#Ren Fair AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ironmandeficiency · 2 years

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ren fair season

pairing: modern!pero tovar / reader

word count: 3223

summary: when his soulmate dyes their hair at the beginning of ren fair season, pero is less than pleased with the results. after all, who would possibly take a rainbow-haired swordsman seriously?

a/n: this was for my secret santa giftee @nolanell as part of @ohnopoe ‘s secret santa gift exchange so disregard that it’s four months late. thank you @pettyprocrastination for enjoying my dumbass ideas bc this only got accomplished bc i remembered one of our many conversations that centered around hot grumpy men

stepping outside in full garb, pero is appreciative of the warm breeze that greets him outside the door of his truck. it feels far too long since he’s been back to the seven acre plot in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by vendor’s tents and fun costumes and the smell of turkey legs lingering in the air.

even from the grassy area outside the gates that served as the parking lot, he could hear everything being set up for the bustling day that makes the fair worth all the organized chaos. the minstrels were practicing together, vendors were laying out their wares, and the knights were riding their horses through the grounds for a leisurely stroll before preparing for the 10 o’clock tournament, the first of three that would be had that day.

the joyful cacophony brings him peace, as much as it surprised him at first. he originally joined the local renaissance fair as payment for a bet lost to will five years ago (that night was a harsh reminder that will had a better poker face than he let on), but found that he rather enjoyed it. so he kept coming back ever since, running the dueling ring that was always set up next to the archery and axe throwing, both of which are run by will.

pero’s grandfather taught him to duel as early as possible. days spent training with him were the best highlights of pero’s childhood. spending his summers there, him and his grandfather would enjoy a big breakfast before going outside to duel for hours until lunch, then go right back at it again until dinner. as pero grew older, the swords changed from carved wood to steel, dull to sharp.

once the organizers were told (by will) of his skillset, it was only natural that pero be in charge of the arena where they offered “duels”. sure they may only be fighting with foam-ended staffs at the fair, but pero found it enjoyable to put an occasional asshole in their place after they cop an attitude.

so here he stands, for his sixth year, in his full garb with one of his favorite prop swords sheathed at his side. there was a chill in the air as he entered the fairgrounds, the kind of chill that forebodes a day where the hot cocoa flows with the same lack of inhibition as the mead.

there’s always been something special, daresay magical, about the ren fair. stepping through the threshold wipes you clean of the woes that plague you outside of the gates and lifts your spirits without breaking a sweat. he can see it in the eyes of many of the fair goers and even his fellow workers, that innocent childlike wonder that comes with the fantasy world built by everyone around.

from the knights at the jousts to the woman reading fortunes behind the belly dancers’ stage, everyone has a hand in making the fair what it is. in all his years he’s never felt anything but a peaceful camaraderie with his fellow cast mates. with surprisingly few cast changes through the years it’s easy to find a sense of familiarity. there’s structure in a strong cast, and where there’s structure, there’s routine.

that’s why he’s taken aback when one of the knights, lord andrew, makes a comment about his hair, of all things.

“aye pero! nice hair!”

he can tell andrew is being genuine, the man has never been anything but kind and amicable in the four years he’s been a cast member. with that in mind, why in the world would he give such a ridiculous compliment?

pero never changed his hair outside of regular maintenance. it’s stayed the same style for years, occasionally getting a little shaggy but easily trimmed back down. he’s never dyed it either; he just let it be however it decides to on its own. he doesn’t think anything has changed, but then that wouldn’t explain the strikingly odd compliment.

all pero could do was thank the man as if he knew what was happening and continue his trek to the dueling grounds.

“pero, i love your hair!”

“those colors look really good on you!”

“lookin’ good, tovar!”

the confusion has his mind in a chokehold by the time he arrives at the dueling grounds where will is perched atop one of the axe throwing targets. upon seeing pero, the man’s face immediately shifts from nonchalance to barely contained glee.

“my friend,” will begins as he hops from his perch and starts to walk rather quickly towards pero, “your hair looks—“

“i’ve gotten no less than ten comments about my hair since i arrived five minutes ago! if you dare speak a word about my hair, your fate will not be pleasant!” he’s so damn tired of this already. was this a scheme set up by everyone to bother him specifically? there had to be something up with everyone to cause such an uproar about his appearance.

will takes note of his friend’s frustration and confusion, even though he’s confused himself. how could pero not know why everyone’s been talking about his hair? it looks holographic, for crying out loud!

now he knows his friend well enough to be confident in the fact that he didn’t do this to himself. rainbows were never really pero’s thing, to be honest. but was his friend really daft enough to pretend people wouldn’t definitely say something about his silver and rainbow hair?

for all the things pero was, a fool was not one of them. so will had only one possible hypothesis for why pero caught an attitude: he simply didn’t know.

“when was the last time you looked in a mirror?”

will wasn’t shocked when his friend had to put actual thought into when he had last used a mirror. the only ones he used even relatively often were attached to his truck, and even then, the man drove with too much trust in fate.

“… three days ago.”

will can’t find it in him to be exasperated any more than he already is. without a word, he pulls his phone from the hidden compartment inside his vest and opens the camera, pointing it towards the spaniard.

oh how he wishes he had pressed record before handing his phone to the rainbow-haired duelist. it would be one of his biggest regrets in life because everyone deserved to see the pure shock on pero’s face as his brain registered his rainbow hair.

he wanted the rainbow gone, and he wanted it gone now. but there was nothing he could do now; he was already at the fair and the gates would open to guests in less than an hour. he was stuck as the rainbow duelist for the day, and he was not happy.

“who goes to a renaissance fair in the winter?! it’s unheard of!” you lamented to your cousin. ren fairs were summertime events! you’re supposed to put on your layered costume to spite the heat of the sun and cool down with the help of strong mead! but ally, your stubborn cousin, would not be deterred by your attempts to sway her opinion, sticking to her guns and emphasizing how grand of a time you’ll have not sweating buckets.

wearing the extravagant layered costumes out of necessity rubbed you the wrong way, so you took your summertime fae costume and made some modifications to gear it more towards autumn and called it a day. simply by changing some of the greens in your outfit to warm sienna and mahogany and gold (and adding sleeves and a new pair of orange tights), you were now a personification of autumn in fae form.

“this fair has been happening in winter here for nearly a decade and you didn’t know about it?! and to think you call yourself a fair junkie!” you couldn’t really argue with that. your cousin, who you hadn’t seen in years prior to her current visit, found this fair with a mere facebook search without even visiting your town. the fact you’ve lived here for several years but had yet to attend this fair, or even know about it, was in fact rather appalling.

“plus,” she adds with a wink, “this is a great chance to show off my handiwork from yesterday!”

you do concede that it’s a fair point. your top-of-her-class beauty school graduate cousin dyed your hair in what she calls holographic colors yesterday afternoon; for free, no less. your childhood summers were spent being her guinea pig for whatever style she cooked up that day (they weren’t always this stellar though) and she has more than outdone herself this time.

she’s currently wearing what looks to be one of the heaviest gowns you’ve ever seen with a hooded cloak to match. it’s absolutely gorgeous, but nothing you would willingly force yourself into. looks like at least someone is gonna sweat at the fair today despite the cold.

she emerges from the bathroom, hands fidgeting with dazzling earrings she bought at the last fair you went to together. “and you’re driving us there! i already told you what happened the last time i drove while wearing three petticoats!”

you chuckle lightly as you help her put on the earrings. “how can i forget about you backing into a state trooper at a stop light because you couldn’t tell which pedal was which? it’s a classic!”

ally huffs and swats your shoulder on the way out the door. “don’t judge me till you’ve tried it! now hurry up so we can get a good parking spot!”

you’ve never gotten so many compliments on your hair in your life as you have today. fellow attendees and cast members alike have told you in various ways how magical it looks, and you never hesitate to give ally the credit for her work. two members of the royal court even told you that the lights strung in the nearby trees made you glow.

through the entire day, your cousin never failed to remind you of how right she was in suggesting you both come to the fair.

spotting a row of benches next to one of the concession stands, you and ally plop down onto the antiquated wood. after taking a break from visiting vendors by watching the jester’s improv show and the jousting tournament (lord andrew gave ally a red rose that matched his colors shortly before he won), there was a pleasant buzzing ache in your bones.

“are you exhausted already? we still have so much to do!” you’re unsure as to where she finds all this energy, but you’re going to have to ask her who her supplier is. it’s cold and foggy, and if you hadn’t been consistently drinking cocoa you would have frozen stiff long before now.

she reaches into her corset and pulls out the itinerary they hand out at the front gate, which she folded neatly before tucking it into her cleavage. after perusing it for a moment, she continues. “the belly dancers haven’t had their next show yet, and we haven’t even visited the far side of the grounds! there’s no telling what we’d find!”

the grounds were fairly large, a good several acres if you had to guess, and you haven’t seen everything yet. and truthfully, very seldom does anyone want to leave the fair after a fun day, even if it was colder than you would normally be comfortable in with your lack of layers.

“fine,” you relent. “after we watch the belly dancers, we can see what’s on the far end of the grounds. then we leave. deal?”

she’s clapping giddily after getting her way, feeling proud that she convinced you to stay a little longer. “deal! their next show starts in ten minutes, which gives us time to look at a couple of the stores close by their stage before we’ll need to get a good seat!”

in a flash she’s off the bench and taking your hand, most likely about to drag you towards the bazaar, the biggest vendor location in the entire fair that just happens to be mere feet from the belly dancers’ stage.

“wait! you, with the rainbow hair! please stop for a moment!”

you don’t know the voice but you turn when you recognize the sound of hooves accompanying it. ally notices you stopping once she’s jerked away from her pursuit of the bazaar, confused why you paused when you just agreed to follow her lead.

lord andrew dismounts from hemingway (you learned his horse’s name when you both fed him carrots after the tournament) and the look in his eye is one you can’t quite place. all you know is that whatever he has on his mind is urgent, and you hope everything is okay. either he’s a fabulous actor or there’s something genuinely serious on his mind.

ally must think he’s still in character because she addresses him with the chirpy cadence she carries when in costume, seemingly blind to the intensity behind the man’s eyes.

he doesn’t have a single thought to spare towards your cousin, which is strange considering the heart eyes he had for her earlier. his question is aimed at you without a moment’s hesitation. “forgive my interruption, but have you been to visit the duelist and the archer at the far end of the grounds yet?”

you find it a peculiar question, but you answer it earnestly. “if it’s at the far end of the grounds, we planned on visiting after watching the belly dancers. is there something important there?”

“i strongly insist you hurry there now. they both leave in fifteen minutes and there’s someon-thing i think you really need to see there before you miss the chance.” he paused briefly to take a breath before continuing. “i know this is peculiar, but i promise it is important.”

you and ally exchange confused looks. there is no malice behind his eyes or words, and he was very friendly in your conversations before and after the tournament. but above all that, intuition was telling you to hurry to the far end without any further hesitation. “we can head there now, right ally?”

you phrased it as a question, even though you would have gone with or without her. nothing had ever felt more true in your gut than this, which caught you slightly off guard.

she must have seen something in your eyes that told her that you had to do this. “yes of course. thank you lord andrew for delivering such important information.”

you’re already starting to lead ally the same way she was going to moments before. there had to be something important there, you could feel it. you shouted a goodbye to the knight over your shoulder as you departed. “thank you, lord andrew! you and hemingway have a great afternoon! we hope to see you again soon!”

he waves with a smile, seemingly elated at your eagerness to follow his advice. “thank you! enjoy the rest of your day as well!”

“i have to admit,” pero smirked, twirling the fake sword around like a baton in the dueling ring. “it’s a little bit more gratifying to defeat smug fools with rainbow hair than it is without it.”

will immediately latches into the admission. “i told you the hair would grow on you! i called it!” the pride swells into his entire demeanor as he joins his friend in the ring.

the past twenty minutes have been a ghost town. it would frequently happen like this: several minutes of nothing, not another soul to be seen, but then a swarm will arrive and the lines will be bizarrely long. only one thing thus far has cured their shared boredom in these lulls in activity, and that is a good duel.

pero has dueled will dozens of times, and the spaniard has won every single one. it’s a matter of pride at this point. his friend is indeed a formidable opponent, but not once has he bested pero’s lifelong skill. he’s gotta give it to the blond though; he puts up a fight every time with almost unwarranted enthusiasm.

“you may have,” pero smirks, “but can you call who will win our next match?” he snags the other staff from where it leaned against a stump, tossing it in the air towards will as an invitation.

will catches the staff mid-flight and once it’s comfortable in his hands, he immediately lunges for his friend with a smile.

will’s offensive maneuvers were expertly deflected by pero’s impenetrable defense. the sound of staff against staff echoed along the north wind, neither man holding back.

their knowledge of each other’s tactics run deep into their veins, what every look in the eyes and shuffling of the feet translates to in the ring. years of duels and teaming up during occasional brawls when getting drinks ends up more than the two bargained for.

that’s why the archer was rightfully worried when he got through pero’s defenses and landed a winning jab to the kidney. the spaniard didn’t even flinch at the impact, too distracted (will didn’t know pero could get distracted) by… something.

“pero, what-“

“cállate!”

taken aback by the abrupt change in attitude, will followed his friend’s gaze. and there, walking towards their stations, were two people — one of them with holographic hair.

he locked eyes with the other person, shock mirrored on their face. she too must have noticed the two with matching hair.

as you’re walking towards the dueling grounds, ally suddenly begins to swat your shoulder a little too hard to be comfortable. “ow! ally, why are you- oh.”

that was when you saw him.

he was in full dress with a sword on his hip, the staff he was using moments earlier with such precision hanging limply from his hand more akin to a wet noodle.

pero was stock still, watching your approach with hyper vigilance. the chances that two strangers at the ren fair would have the same holographic hair? slim to none. the chances of meeting his soulmate here? microscopic (or so he thought). because there you are in full garb walking towards him.

the air is thick with tension and excitement, electricity building up the closer you get to the man in front of you. he’s making no sudden movements, almost as though he doesn’t want to frighten you away with the slightest twitch.

by the time you’ve approached the ropes that section off the dueling ring, it feels like hours have passed. it’s once you’re mere feet away from him that he moves to approach you, arms dangling over the top rope.

he seems to be contemplating his words very carefully, judging by the furrow of his brow and the gleam of caution in his eyes. seeing him up close is enchanting, from the rich chocolate of his eyes to the scar on his eye he’s got you ensnared without even trying.

you’re at a loss for words. how did you convince the universe to give you a soulmate this ruggedly and insanely handsome, even with rainbow hair that didn’t suit his aesthetic?

at long last your soulmate finds his tongue and you nearly collapse on the spot from the liquid gold that fills your ears. “would you like to duel, mi querida hada?”

#pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #modern!pero tovar #modern au #ren fair au #pedro pascal #pero tovar imagine #pero tovar reader insert #soulmate au #jj writes #the great wall

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piratefishmama · 5 months

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There was just something magical about a good Renaissance Faire. Something in the air that set Eddie’s little crow brain alight with excitement. Especially around December when Christmas loomed around the corner and snow dusted the ground.

Be it the shiny trinkets dangling from wooden hooks amidst the old wooden stalls, be it the haggling voices of stall vendors and customers, all dressed in garbs they’d likely sewn, dyed, modelled themselves, the smells of the food stalls, the glow of twinkling fairy lights reflecting on the snow, the music played on lutes and sang from haybales for gathering crowds, be it the energy of likeminded folks all there to be a little bit weird, joyously, freely, without shame or judgement.

He could be himself there.

Dressed to the nines in layered fabrics purposefully aged and torn to simulate era appropriate wear and tear. His hair held silver trinkets, tied up by lengths of dark fabric in a messy up-do that’d taken Wayne a good few hours to figure out, and would no doubt take them both a hell of a lot of huffing and puffing to remove without cutting it out later. He had a cloak made out of a thick set of curtains he’d thrifted, dyed, and repurposed.

He had his bag, something he’d sewn himself out of extra fabric from those curtains, made with plenty of little pockets and places to put his spoils, he’d saved up for months to get as much out of this faire as possible because things weren’t CHEAP there.

Most things were handmade, most things were lovingly crafted by gifted individuals. He didn’t even want to haggle, he had money specifically for the faire! He was going to spend money on the endlessly talented individuals at the faire!

He got himself a new journal, leather bound with thick blank pages for sketching in. it was embossed with intricate swirling patterns around a pentagram that he’d absolutely get shit for if he ever pulled it out in public but it was beautiful, and it had a cool swing lock clasp.

He got himself a pretty necklace, wire wrapped with a fancy gem that he’d keep safe to use as a prop at some point.

He found some beautiful homemade dice, made in such a way that it looked like liquid moved inside of the dice, little flecks of glitter sloshing around a cloudy liquid inside the green tinted gold leaf inlaid resin with every roll, beautiful, eye catching, immensely satisfying to his little crow brain. Surprisingly enough they were the most expensive purchase he’d made at the faire, tiny little dice, fifty whole dollars. Not the most expensive thing he’d seen there, but definitely the most expensive thing he now owned from the trip.

They came with an incredibly pretty velvet dice bag though, which he hadn’t expected to get as a little freebie but the girl at the stall winked at him when she handed it over and wasn’t that a trip. The fabric was dyed to look like some kind of galaxy, with little silver and gold stars embroidered into it.

It made those dice a steal and he would treasure it and them, always.

He perused the fabric stalls, getting himself a cool hand painted scarf, detailed with a beautiful dragon that he’d find a good frame for later to hang up because it would not be worn, no siree. He grabbed a cool hand carved wooden mug for Wayne that looked like something straight out of a Viking’s mead hall, he’d give it to him for Christmas.

He got himself some food. He watched a joust, got a photo with the riders and their horses, one of which tried nibbling his hair, tipped the riders, and very quickly found himself running low on cash.

All that scrimping, and saving, and dealing… worth it. So very worth it.

So sue him if he looped back around and walked through again, he couldn’t afford much of anything else, he’d spent his last ten spot on a fridge magnet, had five left for gas station snacks on the way home, but that was fine, he could take photos, he’d borrowed Gareth’s camera, Gareth would have come but his parents had one stipulation for him attending the faire, and that was taking his failing grade in biology, and upping it to something that at least predicted a pass before thanksgiving.

He’d failed, and no amount of grovelling could fix it. No Ren Faire for you good sir!

Jeff was out of town with his family on some ‘visit all the out of state family members before Christmas snowstorms lock everything down’ country wide tour. And Dougie couldn’t get the time off his part time job to go.

So Eddie had promised plenty of photos to show them what they missed out on.

It was the very last stall at the end of the strip that caught his attention. Maybe it was the way the dying sunlight hit it, or the way the wind caught the chimes dangling from its flimsy rafters, he felt… called to it. Drawn to it like a moth to a flame and who was he, but a lowly little moth, to ignore the call of the fire?

So he wandered over, let himself be drawn in, offered a friendly little finger wave to the greying woman sat behind a makeshift counter wrapped in shawls and decorated in silver jewellery that jingled as she worked a single crotchet hook into a slowly coming together wine red shawl. The woman offered him a simple bow of her head and a small smile in response but no sales pitch.

No conversation of any kind really, she simply sat there while he looked, crocheting away without a care in the world. He could appreciate that, not being bothered by pushy sales tactic, especially when he had so few funds left to play with, he always felt guilty when he couldn’t afford what they were selling.

Like why was he even there if he had no money to spend?

The old woman didn’t do that, allowing him to wander through her surprisingly large stall full of little trinkets and goodies uninterrupted, which was for the best because had she spoke, he might not have stayed long enough to spot it. Amidst the little boxes decorated with carved patterns and pretty gemstones, amidst the scarves, crocheted bags, amidst the leather work belts, and wallets sat a single, solitary little bottle.

Sealed with a cork coated in wax and pressed with a decorative seal in a shape too worn down to really make out but obvious that it’d at one point had a shape. The bottle was hand blown, not manufactured, lightly frosted a dark brown to a brilliant amber around its square base, the colour crept up the smooth sides towards its seal, like a diamond in shape.

The bottle wasn’t empty either.

Much like the dice that’d caught his crow brain hook line and sinker earlier, this little bottle was filled with some kind of liquid. It swirled like a galaxy inside, and at the centre a brilliant light that looked like it held its own sun, always at the centre of the swirl, never distorting or shifting out of place, eternal in its circular flow.

It was warm in his hands. He didn’t even realise he’d picked it up.

“Two dollars.” Eddie damn near jumped out of his skin, whirling around, the bottle tight in his grip. That old woman had moved. And she’d done so with a quiet stealth some might attribute to a ninja, which was impressive considering how much jewellery she wore.

“Huh?” So eloquent of him.

“Just two dollars, child. The bottle? It is… calling to you, yes?” He couldn’t place her accent, something foreign, European maybe, he had no idea but it definitely didn’t sound any parts American. “I take two dollars for it, will bring you luck.” He looked back to the bottle, eyeing the swirl that still held its pattern even as he’d jostled it, like nothing could knock it out of its gentle swirl, then back to the old woman.

What was two dollars, really?

He had five left, if nothing else the bottle could make a really cool prop, and if it did bring him luck, then hey bonus. Who was he to argue with a mysterious old lady at a Renaissance Faire? “You uh… you got yourself a deal, ma’am.” She smiled brightly at him, eyes alight with both happiness and… something else, something that reflected in the light that he didn’t think hard enough about. She accepted the five dollars he had left, she gave him his change, and a little paper bag filled with tissue to hold his new purchase, which he didn’t really need as he put it right into his own bag after receiving his change, and then she sent him on his way, uncaring as to whether or not he wanted to look at her other wares.

He’d gotten the bottle. Nothing else mattered apparently. Maybe he should have found that suspicious, but why would he?

As soon as he left the little stall, all thought of it seemed to wash away from his mind leaving him freely wandering back to the entrance where his trusty steed, his Van, awaited him to take him home. Blissfully unaware of the little bottle he’d just purchased. Blissfully forgetful of the stall he’d visited, of the old woman he’d just met, of her smile, her eyes, her mysterious accent.

All of which was for the best, really, as if he’d thought about it, if he’d taken a single moment to stop and look back to the little stall at the end of the row, the little stall that held more treasures than it should have been able to for its size, if he’d looked back to wave his goodbyes to the old woman and her treasures, he’d have found nothing.

No stall, no woman, no trinkets or treasures. Just a single row of recycling bins and benches.

But he didn’t look back.

Definitely for the best.

Part 2

#PirateWrites #IWishFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Genie!Steve #warning: i've never been to a ren faire lmao #i also have zero self restraint whee

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thotpuppy · 12 days

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ThotPuppy's Historical-themed Sterek Fic Recs

I know lots of folks have already done one of these! BUT! This is one of my favorite tropes, so... here are some of my faves! As a note, these largely range from ~vaguely medieval~ to incredibly well-researched SPECIFIC 'Medieval' to ~general regency ish~ to VERY Regency to various points in between. I am also aware of some as of yet unwritten but ~coming soon/eventually~ Pirate, Wild West, 1920s, and of course Medieval pieces coming out, so I MAY have to post an updated version in a year or so lol

Also... have one that's not here? PLEASE send it to me! Especially Medieval Fantasy. It's my FAVORITE and I KNOW there are more that I don't have/don't have saved and I'm very interested!

Golden Boy by trilliath Rated E, Complete, 127k+

A Most (Im)Proper Proposal by Welsh_Woman Rated E, Complete, 200k+

Entente by Siria Rated E, Complete, 44k+

A Desperate Arrangement by mikkimouse Rated E, Complete, 115k+

Foolish devouring things, build your castle in me by LunaCanisLupus_22 Rated E, Complete, 23k+

The Consort's Tourney by Lalaith_Quetzalli Rated T, Complete, 12k+

The Wolf in the Tower by exclamation Rated M, Complete, 57k+

Propriety and Pursuit by JenyaKeefe Rated E, Complete, 27k+

The Wrong Hale by Dextrous_Sinistrous Rated E, Complete, 77k+

The White Hart of Winter by DarkAthena Rated E, Complete, 65k+

The Marriage Contract by Palendrome Rated E, Complete, 12k+

The Omega Servant and the Alpha King by EmeraldTrident Rated E, Complete, 2.4k+

Where the Real Beasts Are by kaistrex Rated E, Complete, 109k+

I Made a Vow Out to the Dark by WhoGeek Rated T, Complete, 22k+

I'm Not Asking Questions, I'm Taking My Chances by keldjinfae Rated E, Complete, 80k+

Here are a few that I haven't had a chance to read yet, but the mere concepts have me in a chokehold:

Kingdoms Fall by Gia279 Rated M, Complete, 74k+

A Pauper's Prince (Revised) by Welsh_Woman Rated E, Complete, 83k+

A Wolf's Heart by Palendrome Rated E, Complete, 22k

Tangled Crowns by Halevetica Not Rated, WIP, 37k+

A Winter's Knight by changez Rated E, Complete, 5.5k+

I Won't Be Alone For The Rest Of My Life by blackorchids Rated G, Complete, 1.4k+

And lastly, would I really be that bitch if I didn't rec my own?

Triskelion Reign: the Shepherd, the Lamb, and the Wolf Rated E, WIP, 47k+

Tagging authors (i know of on here) so they know we out here loving and appreciating them! @Athenadark , @outtoshatter, @halevetica, @changez4sterek, @lalaithquetzallicaresi, you all write lovely works and I appreciate your efforts <3

#sterek #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #sterek fic rec #sterek fanfic #eternalsterek #sterek is eternal #my fic rec #thotpuppy recs #medieval fantasy #regency #historical #like my dudes this rec list covers like 1100 through 1820 #it is ALL over the place #maybe a wee bit lacking in true rennaissance??#imo it makes up for it with some of the “ren faire” level aus #but i do not say that as a negative i live for it #ALSO its very eurocentric which makes me kinda want to write that feudal japan inspired fic even more akdgjakdjg #it's the weeb in me im sorry

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thefreakandthehair · 6 months

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@eddiemonth prompt, oct 15th: Ren faire | Knights of Cydonia - Muse | Committed And how can we win, when fools can be kings? Don't waste your time, or time will waste you.

Robin stands off to the side with Nancy and watches as Eddie and Steve fight side by side with faux swords against the evil King, the antagonist of the Renaissance Faire’s overarching storyline who's brought together unlikely allies: elves, knights, and peasants fighting as one.

Steve’s medieval outfit, thrifted mainly by Eddie and Robin with a few suggestions from Nancy’s closet, is convincing enough but Eddie? Eddie’s gone all out. Elf ears with gold cuffs applied with an industrial adhesive. Green and beige fabrics fashioned into a shirt with golden embroidery painstakingly stitched into woodland and patterns along his sleeves. Brown leather pants found at a steep discount while thrifting for Steve. A crown made of greenery and medallions tied from his forehead into the back of his hair.

It’s as impressive as it is excessive.

Nancy nudges Robin gently, a light tap of her shoulder against Robin’s, and gestures with her chin towards Eddie.

“How the Hell are his ears still on?”

Robin laughs and shrugs as Steve lands a pretend blow and Eddie beams at him. Perhaps there's something healing about fighting a villain and winning without true, mortal stakes.

“No idea, I just hope that whatever glue he used has an easy solvent. I’m not sitting in the E.R. with him and his elf ears.”

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elheavenlove · 21 days

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The Mermaid.

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sadevergreen · 1 year

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i just really love their styles from the beginning and am thanking about it again ‼️‼️‼️

i also might try to put some other hermits in this style if that’s something y’all wanna see??? just lmk •3-

#anyways #gtwscar #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #geminitay #hermitcraft #hermitcraft 9 #jellie #jellie cat #i think they work at a ren faire and scars the guy who ate the soap samples #mcyt #my art #art with jeddie #folk hero au

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smallfrogpleasedtomeetyou · 1 year

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REN FAIR HTTYD AU

#i am reading a really cute ren fair au for a different fandom rn so just sayin #get in on this shit #httyd

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 10 months

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Kara gets roped into the RenFaire scene one summer as a face painter because a) she's an art major, and b) she's an art major who needs money. Her friend Nia has worked concessions there since she was old enough to get her workers permit, and swears to Kara that its a great place to work if she doesn't mind the occasional heat wave.

Which, to Nia's credit, is true. Except what Nia forgets to mention is that the resident RenFaire fiddler will make Kara feel like she's living in a permanent heat wave.

The fiddler's name is Lena, and she's gorgeous. Long raven locks and skin like ivory, wearing frocks of green leaves and shimmering wings, she looks like something out of a fairytale.

There's an invisible threshold between the summerbounders and those who have made the Faire their home, marked only by how naturally they fit in their medieval, fantastical roles. Summerbounders, like Kara, throw themselves into it with all the good-hearted cheesey pomp they can muster. The others, well-- they simply are their roles.

Lena is of the latter group. She was raised in the Faire, after all, spending her summers flitting between booths while her mother sold charms to enchanted patrons. But even when her mother passed, Lena didn't want for love. The Faire is her family too.

For her part, Lena immediately takes a shine to Kara, quickly noting her kindness towards children while she paints whimsical designs on cheeks and foreheads. But when Kara seems to clam up and shut down any time Lena comes anywhere close, Lena learns to keep a relative distance. Kara isn't about to approach Lena herself, so they fall into a pattern of mutual admiration from afar.

Until Nia asks Kara how she likes Lena (bc Nia lowkey shipped them when she suggested the job to Kara), and is surprised to learn they have yet to have a single meaningful conversation.

All right. That's it.

Nia invites Kara to a sleepover at the faire grounds overnight, for those who camp there-- among which is Lena. Surely, with the glitter wiped away and the lack of wings Kara will be less blinded and more... personable.

Except that after getting some mead in her system, Kara is even more entranced by Lena. How could she not be, with a speck of overlooked glitter on Lena's neck, glinting merrily in the firelight, and her long dark hair let loose around her shoulders.

But now, mellowed by said mead, Kara can't bring herself to look away when Lena catches her staring. Their eyes lock, and Lena's surprise soon gives way to a blush, then a smile as warm as the fire between them.

Lena doesn't play her fiddle this night-- everyone is pleasantly tired, and content to lounge on their logs and stumps. But someone does pull out a lyre, and Kara does notice that Lena softly sings along to the tune most everyone seems to know.

When Nia and another of the folks seated next to Kara rises to fetch a refill of their tankards, Kara blinks to find a new figure filling their empty seats.

"Hi," Lena greets, her voice low in her throat. The sound is heady, buzzing deep in Kara's core.

"Hey," Kara returns. Thankfully, the drink has smoothed her tongue, eliminating the stammer that previously caught in her throat had Lena approached her at the face painting station.

"You've been avoiding me," she's told.

Kara grimaces. "Kinda... I'm sorry."

"Well, so long as it's not because I smell bad...."

Though of course now Kara breathes in, and her lungs fill with the scent of woodsmoke and pine, and something floral. The floral, she surmises, is Lena.

To be sure, Kara leans in and inhales once again, this time with her nose just brushing the side of Lena's neck. The floral is in fact Lena. Kara notes the jumping pulse point in before her eyes and the catch in Lena's breath.

"Nope," she pulls back languidly, letting a goofy grin spread across her features. "You don't stink."

They're still perilously close, and Kara watches how Lena's gaze jumps from her eyes to her lips and back again. How has she missed this, Kara marvels at herself. To have missed Lena's interest in her is... a travesty.

Lena's head is turned towards her like the rest of the group has fallen away, and perhaps they have-- Kara takes little note of them.

"You're very smooth for someone who's been scared to be within ten feet of me."

"What can I say?" Kara shrugs. "I know to be wary of the fair folk."

"Fair or faire?" Lena teases.

Kara smirks. "I'm sure both are equally dangerous."

"Then you're doomed, considering I already have your name."

Suddenly Kara's brain shortcircuits as Lena leans in, eyes slipping shut as their lips come near enough to brush as Lena speaks.

"Kara."

#supercorp #ren faire au #fiddler lena #face painter kara #couldnt help myself

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