#(like i've always known it's a good idea but i was also raised to fear it so. idk what i'm doing)

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

warnings: none really?

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: A wet nurse raised you to keep you from being killed by your uncle. After her death, you ended up as a slave and developed a crush on a boy in Dunholm, who you never saw again after Kjartan sold you to someone else. You eventually became a warrior and a bounty hunter. After an eventful life you found back your brother, Uhtred, and joined his men. And one of those men used to live in Dunholm.

word count: 3,1k

Note: this was a request! I hope I did the idea some justice, and thank you for your patience :)

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @anditsmywholeheart

'They call her the widowmaker,' Finan huffed. He looked at you from across the alehouse, as you laughed at something Uhtred had said. 'What d'ya think of that? Because, I think,' Finan burped, 'we should stay away from the woman. She might just kill us.'

'Why would she kill us? We don't have wives,' Sihtric scoffed, 'or a bounty on our head. Also, she is Uhtred's younger sister, he knows her and wouldn't risk letting her serve him if she was a danger,' Sihtric got up and threw his cloak around his shoulders, 'anyway, I am going to get some rest.'

'Yeah, yeah, leaving me with the baby monk again, aye?' Finan laughed as he rubbed Osferth's head, who slapped his hand away quickly and Sihtric nodded with a smile. 

Sihtric kept his eyes on you as he walked out, hoping you would meet them, but you never did.

'So you were raised in a secluded forest?' Uhtred smiled, 'that explains why you're tough as nails now. You did well for yourself, I am proud, sister. You get good silver for the bounties you take?'

'Good enough,' you smiled, 'but it wasn't always like this, Uhtred. My wet nurse took good care of me when she feared Aelfric would want to kill me too, like he wanted to kill you as a young boy. But she died, years ago. And then I fell into the hands of Kjartan.'

'Kjartan?' Uhtred raised his eyebrows, 'Ragnar killed Kjartan.'

'So I've heard,' you smiled proudly, 'I spent some years there, as Kjartan's slave, but I was sold again before Dunholm was taken from Kjartan. It was then that I learned how to become a warrior, to take care of myself. I don't need anyone, Uhtred, but I am so happy the gods made me cross paths with you again.'

'You will always have a place with me and my men,' Uhtred said and you drank to that. 'Speaking of Kjartan,' he continued, 'one of my most loyal men is Kjartan's bastard son. He helped us take Dunholm.'

You nearly choked on your ale. 'One of your men?' you took a quick glance at Finan and Osferth. You didn't know their names yet as you had only just found Uhtred earlier that day, but you had seen three men around Uhtred from a distance, and you didn't recognize any of them as a son of Kjartan. 

You had known his sons, they were present when you were a slave. Sven was a horrible boy, and you were happy to hear he died a horrible death. The other son, you remembered his name as Sol, was different from everyone else in Dunholm. He was your age. He was kind and gentle, but you only ever met him at night. It was unheard of to be kind to slaves, so Sol had to sneak around in the dark to talk to you, to make sure you were okay. He looked after you the best he could as a young boy, he always brought you food and water. You called him Sol because you had a crush on him and he always made you feel warm, like the sun. And in return he called you Mani, because your skin was, and still is, as pale as the moon, which he thought was beautiful. But when you were sold as a slave again, you never saw Sol again. And you always wondered if he was still alive. You remembered Sol had two different coloured eyes. As a little girl, you believed that one eye was lighter because he had the goodness of the gods in him, and that his other eye was darker because his father was Kjartan the Cruel, and it resembled the shadow that his father would always cast on him.

'Yeah, one of my men,' Uhtred smiled and looked over to Finan and Osferth, only to see Sihtric wasn't there, 'oh, I see he has left. Finan!' Uhtred yelled, and Finan stumbled over to your table.

'Lord?' he said, and deliberately kept his distance from you.

'Finan, where is Sihtric?'

Sihtric, you thought, I don't know anyone named Sihtric. But knowing Kjartan, he probably had at least a hundred bastard sons.

'Sihtric left, lord, he said he wanted to rest. But I think,' Finan paused, looked at you and whispered, 'I think he is afraid of the widowmaker. We all are actually, lord.'

Uhtred snorted and looked at you, 'sister, this is Finan, one of my men. And he tells me that they are afraid of you.'

'Are your men married?'

'No.'

'Do they have a bounty on their head?'

'Not that I know of,' Uhtred laughed.

'Then they have nothing to fear,' you grinned at Finan.

'Aye, see, that is exactly what Sihtric said,' he shuddered.

'Whoever Sihtric is, he is a smart man.'

'I wouldn't say that,' Finan grinned.

'Well, Uhtred, Finan,' you bowed your head to the Irish man with a devilish grin, 'I will also get some rest. Killing men is quite exhausting.' You winked at Uhtred, who wished you a good night, but he called your name before you could walk away, 'now that you serve me, tomorrow night you will guard the fortress with one of my men.'

'Fair enough. I hope it's with him,' you chuckled at Finan, who looked as if death had just spoken to him and he clutched the cross around his neck in his fist.

—--

The next day you spent hours at the stables, until evening, taking care of the horses and checking if everything you had with you was still intact. If you needed a new saddle or reins, now was the time to get them, before you would join Uhtred and his men on their journey in a few days. It was cold out, but you kept yourself warm by moving around. What also made you somewhat heated, was that you felt a hard stare in your back for a while already. You had glanced over your shoulder several times, and saw it was the man Uhtred and Finan had called Sihtric. He had dark, short hair with the sides shaved, exposing a tattoo that ran from his neck up to one side of his head. He had a sharp jawline and an intense stare. Normally, you would be flattered, as you thought he was handsome, but you were annoyed because you remembered Finan telling you they all feared you. If this Sihtric was really afraid you would kill someone, he should know better than staring you down. You had no plans of killing any men here, but Sihtric was high on your list right now if you decided to go on a killing spree.

After you had your dinner later that evening you made your way to the fortress stairs and climbed up. You had never stood watch before, but you figured it would be rather dull. You had been here for only one night, but it seemed rather quiet. Darkness had already taken over and the torches made for a warm atmosphere. You were in a fine mood, until you saw that the man you had to stand guard with was the man who made your blood boil earlier that day.

Sihtric quickly stood up as he saw you appear and he bowed.

'My lady,' he said. You gave him a quick nod and sat down several paces away from him.

This will be a long night, you thought to yourself when you saw Sihtric was fidgeting with his rings, not saying another word to you. You also had no desire to talk to him, so you just sighed and hoped dawn would approach soon. After what seemed like forever, you became more agitated with Sihtric's fidgeting. First with his rings, then he kept touching his mjölnir pendant as he quickly glanced at you, and soon he started to hum. And if there is anything you hated, it was humming. A shame, you thought, he is handsome, but useless probably.

You sighed loudly, again, and looked up at the moon. She was full tonight, and shone brightly over the fortress. The moon made you remember the boy from your childhood, Sol, and you smiled weakly. You didn't know Sihtric watched you, and to this day he would swear his heart had stopped when he saw you smile.

Just when you thought that Sihtric couldn't get any more on your nerves, he cleared his throat. Not once, not twice, but a whole three times before he finally spoke. And when he spoke, you really had to focus to figure out his rambling.

'I… when I was… back when,' Sihtric mumbled as he tripped over his words, 'I used to…,' he cleared his throat again, for the fourth time, and when he spoke again his words came out with such speed that you struggled to keep up, 'when I was a boy, I had a crush on a girl I had met. But one day she was just gone. Yet I never stopped loving her. And I always wondered if she was still alive, and if she was still as beautiful as I thought she was when we were young. This girl, she took my breath away as a boy. She… she was as pale as the moon, and therefore I called her Mani.'

Sihtric looked away from you when he had stopped talking, and he sighed nervously when you didn't respond to him. It's her, he thought, I know it's her. But she probably never loved me the way I loved her. She doesn't remember me.

'Sol?' you spoke so soft, you were surprised to see he snapped his head up to you.

'You called me Sol,' he smiled softly, 'you said it's because I-'

'Made me feel warm like that sun,' you finished his sentence before he could, and you stared at each other with wide eyes. 

You got up and slowly closed the distance between you and Sihtric. When you finally stood before him and looked down into his eyes, you saw that he had the goodness of the gods within him, and the darkness which used to be his father's shadow.

'My lady, I never told you my real name when we were younger, but my name is-'

'Sihtric,' you smiled nervously, 'Uhtred and Finan told me. And my name is-'

'(Y/N),' Sihtric said and chuckled nervously, 'Uhtred… told me.'

You both were at a loss for words, you just smiled at each other while trying to find out who was going to make the next move, and what that move would be.

'I… I never forgot about you,' Sihtric said.

'And I always dreamt of you,' you said, 'even these days, I still dream of your eyes. And I-' before you could finish your sentence Sihtric had got up, and he pulled you into his arms with such force that it almost hurt. He held you tight for a long time before pulling back to look at you and cup your cheeks.

'My gods,' he smiled, 'I knew it was you. The first moment I saw you yesterday, alongside Uhtred, your beauty simply punched the air out of my lungs. And I only ever felt that feeling once before, when I met you when we were young.'

'Oh,' you chuckled and felt yourself blush, 'you… you're…' you placed your hands on his arms and felt his biceps, 'oh, I mean, you… you grew up handsome.' And although it was rather dark, you could tell he blushed too. 

And suddenly, without any warning or stopping yourself, you felt your hands pull at his armour and you planted your lips on his. You felt Sihtric was surprised by your action, as were you, but it only took him a second to adjust to the situation and kiss you back.

And gods, you thought, he is a good kisser. Slow, gentle, but intense. Whoever gets to kiss him must be the luckiest-

You abruptly pulled away from Sihtric and took a step back as you tried to catch your breath. 'Gods! Oh, gods, I am so sorry!' you panicked, 'I don't even know if… like… are you… are you married?'

'What? No!' Sihtric panted, looking you up and down as he frowned, 'why? Are… are you? Married? Or… s-spoken for?'

'No! Gods, no. I'm not!' you breathed heavy, still feeling a little ashamed.

'Oh. Good,' Sihtric huffed, 'that's… that's good.'

'Yes, good,' you said and nodded, 'good,' you said again and became silent when you saw how Sihtric was looking at you. 

And faster than you could blink, Sihtric took a step towards you and grabbed your face to kiss you again. And he kissed you so deeply, so desperately and so passionately, as if he wanted to make up for all the lost time. And you let him, because you had missed him and wondered about him all the same. And if you had known he had become the handsome man that he is now, you would have longed for him all that time.

'I have always loved you,' Sihtric whispered, finally breaking the kiss.

'I have done too,' you smiled softly, 'but you look so different. I didn't recognize you.'

You couldn't resist running your hands through his short hair, only to feel it was soft and smooth, and he smiled to your touch, pulling you even closer against his body.

'Where have you been all these years?' Sihtric asked and leaned his forehead against yours.

'Everywhere,' you whispered, 'I loved travelling all this time. But… I don't want to be anywhere else ever again, other than in your arms.'

'I will never allow you out of my sight again,' he chuckled, 'but what happened to you? When you disappeared from Dunholm?'

'Your father sold me as a slave,' you said, and saw Sihtric's face drop.

'Gods,' he sighed, 'if he wasn't dead yet, I would've been the one to claim his life now.'

'Sol,' you chuckled, 'I mean, Sihtric,' you shook your head, to which he smiled, 'I'll need to get used to that.'

'You can call me whatever you want, my lady, as long as you never leave me again.'

'I have to confess,' you grinned, 'I thought you were handsome, but you really made my blood boil. The way you were staring at me earlier today, and how you were fidgeting and humming moments ago.'

'I'm sorry,' he smiled and nuzzled your nose, 'I tried to figure out how to approach you and confess my… my,' Sihtric stammered, and quickly shut his mouth.

'Confess what?' you frowned and watched him sigh with a shy smile.

'Confess my love to you.'

'Oh.'

'Too soon?' he grimaced.

'Well,' you blushed with a smirk, 'we kind of have known each other for a while already. But… maybe we should take it easy. We have both changed a lot since we last spoke.'

'We have,' Sihtric nodded, 'but my love for you never changed. But you are right. And I want to hear everything. All that you have done since you left Dunholm.'

'I will tell you everything,' you shivered suddenly, 'but maybe someplace warmer, at a better time, tomorrow?'

'Actually,' Sihtric smiled and took your hand, 'there has never been a better time.'

He threw his cloak around his shoulders and sat down, close to a small fire he had created before you arrived, and he pulled you in his lap. You giggled as he wrapped his arms around you along with his cloak, and without thinking you buried your face in his neck as your arms wrapped around his waist. You both chuckled nervously at being so close to each other. And as he made you feel warm, like he used to do when you were younger, you kept your promise and told him about everything that had happened since you had last seen him. 

Sihtric listened to every word you said and watched you with big eyes. You saw how he sometimes got distracted, then his eyes would wander down to your lips and a small smile would appear on his face. You teasingly nudged him every time it happened. But you didn't mind it, because you did the same when he told you everything that had happened to him.

And as Sihtric made you feel so warm and comfortable, you accidentally dozed off in his arms.

You were rudely awoken by someone clearing his throat and someone kicking at your feet. You almost jumped up as you opened your eyes, only to see Finan and Uhtred staring down at you and Sihtric, who apparently had also fallen asleep at some point.

'So,' Finan said, 'the fort has been breached and ya both slept through it.'

Finan snorted and you rolled your eyes. You looked at Sihtric who tried to hide a smile as he squeezed you in his arms, under his cloak.

'Sihtric,' Uhtred said.

'Yes, lord?' Sihtric replied and almost threw you off his lap as he stood up.

'What were you doing with my sister?'

'Nothing, lord!'

'Don't lie to me.'

'I am not, lord.' 

'Then why does she have marks on her neck?'

You quickly moved your hands to your neck, to hide any love bites that Sihtric might have left, and Sihtric just didn't know where to look as he tried to find the right words.

'I…I, she.. We didn't… I never-' Sihtric panicked.

'I am joking,' Uhtred laughed, 'she has no marks on her neck. Right, sister?'

You blushed and didn't answer, you weren't sure. There was a good chance that you had some love bites, as you remembered how Sihtric had cuddled you and planted kisses all over you before you had fallen asleep.

'Sister?' Uhtred asked again and slowly stopped smiling.

'And what if I had?' you suddenly snapped back at him, remembering who you are. 

You were a warrior, a widowmaker. You had been a slave and you had slaughtered men in shield walls. You weren't afraid of any man. Not even your brother.

Uthred was taken aback at your answer and didn't know what to say.

'I actually quite liked how Sihtric kissed me last night,' you said, 'and if I have any love bites on my skin, then I will wear them proudly, so everyone can see how well I am treated.' 

Sihtric's face went red as Uhtred and Finan turned to look at him.

'I knew Sihtric when I lived in Dunholm, and I have missed him ever since I was forced to leave. So, forgive me, brother, but I will not waste any more time. I just want to be with the man I love.'

You took Sihtric's hand in yours and made way to the stairs. You were planning on spending the rest of the day cuddled up in bed with him.

'Wait!' Finan suddenly yelled, 'this is the girl with skin as pale as the moon? My god! Sihtric would never shut up about you. It was about damn time he found you again. For a while I actually thought he had made you up!'

#sihtric x you #sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric fic #sihtric #the last kingdom fic #the last kingdom #tlk

[sea-owl]

So I know I've said before that I headcanon that the Featheringtons Irish side comes from Portia. I also headcanon that she socially married up where Lord Featherington had the title and she had the money. Most likely being a rich merchant's daughter, so she's new to the aristocratic scene. She also had some sort of vibe to her that I could never place my finger on.

Then I was rewatching some clips and one that always stuck out to me was when Portia takes Marina to the bad side of town as kind of like a scare straight tactic saying hey here's what's going to happen if you don't do something about your situation. That scene kind of gave off the vibes that Portia has personal experience with it.

It wasn't until I was visiting my Mexican American grandmother and all her siblings that I realized why Portia kind of gave off familiar vibes to me. Portia, at least to me kinda gives off Catholic mom vibes.

If that was to be her background of an Irish Catholic woman or even a catholic woman in general who married up than I can see why she would constantly be in survival mode like she is on the show and her need to keep up appearances like another member of the ton.

Catholics had been persecuted in England, and that's not even getting into the mess of British and Irish political relations, for over a good 200 years by the time we hit the Regency era with some relief from James the 2nd who had a catholic wife but he was honestly an anomaly. And in 1689 parliament banned any future monarchs or their spouses from being catholic, which was reinforced in 1701 with the Act of Settlemant. George the 3rd, the king we see on the show, was known to actively reject catholic relief bills. It wasn't until the late 1700s that catholics could own land or inheirt land or join the army. And even longer, in 1791-93 when they could practice their religion without fear of persecution. Being to hold any political power wasn't a thing until The Roman Catholic Relief Act of 1829.

Interreligious marriages weren't really looked favorable either but a catholic wife with a protestant husband was tolerated more but the kids had to be raised protestant. I could pot see a catholic wife being quiet about her religious background if it meant her survival.

But anyway back to what I was saying there is enough in the show that I could see this being a thing or something to have fun with as an idea. A Portia who is trying to survive so she marries out of her religion, marries up socially, and now she's doing everything in her power to keep make sure her position is secured. We could also apply this to Penelope with her writings and her jabs at the monarchy if this is her family history. I can see Portia also doing these kinds of warnings that she did to Marina on a smaller scale too throughout the girls' lives to make sure they stay on the path she's trying to lay out for them. After all it wasn't that long ago and society more than likely still sees catholics as second class citizens.

Now, do I expect anything like this from the show? No. It's a historical romance fantasy show, and I don't see them diving into something like this. Plus, Portia is meant to serve as a foil to Violet. It's a fun idea to play around with and could potentially explain some of Portia's actions. I do kinda hope we dive a little more in Penelope's family history as we watch her and Portia's dynamics shift and change.

#bridgerton #portia featherington #catholicism #catholics portia

[butchhamlet]

hi :) i don't know if it's really my place to say since i'm not sure if i actually have ocd or not; but as someone who's struggled with a lot of horrible taboo intrusive thoughts, guilt, rumination spirals and possibly trich this summer your ocd hamlet post really resonated with me.

i've been rereading hamlet and hamlet being an ocd sufferer just reframes so much of his acting and his “antic disposition”. to me it feels like he’s putting on masks upon masks upon masks not just because he NEEDS the control (if it’s all an act it means i don’t actually want to hurt anyone right? if i’m pretending to be insane i’m not actually insane?) but also because he’s afraid of being known. like my deepest fear is probably anyone knowing the extent of my intrusive thoughts and the things i feel guilty about and obsess over. so if he says all this nonsense nobody will know what’s happening in his mind—which i guess was probably the original intention anyway, the idea that claudius wouldn’t suspect him of treason if he acted insane, but i think it still fits.

there’s also his first soliloquy, “o, that this too [solid/sullied/sallied] flesh would melt, / thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!” i like the reading of “sullied” because it really highlights that feeling of being contaminated. hamlet feels tainted by the immorality in the danish court, but if we’re going by the ocd reading, he also feels tainted by the horrible intrusive thoughts and obsessions he has (tying in with what you’d said about him having sexual intrusive thoughts rather than um. an o*dipus complex.) the disgust towards the flesh can also be related to physical compulsions like body repetitive behaviours (e.g. skin picking).

this one is a bit “trust me bro” but the “i have of late, but wherefore i know not, lost all my mirth…” line is just. exactly what my experience was. i’ve always had intrusive thoughts, but one afternoon everything just Went Downhill and suddenly i couldn’t stop thinking about it for a couple weeks. i’d be normal for a while before it all started happening again. again, i know in the play he DOES know why he “lost all his mirth”—he saw his father’s ghost—but well.

the famous scene where he yells at ophelia too feels so striking. “get thee to a nunnery. why wouldst thou / be a breeder of sinners?” feels like such a PERSONAL fear of raising a child or being responsible for another life. obviously this isn’t unique to ocd but i imagine for people who have taboo themes (harm ocd, scrupulosity ocd, especially pocd) it’s especially prominent. i feel like the word “sinners” is really important because someone with moral/scrupulosity/religion-related ocd would be very preoccupied about the idea of sinning, and that guilt is something you would never wish on anyone, least of all a child. (HE wouldn't know this, but ocd has genetic factors so even though i don't know if i have it, the possibility of passing this guilt and anxiety on puts me off ever having kids even more).

that ties in to the next lines too: he says, “i am myself indifferent honest, but yet / i could accuse me of such things that it were better my / mother had not borne me. …. what should fellows such as i do / crawling between heaven and earth?” hamlet admits himself he’s “indifferent honest”—rationally he’s probably not the Worst Person In The World Ever—but in the next lines he does seem to consider himself the Worst Person In The World Ever. that kind of all or nothing thinking (small mistakes puts you in the same category as the worst, most morally repugnant criminals) is apparently really common in real event ocd. (https://ocdspecialists.com/real-event-ocd/) hamlet goes on to list everything wrong with him (“i am very proud, revengeful, ambitious…”) which itself feels so much like an intrusive thought. that self-condemnation just feels like he's trying to cover up his anxieties about not being a good person but telling everyone he's not a good person so nobody gets the wrong idea. (he's not an inherently bad person, but he can't possibly convince himself of this because what if he believes that and he starts doing bad things? what if not beating himself up makes him lose control and become even worse? better keep suffering to keep himself in check.)

sorry for clogging up your inbox!! i really wanted to put this out there somewhere but i didn’t want to put it out on my blog since i’ve never really talked about potentially having ocd (? i don’t seem to ALWAYS have it maybe i was just going through a rough patch mid 2023). again i don’t have a diagnosis or anything i’m just going by my own experience and hopefully i’d read enough about it for this to not be way off—though please correct me if i am!! hope you’re having a really nice day, thanks for reading this if you made it all the way through :)

!!! i'm so glad the post resonated with you! honestly, i've gotten some of the sweetest messages about that post from people who saw themselves reflected it in it, which is astonishing to me because i wrote it basically for myself. so it makes me very happy that it means something to you :]

not just because he NEEDS the control (if it’s all an act it means i don’t actually want to hurt anyone right? if i’m pretending to be insane i’m not actually insane?) but also because he’s afraid of being known. like my deepest fear is probably anyone knowing the extent of my intrusive thoughts and the things i feel guilty about and obsess over

YEAH. YEAH. YEAH! i sometimes catch myself having the paranoid thought that people around me can read my mind--i don't actually believe this, but i have a simmering fear of my Worst Thoughts sort of seeping out of me, so reframing hamlet in this light is. ohhhhh man. and sullied really is such a good word for it! the stains! the contamination! miasma theory was right <- JOKE

(also, "if i'm pretending to be insane, i'm not actually insane, right?" is the kind of thought that ocd will chase in CIRCLES, my god.)

i’ve always had intrusive thoughts, but one afternoon everything just Went Downhill and suddenly i couldn’t stop thinking about it for a couple weeks. i’d be normal for a while before it all started happening again

BTW ANON THIS IS PRECISELY WHAT HAPPENED TO ME AT AGE 14. SHAKING YOUR HAND. DOING A FANCY CODED HANDSHAKE WITH YOU. it really can get so much drastically better or worse at once and it's often (in my experience) hard to tell why, but even when it's not hard to tell why--i think the reasons for Losing His Mirth can be multiple. like, my OCD always gets way worse when i'm stressed about unrelated things. i can see a hamlet whose father's death pushes him over the edge into his worst-ever symptom flare, which exacerbates the grief, which exacerbates the obsessions, which...

i feel like the word “sinners” is really important because someone with moral/scrupulosity/religion-related ocd would be very preoccupied about the idea of sinning, and that guilt is something you would never wish on anyone, least of all a child. (HE wouldn't know this, but ocd has genetic factors so even though i don't know if i have it, the possibility of passing this guilt and anxiety on puts me off ever having kids even more).

YEAH. GOD. OH, MAN. anon your fucking MIND. (i personally read hamlet as having religious components to his OCD; this is at least in part me projecting lol but i think there's evidence throughout the play that he is a deeply religiously conflicted person, & this line is part of that.)

(he's not an inherently bad person, but he can't possibly convince himself of this because what if he believes that and he starts doing bad things? what if not beating himself up makes him lose control and become even worse? better keep suffering to keep himself in check.)

ocd will literally be like "okay so i'm not allowed to believe i'm a good person because if i let myself off the hook for one second i will become complacent and self-justifying and then become a bad person. could this possibly be maladaptive and self-harmful thinking? no, it's the everyone else who is wrong."

AND ABSOLUTELY DON'T FEEL SORRY FOR ANYTHING! i fucking LOVE talking about ocd hamlet this ask was SUCH a delight to receive. me clicking on this and seeing how long it was

also tbh anon it sounds like you are definitely having symptoms that could be grouped under OCD, and ultimately diagnostic labels are just the words we apply to groups of symptoms. which is to say, i can't armchair-diagnose you, but looking into coping skills/tips for OCD might help whether you "have" it or not!

thank YOU my comrade for the brilliant thoughts and analysis :3

#max.txt #asks #also i did have a good day. woooooooooo #hamlet #ocd hamlet #< need to start tagging this. for my archives

[avelera]

soooo, you know who probably has a TON of Faustus/Mephistophilis fanfiction ideas? That, even if he never writes them, will turn up in his boyfriend's library of all the books ever dreamed of but never written...which may take some influence from his relationship with said otherworldly thought-he-was-a-devil-for-a-while-and-may-not-have-stopped-by-the-1500s boyfriend...

oh my GOD, Anon, oh MY GOD

OAISDAIOSDJS

I need my smelling salts, one moment, OH MY GOD...

...OK I'M BACK

YES, Hob Gadling ABSOLUTELY projected WILDLY onto Kit Marlowe's Doctor Faustus x Mephistophilis. Did he write fic? Maybe, maybe not he definitely jerked off to fic he never wrote, I'm just saying but there are definitely Hob fanfics FOR Doctor Faustus in Dream's library of "books that were never written"

Just... oh my god, look, I've made references across many of my Dreamling fics but especially throughout "Giving Sanctuary" to Hob being utterly obsessed with "Doctor Faustus" and becoming Kit Marlowe's patron for a minute there because of it (which would have been shortly before he died) and having gone to see it so many times that he had it memorized at one point, and it being the first time he had more than a passing interest in the arts or a play (when it wasn't, y'know, his job as a printer's apprentice).

But I will admit, my assumption he'd like it was based a bit on the cliff notes version and my reading of other versions of Faust. Seeing the Arthur Darvill play was so, so vindicating because, uh huh, yeah yeah yeah, Hob was utterly obsessed with this play, and I will accept no criticism.

Like the scene where some men try to kill Faust by beheading him and he ends up just standing there, holding his own severed head in his hand as he comes to life? I bet you Hob absolutely blanched at that scene and wondered if Marlowe had been spying on him during an unfortunate moment (if he hadn't told Marlowe about it himself). Also, all of Faust's misfortunes come from his deal ending when he dies, but he gets a good life until then. Hob Gadling was totally like, "RIP, Doctor Faustus, but I'm different. My life might not always be amazing, but at least I don't have to worry about fuckin' demons dragging my still-screaming soul down to Hell!"

But also just like... the very clear themes of how a seductive, irresistible man will damn you soul to Hell. That knowledge, and learning, and ignoring institutions that try to control you in favor of living the life you want are all sins just has so many layers of what I assume were known-bisexual Marlowe's own conflict with his chosen life vs. his upbringing. And I'm sure those concerns spoke to Hob's own fears around this spectacular life he has (especially in the 1500s) and the lingering fear that one day he might have to pay the piper.

But yes, Doctor Faustus x Mephistophilis is like the original vampire seduction. Hob canonically worried specifically that he made a bargain with the Devil, that play would have raised the hair on the back of his neck but also... Mephistophilis is hot? And he and Doctor Faustus are like weird fucked up tragic soulmates? Yeah Hob had so, so (so so so) many feelings about this play!

#dreamling #doctor faustus

[yeetus-feetus]

Because the foster system is absolute shit, and I'd imagine Gotham's foster system is probs 10x worse, I've had an idea.

We know Stephanie's baby is not Tim's. But we also know Tim was willing to step up and help with the baby regardless, we know he was there for the baby's delivery too.

We also know Stephanie is not ready for a child, and that's okay. She was still basically a child herself at the time and she also feared for her babies safety if she ever was to keep it. It's okay for her to choose to give it up.

But I propose maybe Tim is the one who gets too attached here. And he's confused with himself because this child isn't even his. But he loved Stephanie, he still does though it's platonic now, and I just think he'd see that baby and immediately love it just as much.

And Tim knows he could never take this baby on just by himself, and Stephanie would never let him because again, their jobs are too dangerous.

Tim is also aware of how trash the foster system is, especially in Gotham.

So I'm imagining Tim somehow convinces Ma and Pa Kent to raise this little girl, because he can't imagine anyone else more trustworthy and qualified.

They're always down for a new kid. Ma had wanted a large family all her life, but unfortunately she was never able to have kids of her own. Clark was a miracle sent to her from above and Kon was a blessing in disguise, Ma thanks the powers that be for the chance to raise both boys.

But the Kent's have never had a daughter, and I feel like they would welcome this baby in with open arms. A little girl for them raise and dress up, and Ma's already started crocheting her a cute little cardigan.

And I think Stephanie was more worried than her child's safety than anything else too, so I think she would feel a lot less anxious handing the baby over to the Kents.

Like think of the story potential of the Kent's raising this little girl. She's safe away from all the vigilantism, and she has a normal childhood with two stable parents, just like her mother wanted for her. And then the heartbreak of that vigilante lifestyle still finding this girl despite all this anyways.

Just imagine how devestating a storyline that could be. You sacrifice a relationship with this child so she can have a better life, and it's all for nothing, because there's your little girl in a Kevlar suit swinging from the rooftops.

It was inevitable really, vigilantism is in her blood. Gotham is in her blood.

It doesn't matter that all she's known are the rolling fields of farmland, the soft embrace of a small country town, Gotham is still something living and breathing inside of her, and no one from Gotham can ever truly leave.

And you can't even be mad at the people who raised her, you can't fault them for this because they have done everything within their power, they've been good parents.

All Stephanie can do is despair. Because Tim promised her, he promised this child would never have to know the struggles of their own lives.

Her daughter will never be safe on the crumbling rooftops of this cursed city.

But here she is anyways, despite all efforts and sacrifice.

Also I feel like, if this girl is raised by the Kent's, when she does eventually come back it will be much easier for her to build up a real relationship with her mother when they reconnect. Because as someone with complicated family, I feel like it's very common for a child to want to seek out their bio-parents even if the parents who raised them were super loving and caring.

Sometimes you find your bio-parent/s and you regret ever looking for them, regret ever asking the people who raised you to help you find them. But other times you get welcomed back with open arms, wet apologies, and a good reason for why they gave you away.

I just think it'd be something nice to explore. More representation ig. Like all of Bruce's kids have known their parents before being adopted. But we've never gotten to explore what it's like for a lot of people who never even knew their bio-parents.

I mean sure, we got a glimpse of that desperation to fill the feeling of a missing piece with Jason, but we all know how that ended for him. His mother was a really bad person, and she's the reason he ends up 6feet under.

But I really want representation that shows not all parents who give up their kids are bad people. Some of them are actually doing what's best for that child because they have the maturity to understand that they wouldn't be able to provide a safe and stable environment for a kid. They're puting the child's needs first.

And I'd really like to see the struggle of a child who's only known the people raising her as her parents and despite how good they are, still feel like something is missing.

#I understand Clark also sorta had this experience but like he has lazers that come out of his eyes and his bio-parents aren't alive #I want a story with similar premise I guess but with the child's parents still currently alive so she has to grapple with that fact #Clark was sent away because his parents died #Which might be a lot easier to come to terms with than the idea that maybe your parents never wanted you and chose to give you up #And then the part where you meet said parent and feel guilty for ever thinking you simply weren't enough for them #You learn that you were enough and that you are loved and that's why you were sent away #I just really want to see that #stephanie brown #dc #tim drake #ma kent #ma and pa kent #story ideas #adoption

[candycandy00]

So I've been seeing a lot of discussion lately about the Todoroki family subplot and some things that keep being brought up are these questions: "What should Endeavor have done? Should he have just kept encouraging Touya to be a hero even though he was burning himself? Wouldn't that make him an even worse father?"

So I wanted to talk about that. A lot of Endeavor defenders seem to think his heart was always in the right place, he only wanted to protect Touya from his own quirk, etc. And I totally disagree with that idea. Let me get this out of the way first: I don't hate Endeavor as a character. In fact, I think he's a very interesting and important character for the story, to show that heroes are not infallible, that they can seem upstanding to the public while being terrible in private.

And I also think his redemption arc is going well. At every single point, I had the fear that this would be it. This would be the moment his family suddenly forgives him and all his past deeds are swept under the rug. I was sure this would happen after his dramatic battle with the nomu in Kyushu. When I saw his kids watching the battle, I thought, "Here we go. All it took was one dramatic fight and he's forgiven." But it didn't happen that way, and I'm so glad it didn't. I'm so glad he has to WORK for it. He has to KEEP WORKING for it. And I do think it's possible for him to change and actually be a decent father to his children. If he keeps fighting for that. If he keeps up his good behavior and shows that he's a changed man. So, please don't assume I just hate his guts and don't want to accept any charitable opinions of him just because I'm stubborn.

So, about what he could have done differently with Touya. First of all, he could have not tied Touya's worth as a person and as a son to his potential to be a hero that can surpass All Might. He instilled that line of thinking into Touya from the very beginning, with no regard to how that could end up backfiring. He never should have put so much emphasis on that while raising Touya.

But, okay, what's done is done. What about after he realized Touya's quirk was injuring him, literally burning him? What could he have done differently at that point? Were his options truly limited to "let him keep burning himself alive" or "tell him to abandon his dream and then ignore him in favor of the child who can still make my dreams come true"? Of course not. There's a middle ground, and Endeavor made no attempt to find it because he was too preoccupied with Shouto.

What Endeavor should have done was actually have a real talk with Touya and LISTEN to him. Because then he would have known how important being a hero was to Touya. He should have told Touya "Yes, you can still be a hero, but we need to proceed more carefully and figure out a way to get around your weakness to fire. We'll find a way for you to use your quirk safely so you can be the best hero ever!" Even if he didn't believe it himself, Touya would have believed it. Because Touya was a child. And hey, with all the cool technology and support gear in this universe, it's entirely possible (maybe even probable) that they would have actually found a workaround for Touya's quirk. He should have encouraged Touya's dream while also explaining to him that he has to be more careful not to damage his body. He could have said something like "If you damage your body too much, you won't be able to be a hero in the future! So let's find a safe way for you to train!" And actually, you know, do that.

All of this pain and suffering, the creation of Dabi the villain, could have been avoided if Endeavor had only been willing to put in the time and effort it would require to keep training Touya (carefully) and maybe do a little research on ways to help prevent him from burning himself. But Endeavor didn't want to do that because he wanted to invest all of his time into poor Shouto. He didn't have TIME for Touya and Touya's dreams and Touya's weaknesses. The truth is, Endeavor must have known that Touya could still have been a hero, even with his weakness to fire. He just couldn't be a hero that would surpass All Might. And if he couldn't do that? Then Endeavor had no interest in him.

So yeah, Endeavor had other options. He was just so eager to move on from Touya, who would have been more difficult to train, to Shouto, that he didn't even try to explore any of those options. In short, he put his own needs and interests above the needs of his son, and this is the result. Endeavor doesn't get "good father" points for telling Touya to stop training and stop burning himself. Because it was never about Touya. It was about himself.

#Dabi #Touya Todoroki #Endeavor #Todoroki Touya #Boku no Hero Academia

[seafoamchild]

it's been a very intense couple of weeks. i went to gran's funeral on Sunday. I didn't really feel much about her dying until I was at the funeral, looking at pictures of her and hearing about her life. I was a bit overcome with emotion. I cried, and I never cry. I will miss her.

it was nice to see my extended family but hard to be with my parents. I absolutely hate being with both of them at the same time. it triggers me SO much, I instantly shut down. the constant anxiety about everything. the way EVERYTHING becomes about my dad's emotions.

I've had this epiphany that my dad almost CERTAINLY has bpd. like textbook symptoms. uncontrollable rage. insanely unregulated emotions. blaming everyone else for his feelings. fear of abandonment. intense, consuming anxiety. inability to be alone. seeing everyone as either good or bad.

I've always known he was not normal, but it feels so very validating to learn that he almost certainly has a personality disorder. it makes me sad and angry. I had a very traumatic childhood. my family dynamic was all fucked up. quite frankly it was abusive. my dad would explode with anger over the dumbest shit. we were constantly walking on eggshells. I remember my mom bending over backwards to make/keep him happy. making sure everything was perfect for when he got home, even going so far as telling us to be ready to smile and excitedly greet him when he walked through the door. on one hand I get it, she was scared of him and wanted to prevent a possible rage episode. but it taught me that my dad's emotions were my responsibility, if he blew up, it was my fault, that it was up to me to not set him off. it was extremely damaging.

I totally shut down because of my dad's abuse. and to this day, I continue to immediately shut down whenever I'm with my parents. they don't know the real me. they only know my protective shell. I think they truly have no idea how much pain they inflicted upon me. I showed signs of being emotionally abused throughout childhood... super withdrawn, lack of self esteem, poor social skills, aggressive towards animals. it got even worse during adolescence and I was always made to feel that I was bad. that I was the problem. my brother was also very cruel to me, which I think was his way of coping with our chaotic home life. everyone in my immediate family was banded against me, it seemed. I felt so alone, so withdrawn, so so so bad about myself. and my dad continued being an off and on piece of shit, without a single apology to anyone ever. to this day it continues. I think he is literally incapable of changing.

I have been realizing that none of this has been all in my head. it is real. I did not get the childhood I deserved. I was raised in an emotionally abusive environment. I did not feel safe in my home. and I have suffered for years from poor self esteem, self loathing, disordered eating, depression, anxiety, and substance abuse. there is a reason for all of this. and it's not because I'm a bad person.

I am really trying to navigate how to make peace with myself. and how to make peace with the fact that I cannot change my dad and I cannot fix him. my life is up to me now. it's just a whole lot to process.

#journal

[egg-emperor]

I watched your video on Eggman being a bad father and I gotta say the parts where Orbot and Cubot flinched whenever Eggman shouted or did any quick sudden moves was such a nice detail. It showed the extent of the bots' abuse which I feel gets easily overlooked (I certainly missed it when I first watched those cutscenes). I find it hard to think that any character who was mostly depicted being horrible to others without remorse would suddenly be kind. Unless a soft side was established early on.

Thanks for watching, I'm happy I could help bring attention to smaller details too. Lost World had a bunch of animations of Orbot and Cubot in the background that I also didn't notice as I'm always too busy admiring Eggman XD but they're neat and those are my favorites. The subtle things like that also say a lot about how he treats them and how as much as they bother him, they do actually fear him and I find it interesting to take into account combined with everything else.

It makes a lot of sense for them to flinch at Eggman's sudden moves or raise in voice like that, knowing how he can get loud and physical when he's mad, it was clever of them to include. And in some parts he wasn't even particularly angry, like it's really so common that it's just their automatic reflex. The way they can be startled like that by the slightest actions of the sort from him is saying a lot about how they're commonly targets of his and we do see a lot of it on screen to know it's true.

Same here, and that's why I like the take, and apparent intention according to Flynn, that the dynamic with Sage isn't supposed to be as pure and wholesome as fandom makes it out to be. That way it tracks with how he's always treated his creations and everyone else. He isn't shown to be capable of kindness, empathy, and good deeds in any situation where it's not about self benefit and what's in it for him, so of course Sage is just based on his narcissism in her being a reflection of his genius and serving him well.

I feel like the only reasonable way for him to appear to be capable of otherwise at all is when it's a part of his trickery and manipulation for selfish gain, which is why I have the ideas and takes for the Eggman and Sage dynamic that I have. I got backlash but it's only what I wholeheartedly believe, it's just not possible for me to see or believe him suddenly being capable of a genuine kind and soft side with everything I've seen and known about him in the games all this time, with all the examples in the video.

I'm glad I'm not alone in it and that I could compile a video with the supporting evidence for it, and that it can also help highlight some of the signs that are easy to overlook but also really say a lot about his dynamic with his creations. And in this case, it's a cool attention to detail from the animators to commend them on!

#asks #dr eggman #eggman #dr robotnik #dr. eggman #orbot and cubot #abuse mention #my post

[dungeonpuppykai]

not really a request (not even sure i’m in the right ask box) buttttt i would love to hear any brain rot or wip scraps you wanna rant about. love when writers just info dump and i’ve been secretly lurking on your page for a bit. decided to make myself known

Hiiii! This is my first time doing this and I hope I didn't overshare but I am SO happy that you are making yourself known! Welcome to the blog, I hope to see more of you! <333

Now!! I am sharing two because why not? I've a lot more than these (maybe more than I'd like to admit 😭) but we will start with Auggie Walker and then move onto the Stevie one.

Auggie is an intimidating man and that's why I haven't written for him yet. I am so afraid I won't be able to capture him right and the idea is so good in my head I feel like I'll ruin it while translating it into a story 😭 but this idea has been living in my head rent free because it's a big fear for me!

And about the Stevie one, I've always been quite open about this and I will never shut up! I love, love, LOVE the sci-fi side of the MCU and specifically Steve's whole serum thing. It inspires me so much and I come up with something new everytime I see it! 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Please do let me know what you think about them! 🩷

(also, for whatever it's worth, these are my WIPs so I request no one steal them please!)

. . .

As August received an attachment from your number, his eyebrows furrowed because you knew to send them all through email. Making a mental note to reprimand you for it later, he tapped on it within the next second. Now his head tilted to the side. 

A video. 

He had asked you for some documents which your boss knew very well weren't supposed to be in this medium.

The man tapped on it nevertheless, the sound and content inside catching him off guard as his eyebrows slightly raised. He was in disbelief. Moving the phone closer to his face and away from where he held it against his work table, August increased the brightness of the screen to make sure it was you. 

Which, you were. 

"Mr. Walker…" You panted and whined, clutching one of your breasts as your other hand hid between your legs. "Oh, Mr. Walker… I am so needy for you…" You were in the janitor's closet on this very floor, phone placed on one of the shelves next to the files you had been carrying for the meeting that had just passed along your ipad. The lighting was dim and your disheveled hair stuck to your sweaty skin. "Won't you bend me over your table and make a good girl out of me~ I-" August blinked as the screen went black before a notification popped up.

Message deleted. 

The man's head spun with the sudden influx of emotions, the sudden discomfort in his boxers getting tighter as he realised what had just happened. He smirked. 

You had not meant to send it. 

.

The fire that had taken over your body was dissipating and fast as you gaped at your screen. You were the stupidest person you knew. Instead of tapping on save you had chosen to share the video you were planning to watch until you orgasmed. Since your boss August Walker was your most frequently interacted with contact, it was an instant send that took you a few moments to register as you had been busy bouncing on your own fingers to orgasm. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" You chanted in panic as you leaned against the wall of the small room, holding a shelf for support as your own heartbeat pounded through your ears. "I am so fucking–" 

There was a knock on the door.

. . .

"Where… do you think you're going, doll?" Steve was reading the Sunday newspaper by the fireplace when he saw his young wife drag her luggage bag to the front door of their humble abode. 

"Mommy and Daddy's home." Y/n responded curtly, not turning to look at him. Because his face was still of the man she had fallen in love with and married. But she couldn't let herself surrender to it anymore. 

"Without my permission or a prior discussion?" Tilting his head to the side, the man raised an amused eyebrow at the stiff girl who started to drag the heavy bag again. 

"Won't be needing any of that anymore." Since the man didn't expect what was coming, he chuckled and furrowed his eyebrows. 

He couldn't recall doing anything against her wishes in the last 24 hours. So what was this? 

"And why do you think is that?" Y/n sighed as she ceased her struggle against the luggage bag, biting her lip and closing her eyes. 

Well, the talk would have to happen sometime. 

It was now or never.

"You are not the man I married, Steve" since she usually referred to him as hubby, this felt like an insult, almost. 

The Captain put the newspaper down against his lap now. "What silly Sunday morning shenanigan is this, doll?" He snickered before shaking his head. "I know I have been busy after everything but…" Now he patted his lap. "Come here."

"No."

"You know little wives can't tell their husbands that, baby. Haven't we been over this so many times already?" His coaxing voice had her turn her back to him. 

Fuck. 

She was so in love with him. 

Why did he have to get the stupid serum?

"Good thing I am not your wife anymore, then." As she placed the ring on the shoe cupboard next to the door, Y/n failed to catch that he had stood up to the towering height the procedure had granted him.

He was a giant now. 

"This is not funny anymore, doll." Steve warned as he started to decrease the distance between them. 

"It's not meant to be. You're not my Steve. You're-" her words were suppressed by a gasp when she noticed he was now standing right behind her. 

"Who am I, then?" Though his eyes and tone turned darker, he was genuinely confused. 

"Captain America." It broke his heart when the girl backed up to create some distance between them. "The man I married was Brooklyn's most ambitious and brave… not America's pride. You're… practically a stranger" he sighed. 

This had occurred to him once but he had assured himself that they were stronger than that. 

"Come on, baby." Y/n flinched when he reached for her smaller hand and clasped it between both of his, kissing her fingertips. "I know it's different, and maybe even scary. But I am still me. So what if I am Captain America? Doesn't mean I am not your Steve… Can't you feel me?" He pressed his bigger body against hers. 

"That's the thing" she whispered, devastated. "I can't." Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt herself getting scared and breathless under him. "I have tried. Ever since the day you walked out of that machine, I have. But I can't." Y/n didn't know why but she found herself thinking about how helpless she was against him. "I don't recognize you without your face. I feel like I am in a stranger's arms every night. It's not the same. Every time you touch me it feels like I am betraying the love of my life." Though the rational part of Steve's brain felt both crushed and sadly fond of her devotion to that form of his that no one else had ever taken seriously, her next words completely flipped everything over inside his head. "Please. Let me go." Reason gave way to desperation.

Oh..

He could never do that. 

Maybe not even in death.

"Can't do that, baby." Her tears finally spilled down at his words. She started to softly struggle, the panicked gesture breaking his heart more and more by the passing second. "Why are you punishing us for something I had to do? For you, me, all of us. Come on, we are stronger than this. You knew my ambitions, you said it yourself just now." His own eyes were glassy as he breathlessly chuckled as an effort to somehow lighten the situation, ignoring her faint pleas as she struggled to push him away. "Remember-" Steve grunted as he gathered her now assaulting hands away from his neck and chest before locking them above her head. "Remember when your father didn't approve of me because he thought I wasn't good enough for you?" A trickled tear hung off the sharp tip of his nose. "Remember the hell you raised for us? You didn't even listen to me. You kept going for us until you succeeded."

But his words fell on deaf ears; something he wasn't used to coming from her. "Steve, you're scaring me! Let me go!" A thick bile settled at the base of her throat as she tried to break free, crying a bit harder now. 

"There, you said it yourself. You said Steve!" Her obvious unwillingness to this position seemed to not faze him one bit. "Silly girl! How can you call me by my name and then say that it's not me?" 

"Because you're not my Steve!" Fear was making her chest contract as she seethed out breathlessly. 

"Come on!" One of his hands trailed down her body as he caressed and groped her tits before slipping his hand under her dress. "Not your Steve?" 

"No. Your hands are big and rough! Your body is hard! You don't even smell the same! I DON'T feel you so stop!" A twisted smile now spreads on his priorly hurt features. 

"I see…" Steve lowered his head momentarily before he sighed a little. "Then," a resolution flashed in the brilliant blue of his eyes, "I guess I just have to show you that it's still me." 

. . .

#ask kai #404-isfound #august walker #august walker smut #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers smut

[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

What do you think about Carlos' sisters and the dynamic between them all? When I headcanon-ed sisters for Carlos I originally made him the youngest but that was mostly because I wanted him being a tio and I'm not really sold on the idea. It could be either way or I can see him be in the middle even. The only thing I am now pretty sold on is that either way there must be a significant age difference between them, otherwise they would have meddled in Carlos' life instead of allowing him to feel so lonely and isolated that he chose to marry a woman, but if they were still tweens/young teens or already in college or something it would make more sense.

In favour of them being older we have the comparison thing of his parents being interested in their boyfriends while never asking him about his (though I don't remember if it was ever mentioned there being something to compare, and that thing in any case could easily be filled by older cousins); and the pressure he felt over marrying, especially if at least one of them was married. That though raises the question of how had Carlos not known how his mum would act when there was wedding planning involved.

In favour of them being younger we have the mention of their quinceanera as the reference for the wedding cake he and TK wanted, and not anything else, which seems odd otherwise.

As for him feeling pressured to be prefect I don't think it would make a difference what order he was born in, since he's the only son which warrant a certain set of expectations. Also I think he's just wired that way, to a point at least, searching constantly for people's approval.

I've always thought Carlos either had older sisters or was an only child. Because of this, I have a hard time picturing him now with younger sisters. I agree that the pressure put on Carlos/the pressure he puts on himself isn't necessarily affected by whether his sisters are younger or older. Like you said, he's the only son and he's also just wired that way. Unless we find out differently, I think I have to imagine them as older sisters because that's how I've always thought about it.

We know so little about the Reyes sisters and the likelihood that we will ever find out much of substance about them is not high. That means the possibilities are almost endless when it comes to why they apparently didn't get more involved in Carlos' life. Of course, there's the possibility that they're terrible sisters, but I'm not even going to consider that without having evidence that this is the case. Maybe they aren't close with Carlos. This isn't really my head canon, but maybe they're much older and so aren't very in tune with what's going on in his life.

One potential scenario could be that Carlos didn't come out to his sisters, or at least not until much later. Carlos came out to his parents when he was 17. His older sisters would probably be in their 20s and likely would have moved away from home, or at least would be living somewhere else for college. Carlos got a complete non-reaction from his parents and felt deeply that he had disappointed them. I could see Carlos then not wanting to come out to his sisters, perhaps fearing a similar or worse reaction. And if Andrea and Gabriel weren't talking to Carlos about it, I could see them not talking to their daughters about it either. In that case, it's possible that Carlos could have married Iris without his sisters knowing that he's gay.

Or another possible scenario could be that Carlos did come out to his sisters but did not confide in them about how deeply he was hurting, or about his intention to marry Iris. We already know that good communication is not a strong Reyes family trait. We also know that Carlos is someone who wants to appear strong and in control and is not particularly likely to talk about his feelings, especially negative feelings. In fact, he was probably even worse with communication when he was younger. Maturity and opening up through his relationship with TK have likely helped him get a tiny bit better in that area. When Carlos decided to marry Iris, I could see him just going ahead and doing it and informing his family after the fact. At that point, his sisters may have just done their best to support him by accepting his decision. After all, they were raised by Gabriel and Andrea, who tried to support Carlos by simply pretending nothing had changed and never mentioning it again. You'd hope that his sisters might have been able to do better than that, but maybe they made the same mistakes as their parents.

There's also the possibility that Carlos came out to his sisters and they were loving and supportive, but it wasn't enough for Carlos because he still felt disappointment from his parents. I have a hard time believing that loving and supportive sisters would condone Carlos' marriage to Iris before the fact, so even in this scenario, I think I have to assume he didn't tell them about it until he was already married. Then, at that point, what could they do? Carlos soon realized that the marriage wasn't a good idea. Perhaps part of that came from discussions with his sisters.

I think it's most likely that we will never get any storyline involving Carlos' sisters. A throwaway line here and there is probably the best we'll ever get. However, I do hope we'll see them at the wedding and/or get at least a couple more tidbits of information about them. Their names at the very least! I feel like (unless the wedding happens in some kind of spontaneous scenario because of some kind of disaster/emergency) Carlos' sisters have to be at the wedding. Otherwise, why even have Carlos mention their existence?

I have a strong feeling that the show is never going to give us details of exactly what happened when Carlos married Iris or what the Reyes family dynamics surrounding this were like. Because of that, we can probably come up with whatever scenario feels most plausible to us and it will likely never be contradicted by canon. Personally, I'm not quite sure where I'm landing on this yet. I need more time to think about it.

#answered ask #lone star speculation

[bramblequill]

No More Running: Chapter 4 - Straight Through the Heart

Eddie stumbled through the trees, grateful for the little slivers of light the moon shone through the trees. He knew these woods pretty dammed good, but since the Upside Down he didn't particularly like the dark anymore. There was always the involuntary shuddering as goosebumps would prickle along his skin and raise the hair on his neck. He always felt he was being watched in moments like this, but he knew... he KNEW it was just residual fear from trauma. Trauma was a bitch like that. It had its way of sinking its claws into you (just like a demo-dog) and keeping ahold until you either stood your ground – faced and killed it, or let it become your all-consuming state. Eddie fought every goddammed day to not let fear and anxiety overtake him. The panic attacks had become less than that first few weeks back... but sometimes... sometimes it was still bad.

His eyes shifted rapidly searching for signs of where you had gone. He had a pretty good idea of where you would be heading assuming you knew of the clearing where people would sneak off for bonfires and beer. It wasn't quite his picnic table in the woods behind the school, and it wasn't quite skull rock... but it was nice. It was large enough to host at least a good 15 people and secluded enough that you didn't have to hush your voices making it a hot party and make out spot.

Sure, enough he found you where he expected. Fighting with himself, he couldn't decide if it'd be better to make some sort of noise to alert you to his presence or come quietly and slowly. He didn't want to spook you. You were hunched over sitting on a log, your sobs loud, whole body trembling. He could see you fidgeting with something but couldn't quite tell what you were doing. He cleared his throat once deciding it was best to make himself known... but you didn't hear him... so he coughed, loudly... and then stepped out into the clearing. He could see you better now. Your jeans were ripped at the knees (much like his favorite pair) ... usually this was taken as a fashion statement but in his world, it was just because Jeans were expensive and getting a new pair didn't happen all that often. You wore a loose fitting, very faded W.A.S.P. shirt and your hair fell around your face coming down from its ponytail. You looked up at him from where you'd been staring at... what were you staring at? Your arms? Oh... he saw now... you sat with a silver pocketknife grasped in your right hand and he could see the beginnings of slender red slices on the top of your left arm. The little angry gashes looked high enough that you'd be able to hide them with a hooded jacket, even if you pushed the sleeves up a bit... and Eddie knew that had to be intentional. His heart pained for you in that moment as you stared at him, shell shocked... no longer audibly sobbing but tears still leaking from your eyes.

"I'm sorry if I scared you" Eddie said as he stepped only slightly closer "I live in the trailer across from you... I saw you take off and you seemed upset, so I wanted to check on you..." his voice trailed off as his heart thundered in his chest. First impressions man... they matter... and he definitely didn't want to come across as a creep... "Shit... I wasn't like WATCHING you... I was in my van, just got home..."

He could see you were wary, it shone BRIGHTLY in your eyes, and of course you would be. You didn't know him, and he clearly had just found you in a very private moment. You were shuffling on the log, hurriedly trying to jam the knife back in your pocket and cover the little wounds with your hands, which also made it look like you were hugging yourself as you tried to wipe your cheeks on your shoulder with a shrug of each. "I've seen you." was all you said. Your voice so very quiet, almost a whisper.

Eddie indicated towards the log opposite from you, silently asking to sit. "Yeah? I'm not always the quietest when I come in and out of the park, sorry about that" he forced a shy smile, awkwardly shrugging and playing with his rings... God the anxiety was forming a ball in the pit of his stomach again... a coiled serpent threatening to unwind...no no not right now. Eddie had always had a soft spot for people when they were hurting. Probably due to years of abuse at the hands of his peers and a drunk father when his father WAS around. He was forever the shepherd... finding and comforting lost sheep...giving them a place, a friend group, a "home". Sitting here in front of him now you definitely looked like the type of person he could welcome into his group easily... well at least he knew you had good music tastes if your shirt was any indication of the fact. Shit... had he been quiet to long?

You were picking at the cuticles of your fingers now, eyes cast downward as you said "I personally don't mind. You've got good music tastes." you force a slight smile as you look back up at him

Eddie grins brightly, "Thank you! And if your shirt is any indication, you do as well? W.A.S.P huh? A girl after my own heart!" Eddie clutched at his chest then in a dramatic fashion stumbling off backwards off the log hoping to make you smile

He was rewarded for his silliness with a brilliant half smirk and a chuckle, "My mom used to listen to them a lot growing up. This was hers" you say as you tug the bottom of the shirt slightly before going back to picking at your skin "Do you go to the school here? I just started... yesterday. It was shit."

"Yep. I'm kind of a celebrity there" he laughs "This is my third dammed senior year... liked it so much I had to stick around ya know? But I think this is the year I finally decide to move on."

"Ahh... a repeater... yeah, I did that too. This is my second senior year technically. We've moved... a lot." you went quiet then, shifting your gaze back to the ground

"Been there, done that too. Moved in with my uncle when I was like ... umm... 8, I think? Or was it 8th grade?" he scratched his face cringing "Sorry... shitty memory."

You just smiled at him slightly but then an awkward silence settled between you two. Eddie shuffled his feet in the dirt. God why wasn't he better at this... girls... girls' man always gave him some trouble. He tried to be carefree and not care what people think but deep down it was quite the opposite. He didn't want to spill all just yet... he didn't want you to see him in pities light or think him a dammed freak.

"So, like... feel free to tell me to shut up or whatever but... are you okay? You don't have to like to tell me, I know it's not any of my business... but if I can help..." he trailed off

It was your turn to shuffle your feet around now... rubbing your hands along your arms. He could tell you were suddenly self-conscious, and he felt bad for it, but he wasn't the type to turn a blind eye in situations like this. "I know you don't really know me, but you can talk to me if you need too" he said quietly sliding off the log to sit on the ground, back propped against the wood pulling a baggie from his pocket, taking out a joint he looks at you "You mind?"

You shake your head at him indicating you didn't care if he smoked and followed his suit on sliding down onto the ground. He noticed you wince but decided not to mention already feeling like he was pressing for so much. He lit his bud and took a long drag, head falling back as he exhaled before offering it to you. He wasn't sure if you smoked but he didn't want to be rude.

You took the joint, and he watched from a sideways glance, head still upturned, as you suspended the roll between your thumb and forefinger and took a long drag. You took two more before you passed it back to him also sliding off of your log. He watched as you drew shapes in the dirt next to your leg... it was apparent you were thinking, and he didn't want to disrupt that. He waited. He shared his weed, and he waited. It really was a beautiful night he thought to himself. The breeze was not quite warm but also not cold and it blew so softly against his skin. The air was fragrant with the scent of his bud and in distance honeysuckle. Crickets and frogs sang their night songs surrounding you two as the moon shone high in the sky, peeking through treetops. He felt himself relaxing into his earthly seat more, softness overtaking his limbs and mind...keeping his sighs internal as he didn't want you to think that he was bored or impatient.

"It's my dad" your soft voice broke his thoughts "He's a prickhead... and he drinks, like, a lot. It's been like that since mom died. Ironically a drunk driver." she scoffs "He came home pissed off. I don't even really know why. I never know why." you were picking up stones and tossing them back at the ground now. "He always brings it home. Whatever's pissed him off I mean. I'm just so tired of it. Tired of cleaning up his fucking bottles and vomit, tired of being told how fucking useless I am, tired of the smell of urine in our goddamn homes or having to move and change schools so much because he can't stop getting into trouble for either whipping his dick out in public or fighting or God knows what other fucking bullshit he's up to. This is it. Once I finish this last month and a half, I'm gone. I'm getting the FUCK out of here and I'm never coming back. I can't do it anymore."

Eddie felt like his heart was shattering in his chest. Fuck he could relate. He scooted a little closer to you, the toes of his shoes meeting yours and wrapped his arms around his knees as he rested his chin on them and looked to you. A part of him wanted to reach out and take your hand and comfort you... but ... realizing now, he didn't even know your name.

"I don't know why I'm telling you all this." your voice was barely a whisper, tears streaking your cheeks

'Fuck it' Eddie thought to himself before reaching a hand out and wiping away the glimmering jewels of anguish. "I'm so sorry...no one deserves any of that. I'm not trying to take away from your experiences by telling you this, but I felt like I should share too. My old man was the same way... always in and out of prison or gutters after binders. Always drunk... and fuck he was such a hateful drunk. My mom died too...overdose got her. I think that broke dad... I mean he wasn't like father of the year or anything before that, but it only got worse after she died. He stopped caring so much about me... I became more of an accessory to his needs. He had me hotwiring cars for him so he could make get aways or just steal them outright. He taught me how to pickpocket. I didn't feel right doing any of it, but he really didn't give me a choice."

"Are you still living with him?" you asked quietly, amber eyes burning into his.

"No. Thank God no. My Uncle, Wayne... he came and took me in after the 3rd time of my father going to jail. Uncle Wayne is the best, man. Truly. He really showed me what a father SHOULD be. He did all the things you would expect. Took me fishing, patched my knees when I'd fall, consoled me when I'd angrily fight against him. Man, I don't think he's ever even raised a voice at me. I'm so goddamn lucky. So. So lucky." Eddie let his own voice trail off now... he hadn't meant to go on a tangent, and he definitely didn't want you to feel like you were throwing his uncle in your face. Sorry..."

"Don't be. He sounds amazing. I'm so glad that at least one of us has someone like that. At least I won't have to be here much longer. I don't know where I'm going to go yet... admittedly I don't really have a plan..." you laugh softly and shit, it's like music to Eddie's ears "I probably should start figuring that out." you shrug "I've applied for a few scholarships so maybe something will pull through, and I've got a little bit of money saved aside."

"Hey, we don't always have everything figured out right? If I've learned one thing from watching my uncle over the years, sometimes it's better to just not try and plan everything out and just kind of let everything happen as it will. I mean like obviously try to have some money on hand because you don't want to like to starve but... sleeping in the back of a van is always better than being around people who don't want you in their life."

"Yeah." You said softly, glancing back up at Eddie. "All I know is I can't wait. I can't take this much longer... so I'm glad the end is in sight" you laugh again softly, wrapping your arms around yourself in a hug. Eddie felt his heart wrench again. He could swear it stopped beating for a moment and sank all the way into the pit that was his stomach. Not only did your forearms bear sign of years of self-harm... so many little white scars dancing across your freckle kissed skin, but there just barely visible under the sleeves of your shirt were various bruises... a rainbow of healing stages and all the same fingerprint size. He knew then, he understood the unspoken battles you were waging at home... and suddenly he found himself feeling incredibly protective of you. Yeah, he didn't know your name yet... he'd only officially spoken to you for probably what was a few hours at this point... but in that moment... seeing the burdens you have been carrying alone... he knew he had to stay by your side.

Next Chapter - Chapter 5

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson deserved better #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson my beloved #eddie deserved better #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie and dustin #eddie fanfic #eddie fluff #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut #eddie munson masterlist #eddie my beloved #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #reader x eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #eddie diaz #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson art

[lamnwar]

I’ve requested this once somewhere else but like

I have a vague idea with Aomine, celebrating a calculus final, going to McWalmart. I recently journeyed to a Walmart with a McDonalds in it with my best friend and had literally the best time of my life. It’s like Disney world.

Anyways McWalmart might not exist in Japan but it does in my heart…..

At the McWalmart we got a free McChicken and McFlurry because the McManager was Mcflirting with my McFriend.

Hiiiii first let me say that I'm absolutely amazed by the concept of a McWalmart but that's also because I love supermarkets for some weird reason lmao also good for you and your friend for getting free food 😭 Because I didn't get to live the experience myself, I've been a bit evasive in this fic but I still hope you'll like it! Also you didn't specify the nature of your relationship so I went with bestfriend! Aomine, hope that's fine with you 💕

We're just hanging // Aomine Daiki x gn! Reader

Context: in which you and your bestie Daiki only want to forget about your exams.

Warnings: none! it's pure fluff, maybe slightly cheesy sometimes, so unless you are triggered and disgusted by the concept of friendship, there's literally nothing to warn y'all about 🥰

“You’re still here?”

You turn your head towards your friend, a tired smile on your face.

“Waiting for Daiki” you reply.

“Oh! Well, if we don’t meet again, have a nice summer!” she says as she waves you goodbye.

“Same to you!”

You sigh, resting your head against the wall as you look at your watch again. It’s been around ten minutes that you’ve left the classroom, having finished your test, and it’s been ten minutes that you’ve been waiting for your best friend to be done. He isn’t a dummy, but he did slack off most of the year, so he might be struggling a bit in there. You tried to sneak a peak minutes earlier, but the teacher shooed you off, fearing that you had intentions to help Daiki cheat. Obviously, that’s not what you wanted; you only wanted to take a look so you can assess how close he was to finishing.

When the classroom door opens dramatically and you hear a loud,

“Thank fucking God we’re done!”

You immediately stand straight, looking at the giant boy standing next to you.

“You’re not asking me how it was?” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t wanna talk about it” you shake your head.

The last thing you want to have in your head right now is your calculus exam. You’re finally done with it, and all your exams as a matter of fact, so really your goal right now is to get rid of these months of accumulated stress.

“I get you” he smiles as you get out of the school’s gate, “wanna do something?”

You raise your shoulders. You couldn’t care less about what to do now, you just want to get as far away as possible from these buildings that you’ve seen way too often. In silence, the both of you walk aimlessly, simply appreciating the nice weather. Daiki’s eyes lay on you from time to time, a soft look on his face.

The two of you have known each other for years, basically growing up together. Naturally, people often wonder if you’re dating, and it’s not the case. Not that you would mind if it was the case, but you can’t say that your friendship isn’t satisfying enough. If there is someone you always want to hang out with, it’s Daiki, and it’s been like that from the day you’ve become friends. It started with him accidentally hitting you in the face with a ball when you were in primary school; you were crying in the principal office while a tiny, flustered Daiki tried to explain that he didn’t hit you on purpose, and he offered a whole pack of sweets as a token of his sincere apologies. The following days, you would come to become his best playmate, and yet another reason for him to rush out of classes to go on the court. Growing up, it just made sense that you’d grow closer to reach the current nature of your relation.

You sigh, as the sunrays kiss your cheeks. He raises an eyebrow at you, knowing that you’re about to speak.

“Wanna eat something?” you ask as you stretch your arms.

“Yeah, I’m famished.”

You laugh, earning a confused look from him.

“Famished? Since when you have that kind of vocabulary?” you tease him.

He grumbles, which makes you laugh more.

“I know words, y’know” he tries to defend himself.

You hum, not entirely believing him. As you keep walking, you look around for a descent place where you could both have a snack. You finally settle for the supermarket that’s only a couple of minutes away, too lazy to walk more than this. You enter the premises, automatically going to the fast-food outlet situated at the entry of the supermarket. Daiki and you pass your command, and you’re searching for your wallet at the bottom of your backpack, when you hear your friend tsk.

“My treat” he simply says.

“Such a gentleman!” you smile clapping your hands.

“Just say thank you like a normal person” he rolls his eyes.

You laugh, which makes him give you a soft hit on the top of your head. But before you can whine about it, he gently pats the same spot, leaving you a bit flustered. You see the smug look on his face – nothing makes that giant idiot happy like having you out of words. You’re generally the one teasing, and he’s the one struggling to find something to say; but from time to time, he manages to shut you down, and while you may not like it in the moment, you can’t help but let him have some wins.

Both of you sit down, you with your meal, and him with his pile of food. He’s a big boy, so he must eat twice what you eat. You take a bite, only realizing at this moment that you too were “famished”, to reprise the blue-haired boy’s word. You watch, amused, as he tackles his food, stuffing his mouth like a kid. He’s quite cute like that, you won’t deny it. Daiki is the kind of person that generally intimidates people with his appearance. It only makes sense given how tall he is, not to mention that he’s pretty muscular and always wear a frown on his face. But you’ve always known his other faces, the parts of him that make him appear sweet, soft, goofy or nice. Like right now, when you’re witnessing the expressions of a man who finally gets to appease his hunger.

“Want some fries?” He asks, mouth half-full.

You shake your head, keeping yourself from laughing knowing that he’ll think that you’re making fun of him again.

“Dude don’t speak with a mouth full!” you scold him.

“I do what I want” he keeps on talking/chewing.

You take a sip of your drink, pretending to be annoyed by is behaviour. In reality, he amuses you. There’s never a dull moment with him, the two of you always find a way to entertain yourselves no matter the context – as long as you are together. So, once you are done eating, you decide to walk around the supermarket; not that you have any errand to run, you just want to be with Daiki longer, doing absolutely nothing. And he obviously agrees, preferring to wander between the aisles with you rather than going home and be bored to death. You walk around, occasionally stopping to look at products that you have no intent of buying, taking bites from the samples station as if you haven’t eaten enough already, watching the tiny old ladies stopping your best friend every five minutes to ask him to pick something from the top shelves.

“Let’s play a game” you spurt, a mischievous grin on your lips.

“Sure, what?”

“Let’s guess what kind of life people are living based on what they’re buying.”

Daiki smiles, before discreetly pointing at the nearest customer’s basket. Shaving cream, some oranges, a loaf of bread, and pack of beer.

“Single man, who’s just recently started the gym.”

The tall boy hums at your guess, putting on his best thinking face.

“I’d say he got a cat, to impress girls because he knows girls love cat daddies.”

You nod in approval, before looking for your next subject. Couple of aisles away, you find a trolley with no owner, and you take all your time analysing its content.

“Family, I’d say five people. The parents don’t love each other anymore but they stay together for the kids. That’s why there’re so many bottles of cheap wine in there” says Daiki.

You look at him, entertained by the seriousness of his expression.

“My boy really went deep there” you comment “but I back you up – I’d even say the guy’s got a thing for his wife’s sister. But they try to look good for their relatives, hence the avocados.”

You laugh, before feeling someone’s gaze on you; and when you turn around, you are faced with the owner of the trolley. Before you get scolded, Daiki grabs your hand and you both run away, finding yourself in the outdoor section of the supermarket. Between the barbecue stuff and the gardening products, you find two outside chairs exposed, on which you sit to catch your breath. You inhale and exhale frenetically, trying to recover from that sudden race that had you cross the immense building from one side to the other. You look at your side. Daiki’s long body is lazily spread on the chair, his hands behind his head as he sends you side glances. He seems barely tired, but to be fair, he’s an athlete so naturally he is in better condition than you.

“Well, that was fun” you laugh softly, as you too take a more comfortable position on the chair.

You can feel the tag crumble under your body, but you couldn’t care less. Anyways, no one is around this section of the supermarket, which really creates a whole moment just for the two of you.

“We should do that again.”

“What? The hanging out at the supermarket part or the judging people part?” you question.

“Both, I’m having a blast right now” smiles the young man.

You nod, agreeing. It’s been more than an hour that you are here, and while this might be the most mundane place to be, you haven’t felt bored for a single second. Maybe it’s hanging out with Daiki, maybe there’s something special about this supermarket, but you feel just at ease, almost happy. Right now, there is not a single worry in your mind.

“Strap on then Daiki, because that’s not gonna be our last supermarket date” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“That’s not a date” he pouts.

“It is.”

“Shut up dummy, I wouldn’t date you in a million years.”

You smile, leaning to the side to be closer to your best friend.

“Love you too, Daiki” you chuckle.

You lean more to give him a quick kiss on the cheek and stand back to see the red colouring his face entirely. Yeah, today’s really a good day.

#ik that's short but i love it that way #oh to be daiki's best friend and getting to live small moments like that with him #i really enjoy writing bsf!aomine #thanks for the request! and i hope you like it too <3 #aomine daiki #kuroko no basuke #knb #aomine x reader #knb x reader #aomine fluff

[meili-sheep]

Diluc's Mondstadt Relationships in detail 4/4

Final part!

0 / 1 / 2 / 3 / x

Noelle and Diluc

I don't think Noelle originally knew that Diluc was a captain. But I think it would eventually reach her ears. And when Diluc was around her age, he was a cavalry captain! Like she looks up at Jean in aw, but Diluc! That would be a whole another level! He must have been an amazing Knight (And maybe not knowing the whole story, just assumed he took over because his father passed. Cause I highly doubt that Diluc would be mean towards her) so she goes and asks him for training on being a knight. This makes Diluc HIGHLY uncomfortable... But I think that he couldn't really say no.

Adelinde loves Noelle. Like out of all the kids Diluc has taken under his wing. Noelle is probably her favorite cause Noelle doesn't hesitate to help out. She's brought up several times that maybe Diluc should try and hire Noelle.

"Adelinde... She wants to be a knight."

"And you could just have a personal Knight! And extra help around the house!"

Diluc doesn't like this Idea. I can see him taking her out on business trips (especially if Jean is saying he should have an escort) to help her try and get more outside experience. Definitely is the first to remind her that being a knight isn't the be-all-end-all in the world. Because He defiantly fears that Noelle might end up like his father, and be so focused on trying to be a knight, and not recognize their others gifts and how they can help people in other ways.

Noelle quickly becomes the first port of call if one of the knights has to deal with Master Diluc. And I think once she learns Diluc's story. She might start questioning the Knights a little more...

Razor and Diluc

Next to Lisa, Razor is probably closest to Razor. And those 2 are the closest he's got to parents. I think Diluc has known about Razor longer because, Razor lives in DIluc's backyard. Diluc, I believe, also understands Razor's want to not be taken in. And well, they kind of have a mutual agreement. Razor chases off the boars out of the winery, and he can help himself to grapes and whatever else he catches. Diluc is probably also the first Razor goes to if something is off around the woods.

Their relationship is tranquil. Cause Razor doesn't like talking, but neither does Diluc. Razor will often come in, and DIluc will help him read through storybooks. Razor really likes people reading to him. But honestly, they just often will sit out in the woods and have a nice time chilling.

Also, Razor says Diluc like "DeeLook!" And it's close enough Diluc never says anything about it and will always accept anything that has 'To Deelook' on it.

Rosaria and Diluc

You will never see them interact during the day. But at night, if you carefully look carefully right around dawn, you'll see two people hanging out on the rooftops having a nice smoke break.

Rosaria is totally aware of who the Darknight hero is. But totally gets the reason why he hides it. She doesn't need to know his backstory. She knows who he is now, and that's enough.

And the feeling is mutual. Diluc doesn't know Rosaria's past. And doesn't need to. He knows her that's here now. And that's again is good enough. They've got a pretty quiet relationship, not interacting during the day, really. Maybe at night at the tavern, but they won't really appear friendly. He'll just serve her her drink and be one his way. I think they've got a low-key langue of their own. And can pass messages with little actions over physically talking.

So you might get this situation.

Rosaria raised an eyebrow at Diluc. = That information I asked you for?

Diluc waving his hand = Nothing positive

Diluc hands her drink with the handle facing her = But I've got a lead

Rosaria huffs and pays him = Same time?

Diluc takes it and gives a slight bow = Same time.

Sucrose and Diluc

So Surcrose is terrified of Diluc. Like Jean is scary, but Master Diluc! With that frightening face! Who was a knight! And a captain at 14! It's scary!

She's actually gone up to help Albedo, and Diluc is there, and they are just hanging out. Surcorse just hides and waits for Diluc to leave. BUT HE WON'T (Because this is how Albedo and Diluc hang out) And eventually, Diluc goes to leave but Find a half-frozen Surcrose just outside the cave and, of course, carries her in and warms her up. Is totally confused why she was waiting out there.

And Diluc probably is heating up the cave as best he can. This prompts Albedo to ask questions, and Diluc gives curt answers more focused on helping the confused Sucrose. Cause?? He's seen her around but never interacted before. Low key was like 'whatever' towards here. But now He's got big brother mode on, and Ops, sorry Sucrose, you've doomed yourself. That guy you are terrified of now knows your unhealthy habits and has protected mode on. She'll slowly get used to him, but it's a bit of a long road and a lot of rumors to get past, but I think a good Diluc head pat would go a long way.

#noelle #noelle genshin impact #noelle headcanons #razor genshin impact #razor headcanons #rosaria #rosaria genshin impact #rosaria headcanons #sucrose #sucrose genshin impact #sucrose headcanons #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc headcanons

[midgardianweasley]

Movie Night

Movie night

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: It’s friday night, or more commonly known as movie night for the Avengers. A horror movie was put on and Y/N isn’t feeling so brave, luckily she’s got a Romanoff nearby.

Warnings: coulrophobia (fear of clowns), mentions of the IT movie and pennywise.

Word Count: 2.5k

Идиоты. - ‘Idiots.’

Requests are open!

“I vote action movie”

“We watched an Action movie last week, Sam.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly looking up and meeting my eyes, earning a small smile in return, attempting to provide some sanity for the man.

“Plus, do you not think we’ve had enough action for one week?” Bucky grumbled, this week having taken a toll on everyone. We were all exhausted from our missions, some more than others, the soldier being one of them.

“Okay okay, no action, damn” Sam put his hands up in defeat, accepting that he wasn’t going to win this one. A few more options had been suggested, Bruce suggested rom-com, Thor suggested comedy, Vision proposed a documentary, all of which were shut down with groans and sounds of protest.

I turned to my assassin girlfriend who had been sitting beside me watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk on her face, her green eyes darting around the room whenever someone else spoke and taking sips of the drink she had in her hand. I nudged her slightly to get her attention

“Hey.”

“Hi”

“If it was up to you, what would you choose for movie night?” I asked. She morphed her face into a thoughtful one, still with a slight smile on her face, taking time to make her decision.

“If it was completely up to me? I would-”

“Aha!” Tony interrupted with a loud snap of his fingers. “I know, we haven’t watched a horror movie in a while, and the new IT movie just came out, we can watch that” He smirked, proud of his contribution to the discussion at hand. I looked around the room, praying that they would pick anything else, literally anything, even Vision’s documentary.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be really into it as they all shared nod’s and “yeah” “sounds good” before splitting up to go and get their snacks and blankets to bring back to the large sofa.

Although I wouldn't admit it to the rest of the group, I was absolutely terrified of clowns and have been since I was a child. If there was a clown at a birthday party or an event, I’d pretend I was sick so that my mum wouldn’t make me go. She soon noticed a pattern in my behaviour, putting the pieces together and realising that I hadn't come down with the flu three times that month, I was avoiding the ‘entertainment’ of the parties.

She tried explaining that it was just a guy in makeup and a funny suit, showing off fun tricks and jokes. However, 9 year old me still refused to attend, faking a sneeze and hiding under the blanket.

“Woah, Y/L/N, you good over there?” Tony furrowed his brows, concern written all over his face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I wish it was a ghost.

I regained my composure, nodding and sending a firm smile his way, hoping that would be enough to prevent any further questioning. With a shrug, he made his way out of the room and caught up with Thor to explain what ‘IT’ was.

“You don’t look so good, sure you’re okay?” Nat placed her hand on my back, rubbing small, reassuring circles with her palm. I wanted to put on a brave face and tell her I was fine, that there wasn’t a problem and my heart wasn’t racing with fear, but the look on her face, while caring and concerned, was also warning me not to lie to her. Not that i’d manage anyway, she always had ways of finding out the truth eventually.

I shook my head, letting out a small sigh and turning in my seat to address her. My eyes met hers and I felt my heart settle slightly just by looking at her, she always made me feel safe.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” She whispered, her hand coming up to rest on my cheek, her thumb stroking my cheekbone in small movements.

“It’s so silly, really.”

“Nothing is silly if it’s upsetting you Detka. Tell me.”

“It’s this movie.”

The confusion was obvious on her face, yet she stayed quiet, allowing me to elaborate.

“I just, I’ve never been the best with clowns. Ever since I was a child, I’ve had this fear of them. If I saw one, I’d run in the opposite direction, which was more often than one would think. I mean, seriously, who wants one of those things at a party? What happened to princess parties? Or tea parties!” I exclaimed, my tone becoming more intense as I spoke.

Natasha nodded, I could almost see the cogs turning in her head, figuring out how to approach the situation. After a minute or two, she focused her eyes back on me and her hands had trailed down to meet with mine, interlocking them in the process.

“Do you want to skip it tonight?” She suggested.

“No, no, I don’t want to cause a fuss. Plus, I kinda don’t want the others knowing.”

“Are you absolutely sure? I’m sure we can pull a sickie for one night.”

“I’m sure. Just, can you stay next to me? And let me hide if it gets really bad?”

“Of course you can. I’ll be next to you the whole time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

___________________

We were at the haunted house scene in the movie. There had already been jumpscares that I'd managed to avoid for the most part, but I don’t think I've moved past Georgie’s death yet, let alone have time to process the psycho killer clown on the screen.

Eddie was in a room alone, he was staring at this dirty, old fridge and a white hand had appeared, curling itself around and tapping on the side so you could only see it’s fingers. I tugged the blanket that was laid across Natasha and i’s laps and pulled it up to my nose, eyes still on the screen, but prepared to take cover. It appears as though nothing has changed from all those years ago.

As the fridge door creaked open, my blanket had raised higher and higher, my grip tightening by the second while the hand reappeared, this time, you could see it’s entire body contorted into this small space.

“Nope. No, absolutely fucking not. No.” I mumbled, covering my eyes with my fluffy shield. Luckily, Nat had stolen the sofa at the back, meaning I could skip the scary parts without anyone taking much notice, them being too entranced by the movie. Weirdo’s.

In my safety bubble I'd created, I felt my girlfriend’s hand on my thigh, rubbing small circles to reassure me that I was okay, and that she was here. I shuffled a little so I was closer to her, if that was even possible, her then adjusting so that her hand was still on my thigh, but another arm was wrapped securely around me, pulling me into her side a little more.

I assumed we would stay like that for a bit, until she started to shift more noticeably and lifted the part of the blanket closest to her, and put it over her own head, taking me by surprise, a faint gasp leaving my lips when seeing that she’d joined me.

“You doing okay under here?” She spoke softly, a hint of amusement playing on her face as she looked at me folded up into a ball.

“I am. This blanket protects me from all.”

“Of course it does, the fluffier it is, the more protection, right?” She quoted words i’d spoken earlier on when bringing in the blanket for us.

“Are you sure you’re not going to boil under there?”

“Nope. And even if I do, the fluffier the blanket, the more protection from cannibal clowns.” I’d explained proudly. Yes, I'm an Avenger that fights extraterrestrials and demigods and still runs to a blanket for safety, leave me alone.

We stayed under there for a minute or two, holding hands and sharing small kisses while the movie continued and we hid in our little bubble.

“C’mon lovebirds, the movie isn’t over yet, you can continue that when we’ve gone to bed if you must.” Stark called out, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and retreat back to her previous position.

I don’t know what ran through my mind, I clearly didn’t think twice about the situation I was in, my default being to follow Natasha and pull the blanket down and off my head. Upon resurfacing from my cocoon, I looked towards the Television. Bad idea. With a shriek that I'm almost certain could be heard from Asgard, I flew under the blanket again after seeing Pennywise with all of his teeth on show, edging towards Eddie to eat him.

Natasha’s arms wound their way around me again, slightly shaking now from the fright. Even though the blanket tended to muffle sounds, I could hear the room fill with laughter and comments from the Avengers.

“I didn’t know your voice could go that high Y/L/N”

“Pennywise! You scared Y/N!”

“Y/N, it’s literally-”

“How about you guys shut up and watch the movie? Otherwise I swear to god Thor, I’ll bring snakes in here and Sam, I’ll cut the wings off of your suit.” I heard the redhead next to me threaten, alongside some more punishments to the others who laughed, immediately silencing them, all of them knowing that she wasn’t one for an empty threat.

Even though the laughter died down and no more words were spoken, tears still built up in my eyes and were daring to fall down my cheeks. I feel so embarrassed. A room full of superheroes and I was scared to death over a fictional clown in front of all of them.

I tried to keep my sniffles to a minimum and at a level where no one could hear me, however, they seemed to have caught Nat’s attention as she whispered to me, loud enough for me to hear, but quietly so that it was only me that could hear.

“Mind if I come in?”

I chose not to verbally respond, instead, I pulled the edge of the blanket up, allowing her to bend down and make her way underneath. After making herself comfortable, she turned to me and did, what felt like study, my face before tutting under her breath.

“Идиоты. Are you okay?” I smiled at her speaking Russian. She often switched between the two, interchanging within sentences. I’d been around her enough to pick up on some of the terms, funnily enough she’d said that word so often, my understanding was immediate.

“Feeling a bit humiliated” My voice came out weak and slightly gravelly from the crying, her thumb immediately wiped the tears off of my cheeks, lingering afterwards.

“Don’t be. Everyone has their fears, you shouldn’t be embarrassed by having them. Okay? It just means you're human.” She patiently explained, sparking a question to leave my lips before realising.

“Do you have a fear?”

She smiled “mhm”

“Can I know what it is?”

She leaned in closer to me, lips hovering beside my ear so I could feel and hear her breathing quietly.

“Идиоты” She whispered, resulting in me clamping my hand over my mouth to limit the noise my laughter was making.

“There’s that smile I love.” She took my chin in her index finger and her thumb, her face once again, coming closer towards mine before our lips met in the middle, sharing a soft, quick kiss, distracting me from any embarrassment i’d previously felt.

________________

The movie had just finished, everyone was getting up and starting to clear up any mess they’d made, mainly popcorn that had fallen everywhere, Wanda and Vision being the main culprit, jumping at the scary parts had caused a popcorn avalanche near their seats.

Nat and I gathered our blankets and snacks we’d brought in, trying to ignore the slight tension hanging in the air, and just as we were about to walk to our bedroom, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Peter.

Rocking back and forth on his heels and fidgeting with his hands, he smiled.

“Hey, uh- miss Y/L/N. Miss Romanoff, sorry, I just wanted to come and make sure you were okay.” He rushed, clearly anxious to approach us considering the telling off Natasha gave everyone earlier.

“I’m okay, thank you Peter. You can call me Y/N by the way, ‘miss’ makes me feel old.” I chuckled, visibly seeing his shoulders relax at my response, he was really sweet, never wanting to get on anyone’s bad side. He’s a good kid.

“Sorry mi-,Y/N, sorry, I’ll remember for next time. That movie was pretty freaky, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Feeling more relaxed, I made a slow but steady beeline for the bedroom, wanting to have cuddles with Nat and go to sleep, hopefully forget the movie ever happened. Soon enough, we were both changed into a vest top, I wore a pair of shorts and Nat wore a pair of sweats and we were in bed, facing each other with our legs tangled together, our noses bumping every so often.

“I love you” I mumbled in between kisses, eyes opening briefly to be met by her green orbs looking back at me.

“I love you more, Detka.”

A silence then overtook the room, only being able to hear the breeze outside and a slight whistle from where it was flying through the trees. I’d usually adore this, finding peace in the wind and the darkness, tonight however, it felt unsettling. All I could hear in my head was the soundtrack to the movie, picturing the bloody teeth and that creepy smile from earlier in my head.

“Love?” I nudged my girlfriend’s nose gently, hoping she was still somewhat awake.

“Mhmm?”

“Can you, can you possibly sing to me?” Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile on her face, wrapping her arms tightly around me before humming a quiet melody, sending me into a blissful sleep.

By noon the next day, I had received apologies from everyone in the compound, a couple of bone crushing hugs from Thor and some complementary pancakes that Wanda had made with some help from Bruce, aprons on and covered in flour. Everyone tucked into their individual stacks, enjoying some lighthearted conversation, Nat taking the opportunity to press a small kiss to the back of my hand, I quickly returned the gesture. It was lovely.

Movie night was a rollercoaster, but at the end of the day, I was surrounded by the best people, and nothing would change that, not even the fear of clowns.

Though they’re still really fucking scary.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

#Natasha romanoff #Natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff lfuff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanova #natalie rushman #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanov

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 01 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 2.8 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

Next part (02)->

{Vikings Masterlist}

×

Sailing Into The Unknown

Walking fast, you keep up with the two Norsemen coming right behind you. Unlike the rest of your maids, who were caught hiding or trying to leave the castle, you were found in your chambers. You knew they'd find you, one way or another, and you'll have much more to gain if you keep fear and despair away from your mind.

You knew this day would come. Your father, the King, was sure of it, and so were you. The political implications of King Ecbert and King Aelle in the last years brought you to this moment. An attack was imminent, and when you were told the Vikings were once again clashing on your cost like the waves, you knew this was inevitable. The only thing you can hope now is that they'll either let you live or give you a quick death. You're a threat, that's obvious. Aethelwulf may be the heir, but you're forth in line after his two sons. And that puts you in a dangerous position.

A yelp from one of your maids gets your attention, and you give her a look. You get why they're scared. These men look like monsters to them, speaking a strange language, dressed in dark, hard material, covered in blood. And everything they were told about the Norsemen, is that they're all savages. Worse than animals, soulless. Fortunately for you, one of the few things you actually wanted to do that your father allowed was to learn the Vikings language. Ecbert taught you himself, and you feel relieved to know what they're saying.

When you reach the main hall, you're pushed to the center, near a table. The maids all stick together, trying to pull you with them as they fall to the ground, using their skirts to dry off the tears. But you stand up, looking around. The place is flooded by them, the so-called monsters. Some are chatting, laughing even. Some of them have their eyes on you and on the other ladies. There's no way to know what will happen next, but you know who's in charge here.

The legend, the man they believe to be a descendant from the Pagan god, Odin. Ragnar Lothbrok. If you want to stand a chance to get out of here alive, that's the man you need to talk to. And, as if being called, he comes from the hall, alongside two other men. He looks, at the same time, exactly how your father described, but also very different. A paradox. His eyes scan the room, and, as you make your way over him, they lay on you.

One of the men who were with him come forward, standing on your way. Looking up, you sustain his stare. “I wish to speak with Ragnar.” You say, trying not to smile at the confused expression on the man's face. Nobody here expects you to speak their language.

“Princess (Y/N).” Ragnar sings songs, and the man steps aside. He has an axe in his hand, playing with it as he comes closer to you. “I was just having a small chat with your dear father.”

“Did you kill him?” The answer is obvious, but still, you need to know. The funny expression on his face changes and he pinches his eyebrows together “My father always said that, if he had to die at all, he'd like to be killed by you.”

“Oh.” He exclaims, glancing at someone behind you. “His wish was granted.”

Nodding to yourself, you look down. You have been preparing yourself for this moment ever since the news of Ragnar's return arrived, but still, your heart sinks a little. “Alright then.” It sounds stupid to ask him to simply let you go. This won't happen. Still, you don't want to face death scared, like your maids, crying and yelling. So, standing before Ragnar, you push your hair away from your shoulders, exposing your neck. “Do it already.” With both hands on your hips, you take a deep breath.

But Ragnar doesn't move, his lips break into a smile. Slowly, he leans closer, his mouth on your ear. “What are you doing?”

“I know you'll kill me. But I don't want to go like them.” Tilting your head at your maids, you shrug your shoulders. “I don't want to be taken as a slave either. So I guess that's it, king Ragnar.” Unlike him, you keep your voice as loud as before. You don't mind being heard.

“Do you–”

Ragnar is cut off by someone's shouts. Soon enough, a man comes, being held by two of the Norsemen. When they move a little, you recognize Edward, the man you were supposed to marry in a short amount of time. He's hurt, a black eye and a wounded lip. The men throw him on the floor, and he stands on his knees. Perhaps you should pity him... But no. It may not be kind of you, but you can't pretend you feel something you don't.

“Princess (Y/N), my lady.” He mumbles, trying to get to his feet and failing. “Stay away from them.”

Ignoring him, you turn to face Ragnar again. “As I was saying, there's no other option in this situation, so you might as well get done with it.” Giving the axe a look, you raise your eyes again. “I'm ready.”

“Don't be stupid, (Y/N)! Get away from him!” Edward shouts, and you run a hand through your hair, frustrated. Even now, he still tries to tell you what to do. You're tired of being ordered around. At least in death, you want to make it on your way.

“Shut up, Edward!” You burst out, moving to stand a few feet away from him, talking in his language since, of course, he wouldn't even dream of learning the pagans tongue. “It's over, don't you see it? We're both dying today, and honestly...” Now, you can say it. You can finally say it, and you can't help but smile. You'll be dead in a minute, but you never felt so... Free. “I'm happy my fate is to die by the Vikings... That's far better than marrying you.”

When you're done talking, Edward jerks forward, too fast, managing to grab your arm with one hand and hitting your face with the back of the other. You taste blood on your mouth, falling to the ground, but easily pushing yourself back up as the Norsemen pull him back, away from you. “You little whore!” He tries to set free, but it's useless. A laugh escapes your lips. “I'm so glad you'll die today. I'm so glad you'll join your devil of a father.”

With a hand on your jaw, you stare at him, shaking your head lightly. “You call then savages, but you were the only one in this room to hit me.” Turning away from him, you return to where Ragnar stands, watching the whole commotion. “So, king Ragnar?”

You can tell he's thinking. About what, you have no idea. From what you've heard, they don't need much thought before killing someone. “I could kill you right here, princess, but this speech you just gave got me interested.” Pacing around you, he swings his axe, resting it on his shoulder. “My wife, a former princess herself, might actually like you.”

“Aslaug?” A man says, and Ragnar looks at him. Following his gaze, you see a man with blond, dirty hair, pulled back in some kind of braid. “She hates Christians. I don't see how she'll like this one.”

“Well, I've never seen a Christian act like this. Have you, Bjorn?”

“No.” The man admits, eyes finally meeting yours, just before you look away from him.

“Well, my wife has been pissing me off lately, so anything that might distract her for a bit sounds like a good idea to me.” He speaks slow, and some people laugh. “So, Princess (Y/N). I will let you chose your fate.” He's back at your face, looking down at you. “Would you rather come with me to Kattegat, or would you rather die here, with your crying maids?”

Giving the women a look, you weigh the odds. Death is final, the very end. Life is full of possibilities... But are you willing to risk it? “Would you keep me safe? I mean...” Gesturing at the other men, you sigh. “I'm sure you understand what I mean.”

“Nobody touches the princess,” Ragnar yells, his voice echoing through the walls. “Is that enough?” He asks you in a much lower voice.

“I guess it is.”

That said, he walks away. Following him with your eyes, you see as he stops by Bjorn. Bjorn Ironside, his oldest son. His name is also well known here. Ragnar tells him something before disappearing, and his son gives you a look. It doesn't take long for you to understand Ragnar told Bjorn to keep an eye on you, since, as you walk down the beach to the boats, Bjorn silently walks beside you, like a bodyguard. He helps you climb up on to the boat, a strong hand on your waist, pushing you up.

When you finally start sailing, you get an idea of their army. Too many boats, filled with far too many warriors. You can't help but make your way to the back of the boat, watching as your home grows distant. But calling it home is a compliment. This was just somewhere you lived, surrounded by people who always expected something of you. Where you were forced to act a certain way, just because you were unlucky enough to be born a princess.

What's coming now, is completely unexpected, unforeseen. If anyone ever told you you'd be sailing away from Wessex, in a Viking boat, you wouldn't believe them. But the feeling that really gets to you, leaving you utterly perplexed is that you feel... Good. Free, even. You can't even count how many times you desired you could just disappear, leave everything behind and go somewhere entirely new. Maybe you're crazy, your mind completely lost already, but you somehow find joy in it. In sailing away, into the unknown, with the very people you were taught to hate and fear.

But this is far better than what your future was holding back there. An unhappy marriage with a disgusting man. This is far better.

Days after you left Wessex, a violent storm starts falling at daybreak. The rain comes lightly at first, but by the moment you stand up, it starts pouring. One of Ragnar's friends, named Floki, stays on the edge of the boat, holding on tight with one arm, the other stretched out. He's laughing, saying things you don't quite understand the meaning of. It's about Thor, and Odin, and othter of their gods. He seems unaffected by the crashing waves. Stumbling, you leave the protection of this dark fabric they hanged above the ship, getting on your knees next to Floki. You don't know what's soaking you, the rain, or the waves, high enough to hit the boat.

“Hear this, Princess?” Floki yells, trying to make himself heard above the deafening sounds. “This is–” A huge wave hits both of you, and Floki almost falls back. But he regains his balance, laughing even louder.

“Will the boat sink?” You ask him, yelling at the top of your lungs. “I can't swim! If we sink, I'll drown.”

“So will I,” Floki answers, glancing at you before turning his attention back at the ocean. This makes you burst into laughter too because you never thought someone who can't swim would face the waves like this.

“(Y/N)!” Someone calls, and you turn around, pushing wet hair away from your face. Bjorn comes your way, grabbing both your arms and helping you stand up. “What are you doing here?”

“She's mesmerized by the powerful waves!” Another wave, hitting both you and Bjorn as well. You're knocked down, your back against Bjorn's chest. But despite the sting you fell on your leg, Floki's laughter makes you giggle. These people are crazy. Nobody on Wessex would be this happy, this carefree in such a storm.

“Come.” Bjorn pulls you with him, back to the safety of the handmade roof. He helps you settle down, and as he does, you lock eyes with him. You've never seen blue eyes like this. “Stay out of the rain.”

“Floki is in the rain. Why can't I?” You snap back, not really enjoying the bossy tone.

“Let the girl have her fun, Bjorn.” You recognize Ragnar's voice, and you find him rowing, trying to keep the boat moving despite the violent waves. There's an empty seat beside him, so, pushing yourself up, you make your way there.

“Mind if I help?”

“If you think you can.” He breathes out, and you nod, grabbing the oar. “Keep it steady... Push, then pull.” He tells you, and you mimic his movements. The thing is heavy, and it takes only a few seconds for your arms to start hurting. But you keep up, ignoring the looks you're getting. No woman would be allowed to do such thing in Wessex. So you're enjoying it, even though you're strength is nothing compared to the rest of them.

When the heavy clouds are blown away, and the sky is once again blue and serene, you bend over the edge of the boat a little, just to better see where the ocean meets the sky, on the horizon. The chaos was replaced by a low chattering, laughter, and giggles. You're mostly on our own, not really speaking to anyone but Ragnar. He's a curious man, and he's curious about you. You're not sure why though.

“Here.” A voice makes you turn around, sitting down. Bjorn offers you a cup of water, which you take and drink after muttering a ‘thank you’. When you give him the empty cup, you wait for him to walk away so you can resume your horizon watching, but instead, he settles down beside you, letting out a heavy breath. “We'll reach Kattegat in a few days.”

“Finally.” You burst out, playing with the tips of your hair. “Sick and tired of this boat already.” Chuckling, you glance at him. He's already staring. “So... Bjorn Ironside. What are you doing talking to a Christian? People here don't really seem to be fond of me.”

“The truth is they're trying to figure you out.” Bjorn lowers his voice, and your eyes scan through the men. “Ever since you stood up with your neck exposed to my father's axe.”

It doesn't seem much of a big deal to you. “I just didn't want to die like those other girls. Whining and crying.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sigh. “I mean, I really thought there would be no other way, so I'd face death with some dignity.”

“Don't tell anyone I said this but...” He leans closer until you feel his breath on your ear. “You kinda sounded like a Viking right now.” Then, he stands up and leaves, back to his chores.

You're confused, to say the least, but you guess that was a compliment coming from a Viking himself. Taking a deep breath, you move to where you were, staring at the calming waves.

And Bjorn was right. Eight days after, you're arriving at Kattegat. The many boats stop at the decks, and yours is one of the first. There's a sea of people here, waiting for their loved ones. As you step out of the boat, you don't really know where to go. Everyone is hugging, kissing, telling about the successful raid. You just start walking then, following the flow until you feel someone grabbing your arm. “This way,” Bjorn says, tilting his head at where his father is going. “He wants to introduce you to Aslaug.”

The Queen who hates Christians. Great.

The main hall of Ragnar's house is full. First, he talks to the people, telling them everything they took, everything they found. There's a huge fire in the center, flames reaching high. You're at the corner, half-hidden behind Bjorn's shoulder, eyes flying through the place. You quickly recognize the Queen, seated on a chair beside Ragnar. She's very pretty, dark hair cut off to her shoulders. But she looks... Bored. Very uninterested in this.

By her side, close to the floor, you find a pair of eyes set on you. It takes you by surprise since you weren't expecting anyone to find you among all the people. But he did. Ragnar told you a little about him. His youngest son, Ivar, the Boneless. The cripple. It's not hard to recognize him, but your eyes don't search for his deformity. They're locked on his face, trying to read it, trying to understand why he won't look away.

Suddenly, everybody standing in front of you moves, creating a passage that leads to the very center of the hall. Glancing at Bjorn, you see when he gestures for you to go. And so you do, stopping only when you're standing before Aslaug. She doesn't seem very happy about it.

“And who this might be?” She asks, taking a sip from her cup.

“This is King Ecbert's daughter, princess (Y/N).” Ragnar answers. “She has some spirit, so I thought she'd make a good friend for you since you too were a princess once.”

“A Viking princess.” She snaps, looking you up and down.

You should probably say something, but what? The woman doesn't like you, and why would she? The big question now is what will happen to you next.

“(Y/N) isn't like the other women,” Bjorn speaks up, and you give him a look. He's pacing around, playing with a knife. “While her maids were sobbing and begging for their lives, she stood before Ragnar, accepting her fate. I've never seen one of their women do anything like that.” You don't get why he's doing this. Probably Ragnar's orders, or something like that. “She even helped with the oars when a storm reached us, after staying on the edge with that crazy ass Floki over there.” He gestures at the man, who loudly giggles.

“And what does this all mean?” Aslaug breathes out, clearly annoyed.

“Why don't you give her a chance, wife?” Ragnar sits back on his chair, taking Aslaug's hand. “Talk to her, see if there's anything in common and if you don't like her, well... I can send her to live with Lagertha.”

“Who's Lagertha?” You mutter, to nobody in particular.

But the name makes Aslaug sigh, and she stands up, putting the cup down. “Fine then. Come with me.”

With no other choice, you follow her inside. But on your way, you walk by Ivar, who's holding a clutch. You try hard no to, but your eyes find him nevertheless. He quickly looks away, and you keep walking, deciding not to give it much thought. He probably despises you like most of the people here.

Aslaug has some slaves prepare you a warm bath. And, much to your dislike, she stays in the room as you take off your clothes and step inside the tub. But it doesn't take long for you to relax as one of the girls starts washing and brushing your hair.

“Did you sleep with my husband?” The question comes with an angry voice, and you're not sure what startles you more. The anger or the question itself.

“Of course not.” She gets on your sight, pacing around.

“Do you want to sleep with my husband?”

Then, it clicks. She thinks Ragnar brought you here because he desires you. And that's a very dangerous thought for a Queen to have. “No, I don't.” Resting both your arms on the edges of the tub, you look up at her. “And even if he wants to sleep with me, I won't accept it. That's not the reason why I'm here.”

“And why are you here, so far from home, little princess?” She doesn't sound like she actually wants to know, but you get the feeling that this time you can actually say the truth. Here, there's no reason to keep it hidden, locked in. You can say how you feel about everything, even the things that could've got you imprisoned or even dead in Wessex.

“I'm willing to tell you if you're willing to listen, Queen Aslaug.”

At first, there's silence. But then, Aslaug drags a chair, placing it near the tub before sitting down. “Well, since I have nothing better to do at the moment, let's hear it.”

×

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @midnightmystic

#ivar the boneless imagine #ivar imagine #imagine ivar #ivar vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings x reader #imagine vikings #vikings imagine #bjorn imagine #Bjorn x reader #ivar fanfiction #ivar the boneless fanfiction #Vikings #vikings fanfiction