and carefully tied it to his side.

“Really, it was nothing Bofur.” She waved her hand, “Now, is there anything else ye might need?” Nari looked around at the other stalls and raised a brow to him, he shook his head, Callon and the princes were examining knives with the craftsmen not too far off and her brother was eagerly speaking with Fíli while Kíli seemed distracted.

“Nothing more I could need,”

“A dwarf of simple needs I see,”

“Aye, ye have to be when ye move about from town to town,”

Nari glanced up at the sky, “Let’s take the opportunity to enjoy the sun while we’re here,” she suggested, Bofur agreed and they walked side by side until they reached a sitting area.

They found that Bombur was seated further away with a large pile of food before him, Bofur laughed at the expression on Nari’s face as he sat on a bench, she sat next to him and looked at him with concern.

“Does he always eat that much food?” she asked, noting a wheel of cheese, fresh fruits, bread rolls and some cooked meats all piled together.

“Aye,” he leaned back and looked to the sky before returning his gaze to her, “Ever since I could remember Bombur’s always eaten hordes of food, mind ye, he can cook about as well as he eats,”

“I’ve heard ye should never trust a slender cook, so I would believe ye,” Bofur laughed and she looked at Bombur in wonder. “How do ye know him?”

He rested his hands behind his head and stretched his back out, “He’s my older brother,”

“Really?” she asked in surprise.

“Aye, the resemblance is uncanny, I know,” he grinned with a familiar cheek. “And that dwarf who wears the decorative axe in his head is our cousin, Bifur, we’re not quite sure how it got stuck there, but he was never much for words to begin with,”

“Well I certainly see the resemblance between ye and Bifur,” she chuckled lightly, “Ye both like to adorn yer heads with funny things,”

“Ooh that was a low-blow,” he pretended to wince and grab his side.

“So who else is related? I gather Fíli and Kíli must be related, and Fíli addressed Thorin as ‘uncle’?”

“Aye, Fíli is Kíli’s older brother, and Thorin is their Uncle by blood,”

“That explains why he’s been so protective of them,” she nodded, “I take it he has no bairns of his own?”

Bofur shook his head, “I don’t think he ever looked to find love, but he treats his sister’s sons as if they were his own,”

“I understand that,” she looked around the marketplace absentmindedly.

“Aye, ye seem close to yer nephews and niece,”

“What? Oh yes,” she caught sight of her brother, “Them too. But I’ve been keeping an eye over my brother since he was a pebble,”

“He must think the world of ye for that,” Bofur said, Nari looked to see that his face was serious, she glanced back at Callon.

“I could only hope so,”

Bofur didn’t press the subject further, so he continued speaking about the company, “And then ye have Dori, Nori and Ori, they’re all brothers, different fathers and in that order by birth,” he pointed to the three that stood together near a crockery stand, “Dori is the grey-haired mother hen of the lot, Nori the pointy-haired lad likes to make bets and does the occasional theft now and then, and young Ori is an artist and writer, and I heard that he’s hoping to document our journey someday,”

“Dori, Nori and Ori, alright, that’s not at all confusing,” Nari scrunched her nose and pointed to Balin and Dwalin, “And they are brothers as well? At least that’s what I gathered based on dinner last night,”

“Aye, Balin is Dwalin’s older brother, they may not seem like it but they’re thick as thieves, and our healer Óin along with his brother Glóin are their cousins as well,” he pointed out the two older dwarves.

“Balin and Dwalin, those names continue to sound so familiar…” she thought for a moment and then shrugged it off, “Never mind.” She nodded to Bilbo who had found himself in conversation with Thorin. “What of Master Baggins?”

“Bilbo? Oh, he’s on his own, poor lad, there’s no family I know of waiting for his return back to the Shire either,”

“Oh, that is a bit sad,” she rubbed her hands awkwardly together, “But what I meant was, why did he join the company?”

“Oh! Well we needed a burglar to get inside the mountain and get the Arkenstone, he’s lighter than a feather when he wants to be that Bilbo,”

“Burglar?” she frowned, “He doesn’t seem the type... but who am I to be judging?” she leaned back on the bench and stretched her arms out behind her, “Well I’m certainly glad to know more about the famous company. Thank ye,”

He smiled at her, “Anytime… though if ye wanted to be alone with me all ye had to do was ask ye know, ye didn’t have to single me out,”

She laughed and smacked him playfully on the shoulder and pointed at him, “Ye were the one who sought me out, playing daft the way ye were,”

He chuckled and rubbed his arm where she had hit him, “Caught on to that, did ye?”

“Of course I did, ye’re a right cheeky dwarf, and it’s easy to tell when ye’re up to something,” she smiled at him and rested her arm on the bench, “So, tell me more about yerself,”

“About, about me?” Bofur almost stuttered, “What about me?”

“Anything really,” she rested her chin on her hand and looked at him, “It’s not often that we meet people from outside of our village anymore,”

Bofur was about to speak when he was interrupted, “Nari, I’m sorry to disturb you,” it was the young elf maid from the evening before, Elva, he recalled, “But it’s nearly noon and-”

“Already?” she asked, looking up at the sky, “My how the time flies… I’m sorry to leave ye on such short notice Bofur but I have something I need to attend to, tell the others I’ll meet them shortly,” she excused herself and got up, jogging away from the marketplace and out of sight, with Elva following not far behind.

Bofur closed his mouth and lowered his hand, he was joined by Fíli and Kíli who seated themselves happily next to him, the youngest brother decided to prop his leg over Fíli’s lap while munching on a sweet treat in hand, with Callon standing nearby and looking to where she had gone.

“Must you put your leg on my lap?” Fíli sighed.

“What?” Kíli asked through a mouthful of food, “Nari said to keep it elevated,” he grinned and took another bite of his food.

“The only time you decide to listen to someone, and you decide to use me for a footrest,” Fíli sighed, shaking his head, he looked over to Bofur and frowned. “Where did Nari run off to?”

Kíli bent his head back to look at Bofur upside-down, “Yes, she seemed eager to leave,” he munched at his food again.

“Kee,” Fíli hissed, making the young brother move back upright and shrug.

“What? You saw it with your own eyes-”

“Sometimes there are things you just can’t say-”

“Well I wish I knew lads, she just pardoned herself and then ran off down that way,” Bofur pointed in the direction. “I think it had to do with whatever that Elva lass told her yesterday while we were waiting to bathe,”

“Bofur, where is Nari?” Thorin asked as he approached them, the other members had gathered to the bench and some looked around muttering to each other.

“What time is it?” Callon asked, causing everyone to look at him.

“That lass Elva said it was nearly noon, why?”

“I know where she went, and it’s not good,” he tensed slightly, he looked at the others, “I don’t suppose it’s anything to hide, so ye may as well come along,” he nodded his head and walked off.

“Are you certain we should be going to wherever she is?” Thorin asked him.

“Well, most of the village will likely be there to watch, it’s no secret,”

The company all glanced at one another and shrugged, they tried to bounce ideas around quietly about what it could possibly be, but none of them were close. They stopped their chattering when they heard a loud whistling noise from nearby.

“Seems that we’re just in time,” he stopped walking and the dwarfs nearly walked straight into him, grumbling they dispersed and looked ahead.

Nari was facing a dwarf not too far from herself, in an open clearing that was surrounded by a crowd; they kept their distance as they waited. He removed his sword from its sheath and Nari did the same, neither moving from where they stood, holding each other’s gaze.

“What’s going on?” Kíli asked Callon, seating himself on the ground to rest his leg.

“Cáleb’s trying to win my sister’s hand in marriage,”

“Marriage?” Bilbo asked surprised, “It looks like they’re about to dual-” he said in disbelief, “Is this normal Dwarf custom?”

“Certainly not,” Balin shook his head.

“Right, so who’s betting that Nari shall beat the lad?” Nori asked, not hesitating in making money out of the situation.

“My money is on the lass, if she can nearly get Thranduil then she can certainly handle this dwarf,” Bofur said confidently, “How much are we talking?”

“A hundred coins,” Nori said.

“I agree with Bofur, I’m certain the lass can handle her own,” Dwalin agreed.

“Really? I don’t think she’d be able to,” Kíli shook his head, “I wager that she won’t win,”

“I might not be agreeable with the violence of the situation, but I’d put my money on her,” Bilbo nodded.

“I’ll wager that she might teach him a good lesson,” Fíli smirked, “She doesn’t seem the type of dwarrow to be objectified as a trophy, I’m in,”

And soon enough the others had placed their bets; Bofur, Dwalin, Bilbo, Fíli, Dori, Nori and even Callon had made the wager for her to win, while Kíli, Bombur, Bifur, Ori, Óin and Glóin otherwise disagreed, the winners would divide the money amongst one another; Thorin and Balin wanted nothing to do with it as they watched on in concern.

As if they had been waiting for the bets to be placed they started to move, with Cáleb making the first swing towards her, she lifted her sword and swiftly blocked the attack, and taking a strike at him in return. They continue their back and forth assaults, with Cáleb seemingly taking the lead, the company muttering among one another that Nari was holding back against him while the others waved it off.

Nari was returning the swings with ease, until Cáleb’s foot slipped underneath her unnoticed and tripped her up, she stumbled backwards onto the ground with a grunt and he took the opportunity to try and pin her arms down, kneeling heavily over her.

She wriggled underneath him, both of them panting slightly from the exertion; he looked her dead in the eyes.

“Yield,” he growled, she freed her arms from his grip and grabbed her sword that lay next to her.

“Never,” she quickly slid her sword between their chests as a barrier, and grasped the other end of the blade with her other hand, she shoved him off of her with excessive force and he immediately moved back to retrieve his sword.

They fought again with their swords clanging away, but the company could sense that Nari’s swings were becoming more aggressive than needed; in fact to their surprise she missed a few chances to strike him. Cáleb swung hard enough to spin Nari on her heel, momentarily disorientating her direction of attack, and he came up behind her speedily, pressing his free arm across her chest into him and held his sword to her throat.

She didn’t hesitate in elbowing him in the gut, breaking free from his hold and then turning to strike him with her sword again; however, he had raised his sword in the nick of time as the weapons made a loud ringing as they scraped against each other.

Neither of them backed down, and as a result their swords were reaching dangerously close to their hands, Cáleb struck his sword against her hand to disarm her of her weapon; she dropped it with a yelp, shaking her hand but not slowing down when reaching to pick it up once again.

Cáleb’s sword to her throat made her fall short, she looked up at him as he eyed her, he pressed the cool metal to her neck and she didn’t give him the satisfaction of expressing her fear, simply staring at him.

“After all this time and you still hold on?” He asked, moving the blade slowly to the single braid that dangled from her face, with a flick of his wrist he cut it from her hair and it fell to the ground softly.

“I reckon she might just kill him now,” Callon muttered, pressing a hand to his head with a deep sigh.

“Why would ye say that?” Bofur asked.

“Our father braided that some time before he died, that was sixty years passed,”

Nari briefly glanced down at the braid; before she ducked under the sword that Cáleb now hovered carelessly by her, he stepped back in surprise at her sudden movement, clearly believing that he had won the match. She grabbed for her sword and swung hers hard enough to knock his from his grasp, it landed just in front of the crowd that had now gathered, he looked at her with widened eyes and started stepping backwards as she stomped towards him.

The most unforeseen events followed as she threw her own sword to the ground in rage, “Ye dare to dishonour the memory of my father?” She charged forward and grabbed him by the tunic, raising him from the ground slightly and pulling him close to her face, she used her free fist to punch him squarely underneath his jaw.

The crowd including the dwarves winced as he tumbled onto the ground stomach first, and he looked back almost helplessly as she came up behind him. She grabbed the scruff of his tunic using both hands, plucking him off the ground without effort; she walked backwards and then ran forwards, releasing him towards an empty hay-wain.

Feathers, hay and a few loose chickens flew into the air at the sudden collision, she brushed her hands off and watched him as he struggled, the company staring at her and astounded by her strength. He coughed heavily and discarded some of the mess that now covered him, wobbling to stand himself up once again, and he was clearly dazed and struggling to make sense of where he was.

His face was dirty from the mess of the hay-wain, and the drying blood that had bled out and dripped down to his mouth.

“C’mon! Ye wanted a fight and now ye’ve got one,” Nari gestured for him to come closer and he hesitated, “{Fight me!}” she yelled, causing some of the crowd to be startled, he walked forward slowly and raised his fists to protect his face.

She made a few low blows to his abdomen which winded him, and he tried his best to get a few hits but missed on every attempt, his vision getting the best of him as he tried to focus himself. She hit him hard in the stomach and he dropped his hands to hold himself, she immediately punched him in the face and he crumpled to the ground with a spin.

Some of the crowd cheered while others gasped and talked in fear, only a handful booed their dislike. She moved back and retrieved Cáleb’s sword in her hand, Nari hovered over him and raised the sword, the crowd panicked as she stabbed downward, and the sword sunk firmly into the dirt next to his face. The company themselves let out their held breaths as they stared at the scene.

She leaned down to address him, “It’s over,” she hissed, and stood up quickly, marching away from the fight to the opposite direction of where the company stood, not having seen them.

The company fumbled for their coin sacks as they made their exchanges, those who lost admitting that they had clearly underestimated her capabilities, while the others roared in triumph at their winnings.

“Narriel.” A female voice called out sternly, making her halt and shrink a little, she glimpsed up at the elf that stood tall on the side of the hay-wain, and bowed her head to look at the ground when she saw the look on her face.

Nari immediately walked passed the elf, appearing shameful as she avoided further eye contact, the company watched in confusion and took in the features of the new figure, wearing a long flowing powder blue dress that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight.

“I suggest you come along, Thorin Oakenshield and Company,” she spoke calmly but the command behind it was clear, and she didn’t even look back to see if they were following.

Nari and the mysterious elf maid had disappeared from sight as Callon led the company onward after them, they didn’t even make conversation as they walked, as an uneasy feeling began to settle for all of them.

Nari waited impatiently for her, and she was met with an equally frustrated face from the elf maid as she entered and climbed the small steps towards her throne, looking back at Nari.

“You should apologise for humiliating Cáleb in such a way, what you did was unreasonable and unladylike to say the least, especially in front of all those villagers,” Nari rolled her eyes and sighed.

Lúthrien smirked at Nari from where she stood next to the throne, clearly satisfied that her sister was about to be punished for her actions; causing Nari to glare and cross her arms indignantly; she looked to the elf once again.

“I will not apologise for my actions, he has been pestering me for the last sixty years wanting courtship where he had no chance, not after what he did,”

“I really wish you’d give him a chance dear,” she frowned deeply as she looked at her.

“He betrayed my trust; I cannot simply let that pass by-”

“He played no part-”

“I wish ye would stop making excuses for him!” The company stopped by the entrance, unnoticed by the bickering women, and they shifted on their feet uncomfortably.

“And I wish you didn’t have the same stubbornness as your father,” she said curtly, Nari glared at her for some time, before Thorin cleared his throat loudly and revealed their presence.

“Apologies Thorin and Master Dwarves,” the elf maid shot a look at Nari and waved her hand, “Please come inside, I’m sure you must have some questions,”

“Yes indeed, thank you,” Thorin entered, followed by the company, and Callon took his place next to his sister, standing with his hands behind his back.

“I am Misteth, Eossimar’s ruling Queen,” she introduced herself, “And also mother to the three standing here with you,”

The company’s jaws dropped collectively as they looked to Nari and Callon, Kíli and Fíli looked to each other and back to the siblings, and the group chatted excitedly.

“So… ye’re a, a princess then?” Bofur asked Nari in amazement.

“By birth I might be, but I’m not above anyone,” she briefly met his gaze but quickly returned it to her mother.

Misteth chuckled, “My oldest being ever so humble,” she shook her head, “Now as much as I’d like to give you time to process all this new information, I think it’s best to get to why you have come here. I’m sure Narriel and Callon have already helped you somewhat, but I’m certain you would like to get your hands on some weapons?”

“Yes,” Thorin nodded, “And your children have been very welcoming to us,”

“I am glad to hear that my daughter still has some manners, considering the ruckus and madness I stumbled upon not too long ago,” Misteth said, looking at Nari with disappointment, and she bowed her head down irritably at her mother’s remark. “I’ll let the Captain of the Guard show you to the weaponry and armoury before you leave,”

“Thank you, we will be sure to return our thanks to the people of Eossimar once we’ve reached Erebor,” he assured her, and then he looked around with a frown, “So where is this Captain of yours?”

Misteth looked to Nari, “I believe you’re already acquainted with her,”

Dwalin was the first to speak, “Princess and Captain of the Guard?”

Nari crossed her arms, “Aye, don’t be so surprised. I’m the best fighter in the village, as I’m sure ye’ve just witnessed,”

“It’s best that you go on your way Master Dwarves, and Master Hobbit,” Misteth suggested, “And I wish you the best of luck on the rest of your quest.” She paused as Callon led the company out of the hall, “And Narriel, I’ll have a word with you in private once you’ve finished,” she nodded her head with a serious gaze, before turning around and walking on to Lúthrien.

“Yes, Mother,” she mumbled and followed them out.

Nari walked tensely next to her brother on the way to the armoury, her hands now balled into fists as she focused her attention ahead of her.

Kíli popped up next to her and she frowned at him irritably, “You know, sometimes my mother would get angry at me sometimes,”

“Kíli-” Fíli stepped up and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder to pull him back.

He ignored his brother and continued despite her lack of response, “But as much as it would anger or sadden me, I knew she would only say those things out of love,”

“Aye?” she asked stopping still, tightening her fists, “And I’m sure yer mother wished for ye to be prim and proper like yer sister, with long flowing hair and pretty pink dresses instead of-”

“{Sister, breathe},” Callon touched her shoulder gently, she let out a shaky breath and let her hands fall open, he looked at her and she nodded.

“Sorry Kíli,” she mumbled, “I know ye were only trying to help,” she sighed and carried on walking. “Ever since my father passed it’s been hard to maintain a relationship with those two,”

“Why is that?” Kíli asked.

“Because… well…” she couldn’t think of an explanation.

“Because our sister and mother are very similar, and they’re both, a bit snobbish if I’m to be honest,” Callon answered, “Our father was the one who brought out the fun in them, at least that’s what I remember of him,”

“Besides that… my father decided to toughen me up since the assault from those dwarf boys, and started to treat me as if I were a lad instead,” Nari added, “She’d never admit to it, but I’m certain she’s disappointed that her daughter acts as a son,”

“Well I would think that a lass that could hold her own would be a relief for her parents,” Dwalin spoke up, “I would certainly be at ease if I had a daughter who could punch off any cheeky admirers the way you just did,”

“Aye and it was a sight to see,” Bofur agreed, taking to Nari’s side, making Kíli and Fíli fall back easily with the others.

“Aye, I heard ye all placing yer bets,” she smirked making Bofur grin sheepishly, “Ye really need to work on lowering yer voices,”

“About that lad-”

“Here we are,” Callon announced, he held his hand out to her, “Do ye have the key?”

“Oh damn, it’s back in the mess hall,” she shook her head after feeling her pockets, he waved his hand.

“No matter,” he pulled a hair pin from under his braiding and slid it into the lock, he wiggled it until it clicked and popped open, “Been meaning to practice my lock-picking,” he grinned, removing the lock and pushing the doors open.

“Does everyone in yer family know how to pick locks?” Bofur asked as they walked inside.

“Well my nephews and niece have nearly perfected it too,” she gave him a cheeky smile. “Can’t see a reason not to know,”

The company walked around the large room to take everything in, Callon taking pride in showing Fíli the multitude of swords and pointing out the arrows for Kíli, Nari smiled as they wondered in fascination. All of them touched and examined what interested them, finding variations that they did not expect, and trying to determine what they’d like best for themselves.

Bofur was among the first to finish his choice and stood next to Nari outside, “Erm, if ye don’t mind me coming back to my question, about the lad?” he propped himself against the other side of the entrance.

“I suppose it’s best to ease yer curiosity,” she chuckled, “Cáleb… hmm, well, he’s roughly my age, his family was one of the first to live here in Eossimar, we sort of grew up together, and he was with my father when he got injured and later died,”

“Why had he been with yer father?”

“I told my father that it was more than likely that the dwarves would fall back to Moria, the old kingdom he’d told me about, after Smaug desolated Erebor; so he, Cáleb and several others went on to help them fight and have a place to claim as home. My father had ordered me to stay home,” she looked around before looking back to Bofur.

“But ye didn’t, did ye?” he asked solemnly, she shook her head.

“If Cáleb hadn’t been so fearful, he could have prevented the injury from ever happening, he could’ve been alive,” she spoke softly, “I watched him freeze as my father got held by some orcs as a target, they shot him with one of their arrows, and then left him to die.”

“An arrow, like Kíli’s?” he asked, she nodded.

“I’d managed to kill off a few orcs but then the fight suddenly ended when Azog fled, I believe from Thorin’s assault. We managed to bring my father back home, but he died from the poison,” she took a deep breath, “He promised to protect my father, and I trusted him to bring him back home safely, and not only did he fail, but he tried to tell me it was beyond his control,”

“That must’ve been terrible, watching yer father become sick like that,” Bofur spoke quietly.

“Believe me, it was. We had no understanding of how to heal him at the time,”

“But now, what does this all have to do with yer fight and… marriage?”

Nari laughed derisively, “Cáleb had been trying to court me, and he was trying to ask my father for his blessing while he was on his deathbed,” she shook her head in disgust, “My father was likely mad from the poison, or very confident in my abilities,”

“I don’t understand,” Bofur frowned.

“He told Cáleb, that if he wanted my hand in marriage he’d have to duel me and win, little did he know that my father informed me to never let ‘that idiot’ beat me, and so for the past sixty years he’d been persisting,”

“For sixty years? I’d say I was sorry for the lad but it seems a bit excessive to keep trying,” Bofur shook his head, “He should’ve learned when to quit years ago,”

“I agree,” she nodded, “Which is why this was the last duel,” she smiled at him.

“Well that explains why ye kicked his arse so hard,” Bofur chuckled, “It was both impressive and terrifying to see yer strength ye know.”

She laughed, “Aye, it goes to show ye that looks don’t mean everything, yer companion Dwalin might be built like an ox, but I’m certain he can be soft hearted and compassionate like any of us,”

“What did you say about me being soft?” Dwalin barked from inside the room, he nearly dropped the axe he was wielding.

“Nothing Dwalin,” Nari called back and he huffed, moving out of the room to stand in the fresh air.

“That’s what I thought,” he grumbled irritably.

Soon the others made their way out, and Balin stopped near them, “And this father of yours, who was he then?”

“He was a member of the guard back in Erebor, Kalin, son of-”

“Fundin?” Dwalin walked up to them.

“Aye, did ye know him?” she frowned, looking at both of them as they looked to each other in surprise.

“Are you certain that was his name?” Dwalin stared at her.

“Of course I am, why?” she looked between them again.

“He was our…” Balin started.

“Brother,” he and Dwalin finished, they looked at each other in disbelief.

“Brother? But that means…” She scanned their faces and connected the dots.

“Hold still for a moment,” Balin asked as he moved forward, he raised his hand to cover half of her face, showing mostly her eye and damaged ear. “Dwalin, I told you he’d had a daughter, this is her,” he lowered his hand and lightly grabbed her shoulders, taking in her features, and she froze as she looked at him.

“Kalin was the youngest of us three,” Dwalin spoke up, “We’d heard that he’d had words with Thrór, but we never saw him again… I, I trained him myself,” his mind began racing.

“The only time I managed to see you, you were hiding behind your father’s legs, you were shy, and perhaps a little scared,” Balin’s eyes sparkled and he hugged Nari tightly and stepped back. “I knew he’d run off after a maiden but… an elf?”

“And I never even met you, until now,” Dwalin stared at her, “You resemble so much of your father now that I think about it,” he almost choked, “A part of our brother still lives on Balin,” he stepped forward and hugged Nari tightly, she rubbed his back gently, still slightly shocked.

“I remember why yer names were so familiar now,” she stepped back and looked at them, “Balin the Wise and Dwalin the Fierce, he used to tell us stories about ye.”

“‘Us’?” Dwalin asked.

“Aye, us,” Callon walked up to them. “Though Lúthrien always thought they were fairy tales,” he said.

“So we have… two nieces and a nephew that Kalin hid from us,” Balin stared at the siblings. “This is very overwhelming indeed,”

“I think it's wonderful,” Nari laughed lightly, “Callon and I certainly would welcome ye with open arms to the family…” she looked at him and he nodded with a smile.

“As much as I am glad to witness this reunion of families,” Thorin interrupted the gathering, “We are running short on time,”

Nari cleared her throat, “Of course, and everyone is ready?” She scanned the company and they all gave their agreements. “Then we’ll be on our way,”

Nari and Callon led the way towards the main entrance once again, and the dwarves took one more look at their surroundings as they walked; families conversing together, children playing loudly, the marketplace coming to a slow, the ponies that hadn’t been seen before whinnying in the distance, along with other farm animals getting their say in.

It was all too familiar for them, Erebor had been much the same before the dragon had fallen upon them like a curse, and they so longed for home to be theirs once more; to bring their own families joy once again.

Bofur noticed three little heads not too far away staring in curiosity, he grinned as he recognised the children, Nari’s family; and he gave them a wave, they all waved back eagerly and he even heard the girl yelling a goodbye for them. He chuckled, a few dwarves looked at him and he shook his head, deciding to keep this as a memory for himself.

____________________________________________________________

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reinabell · 5 years

Text

Far From Home (Thorin x Reader)

youtube

A/N: So, I believe the song Far From Home (The Raven) by Sam Tinnesz is such a perfect song for Thorin. The video is above. I wanted to make a story about the reader singing it and Thorin being a bit awe struck. I decided to make the reader from our modern world, and she fell into Middle Earth, I’m sure you might have read stories like these where the reader is modern an stuff. Anyways, I hope you enjoy my first Thorin fanfic! Let me know if I captured his character correctly.

-Part 1- , Part 2

Pairing: Thorin x Modern!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, angst, again?

Word Count: No idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remembered when I woke up here, Middle Earth. I had seen the movies, and read the books. I highly enjoyed J.R.R Tolkiens writings, they helped me escape reality. But to really, really, be in the story. That was something new entirely. The company was around me when I woke, of course naturally I freaked the fuck out. I was no longer in the safety of my own home, and strangers where circling me. I yelled and got up quickly, backing away only to have my back hit another person. That person I now know as Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey. He was one of my favorite people in Lord of The Rings and The Hobbit.

They argued about what they should do with me... Gandalf said said that I’m a good omen or something of that sort and they should bring me along. To which some agreed, but the leader, Thorin, of course did not. The thing that really got Thorin to bring me with was the fact that I was alone, and if they left me out here I would surely die. He said they would drop me off at the nearest town they could.

I soon found out that I dropped in just a day before they ran into the Trolls who stole the ponies. Let’s just say that ordeal was... a bit traumatizing in person. Trolls are disgusting. Although I knew of how this story goes, and what the company and I would face, it was different to actually be in a life threatening situation over and over again.

Then soon after being captured by Trolls we played a life endangering game of Hide and Seek. I am not a good runner, never was. Thorin was quite pissed when I kept falling behind and nearly falling on my ass every 5 seconds. So he just kept a hold on me, literally. I thank him for saving my life, although I did not appreciate being thrown into a rocky hole in the ground. That hurt.

Let me say, Rivendell is absolutely beautiful! It’s bigger than shown in the movies, much more places to explore. At the dinner I sat with Elrond, Gandalf, and Thorin (and Bilbo?). That made me really nervous, but Elrond seemed to know that I was not from this world. He practily took a look at me and told Thorin “Take her with you”, in a much fancier way, of course. I don’t know if it’s because he knew I knew the fate of them, or because he didn’t want me there. I hoped it was not the latter. Either way, Thorin wasn’t so happy. It took a lot of talking to get him to finally agree to take me with him. Elrond had approached me after dinner and said I was always welcome in Rivendell if I decided I didn’t want to go with the company, I kinda wanted to take his offer but I knew I had to save the line of Durin. I wanted to make a difference.

Giant mountain rock monsters? Terrifying. But I survived, so that’s good. The Goblins, I fucking hate them. They’re worse then the Trolls. When It came time to run again, Thorin quickly realized I’m still, in fact, slow. So he once again kept his hold on me, another point to Thorin for keeping me alive. Oh, and this is about the time that it finally kicked in that I’m in Middle Earth, but I managed to dodge that crisis of realization by having to run for my life, once again. Surprisingly, I managed to keep up this time.

Dwalin kept on having to pull me up from the tree branches because I kept falling. Point to Dwalin. I realized I have an overwhelming fear of heights, at least when I’m hanging from a tree for dear life. Bilbo mustered up his courage and did his, “I’mma save Thorin” thing. Thank god, because I was too busy trying not to fall to my death. The Eagles came to our rescue, a point to Gandalf because I was literally falling when they came.

Once we where put down on Pride Rock, I had to sit the fuck down to catch my breath. That Bilbo and Thorin hug was sweet, but then the realization had time to fully hit me, it was not fun. Would I get to go home? Did I really want to? I wasn’t sure, but my mood was the lowest it had been in a while. I guess the Durin brothers realized I was quieter then normal, so they tried to cheer me up. It kinda worked, but not much. I managed to convince them I was only tired, so they gave in and let me be.

Soon after came more running, Thorin kept his hold on me as soon as we started running. Thorin earned his third point for saving my life, funny thing is that it was all over the same thing. Running. That leads us to where we are now, in Beorns house. I was very thankful to have a place to properly relax. Of course I started to thing more about the fact that I might never see my family again, and may not be able to save the Durins, which of course made me sad. I sat farther away from everyone else, I decided to get my mind of all the bad by taking a look around, so I did. There wasn’t much to really look at, but a guitar caught my interest. It was a little big but I didn’t mind.

I always enjoyed playing the guitar back on Earth, so I picked it up and sat down with it in my lap, I started to play a tune to one of my favorite songs.

“You play the guitar, lass?” Bofur called from across the room.

“Yes.” I gave him a short answer. I hadn’t talked much to anyone in the company, I mostly only talked to Fili and Kili and even that wasn’t often, so it caught me off guard.

“You where playing a tune you seem to know, mind singing it?” Fili said.

“Oh- no no, I’m not a good singer.” I replied with a chuckle.

“Sure you are, just give it a try.” Kili joined in with his brother. He had a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“It may lighten the mood.” Bofur added.

“The tune I was playing isn’t exactly a happy song, Bofur.” I said. “Nor do I know how to play any other song.”

“Well, I would sure like to hear it either way.” He said.

“Yes! Please do sing for us Y/n.” Fili added, once again.

“Leave the poor lass be.” Balin said across from the room, but they ignored him.

“Once we take back Erebor, I’ll ask Uncle to add your chambers into the royalty part of the mountain! We would have windows unlike the rest of the mountain.” Kili said.

“Kili, what makes you think I want to stay in Erebor?” I asked with a giggle. Kili put his hand over his heart and gasped, mocking offense.

“Seriously though, will you sing for us?” Kili said.

“If I do, will you all shut up about it?”I asked them all. “No offense.” I added.

“Promise.” Fili said. Bofur, Kili, and surprisingly Ori, who had been listening, nodded along.

“Okay then...” I said. A small sigh escaped my lips, I didn’t think this through. I really didn’t want to sing in front of everyone. For a moment everyone seemed to get quiet, but I ignored it and put the guitar up in the right position. I took a deep breathe and...

(Play song now if you want to, video is above. I know the song isn’t with a guitar or a female but just pretend I guess.)

I'm sending raven Black bird in the sky Sending a signal that I'm here Some sign of life

I'm sending a message Of feathers and bone Just let me know I'm not forgotten Out here alone

The air is cold The night is long I feel like I might fade into the dawn Fade until I'm gone

Oh I'm so far from home So far from home Oh Not where I belong Not where I belong Oh

I'm so far from home So far from home

I'm sending a raven With blood on its wings Hoping it reaches you in time And you know what it means

Cause out here in the darkness And out of the light If you get to me too late Just know that I tried

Oh I'm so far from home So far from home Oh Not where I belong Where I belong Oh I'm so far from home So far from home

The air is cold The night is long I feel like I might fade into the dawn Fade until I'm gone

Oh I'm so far from home So far from home Oh Not where I belong Where I belong Oh I'm so far from home So far from home

Oh Not where I belong Where I belong So far from home Not where I belong I'm so far from home

The song ended and everyone was quiet, I started to get really nervous and embarrassed. I laughed it off, and tried to play it cool.

“I told you it wasn’t really a happy song.” I said, while looking at the ground.

“That was beautiful, lass.” Balin said, his eyes held a gentle look to them.

“It really was.” Ori added.

“Um, Thank you. I know I don’t have the best voice and all...” My voice trailed off.

“Oh, it was amazing Y/n! You should sing more often.” Kili said. He had a bright smile on his face.

“You flatter me.” I laughed. I kept my eyes to the ground though. Suddenly, Thorin spoke up.

“Everyone, find a place to rest. We have a long day ahead of us.” Thorin said. I looked up and gave everyone a small smile the got up and walked to a different room. I pretended to be looking for something but really I just needed to calm my nerves. After a while of “looking”, I sat down at the table and laid my head down.

“Everyone is getting rest, you should too.” I heard Thorin’s voice say. I simply hummed as a responce, keeping my head down. I heard shuffling and a chair move, I guess that he sat down opposite of me.

“I know it wasn’t your choice to go on this trip. So if you want, we can drop you off next town, where ever that it.” He spoke. I lifted my head up to look at him.

“Thorin, you have it wrong. I chose to go on this journey, Elrond offered me to stay in Rivendell if I didn’t want to go on the quest, but I declined. I chose this.” I told him. He stayed quiet for a moment.

“Why?” He asked.

“What?”

“Why did you chose to come along? You can’t fight, you can’t even run. Why did you come along?” Thorin replied. I was a bit hurt, he really didn’t want me on this quest, did he? It took a moment for me to respond, I looked down at my hands.

“I know I slow the company down... I know I get in the way. I try not to, I really do, but it happens anyways. But...” I looked up back at Thorin, his blue eyes locked with mine. “I know why I’m here, I don’t know how, but I know what I’m supposed to do. And I intend to do it. You may not know but I do.” I finished. Thorin was quiet his eyes now on the table, he was deep in thought.

“That song...” He started, his voice was strangly softer than before. I hadn’t seen this side of him. He looked back up to me, and I seemed to read the question that was on his mind.

“I don’t know if I’m going home, Thorin.” I answered for him. “I’m not even sure if I want to...”

“Any reason for that?” He asked me.

“Yeah, but I won’t tell you.” I stated simply, a smile graced my lips. Thorin nearly smiled back but he stopped himself.

“Get some rest, we don’t want you slowing us down more than you already do.” He said, his voice was still soft though. I laughed and got up from my seat.

“You too, Thorin.”

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I really don’t know how I did on this. I had an idea, idk if I executed it right. I also have no idea how to write Thorin’s character so If you have any idea’s on how to improve let me know. Not even sure if there is enough Thorin x Reader in there. This might just be the begining of a story, maybe I can make a part 2 so I can add more Thorin x Reader. Oof, I really don’t know about this one. Give me an honest review so I can improve :)

#thorin oakenshield #thorin #thorin x reader #the company of thorin oakenshield #fanfic #songfic? I guess in a way #thorin imagine #AHHH HELP ME #dont hug me im scared

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drakewalkerfantasy · 5 years

Text

Flames of yesterday: Chapter 14

Summary: 5 years ago they made a mistake. They were two broken men drinking away their love life issues, and one girl trying to help a friend. What the night leaves them with are two broken hearts and one nearly broken friendship. 5 years later, two are still broken and another one fixed. But what happens when they all meet again? Will it open old wounds and bring all the their insecurities rushing back? Or will it mend the two hearts still looking for warmth, unable to find it after their parting?

Words: 2468

Authors notes: A crossover of Open Heart and The Elementalists, a collaboration series by @drakewalkerfantasy and @fluffy-marshmallow-heart

Ethan x OH MC (Diana)

Beckett x TE MC (Oriana)

**Warnings: no warnings**

Diana and Beckett stood in Ethan’s office while he glared at them. “What do you mean, you’re bringing your wife?”

“She’s pregnant. Why would I leave her behind?” Beckett puzzled.

“It’s one weekend. You’re not going to be gone long. You know, it’s recommended that women do not fly in their third trimester.”

“So I’ve read.” Beckett fumed. “But seeing as there’s suddenly a trip I have to go on, she’s not staying by herself.”

Ethan sighed. “I can tell Harper to pick someone else.”

“If Doctor Harrington doesn’t go, then I also will not attend. So you can tell Chief Emery to find two different interns to attend this conference with you. Or just go by yourself.” Diana informed.

Ethan blinked, caught off guard. “You two are putting me in a very difficult position. How am I supposed to explain that the two top interns both refuse to go to this conference in Miami? I can tell you now, if you back out, it will negatively impact your careers here.”

“We’ll pay for Oriana’s ticket, no one is asking the hospital to pay for additional airfare. We’ll pay for her meals and beverages. There’s already three rooms booked. This really shouldn’t affect anything. Why don’t you want her to go?” Beckett demanded.

Ethan curled his hand around his stress ball, clenching it tightly. In truth, it wouldn’t be a big deal if Beckett’s wife came, not as long as they didn’t expect the hospital to reimburse for airfare and food. The real reason he didn’t want Oriana to come was more complicated. Two males, two females…two couples. Beckett would of course spend time with his wife and leave Ethan and Diana alone, which would equal disaster. How is he going to resist her? He sighed heavily.

“Fine. She may come. You better book her plane ticket now.”

“There’s one more thing.” Diana said nervously.

Ethan rose his eyebrow. “What else could there possibly be Ms. Haynes?”

Diana shifted uncomfortably. “Well, see…Oriana may be under the impression that…well, that you invited her along. That since because she’s so far along in her pregnancy, you decided that she shouldn’t be left alone for a weekend, and since she’ll be with three doctors around the clock, she’s safer coming to Miami.”

He sat there speechless. “This was my idea?”

“That’s what Oriana thinks.”

Ethan couldn’t help but notice Beckett was silent, letting Diana do all the talking now. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Diana was the one to invite Oriana, and Beckett was also caught off guard by this. And given that Beckett said he wasn’t going to come if his wife didn’t…it was obvious what happened. Diana didn’t want to be alone with him. It should be a good thing. He should be relieved. But he’s not. He can’t help but feel a bit hurt by that.

As the next couple weeks went by, both Ethan and Harper discussed with Diana and Beckett what they could expect, and what was expected from them. It all seemed simple enough, and soon they were all on their way.

Their seats on the plane were all separate, except for Beckett and Oriana’s, since the hospital didn’t care if they all sat together or not, and it was less expensive to seat them separately. Since Beckett booked Oriana’s ticket, she was able to sit right next to him.

Finally landing in Miami, the four of them grabbed their luggage and a shuttle to the hotel the conference was being held at. Walking into the lobby, Diana stopped and gazed around at the lavish decorations. Ethan approached, placing his hand on the small of her back.

“I forgot you’ve never been to one of these. Don’t be too excited, it’s actually extremely boring.”

Diana laughed lightly. “I guess we’ll find out.”

They grinned at each other until Ethan realized he was still touching her. He stepped away quickly, clearing his throat. “Would you mind checking us in? There’s someone I need to say hello too.”

Diana rolled her eyes but walked over to the front desk. “Three rooms for Ethan Ramsey.”

The concierge typed into his computer. “Hmm. I do have a reservation for Ethan Ramsey, however, it’s for two rooms, not three.” He looked at her expectantly.

“No, it was definitely booked for three. You need to give us a third room.” Diana told him, feeling her nerves alighting.

The man frowned. “I’m so sorry, but due to the conference all the rooms are booked through the weekend. You could try another hotel, but they are more than likely full as well.”

Diana had to take several deep breaths and swallowed hard. She knew there was no way in hell that Beckett wasn’t going to share a room with his wife. Which just left her and Ethan. Thinking back, she realized…Chief Emery never confirmed the number of rooms with them. She realized in horror that she must have thought the two men would share a room to save on costs, and wasn’t made aware of a fourth person going. She groaned loudly.

“Okay, fine, two rooms. We’ll figure it out.”

The concierge brightened and handed her the key cards. “I hope you enjoy your stay!”

Diana scanned the room until her eyes finally landed on Ethan, who was actually standing at the bar with a drink in hand already. She curled her hands into fists and she marched over. “What the hell, Ethan? This is who you needed to say hello to? A fucking drink?”

“Lower your voice.” He hissed. “What’s the matter.”

“Did you know the Chief Emery only booked two rooms? How could you let that happen? If you think Beckett and Oriana are going split up, you are sadly mistaken, and I don’t blame them.” She jabbed the keycards into his chest. “Two rooms, Ethan. Two.”

Ethan felt like the wind was knocked out of him. “No, she booked three.”

“Oh really? Then how do you explain this?” Diana folded her arms across her chest, not even noticing Beckett and Oriana approaching.

“I…I can’t. I’m sure I can get another one, let me just…”

“They’re booked. Every hotel is booked because of this conference.” Diana snapped. “Honestly, Dr. Ramsey, how did you miss this detail? You seem to miss a lot of details, actually, when it comes to me.”

“Is everything okay?” Beckett asked nervously.

“Peachy. Here’s your room key.” She thrust one of the cards into Beckett’s hand. “I’ll be in my room, Ethan. You can figure it out.” She stomped away.

“What just happened?” Beckett demanded.

“Harper messed up the reservation and there’s only two rooms. She must have thought you and I would share a room to cut costs.” He eyed Beckett and his now very pregnant wife. “I don’t suppose you would mind…?”

“Oh I would definitely mind.” Beckett told him. “We’re interns here under your supervision. Oriana and I are going to bring our things to our room. I suggest you straighten this out, and quickly.”

“Beck...” Oriana started.

“Nope! Let’s go.” He took her hand, leading her away and leaving Ethan behind, dumbfounded. Once inside their room, Oriana looked at him questioningly.

“It really wouldn’t have been a big deal if I shared a room with Diana. Don’t you think it’s going to be uncomfortable for them? You’re so level-headed I’m surprised you didn’t suggest it…or let me suggest it.”

Beckett stifled a laugh. “Trust me, Ori. This is payback. It’s the best form of karma.”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

He just shrugged. “Let’s just say that her idea got her into this mess. And I, for one, am extremely happy to share a bed with my beautiful wife.” He cupped her face in his hands, looking at her adoringly before kissing her sweetly. “I bet they’ll be together by the end of the conference. You really think they can share a room with one bed for an entire weekend without taking things further? And then they’re stuck together to work it out. No more running away.”

“Ah, there’s my confidant guy. That’s…actually pretty genius.” Oriana kissed him again before pulling back apologetically. “I have to pee, like, now.” She dashed into the bathroom while Beckett began to unpack, smirking as he did so, wondering what was going on in the room next door.

“I cannot believe you never told Harper that Oriana was coming!” Diana exclaimed, watching as Ethan paced their hotel room. He had been completely unsuccessful in getting another room; they didn’t even have an extra cot available at this point.

“Don’t you think I’m chastising myself enough as it is.” He chided. “I’ve done everything I can think of. We just need to ask Beckett and Oriana again.”

“Go for it. Don’t expect a different answer. They’re both stubborn.”

“Perfect.” Ethan mumbled, his eyes darting around the room. “I’ll take the chair. It’s fine.”

“You’re right. Sharing a bed with me is the worst possible thing that could ever happen to you, right?” Diana said sarcastically.

Ethan’s eyes widened. “Share a bed? Are you insane?”

Diana’s jaw dropped, her hands once again balling into fists. “Why are you such an asshole?”

“Why are you so difficult?” He clapped back. “You’re the one who invited Oriana, this is all on you, not me!”

Diana’s mouth opened to retort, but she had none. He was right. She brought it on herself. She hadn’t even realized how close they had both moved to each other until his crystal blue eyes met hers with an intensity she hadn’t seen in years, that caused her breath to hitch. But it was gone as fast as it came as he turned and grabbed a blanket and pillow off the queen-sized bed, settling in for the night. He pretended to sleep while Diana got in her pajamas, groaning to himself when he saw it was a crop top and short shorts. There’s no way that wasn’t on purpose.

Neither one really slept well, both lost in their thoughts, both trying to stay quiet so the other wouldn’t know the other is awake. The next day, as they attended the first round of seminars, Ethan and Diana always sat with Beckett between them. Since Oriana couldn’t attend the seminars, she remained in the room taking a nap. Beckett rolled his eyes every single time they would put him between them. He’d finally managed to get over his awkwardness around Ethan, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be next to him constantly, when clearly Diana and Ethan should be together. Luckily the conference weekend wasn’t very long, and before they knew it, it was already the last day, which ended with an elegant dinner in the Grand Ballroom. Diana and Oriana were beyond excited to dress up for the occasion and show up the new dresses they both bought the previous day.

Diana sat on the bed of their hotel room, digging through her travel bag searching for sexy set of underwear to match the beautiful blue midnight dress laying in front of her, paired with a silver stiletto.

Meantime Ethan was showering in the ensuite, door opened so they could easily communicate.

“Why didn’t you tell me there was a reception?” berated him Diana, taking out a silver set of underwear that barely would cover anything.

“Because it was the furthest possible thing from my mind at the time. Also didn’t I pay enough for not telling you earlier? I think you and Mrs. Harrington had a lot of fun, making me and Mr. Harrington to go shopping with you and pay for your dresses.”

Glancing over at the bathroom mirror Diana was fully prepared to reply with a snarky comment, until she seen Ethan climbing out of the shower, the towel wrapped low around his hips. She could feel how her heart flipped inside her chest, all her thoughts went out of her minds and her pulse raised. Blatantly, her eyes slid along Ethan’s body and her tongue ran along her lower lip, sinking her teeth into it to suppress a moan. Not even noticing, how Ethan’s pupils dilated from that simple gesture and a groan almost slipped from his throat.

Swallowing hard Diana raised her eyes meeting Ethan’s dark gaze in the mirror, both not able to look away, both pulled by invisible power toward each other. Before they even could realise it they stood in front of each other, their lips just a breath away and Ethan’s hands circled around her waist bringing her even closer, letting her know exactly what she was doing with him.

Screw it… thought Ethan closing his eyes and moving forward ready for their lips to meet, but before it could happen they heard a quiet knock on the door and Beckett's voice ring through it.

“Dr. Ramsey, Diana are you ready to go or do you want to meet us in the restaurant?” asked Beckett pulling them from a daze they were into.

“Dr. Harrington, we will be 15 minutes. Meet us at the table.” replied Ethan clearing his throat. “He always has a hell of a timing,” groaned he quietly, making her to giggle. “Let’s get dressed or we will be late and I’m not sure if Dr. Harrington and his lovely wife will appreciate us making them wait.”

“You don’t know Oriana… We may be still the one waiting for them,” said Diana, laughing from his confused expression, her happy laugh making him smile.

After a moment, she slipped into her new outfit, admiring herself in the mirror. Her hands sliding along her sides, the midnight blue dress hugged her forms perfectly leaving little for imagination, her silver stiletto shoes clasped safely around her ankle with a subtle strap. She looked toward the door watching Ethan emerge from the bathroom where he went to put on his tax. His hairs still tousled from the shower and his eyes trail over Diana.

“Ohhh… you… you, uh, look nice,” mumbled Ethan.

“Dr. Ramsey, you look smart yourself,” said Diana taking a step closer to him, her hands travel from the waist of his pants up his body, feeling how his muscles ripple under her touch and a soft painted groan escape his throat. Her hands reaching for his bow-tie adjusting it, and they both turn to the mirror, his hand placed on the small of her back.

“I would say we look ready, wouldn’t you?” smirked Ethan, meeting her gaze in the mirror, his hand grazing her bare back a little and a light shiver ran down her spine from the touch.

“Absolutely,” replied Diana, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything but his hand traveling up and down her bare back before resting once again on her small back.

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