o in Thrymskivida from norse myth, the frost giant Thrym gains possession of Mjolnir and demands Freyja in return (then cross-dressing and hilarity ensues, but I digress...). I want a fic where Thrym demands Loki as a consort. Odin's like "Pppffff, your funeral, man' and poor Loki gets bundled off to Jotunheim. I'd love some cultural relativism here - Thrym expects Loki to be very grateful that he 'saved' him from the Asgardians (because the Jotuns think of them as Those Warmongering Brutes and their own realm as the centre of all culture and learning).

"Let's say that Loki is Laufey's youngest, a useless runt except for how his small stature, shifting abilities and royal blood makes him perfect for a political marriage with Asgard."

In which a mutant too famous to cull is dropped like a grenade into the midst of the peace process, a foolish monarch proves himself secretly shrewd, the power of friendship functions as a force multiplier, and it is discovered that in the Great Game of espionage, the dealer does not always win.

Derek as Khal Drogo (but set in snow beyond the wall) and Stiles as Daenerys Stormborn (although he's a greenseer of the Children rather than a dragon)

"No, but answer me this, do you want to invalidate this whole farce of a legal and religious joining of blah-di-fucking-blah? Because I have looked at your laws and if we don't consummate the union it's not valid!" -- Anonymous asked: Davekat. Arranged marriage! The first time they are alone together is on their wedding night.

*Could we have more of the arranged marriage ficlet? Pretty please? *Oh goodness is it too late to ask for a wedding night continuation? Are these prompts still a thing?? *DaveKat: First time ( could be continuation of other prompt or not) Karkat has mad bedroom skills and Dave tries to keep his cool. * Arranged Marriage Ficlet! Tomorrow! Deverginizing Dave

They cannot see, but she does. Myrcella sees.

For a prompt on my Tumblr: omg Utakata and Haku making delicate icebubble art pieces in the winter and Zabuza scoffs at them but he still sits and watches them put the pieces together and even volunteers kubikiribocho sometimes because that hole at the end is a pretty good bubble ring.

Tsuna and Xanxus get married. Tsuna and Xanxus get even.

It had been a drunken whim, coming on the heels of his breakup with Yugao, to add his name to the list of candidates for political marriages, and even when he’d remembered the next morning Hayate had waved off the notion that anyone would pick him. Most people are at least mildly alarmed by a shinobi with a chronic illness, after all.

Nagato is in over his head, and getting deeper.

Before he follows, Shisui takes one more look out the cold glass, and shivers. He can hear the floe grinding against the surrounding ice, an eerie, disconcerting sound, like a massive beast growling in the darkness. The howl of the wind is a high, lonely counterpoint, a forsaken sound, and Shisui grits his teeth and forces himself to ignore it. He’ll get used to the sound someday. He won't have a choice.

Ichigo's found his Sky. Things are just...a little turbulent while everyone adjusts.

“It’s impossible,” Wen Qing said, her voice flat and eyes icy. “Literally impossible. It would kill you both.” “But –” “If you don’t care about your own life, at least care about his,” she said, and Wei Wuxian fell silent; she’d hit him right where it hurt the most, and he turned and stormed away. Wen Qing waited, watching as Wen Ning ran after him, distressed by his distress, and when he was finally out of earshot, she said, “You may regret that, one day.” Behind her there was a rusty bark of laughter, if that horrible twisted sound, low and grating and rasping at the throat until it bled, could be called a laugh. “I won’t,” Jiang Cheng said. “Thank you for lying to him.”

[*standing alone and stunned with an armful of Feelings™* Uhhh…] This is not what they wanted, and it’s almost enough that they both know that. Yanli knows that it’s not fair, because she has come out with the better half of the bargain–she gets to stay at Lotus Pier with her brothers, her people, her home. Jin Guangyao has been married off, outside of his Clan, practically abandoned to the plain faced sister of a Sect Leader; the second choice after his older brother’s engagement to her fell through with devastating finality. She doesn’t know if that bothers him–it would have driven A-Cheng to near lunacy, had the same happened to him. But Jin Guangyao has been patient in all of their meetings, his manner pleasant, his smile gentle.

“Qing-jie,” Wen Chao called, laughing; Wang Lingjiao at his side was positively cackling, tears in her eyes. “We found you a husband to match you, Qing-jie – look at him, a perfect fit for you: beautiful and useless! Say ‘thank you, Wen-gongzi’.” Jiang Cheng might be beautiful, underneath the tears and the blood that covered him, the ruin of his chest and back, the bruises that stained his flesh, but his eyes were empty and dull – as dead as the golden core inside of him that was no more. That wasn’t something her medicine could fix, even if Wen Chao would be inclined to let her try. “Thank you, Wen-gongzi,” Wen Qing said politely. “Do you want me to take him out of your sight?”

The Emperor looks at Tang Fan’s confused face and elaborates. “Tang Fan, you have caused quite a stir in the palace,” he pauses, “as Lady Tang.” Tang Fan frowns at Sui Zhou and Wang Zhi, both who are not quite meeting his eyes. “Your majesty, I don’t understand.” The Emperor smiles. “It is simple. The Empress Dowager wants a wedding. If you marry into the palace, Noble Consort Wan will be unhappy. If you don’t marry Sui Zhou, the Empress Dowager will be unhappy. We don’t want them unhappy.” - In which every party is once again scheming, Tang Fan and Sui Zhou are pawns, but somehow it ends up okay.

“Queen Miraj is going to betray you,” Feral says, and Cody practically jumps out of his own skin.

Maul is going to make himself a widower in short order.

“There’s still time to back out, you know,” Wei Ying says, quiet enough that even the attendants waiting at the corners of their table won’t hear. Lan Wangji pauses in the middle of reaching for the sash on Wei Ying’s—on his husband’s—outer robes. A pit opens in his stomach. His hand falls to his lap, and he lifts his eyes to meet Wei Ying’s. “Is that what you want?” --- The components of the marriage ceremony are easy in theory. The handfasting, the bows, the feast... and the Taking.

Sid is smitten. He was smitten from the start, he thinks. The first time he saw Zhenya's dark eyes and hair and smooth skin. The way his cheeks flush the same color as his mouth with exertion, or passion. Sid knows that people make comments about his own mouth, the way it would be more suited on a childbearing male, but he thinks that they can’t possibly have seen Zhenya's. The perfect, sweet cupid's bow of his upper lip and the plush, fat pout of the bottom one.

It’s actually his father who suggests it. “Take the rest of the summer for yourself,” he says. “Do something fun.” “Fun,” Sidney repeats blankly.

They make a point of it, always, telling Zhenya how beautiful Sidney is.

It's not like Phil goes around telling people that his old team bought him his best friend like some people buy hookers. He can't really talk about it with Bozie, either, because Bozie will just say something like, "Come on, I provide the full girlfriend experience," which is so much worse than actually being offended.

Bly's new wife is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and she's graceful and charming and funny and so far out of his league that he's about to die.

So he might have, at some point, tried to figure out an OC for Mobei-jun to ship w fuck. Dude was so perfect, it was a shame his dump truck ass and sequoia thighs remained unembraced. (Also the whole "he's so mysterious and never opens up and unveils his deep thoughts and tender feelings except for me" fantasy but never mind all that.) He'd gone exactly as far as 'Meeting: why tf would he notice anyone. Enemies to lovers? No wait hed kill them straight away. Dashing rescue? Why does he need a rescue he's too cool and basically untrappable anyway, what are they rescuing him from socializing with his cousins lmao???' on his notes before giving up on making it realistic. The next scribble was 'cuz i said so ok next'. There had been no 'next'. His battery had died and when he managed to get home and get his laptop plugged in it was time for another word vomit on the topic of Bing-ge's meat truncheon. [Secret side-quest unlocked: Easter egg hunt! 1/536 discovered. Keep going!] [Category: "is it a headcanon if you didn't think it up with your upper head?" 1/413]

"Oh," Izuna said -- delicately, while studiously reading his folder, "I'm afraid we need someone with a ... strong personality for Naohime." "Why's that?" Hashirama replied, just as painfully polite. The daimyo's mediator kept watching them and scratching little pointy words in his notebook. "Because if your man doesn't prove that he's dangerous and has the personality to use it on her if she pushes him, it's going to turn abusive," Madara drawled. Hashirama stared at him for a blank second. The daimyo's envoy stopped writing; even his stone-faced Aburame bodyguard arched her eyebrows over her darkened spectacles. Tobirama stretched out across the table without another word to take back one of the folders Izuna had spread around him. -- The daimyo is over the whole Uchiha/Senju war. They're going to become one people if they know what's good for them. Madara hates it enough without having to marry a woman too.

The wedding’s going to be tonight, presumably so no one involved has time to get cold feet, which gives Geralt just enough time to clean up and get the dirt off his armor and overthink every tiny little detail of this arrangement.