#I will now sit back & await my accolades

[toptierteaser]

Dessert Island

A weight gain story by Top Tier Teaser

Synopsis: Wilbur Peck, a young scholar of nutrition and anthropology is recruited by a wealthy sugar mogul to uncover a mystery on one of his islands. Set in the late 1930s, this story details Mr. Peck's journal entries as he is recruited and dispatched to the island, where he finds a "local curse" is causing the employees of the mogul to gain weight at a rapid rate. Now, Mr. Peck must race against time--and his own appetite--as his own waistline begins to expand. If he is to escape the island and retain even a shred of his fitness, he must discover what is happening to the once-fit workers and locals on the island so he can stop the curse from wrecking his own body with obesity.

Entry One: May 31st, 1936

The Plump Visitor

                He approached me in my office. The recruiter. On my final day of the semester.

                One might think that the personal assistant to such a wealthy and renowned mogul of one of the nation’s most prolific sugar plantations would have more consideration than to interrupt a scholar at work, especially when his time was in such short supply. But, of course, the man in question so obviously lacked in self-awareness. Why should he consider the importance of my work?

                So, there I was, sitting at my desk, a pastime which I rarely take, usually opting to pace as I did my reading. I have seen other students in my position who have “gone the American way;” young men who would otherwise be handsome and fit, who had indulged too much and sat too for too long and who had accumulated that unfortunate band of fat around the middle.

                I would not consider myself a vain man, but others prized my looks. I hardly saw the merit, being far more focused on my recent scholastic accolades that the university had awarded me, but it seemed to draw in the attention of our scholars. Fresh men and women alike who ogled at me as I lectured or wrote on the board or even took a brief pause to lounge back as the professor took the reins. At first, I had found it off-putting, but I had learned to use it to my advantage, keeping my nails trimmed, my hair crisp and cut, using its reddish summer glow to my advantage. Where some professors would struggle to maintain the attention of a class for more than twenty minutes, I was able to wrap these fresh new minds around even the most boring of subjects, so long as I remembered to flick my hair out of my eyes (and to keep my spectacles tucked away in my back pocket) from time to time.

                But it was the end of the year. The students had packed and retreated to their summer homes, the coast, the less fortunate had gone back to their slums and farms to await the return of school. And I had taken time to hole up at my pocket of an office, just outside the library. It was more of a closet, really, cramped and—thanks to me—packed with books on anthropology and plantae and the history of human nature. But it had a window and even a radio and its proximity to the books next door made the place irrefutable to me.

                So I took the time that I never had, sitting on the hard wooden chair, flickering through pages. I knew I could only take as many books as I could pack and I still needed a suitcase for clothes. So I was rifling through the pages, taking notes and logging chapters I would return to next autumn, when I heard the knock.

                “Come in!” I called, expecting it to be Professor Remora, with next semester’s schedules. He had been attending multiple hearings in front of the board, hoping to get me my own class soon. The university valued my research and they valued my brain even more. And of course, it helped to have a professor who was nice to look like. If he was here, it was to share information that I already knew. So I didn’t bother to give the door more than a cursory glance, noting the warped shadow against the frosted glass, before returning my eyes to my texts.

                The knob rattled as the intruder opened it. I could hear the floorboards give a strong creak. Silently, I cursed the professor. Didn’t he know my time was limited? Didn’t he want me to get a head start on my research over the summer break? And since when did Remora have such a heavy tread?

                I fought to keep my attention on the pages, but the distractions only worsened. I could hear an odd huffing, the sound of struggling whimpers, but still I gazed only at the books. This wasn’t Remora. Perhaps it was a student, a straggler who wanted to get on good terms with me? Well, unless his grades were well above his peers’ I wasn’t in any rush to grant favors, especially anyone who didn’t know better than to disturb my studies.

                “Ah-ahem,” struggled the voice. Unmistakably, it was a young man. No doubt in my mind then that it was a student. “Mr….Mr. Peck, I presume?”

                At last, I dog-eared my research, flicked the paper into a neat stack, and removed my spectacles so as to take in the visitor.

                He was nothing remotely like what I expected.

                I had known the voice was on the younger side. About my age, maybe twenty-three, twenty four. A scholar, like myself. Or a professor’s assistant. Clad neatly in a rundown suit.

                All that was proven true, but as I first looked up, I was stunned by the sight of a big, swollen belly protruding dangerously-close to the trinkets and papers on my desk. The stomach was taught, clad in fabric that was being stretched nearly past its limits. I had seen fat men before, of course, but very few so young. Very few who should have been in their prime. And frankly, very few of the fat men I had seen would otherwise have been so handsome and so vibrant. For the head the rest of the chubby body was attached to was actually rather becoming.

                He smiled nervously, his plump cheeks shining in the light. He had innocent brown eyes and dark, well-groomed hair. In fact, everything about the young man was well-groomed, from the short layer of scruff on his still-sharp jaw to the nails on the end of his pudgy fingers, which clung tightly to a briefcase, a jacket draped over his thick arm. The curious nature of this plump man, standing at my desk kept my realization at bay. Was this young man attempting to use his briefcase to hide his body? If so, the thing was too small to cover more than his chest, which I assume now was softened by the additional poundage that covered everything but his head.

                “Can I help you?” I asked in the most measured, polite voice I could manage.

                “Mr. Peck,” the man made his best attempt at a smile before reaching out a plump hand to me. “My name is Jacob Szeroki. My employer is seeking your services for the summer. I hope we haven’t caught you at a bad time.”

                I looked a moment at the man’s hand, using my best Rochester breeding and giving it a shake. I found it to be surprisingly-comfortable, as the man didn’t try to crush my fingers like other men our age. He probably didn’t have the strength. He retracted his hand quickly, planting it firmly at his side.

                “Your employer?” I asked. “My services?” I seemed unable to form a sentence. I resolved to compose myself, straitening my back, clasping my textbook shut. I would not become flustered by a man who so obviously couldn’t control his appetites.

                “Yes, Mr. Peck,” said the flustered man. “My employer, well, Mr. Foster, he’ll want to articulate the mission—I mean, the assignment—himself.” Foster…I knew that name. I was searching my mind for its origin when I noticed the man ogling the lone, wooden chair before my desk. Its use was predominantly reserved for students who hadn’t studied a lick and wanted to blubber to me to change their grade—a fate I had little power to change. But those students were an easy hundred-pounds lighter than the man who stood before me. I feared, if this man were to sit, if the chair would survive.

                “I…I’m sorry Mr. Peck,” stammered the fat man…Jacob Szeroki. He glanced again at the chair. “It was quite a walk through the campus. And I had to stand at the train station for over half an hour! Would you mind if i…?”

                “Please,” I said, meaning anything but. “Make yourself comfortable.”

                Was I evil for wanting to laugh internally? My inner humor was quickly replaced with terror as I watched the man attempt to lower himself into the chair. It was like watching a pig attempt to wriggle from the door of its pen. I must have watched the man’s pathetic attempts to wriggle into the chair for about five minutes. I was mesmerized, I’m embarrassed to say, by the sheer amount

of jiggling his midsection did. His hips and ass were clearly too wide to fit between the arms, and yet, the man was determined. And finally, after much whimpering and apologizing, and far too much creaking of the poor chair, Szeroki was seated.

                He gave a huff, removing his hat from his head and coiffing his hair. Then, from his shirt pocket, he retrieved a handkerchief which he put to good use, patting the sweat that had accumulated over his handsome face.

                At least the face was nice to look at.

                “Oh, I apologize, Mr. Peck,” said the man. I furrowed my brows. “I’m still getting used to all this new…” he glanced down at his body, then at me, as if shocked to see both were there. “Well, never mind. My point,” he gave a scoot, causing the chair to groan painfully. “is that Mr. Foster—my employer if I didn’t mention—has a proposition for you. You don’t have to give a definitive yes until he has explained the assignment. But he is offering…” and then the obese young man did something I was embarrassed to witness. He lifted the little briefcase and propped it up on his belly, which jiggled like jello with the additional weight. Huffing and puffing, he unclasped the edges of the briefcase. “…this in exchange for your visitation. Whether you choose to say ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”

                I leaned in, my embarrassment waning as I surveyed the contents of the briefcase. And inside was more money than I had ever seen at one time. it was enough to cover my rent for the entire summer and to pay for next semester’s tuition. And there would still be enough leftover to upgrade my wardrobe. No more patchy jackets, a new hat, some fresh shoes and ties! Groceries for months! All in exchange if I chose to meet him.

                “All this, just for a meeting?” I asked, befuddled.

                Mr. Szeroki nodded his head, offering the first glimpse of a double chin that I had seen on him. “Yes, Mr. Peck. All this, for a single meeting. Though, I should inform you, the pay would be substantially more if you agree to Mr. Foster’s proposition.”

                I weighed the opportunity.

                “Well, I do have some packing to do. And I have a train to catch tomorrow.”

                “Oh,” said Szeroki, smiling for the first time. “Your apartment is being packed as we speak. And your train tickets were cancelled and rerouted for the day following tomorrow. Should you choose to return home.”

                “And my books,” I glanced down at the desk.

                “Will all be placed in the archives and will be untouched until your return.”

                I looked at the chubby man. “How do I know this isn’t all a hoax?”

                The man smiled slyly. “Mr. Peck. I, using this body…” he jiggled his figure. “crossed several acres of concrete, walked up two flights of stairs, and spent five minutes attempting to fit into this chair. Do you think someone like me would go to this trouble, just for a hoax?”

                By early afternoon, I was dressed and waiting at the airport—a place I never thought I would have the luxury of stepping foot in—in a new hat with two brand-new briefcases. We were nearly ready to fly. Only first, Mr. Jacob Szeroki needed to get himself a snack. “To settle my stomach before the flight,” was his excuse.

#teaser #fatty #chubby #fatass #gay bhm #bhm weight gain #bhm wg #fat belly #feeding kink #gaining weight #adventure #travel

[artistic-writer]

a year gone by

Many of you will know that for the last year or so, I have had very little, if any, fandom contact. I guess I should explain a little bit about what has been going down and what has kept me away.

My account would not let me in: And i am stubborn. So i stopped trying to get in. At the time i felt like the fandom was moving apart and I didn't want top to be apart of the he said she said that came along with it. I have seen a good number of new fandom members emerging, who are kind and loving and thoughtful on the Discord, and have made me want to come back.

Wilf: I got a second dog without realising the consequences of doing so and the impact it would have on my family. Wilf has his share of problems. He is my little ball of anxiety and I have been working through the many issues he has with him, but we are far from there yet. He is nearly 2 now <3

My health is in the tank: I have had several flare ups of my Fibromyalgia in the last few years, and many of them have made it difficult to sit still long enough. As you can imagine, this takes its toll on one's mental health. Yay having an illness that is worsened by inactivity. My nature is a little self destructive and i throw myself into work in order to forget about the pain, and that has led to severe fatigue, which in turn, is not conducive to writing or arting. I am sorry. Also, in April i had a work related accident where i thought i had just sprained my ankle, but as it turns out, i have detatched not one, but two ligaments, so am awaiting the outcome of will i/won't i need an operation? My appointment is in Dec.

I took up a hobby!: For nearly FOUR years I have been on the waiting list, trying to get into a dog sport called Flyball. FINALLY, my local team got back to us and Killian is running through their first course, and will hopefully be offered a place on the team! I have found a group of real human beings who 'get me' and so far, i am loving it!

I got a promotion at work: I am the boss now. for reals. i still cannot believe anyone would put me in charge of a team of people, but here we are. This eats up more of my time but also allows me to have a decent schedule - so should allow for more me time!

I went back to school: Obviously, not content with enough in my life, I enrolled on an Advanced Canine Behaviour Diploma course, for which i have a year to complete. I'm sure i can fit it in...somewhere. Collecting all the letters after my name, innit.

I work two jobs: 48 hrs a week in one job just wasn't enough, clearly. I am currently training with the Institute of Modern Dog Trainers (IMDT) and hope to become a fully accepted member at the satrt of next year. Their values align with everything i do in dog training, and although I currently offer 1-2-1's, classes, and such, I really want accolades that tell people I am the best. I currently work as a dog trainer Fridays, with the odd handstripping and groom thrown in between jobs.

My husband and I are working through some things: We are not actually married but it is easier to tell people we are rather than explain why we are not. We have had a very up-and-down few years, mainly because of miscommunication, but we are working through it because we are each other's soul mates. I would never want anyone else in my corner. maybe @hollyethecurious, but she's just there to hide the bodies. As such, we are making time for each other more, so I'll likely just be around in the evenings or weekends.

#life #about me #now you know

[fight-surrender]

Ya know. Artists on Tumblr get way more love than writers. So to experience what it feels like to be noticed on this hellsite, I decided to take @subparselkies cover rederaw challenge. I have spent approximately 847 hours rendering this masterpiece (ie about 15 minutes) so please feel free to shower me with exhaustive commentary & likes.

#I will now sit back & await my accolades #I can’t wait #the life of a Tumblr artist #oh to be seen #just fuckin around #ily all #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #fanart #rainbow rowell #high art

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You Pt.2

Pt. 1   Pt. 2    Pt.3   Pt.4   Pt.5   Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, arranged marriage plot, kinda royal au, some fighting, secret relationship, angst.

a/n: Here is part 2! I might upload part three tonight. I’m so excited to see where this goes. It seems that the first part is doing pretty good so I might upload them faster. As always requests/asks are open! Just give me little time to get to them. Enjoy! 

Word count: 1.8K

Walking through the town, you felt an inordinate wave of liberation flow through not only you but also through Loki. It felt as if the weight of the world released itself from your shoulders. Confidence and strength soaring through the air. Loki lost his stiffness, his typical carefree nature restored once you became more grounded. 

“See, not so bad, right?”

Shaking your head, a cynical chuckle escaped your throat

“For you maybe. All these eyes on us is kinda gross.”

“It’s only because the most attractive prince has finally decided to show his face.”

You looked at Loki, amusement absent from your face. He laughed, a belly laugh almost. It was a free sound you had yet to hear from him and when you did your face painted your emotions before you had the chance to process them yourself. 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yes, but you, my dear, tolerate it. So who's really at a loss in this situation?”  

“Well, it’s not me.”

“It couldn’t be me Y/N.”

“Looks like we’re both losers then Loki.”

You were approaching the main entrance of the palace and began to wonder if Loki was considering bringing you inside.

“We lost when we fell in love with each other Y/N. Listening to the heart is the most foolish thing one can do and yet here we are. Charging full speed with our eyes closed hoping we don’t trip over anything.”

Guiding you up the steps of the massive golden structure Loki called ‘home’ your nerves struck up again. 

“Seems to make sense that if we’re going full speed, might as well exploit our courtship in the place where you will eventually be spending all your time in. And with all things considered, sneaking you in is...counterproductive, to say the least.”

Exhaling, you brought yourself together and walked in front of Loki. His hand rested on your lower back escorting you inside. Grabbing fabric in your fists, you hiked your dress up a bit making sure you didn’t step on it. Walking through the main threshold, you realized you were worrying for nothing. The halls were massive, the ceiling stretching higher than you ever imagined.

 It would be a miracle if you were to run across someone you knew in a place so vast.

 You looked around in shock at everything you were being hidden from. The thought of it hopefully being yours to share with Loki in freedom and not in constraint was illuminating. One day to not only be openly in love with him but to call him your husband. Your partner for life was the solace you needed. Everything looked new to you because you had only ever seen the hallways in the dead of night to share evening visits with Loki, being as slick as one could, and it always working in your favor.

“Wow, it looks so different here with the sun shining through. Always felt like a runaway sneaking through the backways and balconies to get to your quarters.”

“And now you get to walk there like every other person in this place. Quite fancy isn’t it.”

“Okay, I didn’t ask for the smart mouth, you ass.” 

“Comfortable, are we?” 

“With you? Always.”

Finally, you two had walked up to Loki’s quarters. Opening the doors he welcomed you in and you welcomed yourself to his bed. Flopping down on the edge of it, the edge of your dress flying up and you went down. Hearing the door shut, you lifted your head up to face Loki at the door, only thing was he wasn’t there. Furrowing your brow you sat up on your elbows and by the time you looked behind you, it was too late. 

“Boo.”

Your body reacted before you could control your response. Your stomach fell to your ass, eyes widening and a sharp inhale all followed one another before you finally shook off the anxiety and realized that Loki had popped up behind you. 

“You asshole! What if I screamed, huh?”

Loki laughed falling over on the bed, your reaction to him obviously something of hilarity to him. You rolled your eyes and pushed his shoulder in and began to pout. He caught his breath and calmed down enough so he could respond back to you. 

“You’re only screaming for one thing and unfortunately, darling, the sun’s still out. So, someone will have to wait, considering they’re so concerned about being caught.”

Loki raised his eyebrow and your mouth was agape. You squinted your eyes and an idea popped in your head. Rolling over on your knee you placed yourself on top of Loki's lap, resting your hands on his chest stealing his smirk for this moment in time.

“I can control myself...you on the other hand, once you start you can't stop.”

To emphasize your point, you rolled your hips into his and brought your body down to level his. Reaching his ear you whispered

“If you can find containment within yourself, a prize will await you this evening.”

You moved from his ear and hovered in front of his face, your lips ghosting one another. You pulled back a little bit to stare into his eyes. They were hypnotic no matter how many times you saw them. Loki’s hand trailed up your backside squeezing the mound of your ass before continuing up your back. His hand finding refuge at the nape of your neck. He pulled you back to his face, a gentleness about the entire interaction, and kissed you. 

There was a different kind of spark in this kiss, it felt electric, coursing through your veins and settling in your brain as a memory you’d never forget. Losing yourself in the thrill of it all, your hips began moving against his. Your building arousal creating a fog between you. The more you ground into the god below you, the more apparent his bulge was. Flipping you on your back Loki now held the reins of the situation. 

“Now, don’t tempt me Y/N. You have a habit of teasing and where does it always leave you?”

“At your mercy.”

“Clever girl. So if you like to save this accolade you mentioned for later, mind your manners, my love.”

He leaned down to kiss you as to punctuate his words, ending the discussion with the pull of your lips between his teeth. Hissing through the pleasure you couldn’t help but roll your hips up towards him, now being the one desperately craving friction. Testing the waters, you wanted to see how far you could push Loki to his limits. Your hand found the scruff of his neck and scrunched his hair. Sucking a breath in between his teeth, he pulled back a light laugh following. 

“I’m aware of what you’re attempting to do Y/N, and I think it would be fair for you to know that it’s a feeble attempt. Reason being, now you’re the one left in ardor.”

Loki pulled off of you but made sure to drive his point home by sliding down your body and resting between your thighs before fully standing up. You lied on the bed in slight agony of your current predicament. You sighed and brought yourself up on your elbows. Looking ahead of you, you saw Loki sitting in the massive throne chair that was in his room. It was gothic in nature yet still regal with the back of the chair rising well up behind him and the arms of it embellished with Asgardian design. 

His position in the chair was more than purposeful. His legs were spread wide, his arm resting on the arm of the throne and his hand propping up his head to look not only at you but out on the balcony. The late evening sun illuminating his eyes, bringing a whole new meaning to golden hour. He looked breathtaking and it was as if you were falling in love with him all over again.

The lust you were previously feeling was now amplified but also accompanied with adoration for your lover. You raised yourself from up off the bed and waltzed over to him. A fire behind your eyes and in your presence but you had yet to act on it. Coming in front of him, you kneeled in front of him and looked up. Two could play at this game. Your hands slid up his legs, paying special attention to his thighs and feather lightly rubbed on this. His eyes were boring through yours and you felt small under his gaze. 

The silence between you was telling, that if you were to continue with your actions there would be no waiting until later. You wanted to enjoy the silence between the two of you, so you turned your back to him now sitting on your behind, and crossed your legs. You leaned your head back so it fell in between his legs, but before fully getting settled you reached for the two books resting on the side table in front of the chair and placed them in your lap. You wiggled your hips and settled into a comfortable position. 

Resting your head back, you craned it further attempting to look at Loki. He rolled his eyes knowing exactly what you were asking for. 

“You know, if I knew how often you’d beg for these I would have never indulged in your initial request.”

“You and I both know this is enjoyable for both parties.”

Loki huffed, a silent agreement without saying explicitly that you were right. Loki began to rub your temples. You closed your eyes enjoying the sensation and the loving intent of his actions. You finally felt calm and safe compared to the rest of the day which was riddled with anxiety and panic and the nagging fear of all the ‘what ifs’ you came up with. You had exhausted yourself and this simple action put you at ease. You opened your eyes for a moment and glanced down at the books in your lap trying to decipher which one was Loki’s. 

Catching a glimpse on the side you realized the one on the bottom was Loki’s current project at hand. Grabbing it, you twisted your arm behind you and slid the book into Loki’s lap knowing that sooner or later you would end up dozing off and you figured that getting this out the way would make it easier for both of you. 

“You are truly something else.”

“And you love me for it Loki.” 

“Can’t argue that one.”

A small smile painted your face before it fell back into its relaxed state and you began to drift off. Every little thing that had happened today made you feel that you were a few steps closer to getting what you so desired with Loki.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #loki fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel x reader #marvel imagine

[ghstandpucks]

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon

A.N.: Hi everyone! So I’ve decided to write a short story with Nathan MacKinnon. Y/N is a figure skater who becomes the Avs’ new skating coach. This chapter basically just sets it up. The title is an ode to my favorite figure skating movie (the only one I can actually watch without rolling my eyes). I myself was a competitive figure skater, so the terms are accurate. 

Also, shout out to @bqstqnbruin​ for allowing me to bounce this idea off of her! If you have not read her stories, I suggest you check them out! Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you all think! 

ch. 1

Prologue 

As your music came to it’s ending note, you popped out of your signature scratch spin and dug your toe pick into the ice, effectively stopping your momentum. With a backward bend and a hand reaching up toward the sky, you tried to catch your breath as you heard the crowd erupt around you. The whole rink was lifted with cheers as you held your pose five more seconds. Three, two, one, you counted to yourself as you straightened up, bringing your hand in the air to your beating heart. This had to be a dream. No way did you execute your routine as flawlessly as you felt. But as you smiled and waved to the crowd, picking up a few thrown bouquets of flowers off the ice as you skated toward your beaming coaches, it all became real.

You sat in the kiss and cry booth with your coaches Erica and Larry as you awaited your final scores. Sitting as properly and calmly as possible, you were freaking out on the inside. But you didn’t show it. You never showed it. As Erica had told you when you were 11 competing at your first junior nationals, the judges were always watching…and they were always judging. Off ice appearance was just as important as on ice performance.

           You held your breath and gripped your coach’s hands tightly as your scores appeared on the board. You were the last skater of the event, the favorite to win. Your placement would be final, and you were already second after the short program. One by one the judges scores showed, and you could not believe your eyes. They were what you needed, and the crowd erupted again as a first place was placed on the screen by your name. You jumped off the bench seat with your coaches and were immediately wrapped in hugs with happy tears streaming down your cheeks.

           Moments later, you were standing on top of the podium with a bouquet in your hands and the United States flag wrapped around your shoulders, a gold medal being placed around your neck. You were smiling so wide your cheeks were hurting. At 20 years old, you were heading toward the end of your single women’s figure skating career and there was no better way then to end it than this. For you, Y/N Y/L/N, were now an Olympic Gold Medalist.

~ ~ ~

           The following year, you skated your last performance at the World Championship, going out with the best routine you had ever skated. Your retirement year was full of gold medals as you went out gracefully on top. Single female figure skating careers were never long. By the time you reached 22 you were considered old and the announcers speculated when your last skate would be. Even at 21, you felt like a veteran senior at competitions. After winning the gold at the Olympics though, you had become America’s sweetheart. Your retirement at 21 was one that had stands filled with fans, family and friends. Everything you had worked for since you were 4, was coming to an end.

           Continuing with skating, you did shows and exhibitions like every recently retired successful skater does. You traveled with Smucker’s Stars on Ice tour, performed at Scott Hamilton’s Friends on Ice, attended galas, spoke at charity events, and even guest hosted competitions. So when the president of the United States Figure Skating association approached you to be a spokesperson and participant for a new program they were rolling out, you jumped at the opportunity to stay on the ice. Ice was comforting, being at a rink felt like home.

           For the skating season of 2020/2021, USFS was partnering with the NHL. Retired skaters who wanted to participate would be assigned to a cooperating NHL team as a new skating coach. The idea was to provide figure skaters with a way to stay on the ice if they did not want to go into coaching figure skating themselves; as well as provide NHL teams with a new skilled pair of eyes, and footwork that could benefit a team’s skating performance. Though figure skaters could be looked at as dainty and fragile, they could turn on a dime, jump on any edge, and take a fall (without pads).

           That was how presently, the Colorado Avalanche were watching a short video on who their new skating coach would be. As soon as the words “Olympic champion” came out of Coach Bednar’s mouth, the team was curious. And as soon as they saw this petite figure skater on the screen, some chuckled that you would be the one to yell at them about their skating. Most were impressed by your routines though. Clean, sharp, and precise your movements were. Not to mention a handful thought you were good looking. One player in particular could not take his eyes away from the screen though, watching you with an intensity he usually reserved for studying game films. Nathan MacKinnon could not deny that he found you attractive, and his heart gave a small flutter when you laughed during an interview in the clip.

           When the video ended and the lights were turned back on, Coach Bednar got the teams attention. “This is Y/N Y/L/N. She will be our new skating coach for the season. USFS and the NHL have struck a deal for the 20/21 season to see how it goes. If it goes well, it will continue. Not only is this girl an amazing figure skater, but when I had the pleasure to met her at the conference, she was intelligent, kind, and well spoken. She is the spokesperson for this new initiative. She was placed with us because as coaches, we chose her. With all her accolades, I do not need to tell you how many other participating teams also tried to acquire her. USFS thought her personality would work best with our staff, as well as all of you. You will treat her with the respect you have for any coach on this team. If I hear a negative word about Coach Y/L/N out of any of you, you will miss the home opener. She is to be taken seriously, and treated with respect. Do I make myself clear?” Bednar asked, and the team nodded their heads and agreed. “Good. She will be here on Monday for summer camp. Have a nice weekend,” he dismissed his team.

           Nate was gathering his things when Gabriel Landeskog clapped him on his shoulder. “This should be interesting,” he spoke with a smile. Nate chuckled and turned toward him.

           “You can say that again,” he said as Tyson Jost joined them as they walked out of the rink.

           “She’s hot,” Tyson said, matter of fact, to which his captain smacked him upside the head.

           “She’s your coach now so behave,” he huffed, though he was laughing. He had seen the way Nate watched the film, and had a feeling that the center was thinking the same thing as Tyson. The younger man rubbed the back of his head dramatically, and said his good byes to his teammates. When it was back to just the two of them, Gabe turned his attention to his alternate captain. “What are you thinking about this figure skater?” he asked in amusement. Nate tried to gather his thoughts. He hadn’t even met the girl and yet the thought of her being at practice tomorrow made his hands clam up. He tried to hid this from his friend as he busied himself finding his car keys.

           “I’m thinking that she’s more decorated than any of us. Five National championships, three World championships, and an Olympic gold medal. I feel very unaccomplished,” he spoke. Gabe chuckled and nodded.

           “I’m sure that���s exactly what your thinking. See you tomorrow Nate,” Gabe said. Leave it to Nate to remember the skater’s stats before he even met them. He was interested to see how this would play out.

#nhl imagine #colorado avalanche #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon imagine #cutting edge #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagines

[whispersafterdusk]

Prompt #24: Illustrious

Theater wasn't something she would call herself an expert of, or even a regular patron -- there was the amphitheater in Gridania that, when she was but a little girl and both her parents still lived, they would watch plays and musical performances during the festivals.  She had heard traveling bards, and seen impromptu "performances" among people who played for the sheer joy of it, stumbling and fumbling along as they laughed and strummed and drummed.

Ishgard's plays were...something else.

Formal, for one.  Very formal.  Everyone had their assigned areas (especially the nobles) and wore their finest clothing, filed in one after another to sit and watch as the performers acted or played their instruments to perfection.

Still.  It was an experience Gaelle found herself enjoying, especially since she was an official guest of Aymeric's and so got to sit at his side in the "box" reserved for his family.  

Today's entertainment was written by...someone.  She'd already forgotten the man's name but he was apparently a famous composer and playwright here in Ishgard; it was an anniversary performance of one of his most popular plays - some sort of fable, from ancient Ishgardian legend.  It was, in a way, a glimpse of Ishgard's past, and Gaelle found the underlying suggestion of history more interesting than the story itself (though the musical accompaniment was quite good as well).

She could tell Aymeric was bored, though -- or at the very least, something else had his attention.  Maybe he had heard this tale enough times?  Or perhaps he couldn't stop thinking of all the work that awaited him...

Gently she inched her hand over to find his own where it rested on his thigh; at her touch he stirred and gave her a warm smile, his attention immediately snapping to the present.  At her questioning look he leaned in close with his lips nearly grazing her ear.

"I am sorry, I do not mean to be so distracted."

"Is everything all right?" she asked, more mouthing it than anything else.

He waited for her to turn her ear back to him.  "All is well.  I have something for you.  I was debating the proper time to present it, is all."

As he straightened she looked at him in surprise - something for her?  She felt her face tinge a bit pink and smiled shyly, turning her attention back to the actors on the stage.  Aymeric turned his hand over and laced his fingers with hers long enough to gently squeeze her hand before returning it to where it had been resting in his lap, and Gaelle pulled her own hand back as well; while there wouldn't be anything wrong, exactly, with their relationship (who in the world would take issue with wooing the Warrior of Light?) they weren't trying to be overt about it -- the less the nobles had to gossip about, the better.

Time marched on and the play finally finished, and the aging playwright came on to the stage to receive his applause and accolades; Aymeric sat back down once the standing ovations were over with, and seemed intent to allow everyone else to file out of the room before he stirred and stood again, offering Gaelle his arm.  As they strolled together toward the exit Aymeric reached into a breast pocket of the coat he wore and removed a small box, offering it to her with a bit of a nervous chuckle.

"For you."

Gaelle opened the box gingerly to see a silver ring set with an emerald resting on a velvet lining.  "Oh..."  She carefully reached for it and admired the cut of the gem.  "It's lovely."  The silver was engraved on either side of the stone, and while the light wasn't bright enough to make out the finer details she thought it looked a lot like his family crest.  "Thank you, Aymeric."

With a slight blush he took the ring from her and slipped it onto her right hand.  "There are...ah..."proper" courting rituals in Ishgard, and while I wouldn't dare ignore your own preferences for those endless rules that dictate things here, I did find myself drawn to the gift giving aspect of it all."  

Gaelle smiled, feeling her own blush deepen.  "I've not really...been given many gifts outside of namesday ones, and certainly never any so beautiful."  She held her hand up and admired the ring against her skin -- jewelry wasn't something she thought about much (mostly because she'd never had the money or "need" for it).  Before she could say anything further there was a bustle of movement off to their right and then the playwright and his entourage came out from a side room, spotted them, and changed direction to head over toward them.

"Ah...yes, yes, Gaelle, our great Warrior of Light, and our Lord Commander," was the playwright's greeting, in his reedy feeble voice.  "I am honored you attended tonight."

"I'm honored to have been invited," Gaelle replied.  "I can honestly say I've never seen or heard anything like your work before.  I hope to have the time to see more of it in the future."

The old man's face broke into a wide grin.  "It brings me such joy to hear someone so young express an interest in the arts.  So young, and such an illustrious hero at that."

Gaelle waved a hand.  "Oh, no no, I'm not- nothing like that, no!  That better describes your own career, not my own."

"You are kind to say so, my Lady. Tell me, do you know much of Ishgard's history of the arts?"

"I'm...afraid not.  There's still a lot about Ishgard I've yet to learn."

"Here, come - let me tell you some of the history." The man gently grabbed her elbow and began to steer her off toward the entrance halls where tapestries hung and statues stood; Gaelle had admired what she could as they'd hurried in to their seats but now it seemed like she was about to get the grand tour.  She glanced over her shoulder to Aymeric who gave her a helpless shrug of the shoulders as he followed in their wake.

By the time she and Aymeric were free to step out into the frigid night Gaelle STILL couldn't remember the man's name.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #aymeric #wol #ishgard

[voice-of-barsoom]

A vignette for @tangleweave

The Jeddak of Helium stared out across the rooftops of her city, ignoring the wine in her glass and possibly the Jedwar sitting across from her. Kantos Kan, admiral, long time adviser, and close confidante of the woman sitting across from him, watched her silhouette in quiet amusement.   "Do my eyes deceive me?  Is that a little smile I see, my Jeddak?" Dejah's lips quirked and she cast an eye towards Kantos. "Your eyes see more than they should sometimes, my friend." "So it is a smile. I do believe it has been more than fifty ords have passed since I last saw such a smile. Dejah Thoris, have you finally met someone?" "Bite your tongue, Jedwar."  That smirk morphed into a proper smile and she looked away again. "I have not 'met someone'." "By the Goddess, I do believe you're lying to me now." "Kantos! I could never lie to you." "And yet here you are, telling me that this," the color of the word 'this' turns golden in his thoughts, "smile of yours is not driven by someone who has touched your heart. You have spent too much time on Jasoom, to think you can deny such a thing.  And to me, of all people.  I am wounded!" "You are insufferable, you know this, don't you?"  Dejah's laughter rung in her words regardless of her denials. "I am missing a certain someone, it's true." Kantos leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hand with a rakish grin. "Who is he?  Or she? I want to know everything." Dejah couldn't keep the smile hidden any longer. "All right, fine."  She reached for the carafe, refilling her wine glass and his.  Her movements are measured and serene, letting him feel the bloom of her thoughts deepen and resonate with the memory of his Mona Lisa smile.  "It's a he." Kantos's eyes widen at the revelation. "A human." "Yes."  She met his gaze for the first time and for the first time since his best friend's passing, he saw none of the grief and sadness, none of the despair that had haunted her for so long.  "He is a warrior of significant metal. Honorable beyond the telling of it.  Soft-spoken. Gentle. As fierce a soul as I have ever known." "Go on."  Kantos prodded, smiling as he watched his friend speak of this person she obviously cared so much for already.  That much is obvious as the more she spoke, the more energetic she became. "He isn't a glory seeker, Kantos.  He appears unassuming, almost harmless, and I tell you, he is anything but. His first instinct is to protect those who cannot protect themselves, or even protect those who do not believe they need protecting. He is fearless in executing his duties. Lethal when he needs to be.  And when he is not..."  Her voice tapered off, and again, her gaze went a little starry-eyed.  "Oh Kantos." "Dejah, finish your sentence."  Kantos chuckled behind his wineglass, sipping as he watched her come undone a little. "He is so kind, so gentle.  Blindingly insightful.  He has this wry sense of humor, and so self-deprecating.  He is the last person to trumpet his victories or accept accolades.  He simply goes about his business, so clear of vision." "I'm sensing a but..." Dejah took a breath, her brow furrowing as she shook her head.  "He is so lonely, Kantos.  Behind his implacable façade, there hides a man who has no family beyond his colleagues, no refuge save for his quarters." "Sounds strangely like someone I know." "Do you remember how attached John became to his thoats?" "Yes.  We thought it strange at first, but now, we treat them with the same respect.  Out of regard for his memory."  Yes, that's it. "He shows that same kindness and attention to all of his people.  Ever single one of them receives a hand on the shoulder, or a full human embrace when they need it most.  I have never seen someone so giving of himself.  And he has been no less with me." "You have embraced him?" "No," she answered quickly, sitting back in her chair.  "No I have not.  Though he does this thing that breaks my heart every time." "What is that?" "Well, I was injured in combat, and while we were waiting for rescue, he -- he reached out his hand and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear." Kantos's eyebrows floated up to the very pinnacle of their range.  "He touched your face?" "Without fear.  Without hesitation. It was just a simple touch, Kantos, but my heart..." "Does he know?  That you're in love with him?" Dejah sat back with a scoff.  "I am not." "More lies." "Kantos, you might be my closest friend but I am still your Jeddak." "Then quit lying to me.  My Jeddak." His lips thinned as he shot her a look. Dejah sagged in her chair, defeated.  There was a reason she kept him around.  "I might be completely head over heels.  Possibly." "You're using their metaphors again." "Shut up, please." Kantos laughed, settling back in his chair.  "You are.  You are in love with him." Dejah couldn't help but laugh as well, still shaking her head, even though she knew it was true. "He is a remarkable person, that is all.  I would be honored to have him as a suitor, should he ever decide that I turn his head."  In a breath, a dark cloud descended over her and the fire he saw in her eyes dimmed.  She settled back in her chair, her eyes closed.   Kantos leaned over and placed a hand on her arm.  "You should tell him." Dejah rested her hand on top of his, grateful for that small connection to reality. "I should. I want to." He sat back in his chair again, his lips pressed in a thin line. He is not good with matters of the heart.  "So.  Why haven't you?"  He could feel her drifting back into her thoughts. It hurt his heart to see, after seeing such life in her.  Whoever this man was, he needed to open his eyes and see the gift the Goddess had given him. "I don't know." She turned the wineglass a quarter turn, her finger running around the rim. "I am afraid he does not feel the same way about me." "If he doesn't, he is an idiot." She looked back to him, a sad smile on her lips now. "Kantos, please. I am grateful for your ire on my behalf, but this is a delicate situation." "Then why are you talking to me about it?" If he cannot make her smile one way, he will try another. "I don't know," she said, glancing back to him, appreciating his effort regardless.  "I suppose I needed your blunt wisdom to advise me." "Tell him.  That is my blunt wisdom for you." Dejah rolled her eyes at him and lifted her glass.  He immediately lifted his own to received her toast. "I shall take it under advisement." "You have been spending too much time among humans. But I understand, he is wary of you still, as is only right.  You are a stranger to him.  Do not be a stranger to him, Dejah.  Let him see your heart.  Let him hear it from your lips.  Be fearless for him.  If he is the man you say he is, he deserves no less." Dejah listened quietly, and nodded.  The silence stretched between them until she finished her wine and stood up.  She gathered her skirts and smoothed her hair. "I should return soon." The Jedwar stood as she rose, not saying that she'd only been home a day.  Some things would not keep and he understood this.  "Your chamber awaits you, my Jeddak.  At your leisure." "Thank you, Kantos. For everything."  Her right hand rested on his right shoulder, and he mirrored the gesture, touching her in respect and affection. "Always, my Jeddak, I am at your service.  Helium is in good hands until you return.  Stay as long as you need to." She nodded and smiled, inhaling a breath.  She had always done what was required of her as Jeddak.  Perhaps it was time for her to do the same for her heart. Perhaps.   For him, she would be fearless.  And nothing she had done in her long life terrified her more. 

FIN @tangleweave, a belated natal day gift for you.  You are such a gift, and I’m so glad I overcame my fear of reaching out to a new rp partner to make your acquaintance.  You have this amazing serene energy about you that is so wonderful to be around. I love your writing, and I adore you. May your coming year be full of all the good things.  You deserve all the good things.  💙💙💙

#ic vignette #npc kantos kan #rp dejah thoris #for phil coulson #{ DEAR UNIVERSE MATT DESERVES ALL THE GOOD THINGS KTHXBYE }

[wheredandylionscometogrow]

Can we please have some kind of fic that includes that infamous “so what’s it like laying in bed with Andrew Lincoln?” Question and Danai and YNB’s reaction. If I wasn’t convinced before (which I was), that did it. Woo!

The Question

“So what’s it like laying in bed with Andrew Lincoln? Cause I’d love to do that myself.” The question echoed amongst the sea of fans in the dark convention hall. Cameras flashed all around and suddenly the stage lights sweltered from beneath the actress’ nearly floor length hot pink trench coat.

The usually contained Danai panicked and belted out a fabricated laugh. The Q&A host, Yvette Nicole Brown threw her chin back in disbelief of the bold question. Danai regretted allowing the question to blindside her. To get into the intimate details of her and her man on set or to deflect the question, these were the options swarming around her brain as she nervously drummed her finger tips against her microphone stem. 

Danai and Yvette’s eyes met silently. Yvette’s eyebrows furrowed in concern and she reached out to Danai’s knee to gauge how she wanted to react. If she wanted to react. If not, she was ready to deflect and come in and save her friend. 

Andy and Danai had only in the past couple months made their relationship public to those closest to them. And even then, there was no official announcement, people were able to infer from their relaxed displays of affection around set and outside of working hours. 

Unsure of Danai’s mood, Yvette asked, “Is this- wait a minute . . . you okay?

Slightly annoyed by the seriousness Yvette was bringing to the moment, Danai pressed for Yvette to stop with her coddling. “YNB, YNB YNB.”

Yvette caught on and sat back in her chair. “Let me stop, she’ll go.” 

Danai laughs hysterically. “I can’t talk about that.” Yvette chuckles, tickled that she knows a secret that none of the hundreds of people in the crowd know. Danai continues, “I don’t know, that’s Michonne, not Danai.” Danai winks and points at the awaiting fan, the crowd instinctually snickered at Danai’s cleverness. 

“That’s why I’m here,” the fan returned.

“I’m sure you are,” Danai mumbled in almost inaudibly as she turned her eyes towards the next fan.

As the initial fan does not move away from the microphone, Yvette is taken aback once again. “Oh, she’s trying to get an answer,” and begins nervously fingering through her index cards, waiting for Danai’s response.”

Exasperated, yet flustered, Danai squeals, “I just told you I’m speaking for Danai right now, Michonne is in Alexandria.” A giant grin masking her cheeks. 

Yvette sings, “Probably in bed right now, nice try.”

----

“You know the craziest question I got today?” Danai’s cheeks began to swell as the moment replayed in her head.

“No, what was it?” Andy smirked as his fork left the salad on his plate to meet his lips.

Danai smiled down into her glass of wine, “I got asked, ‘So what’s it like laying in bed with Andrew Lincoln?’”

Andy paused, propping his left elbow onto the table, his fingers toying with his chin. With an air of disbelief, he slightly shook his head and replied “No you didn’t.”

Danai still looking into the wine glass but more animated, her eyebrows as high as they could reach as she urged on, “Andy… I’m telling you I did. And this woman even had the audacity to add, ‘Cause I’d love to do that myself.” Danai met Andy’s eyes in amusement.

Andy’s mouth was now fully covered by his hand, yet the crinkles at his eyes were a dead giveaway that he found this comical. Andy burst into a guffaw. Danai experienced the brunt of her embarrassment in the packed auditorium earlier. That was a major contrast to the dimly lit restaurant they were sitting in now. The chatter of conversations could be heard from the main dining area, but Andy and Danai were given privacy by the curtained section in the back. 

“You panicked didn’t you.” Andy smiled as he caressed her hand from across the table.

“I wouldn’t say panic Andy, but the question was unexpected, especially so early into the Q&A. But wait!” Danai’s volume increased with excitement, she repeatedly tapped Andy’s hand. “Wait! Yvette was all like ‘you okay, you wanna answer?’”, Danai mimicked in a mothering voice.

Andy snickered, “That sounds like her. You know she only did that because as I said before, you panic when someone asks about us.” 

“I do not,” Danai whined.

“You do.” Andy nodded lightly as he continued eating.

 Danai dramatically sighed, “This is new for me. Not only are you famous, but with all the Black Panther frenzy I’m getting more recognition and people are constantly in my business. Before people would’ve cared less about my whereabouts. The questions were more about the work. Now people want to know what type of socks I’m wearing on set. It’s quite ridiculous. I mean I get it, but goodness. I thought Walking Dead was big but this is a whole new level of pandemonium.” Her head swirled, thinking back to the barrage of trivial questions she received during interviews as of late.

Andy nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. “Everyone wants a piece of Danai.” He moved his hand to casually caress her thigh underneath the table. “Directors, Writers, Fans . . . Do you understand now why I try to seize the moments I’m with you? Whether there’s people around us or not.” Flattered, Danai tilted her head with adoration in her eyes. “Danai, if I waited for the small moments we had, just you and I, I would rarely get any time with you.” Before she could interrupt he continued, “It’s the truth. I don’t blame you for it. I’m happy to see all this success coming your way. You are a marvelous actress and playwright. You are receiving the accolades you deserve.”

If it weren’t for the blush applied to her cheeks, they would’ve shaded themselves a plum hue. “Thank you baby,” she whispered, her anxious thoughts falling onto the soft pillow of his reassuring words. 

Andy looked into her eyes. “Our circumstance right now is not the most pleasurable, so I understand your reservations. But sometimes, I need you to relax darling.”

Danai lowered her shoulders with a deep sigh. “You’re right.”

----

Thank you for this request! Just what I needed. If you want to see the original clip, start it at 2:48.

[charlottewilde]

Adventures Await | Self-Para

Who: Charlotte & Charlotte’s family

When: October 20, 2020

Where: The Wilde Estate (Stowe, Vermont)

What: Charlotte makes a decision as to what finishing school she will be attending with her dad

Warnings: n/a

Charlotte loved being in her father’s home office, the smell of Carlisle’s signature cologne filled the air and as she waited for him to enter she always enjoyed letting her eyes wander over what her dad deemed valuable. Crystal decanters filled with dark liquors, pictures of family through the years in different parts of the world, trophies of different business accolades, a cigar box that was a refurbished family heirloom. The cool leather of the chair she was sitting in kept her alert as she heard his footsteps and she smiled warmly towards him. 

“I think serious talks call for serious drinks,” Carlisle said matter of factly, his daughter gave a nod of agreement. She knew the reason why he had told her to clear her schedule for the night. It was time for her to decide what finishing school she was going to attend. Charlotte sat up a bit more in her chair as he brought out two glasses and poured bourbon in his and whiskey for her, grabbing ice from the small fridge that Kitty and Charlotte had gotten him for his birthday a few years back now. The clink of the ice into her class calmed her nerves and filled the silence. She gave a soft thank you as she took a sip, the fiery drink burning through her throat and down her stomach nicely.

The decision to apply for multiple schools had been the blonde’s idea this past spring. She had felt like it would be good to have more than one option, but surprisingly, the Switch had gotten into all four schools she had applied to. New York City, Boston, Los Angeles, and some place called Grove Key, Florida. Audrey quickly eliminated hers and her husband’s alma mater in New York City as she didn’t want her estranged family looking in on her daughter’s whereabouts. So that left three.

Carlisle had told her to do research on the three schools and present her findings to him. And as she looked down at her papers on his desk, she felt her palms began to sweat, because she knew what school she wanted to go to, but as her father reminded her, this was an investment for him. Her further education would cost a considerable amount, and although he was willing to pay for the school and knew she would take it seriously, he always wanted to educate her on the skill of good arguments and selling your beliefs to others. 

The Switch cleared her throat a bit before looking towards her dad, “I decided on Devereux Academy,” she said as she lifted up her chin a bit, trying to evoke confidence. “I believe it’s the right choice due to their progressive values that align with my core wants, and they also have courses on traditional values so I can see if I would like to incorporate that into a future claim. It is on a really beautiful island, and like you always say, ‘Adventure awaits.’ They also have an outstanding amount of highly acclaimed alumni,” she continued. The last part didn’t matter as much to her, but she knew it would mean something to her father as she started passing him the evidence of their websites and articles she had found online.

The Dominant smiled at his daughter, “Char, do you understand what this means by you going to finishing school? What the expectations are?” The question left a lump in the girl’s throat, and she took another sip to try to make it go away as she nodded. “Yes Sir, it means that ideally I will be in a claim by the time I have graduated, I will have a solid plan for my future, and that I will ultimately be a better Switch because of it.” She hoped that was the right answer and when her dad gave her a nod and said, “Good girl.” Charlotte felt a rush of relief and pride in herself.

“So that means I can respond to my acceptance from Devereux?” She asked with her naturally eager tone, feeling the nerves and fears shed away. When he gave a small nod, he shared his support, knowing that he could count on the same from his Domme wife as well. “Congratulations, duckling.” He said in a softer tone as he held out his glass for her to clink against his.

It was a crisp outside as she ran out the house an hour or so later to give her mother’s submissive the good news, she knew she still had the interview but for now this was still good news. Peter picked her up and twirled her around, and as she hugged him knowing she might not see him for a good while, she felt joyful and hopeful for what adventures might await her at Devereux.

#thread #thread: self-para #devereuxtasks

[raendown]

Surprise @bouncyirwin! You thought the smiles were done? Never! I was commission by the very kind @sarcastic-mommy to give you more fluff! 

Pairing: ShikamaruSakura Word count: 1238 Rated: G Summary: Their journey together had come so far already. He couldn't really blame her for taking a moment to look back at it all.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

The Path Still Winding On

Watching his son nod off in the middle of telling his own story, Shikamaru could only shake his head and chuckle. He could remember what it was like when Shikadai was a newborn and how exhaustingly terrifying those months had been as a first time parent. Now here he was, newly retired from active duty and awaiting the birth of his fourth child’s second daughter any day now. It was hard to believe that so much time had gone by already. 

Several children went stampeding past him and Shikamaru reached out with his shadows to catch one of his granddaughters when she tripped on the way by, setting the girl to rights with a pat on the head even as he looked around for his wife. It wasn’t like her not to be in the very center of the madness. 

There really was no other way to describe the chaos that took over the quiet household every holiday when their four children and the families each of them had grown came together for good food, good conversation, and to reminisce over good memories. Sakura could usually be found in the epicenter of it all, ruling over her brood like she had once commanded the battlefield. All of their children had inherited enough Nara intelligence not to question her orders - or at least they had learned not to at fairly young ages. Some of the grandchildren, however, were still discovering the world and the sharpness of their matriarch’s eyes when displeased. 

Rising from the table made his knees creak and his back ache. Shikamaru huffed about the tribulations of aging even as he nimbly dodged around two little tots having a mock battle in the middle of the kitchen. Just watching how much energy they possessed made him tired - although that really wasn’t anything new, he’d always preferred to be still when the option was there. 

It took a bit of searching in a few unlikely places but he did eventually find his wife. 

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, closing their bedroom door behind himself. Sakura looked up from the babe cradled in her arms and the moment he saw her tears Shikamaru was across the room cradling her face in his palms. 

“Oh stop,” she told him with a wet laugh. “They’re happy tears.” 

“Has your age finally caught up with you then? Senile old woman, making me sniff you out in some dark corner all alone just to find you sobbing over happiness.” 

If not for the precious burden in her arms she would have swatted him for his cheek. She rolled her eyes instead before leaning in to rest her head against his shoulder, gently bouncing their youngest grandchild in the same blanket they had wrapped their firstborn child with the day they brought him home. 

“Rich of you to call me old with that many wrinkles in your face,” Sakura murmured. 

“What’s made you cry, love?”

“I was just watching them all smile and laugh and I started thinking about how thankful I am for everything we have. Then I thought that if I stayed there I might burst in to tears and I just didn’t want anyone to worry, that’s all.” A sigh escaped her but it was a happy sound. “Sometimes I just can’t seem to wrap my head around it all. One day I was only a little girl with nothing but decent chakra control and a brain too big for her muscles to keep up with. Then it feels like I turned around and I’ve got a husband, four children, more grandchildren than I can keep up with, and one of the boys down the road asks me to tell him stories of the days when I was a war hero. A hero! Me!”

“You’re certainly my hero,” Shikamaru told her. 

Her first instinct was to laugh because of course a woman with as many accolades as his wife would never see them as anything to celebrate. She had always been the type to carry duty and honor as though they were no more than her due to the world. It didn’t matter how many years had passed or how much self-confidence she gained, Sakura would never look in to a mirror and see the guiding star that so many others saw her as. It was part of her charm.

“Quit trying to butter me up and hand me that bottle. This one’s about to start fussing.” 

The words were hardly out of her mouth when the babe kicked out with one little foot and opened his mouth to loose a hungry squall. Shikamaru could only shake his head, doing as she asked. 

“It’s like you’re in his head,” he remarked. She only shrugged. “You’re sure that you’re alright?”

“Yes, I’m just fine. What do you think, should we have another one?” Sakura looked up at him with a cheeky smile. They both knew she was long past the age of bearing another child but still Shikamaru couldn’t help the gentle thud inside his chest.

With every year that passed their family grew larger and larger, with every child born their hearts grew fuller and fuller, and he couldn’t imagine having lived this life with anyone but her. 

“How about we get another cat instead?” he suggested, trying to ignore the way his words came out choked with emotion. 

“A lovely idea. If you’re very nice to me I might even let you pick the name.”

“Michio if it’s a boy.”

Such a quick answer startled his wife, earning him a pair of wide blinking eyes that quickly watered and began spilling down her cheeks again. With both hands occupied Sakura had nothing to hide her face behind but that was alright; Shikamaru had wiped her tears before and he would continue to do so until the day he could no longer lift his hands. And then he would kiss them away. 

With her face cradled between his palms Shikamaru leaned in to press their foreheads together. “Would you like to stay in here for a few more minutes?” 

“I think that’s best,” Sakura answered in a wavering voice. “Thank you, Shika. Thank you for this life we’ve had.”

“Hey now, we’re still kicking. There’s still a lot of life for us to live. Naps to take and all that. Now come on, let’s sit you down over there, you can feed the baby and we can just stay in here until someone comes looking, alright?”

Sakura nodded without saying anything but she was wearing a smile as he led her over to sit on the bed, making a show of grumbling when his knees creaked again just to hear her quiet laughter. It was silly, he thought, for her to be thanking him when he was the one who could be nothing but grateful. Everything he had in this world, every happiness and every triumph, he owed it all to the beautiful woman at his side. After all these years together he still fell more and more in love each day he woke to hear her humming away in the next room with her morning tea, patiently waiting for a lazy man who didn’t deserve her to wake up and face the next step of their journey together. 

Maybe someday he could make her understand what an honor it had been to take this journey with her. 

#rae writes #commission #shikasaku #shikamaru #sakura #fanfiction

[sacredbyparkinson]

Who: Pansy & @magicterrence​

Where: The Parkinson Family Manor

When: Flashback circa 2014

Sometimes coming home to visit her father felt like stepping backward in time. Pansy sat at the vanity in her childhood bedroom putting the finishing touches on her hair while she waited for a house-elf to call her down for dinner the same as she had so many times as a young girl. Once called she would make her way through the halls to face her father’s seemingly endless fount of unmet expectations as they put on a show of being a proper family unit often with a rotating cast of guests playing extras in their subdued little drama. To most, her father did not appear to be a man who was hard to please. He readily handed out winning smiles and friendly accolades to those who pleased him in some small way - often by backing up his position or offering him a fine bottle of some spirit or another anything would do really although scotch was his preference. But then most people were not painted with the brush of bitterness that accompanied the mounting disappointment he felt when he considered his own family - from his spendthrift father to his shiftless brother to his late wife who had failed to provide him the proper heir he had so longed for- nor did most people carry the weight of expectations he had placed on his daughter who was, sadly in his estimation, the last chance the Parkinson family had left. 

Still, for all that stood immutable there was much that had changed in the years since Pansy had abandoned her once home for greener pastures - including most importantly Pansy herself. She was no longer a little girl struggling under the weight of her family’s dying legacy, she was a woman who had taken it into her own hands and spun it into gold. She knew that, knew that she had done more to build the family fortune up in the past decade than her father had managed in the whole of his life, but there was still the matter of remembering her current position when her father’s gaze fell on her full of that old familiar disappointment. It could be done and done well, Pansy was of the mind that just about anything was possible if one truly set their mind to it, but that did not make the effort to do so any less draining. 

Pansy finished the last of her adjustments ensuring every hair fell in its proper place before refreshing the bold layer of blood-red war paint that colored her lips and rose in time to meet the elf at her door and sweep by them down to meet her father at the base of the stairs. William greeted her with a smile that might have been warm if not for the accompanying measuring glint that rarely left his eyes in her presence,” Pansy my darling daughter don’t you look lovely! Come now we have a little time before dinner is to be served and I want you to meet one of my guests from work.” Her father ushered her around the corner into one of the formal sitting rooms off of the main dining hall where an intimate number of guests awaited them. Pansy swiped a glass of red wine from an elf who was circulating the room with a variety such refreshments and followed her father as he wound his way through the room pausing here and there to make amiable introductions.

“Ah, there he is,” William announced as they drew close to a dark-haired man who appeared to be perusing one of the bookshelves near the fireplace, “Terrence I am so pleased you could make it, I wanted to take the opportunity to introduce my daughter Pansy. She’s home visiting after spending some time in France. Pansy darling this is Terrence he’s just come over to the Ministry from MACUSA but I can already tell he’s going to be quite the rising star in our department...” Her father’s words droned on faintly in her ear as Pansy raised her eyes to meet another pair of blue centered in a somewhat unfortunately familiar face that she had not been expecting to see again let alone under these circumstances. Nevertheless, she maintained the polite smile she’d affected upon her entry into the room and offered her hand. 

“Terrence is it? How lovely to meet you, my father speaks so highly of your talents.” 

#Soooo much set up for so little action I'm so sorry #opp: Terrence #Para: 'Second' introductions #date: circa 2014 #location: Parkinson Manor #with: magicterrence #def no need to match length ideally this will pan out into some snappier replies between them as the dinner party progresses #but anything works I'm so excited for this 😅

[queakenstein]

You , miss , are by far my favorite zelink writer ever. I have 2 requests for ya... ugh I need to stop being greedy XD it’s fine if you do one. - Link getting Impa’s approval for courting Zelda - Drunk Link spilling his feelings for Zelda to everyone who can hear.

Thank you so much!!

Hope ya like!

He knew from experience that he really shouldn’t challenge a Gerudo to a drinking match. However, Link was not the type of man to back down from a difficult task. The woman, a dignitary from the desert region, slaps him on the back and laughs. “I’s alright, ya can stop now.” Her words are slurred and her fingers rest, lazily, on her small glass. She’s turned it upside down. A classic sign of defeat.

Link grins. His blue eyes sparkling with assured victory and blows his bangs away from his face. He snaps his own drink to his lips and takes the shot with as much grace as he can given he can’t quite remember what number he’s at. “Do ya give?”

She snorts, raises her hands and nods. “ ‘M callin’ it quits.” She latches on to a passing guards arm and points in a general direction of the guest rooms. “Help a lady, would ya?” The man raises a questioning look at Link who waves him off with a smirk. The Gerudo throws an arm around his shoulders and leans against the man like crutch. “G’night.”

“Night.” The Hero stands and keeps to the walls. It’s safer that way especially since he knows straight lines are dangerous right now. Eventually, he finds the woman he’s looking for. Back rigid and red eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of disturbance. She should know that few would dare to attack the castle with some of the country’s strongest warriors present. He can appreciate her vigilance. She’s the only reason he was able to let himself loose.

“You won.” She glances at him from the corner of her eye. Her lips hold some small trace of amusement. “Impressive.” He notes that she doesn’t sound impressed.

He ignores her tone and steadies himself by leaning back against the wall. He watches the crowd with her for a moment. Sages, nobles, great knights and famed heroes all move about the celebration. No one is treated any better than the others. Tonight is a night to enjoy the peace brought forth by all the hard work each of these individuals have done. Either by pen or sword. This was the third annual gala created by Princess Zelda. Link smiles at the thought of her.

“This is the third time you’ve refused to accept any honor or award.” Impa takes a step back so that she stands a bit closer to him. “Why do you refuse?”

Link shrugs. He’s dizzy and all the colors are honestly making him sick. “Uh.” He swallows and tries to carefully scan the area for anything he could safely vomit in. “I don’t…” He stops and decides standing is making all of it worse and let’s his body slide down until he sits on the floor. “I didn’t do it for medals.”

“As chivalrous as that sounds, it would not hurt to receive some accolade.” Impa either pulls on of her shadow walking stunts or his eyes close for longer than he thought. Either way, Link finds a piece of bread in his hand. She’s crouched before him and peering into his eyes. “She would, happily, give you any thing you would desire.”Her eyes squint. “Land. Gold, A title.”

He doesn’t like this interrogation nor the fact that she’s using his inebriated state to gain some sort of leverage or answers. Rather than spit the foul mouthed retort gathering on his tongue, he merely chomps a large piece off the bread and munches, angrily, at her. They sit there in a silence while he contemplates her queries. The titles and land would do him well. Gold would not be a bad prize either. He falls asleep for a time but wakes up feeling less dizzy but knows he isn’t sober. Impa stands guard next time him. “How long’ve I been out?”

“Two hours.”

“Shit.” The wall, ever his friend, helps him to stand. “That’s embarrassing.”

“You snore.”

He flinches. “Yer jokin’?”

“Not in the slightest.” Impa turns to points at the bread in his hand with a nod of her chin. “You should eat more.”

“Fine but this needs something.” He moves toward the table where a majority of the food has thinned out. He’s a little surprised to see that the party hasn’t dwindled much considering it is getting in the early hours of morning. A brief scan of the room reveals no trace of Zelda. He tries not to think about the possibility of her being swept off into a more private setting. A slice of cheese, butter and with an apple in hand, Link returns to Impa’s post. He drags a chair away from a table and sits next to her. “Thanks.”

“For?”

“The bread… earlier.”

She shrugs and makes no further comment for several minutes. “Who were you looking for?”

“You stalking me?” He asks, frowning. 

“Merely noticed is all.” 

Link sighs and answers her with exasperation. “Zelda.” He takes a bite out of the apple and makes a noise of delight before he continues. “She mentioned she wanted to dance.” He makes quick work of the fruit and starts on the cheese. “Why so many questions?”

“I’m bored and you’re the only one around… and you intrigue me.”

“How?” He rolls his eyes. “I’m not exactly a puzzle.”

“You say that yet none of your actions seem to add up.” She turns to meet his gaze and he feels very dizzy again. “You waged a war with a Evil reincarnated to fight for the peaceful life you had before. Yet, do not return to. So, perhaps it is knighthood that you long for but you refuse to accept any offer of ranks. Gold seems not to appeal to you nor does any lordly right or land…” She glares. “Still, you remain close by and accepted one final job offer… that of personal guard to the Princess herself.”

Link meets her stare and smirks. “You don’t trust me.”

She frowns and the hardness he sees softens some. “Wrong. I trust you.” Her admission shocks him but she doesn’t acknowledge the expression he makes. “The point that I would like to make is… If you are waiting for a sign, for some sort of permission, or approval then you have it.” Impa spares him one, small, sliver of a smile. “We have many ghosts that walk these halls. All of them filled with regret. Do not make that same mistake.” She turns away from him. “She pressures you to take all of her gifts because she thinks you are unhappy… but, also, because it might make the process easier.”

Link’s brain misfires for a brief second before he stands, quickly, and causes his chair to topple with a clatter. “Easier?” His voice is a little louder than he expects so he clears his throat. “Are you telling me… that she’s…?”

Impa nods. “Are you not in love with her?”

“I-I–” He knows he’s losing composure. He’s still to drunk to deal with this. There’s too many people but calculated steps are far from his mind. “Of course, I do but– It’s— Complicated.”

“You make it so.”

Link shakes his head and growls with frustration. “No. The fact that she is a Princess and I’m just some man with a sword makes that complicated.” Link’s voice is a harsh whisper and he moves to stand in front of her. Talking to the Sheikah’s back is making the situation all the more uncomfortable. 

“You slaughtered Ganon.” Her face is impassive and her voice resumes it’s unimpressed tone from earlier in the night. “You are the one making this complicated.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and can feel a headache coming on. His voice rises but he’s too worked up to notice. His heart is pounding and he’s sweating. He can’t understand why he’s sweating. All he knows is that Zelda is in love with him and, apparently, it’s his fault that they aren’t…married? Courting? He shakes his head and settles on together. “You’re telling me…” He ignores the way that Impa’s eyebrows rise. “That I… could just waltz up to Zelda.” He takes a deep breath. Air. Air is hard. “Princess Zelda. Who, by all rights, is Queen.” His gestures are wild and his legs have begun to pace. “A-And just tell her that… what? I love you?! And she would be okay with it?!”

He realizes his mistake when he recognizes the voice bouncing back at him is his own. Impa’s mouth is open slightly and she holds the first truly shocked expression Link has ever seen… There’s a small voice in the back of his head that tells him if he just drops to the floor hard enough that he would probably knock himself out and spares himself a few hours of whatever the hell awaits him behind his back. 

The grand hall is deadly silent. Clearly, one’s drunk love confession to your regent who may or may not be in the room is serious.Sounds of feet shuffling around reaches his ears as Link glares at Impa and half-scream, half-whispers to her. “You’re dead to me. Now, I have to go kill myself. Hope you like your ghosts filled with embarrassment too!”

“Now, now.” A soft voice admonishes. He’d recognize it anywhere. He can picture her dressed in the pink gown he saw her in with her pale, blonde locks cascading behind her. Light blue eyes that would peer up at him should he turn around. “You promised a dance and, since you mentioned waltzing, I would like to take you up on it now.”

“Or.” Link swallows. “I could throw myself off the balcony.”

“You’re very drunk.” She giggles and he can’t help the smirk that crawls across his face because he knows she is too. She only giggles like that after drinking too much wine. “Could you make it that far?” Her hand, gloved in silk, reaches out to pull at his. “Dance with me.” He turns to her with just a small tug from her fingers and keeps his eyes to the ground. Zelda steps forward to wrap her arms around him. Her fingers clench his shoulder blades and his arms encircle her shoulders in a tight embrace. He closes his eyes to the many gazes on them and rests his chin on her hair. “Hi.” She giggles and he feels her shift to look up at him.

He musters up the courage to finally look her in the eye and he smiles, ever-so softly. “Hey.”

#queaky writes #legend of zelda #legend of zelda fanfiction #zelink #zelink fanfiction #fanfiction #zelink fluff

[onceafuckup]

To the Fade

+I scrubbed my hand over my face and then stared at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t believe I had to do this today. Hell, any day. This was not how life was supposed to go. We were to have centuries together. A full lifetime, not one cut short by one stupid ass mistake. It should have been me. I should be the one they are sending off into the fade. I couldn’t even look at myself without wanting to be ill. I drew my hand back and punched the mirror, not even feeling it as the glass shards dug into my skin. The mirror splintered, falling down in tiny pieces on to the marble basin. Only enough fragments held on to reflect my mismatched eyes back to me. The curse had come true after all. I should have known better than to expect happiness for long. Hell, it lasted longer than it probably should have. We’d had over twenty seven years together as mates, and a decade or more before that as friends. We had the twins, we had a life. All the things I was never supposed to have. Not if the honor guard had had their way. If my parents had had their way. If they had, perhaps Blay would still be alive, mated to Sax or someone far better. Living his best life possible. I eyed the shards of glass in the sink. One found it’s way between my fingers, hovering my vein…

The door rattled and the glass fell into the sink from my fingers before I spun on my heels. The door rattled again and for a moment, one second of hope in this hell that was now my life, I thought it was Blay telling me to move my ass. He’d had to chase me out of the bathroom to get ready more times than I could count over the last twenty seven plus years. “Qhuinn, son, it’s time.”

The voice that came through wasn’t Blay’s but it was just as familiar to me as his. Rocke was waiting. I couldn’t let them down too. I had to make it through this and then…well, that would be an entirely different story, wouldn’t it. I washed my hands in the sink, then wrapped them in towels to stem the bleeding+ Be right there. Just need to finish up.

+I heard him hesitate, as though he knew, but then he sighed, “I know this is hard, but we’re here for you, Qhuinn. Not just because it’s what he would have wanted, but you’re like a son to us too.” I choked on the sob that threatened and waited until I heard the footsteps fade away before I unwrapped my hands, thankful the bleeding was only superficial, then splashed water over my face once more. I dried off and hung the bloody towel carefully on the rack, then grabbed the white robe from the hook. I tugged it over my shoulders, pulling the hood up over my head and then left the bathroom. Rocke and Lyric were sitting in the wingback chairs opposite the bed. Rocke looked stoic as usually but Lyric, she was a mess. Not that I blamed her. Her eyes were puffed and red rimmed and she had given up any pretense of wearing make up for this day. She gave me a watery smile and dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, “Everyone is already downstairs, but we wanted to wait for you. Are you certain you don’t mind us keeping his ashes?” I shook my head, my words stilted as I tried to get them out+ You should have them, it’s what he would want.

+That was the crux of it all, what he would want. I had to continue to put one foot in front of the other because that’s what he would want. I had to do the ceremony here because that’s what he would want. I had to pretend I was fucking stronger than I felt, because that’s what he would want. It didn’t matter that I wanted to crawl out into the sun to join him. It didn’t matter that I wanted to run away and hide. It didn’t matter that I wanted to tell everyone to take their platitudes and sympathy and shove it right up their fucking asses. It didn’t matter that I wanted my fucking hellren by my side where he belonged. What I wanted didn’t matter a damn bit anymore. Lyric pushed from the chair and came over to me, wrapping her arms around my midsection as she let out another tearful sob against my chest, “He loved you, Qhuinn, more than anything. Thank you for loving him in return.”

My arms wrapped around her for a moment, then Rocke joined in, squeezing us both. There were no more words. There didn’t need to be. Not at this moment. If I held on a little longer than solely necessary, I could hardly be blamed. A discrete knock came to the door and we broke apart, each of us dabbing our eyes. Fritz called out, asking if we needed anything. We declined and told him we were on our way. That was the cue. There was no turning back. Not now. Rocke and Lyric led the way, their white clothing nearly blinding me through my watery eyes. Everything was so bright and not all at the same time. They didn’t have to dress as they did, but they wanted to honor Blay the way the rest of the Brotherhood would. Everyone else would be wearing white and each Brother would be in a hooded robe. So similar to our mating ceremony yet so different at the same time.

Candles flickered as we made our way down the grand staircase and I nearly tripped over myself when I saw the crowd that awaited. Every Brother, every shellan, each young and their mates, trainees, glymera…the large hall was packed with those who loved and came to honor my hellren. The doggen must have been shuttling people in for hours. Because this obviously wasn’t going to be hard enough to deal with. The crowd parted like the sea for Lyric and Rocke, allowing them to take the chairs towards the front of the room near their grandchildren. JM stood up front with Wrath, the Brothers standing in a semicircle around them, heads bowed. There was nothing left in me to shatter at the sight before me, or so I thought. Off to the right was a pedestal displaying a blown up photo of Blay, then next to it one of our little family of four, the opposite side of the aisle was another photo, this time including Layla and Xcor in our family, and then finally one with Rocke and Lyric in it as well. Each one Blay was smiling like he’d won the fucking jackpot. I wondered if he knew his future if he would have run the other way. It was too late now though, for us both.

Time slowed as I made it those last few steps towards the front of the crowd. My robe fell to the ground and I dropped to my knees before my King and my best friend. My head bowed immediately and I placed my hands outstretched before me. The room was silent, which was surprising for the amount of people filling the space. Wrath didn’t even have to tell everyone to shut the fuck up before he started. I’m sure that disappointed him. I knew he liked to command. A hysterical laugh threatened to bubble up at the thought and I barely managed to tamper it down before he spoke. He spouted on about Blay’s accolades, how he was a stand up male of worth, one who would help anyone and everyone should they need it, how he helped raise two amazing trainees…on and on he went. His voice faded out in my head as I replayed my own memories and thoughts. I didn’t want to or need to hear someone else prattle on about my hellren or about how we never know what’s coming or how he will be blessed in the fade or any of that other bullshit. I knew it all by heart. Anyone who knew Blay knew he deserved the platitudes and that his blessings, if the fade truly existed as we believed, would be bountiful. It was selfish of me to even think of denying him that too. No, we had to deal. Wrath finished and then called for each Brother to step up to the alter. Each bother had their arms sliced by the ceremonial dagger and they bled into the large silver bowl of salt that waited there. Their blood symbolizing that we all hurt and all bleed with each loss. When each had bled, JM had poured the water into the bowl and gave it a good mix.

I lifted my head then, just slightly to watch as JM then grabbed the ceremonial brand from the fire. He looked as though he were carrying that extra weight on his shoulders and that last sliver of my heart hit the bottom of my stomach. He walked behind me and settled a hand on my shoulder while Wrath did the honors of speaking for him. The blind and the mute…yeah, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Wrath tipped his head towards where I was, his voice clear and deep, “What is the name of your dead?” I signed and whispered out Blay’s name. I barely remembered not to flinch when the branding iron bore into that first letter on my back. Wrath asked again, his voice slightly louder “What is the name of your dead?” My voice cracked as I spoke out his name once more. The brand hit my skin, the flesh sizzled and I still managed to remain steady. Each letter was followed by Wrath asking once more, “What is the name of your dead?” Blay’s name left my lips a little easier, and a little louder, with each turn until I was screaming his name with every ounce of energy I had in me. My tears fell now as the branding iron struck my back, covering up his name. I heard the sniffles behind me, barely background noise but there nonetheless. It came time for the final lettering I felt JM shift behind me as a new body..no, two new bodies approached. This time it wasn’t Wrath who spoke, but the joined voices of my children, “What is the name of your dead?” Each one had settled a single hand on each shoulder when I bellowed out his name, shaking to the very foundation of my being. The candles flickered and together my children pressed the brand into the K on my edge of my shoulder, searing the skin. JM, or someone, took the branding iron and both kids gave my shoulder a squeeze, whispering their love before they went back to their chairs.

JM came back with the silver bowl and a cloth. He poured the bloody salt water over my back, sealing off the wounds and forever tarnishing my skin. It burned so much deeper than the surface. I felt it throughout my entire body. The wound was sealed and my memories were forever locked in me. JM took the cloth and wiped down my back before he folded it up and handed it to Wrath. Wrath placed it in a small wooden box that held a small vial of Blay’s ashes, then stepped in front of me. I lowered my head and held out my hands towards him, “Blaylock was not a brother in arms, but our Brother none the less, we all feel his loss deeply.” He handed me the box and settled his hand on my head for the briefest of moments before stepping away. He then turned and gave another nearly identical box to Lyric and Rocke before addressing the crowd once more, “There will be food in the dining hall for anyone who wishes to remain and share stories of Blaylock, otherwise, the doggen can return you to your vehicles.”

Wrath was leading people out, giving me this moment to myself. Or mostly to myself. I felt the presence of others but I didn’t turn to look at who remained. I held the small box in my hands, all I would have left of him and as I closed the lid, I felt that snap in my brain that closed everything else off. That cold hollowness had returned and that’s what I had left to cling to. I felt my robe drape over me and whispered a thank you to my daughter before telling her to join her grandparents and that I would be there soon. I wouldn’t be, but she didn’t need to know that. The rest of those remaining cleared out over time and only then did I push to my feet. I heard the voices and the muted laughter and turned the other way. I stopped briefly in the game room to grab a few bottles from the bar, and then after dropping off the box in my room and changing into leathers and a tee, I slipped out into the night, bottles in hand+

#QhuinnsSL #onceafuckup roleplay

[therealcalicali]

REPOST FOR @TEPHI101 (Ivar, I Have Something To Tell You.” Part 3)

SINCE THE APP IS ACTING UP, YET AGAIN, THIS IS A CUT AND PASTE POSTING  FOR MY GIRL @tephi101  (she inspired the damn series and can’t even read it thanks to this wonky #$^%!* app!) FIX THE ISSUES TUMBLR!!!!!

Hopefully, anyone whose app is not acting up, should be able to read the fully illustrated post here: 

“IVAR I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU.” PART 3

_______________

PART 3 WARNINGS: Character Death, Murder, Threats, Violence, Domestic Violence, Angst, Cheating, Sex and Fluff

_______________

You were carried back home from the docks after hearing Ivar gloat about Harald sailing off to Wessex. It was as if in an instant, all your of strength was drained from your body and you felt sick to your stomach. Truly, you had nearly vomited due to how shocked you were at the revelation. When your legs went weak, you were very fortunate that Halfdan was standing nearby. The strong warrior was the one who caught you in his arms as you fainted. Your husband merely watched as his friend did his best to awaken you, almost mocking your reaction. When your eyes had finally fluttered open, Ivar cocked his head to the side and smiled - as if trying to decide whether to laugh maniacally or to just keep things smug. He chose the latter.

Though a concerned Halfdan asked if they should escort you back home, your husband insisted that it wasn’t necessary. He commanded some thralls to carry you back to the estate whilst he remained with his friends at the docks; watching the sunset over the ocean. Indeed, Ivar was a delighted and content man - looking ever so forward to his sweet, sweet revenge.

_________________

As you laid in bed the following evening, you stared at the ceiling still numb from Ivar’s revelation. Wessex! The way the words rolled of his tongue along with his smug smile made you sick to your stomach again. If you had the ability, you would have done anything to prevent Harald from departing Kattegat, but alas he was long gone. Now that it was evening, Ivar was busy entertaining guests at the lavish feast he had decided to throw at the last minute. In his Great Hall, he was happily celebrating his victory over you and your lover. Truly, you had never seen Ivar this genuinely happy in a long while. The only time he had been in such a good mood was when Bjorn had given him permission to marry you. Ivar’s smile had not left his face since Harald’s ship had departed. And it wasn’t the sinister smile as he typically displayed, he was TRULY happy.

As you lay on top of the furs, you clutched a silver cross that once hung form your neck - given to you by your Grandmother long ago. Ivar had forbid you to wear it any longer so you kept in hidden from him. You were determined to pray as many prayers as you could for sweet Herry. If God felt you were contrite enough and accepted your plea, perhaps he would save him by miracle.

___________

“Elizabeth. Come here a moment.” A tipsy Ivar beckoned to your little sister as she and a friend passed by his throne.

As she went to place her foot on the steps, Ivar motioned with his hand to one of the thralls who was beside him.

“You idiot! Do you not see she is with child?” He hissed as he furrowed his brow. “Help her before I toss you into the streets!”

The thrall apologized profusely as she rushed over to your sister and helped her up the steps that led to Ivar’s seat. As soon as Elizabeth was standing in front of  him, Ivar angrily motioned for the thrall to get out of his presence. Turning back to your sister, he quickly softened his expression. She was truly glowing and radiated joy in both her mannerisms and expression. Her dainty hands were gently rested on her round belly as she smiled back at Ivar.

“Are you in need of something brother?” Elizabeth asked in her usual innocent manner.

“There is no need to be so far away. You are free to come closer.” Your husband beckoned as he sipped the last drops from his horn.

As he raised his hand for more mead, your sister obeyed his request. She went and stood directly in front of Ivar - as he brushed off the thrall who had finished pouring him more drink. He looked at Elizabeth and eyed her with fascination. The manner in which her petite frame now boasted heaving breasts, curves and a rounded belly, intrigued him. Indeed, Ivar thought for her to endure all these changes just to bear a child for Jonah, meant she truly loved him. Why could you not behave as she did…..Ivar pondered. Your sister always seemed accommodating to her husband and now, was giving him the ultimate gift.

Ivar stopped drinking his mead and reached out towards Elizabeth’s belly. Realizing that he wanted to feel the baby, she smiled and gently took his hand in hers. When she placed his palm on her stomach, Ivar’s eyes widened in amazement. He caressed her round and firm belly with a smile upon his face.

“It is…..remarkable.” He said as he looked up at her. “So, have they told you much longer you have?”

“Mother and the midwife say it should be five more months or so.” She sighed with a smile. “I must confess that I hope to deliver sooner than later. Being with child can be draining. I am often so tired, that I sleep more than I am awake.” She added with a giggle.

Across the Hall, sitting alone at a corner table, Jonah apprehensively watched as Ivar conversed with his wife. He feared your husband and for good reason. Ivar had the ability of taking even the happiest of occasions and destroying it in an instant with his temper. You brother-in-law hoped that whatever Ivar was speaking to Elizabeth about, would not result in something terrible being said or done. Jonah wasn’t the only person in the Hall eyeing Ivar with disdain. A quiet Hvitserk stole hateful glances at his little brother as well. Ubbe, who was seated next to him, understood why he felt animosity towards the youngest Ragnarsson.

Hvitserk, being a person who often doubted himself, had asked for advice about his desire to be with you. Naturally, Ubbe and Bjorn were the most trustworthy. With the eldest Ragnarsson living very far away, he wound up confessing everything to Ubbe, whom surprisingly, was supportive. He, like anyone else with common sense, could see how horribly Ivar treated you. Despite his constant remarks about ‘loving’ you, his actions seemed to betray his words. Ubbe only asked that Hvitserk be careful but did not discourage him from pursuing you. In fact, he supported the affair since it seemed to be the one thing that would make his brother happy.

Hvitserk sat, angered about Ivar’s plan to have you watch your lover die. Despite feeling jealousy over your lovesick demeanor, Hvitserk didn’t want you to be tormented. He loved you enough to even attempt speaking to Ivar about alternative punishments. Instead of  killing the man, he suggested imprisoning him or sending him off to another kingdom as a mine worker. But it all fell on deaf ears. Ivar was hell bent on destroying your lover in the most brutal manner his dark mind could think of.

“Do you know that soon we shall be able to feel it kick?” Elizabeth said as she held Ivar’s hand over her belly. “I am so looking forward to it….though I hope it does not hurt.”

“I do not think you need to worry. It seems that you and Jonah are very blessed of the Gods.” Ivar replied. “While Y/N is….a constant thorn in my side.”

Ivar looked up your sister and smiled though he was envious. How could Jonah, a man with no power, title or great accolades be expecting a child? Whilst he, Ivar the Boneless, leader of the Great Heathen Army and son of Ragnar, be denied? You! He blamed you of course! Yes, indeed! Ivar knew that somehow, you had caused the Gods to not bless your home with a little one due to your affair. You chose to defile his marital bed and now, the consequences of your actions were being felt.

No matter. Ivar knew how make sure that there was atonement. The blood and flesh of Herry Forester would be food for the Viking Gods.

_____________

It took nearly two weeks, but Harald’s boat was finally spotted in the great distance. The news traveled across Kattegat like the wind and soon, you could hear Ivar’s voice as he gave instructions to his servants and men. There was to be an opulent feast to welcome the great Harald Finehair. As you worked on other household tasks, some thralls came to you with orders from Ivar. You were to ensure that a meal fit for a King awaited his friend in addition to assigning thralls to be at his beck and call. Truly, Ivar was sparing no expense in making Harald feel both missed and appreciated.

As you went about giving orders to the thralls and servants, you felt weak. You also developed a massive pain within your head that felt as if your skull was being crushed in a vice.

“I must remain calm and strong. There must be something I can say or do to save Herry.” You thought to yourself.”

Before your husband departed to go to the docks, he made certain to stop in your sewing room where he found you praying. Surprised that you still held out some faith in the midst of everything that was occurring, he laughed. Ivar thought you were insane for being so determined to beg your God for your lover’s life.

“Wife, despite your prayers, I do believe I am the one your so-called God has listened to.” He said with wide, pleased eyes. “He and my own Gods have blessed me. We are leaving to the docks but shall be home shortly for Harald’s welcoming. And please make certain that it is the most lavish feast I have thrown in a long while. I am in a……celebratory mood.”

For a moment, you contemplated stabbing Ivar with the knitting needle that you held in your hand as he turned to leave. He was far to pleased with himself and the glee he seemed to get from the impeding death of Herry made you detest him even more. Though you wanted to hurt him in that moment, you knew better. So, instead of attacking your husband, you laid the knitting needle down and cried.

_______________

At the docks, Ivar appeared to be the happiest man on earth as he sat upon a bench watching the ship pull ever closer to Kattegat. As he peered out over the waters, he flipped his axe over and over in anticipation of having Herry Forester standing in front of him in the flesh.

He wanted to see for himself, the man whom you wished to live happily ever after with and most likely bear his children. Ivar could only imagine the things you and Herry spoke about as you lay in his arms whilst he was away raiding. The thought of it all made him even happier that he had chosen to capture your lover. His jealousy was properly stoked as he threw his axe again.

“I see that you are very pleased.” Halfdan said as he leaned on a wooden beam.

“Oh, I am. Not only will I get my vengeance but I will make certain that his death is one that will honor the Gods.” Ivar said as he kept his eyes on the approaching ship.

Halfdan understood why Ivar was planning to kill the man but at the same time, he also felt bad for you. As he gazed into the sky, he contemplated all that was about to unfold once his brother’s ship docked.

Halfdan knew that you were a good woman and had seen how often his friend had mistreated you. Even as a Viking, he knew women would often find comfort in other man’s arms when they felt unloved or unappreciated. Though he wanted to advise Ivar of this, he understood that the young Ragnarsson was not like other men. He found offense in things too easily and was also quick-tempered. For that reason, Halfdan kept his opinion to himself.

As Ivar, Halfdan and some of their other friends awaited the ship that was still a bit off in the distance, Bjorn appeared. He came with news of an important meeting that was taking place about upcoming raids and newly discovered lands. It had been announced some time back but it appeared that Ivar had forgotten about it due to his focus being on your lover.

“But I am awaiting Harald to dock.” Your husband protested. “Go on without me and make my excuses.”

“Ivar this is important. The other leaders and Kings will take exception if all the Ragnarssons are not present.” Bjorn chided him. “Even I have come, despite living the furthest away. It is far too important. You must attend!”

Rolling his eyes, Ivar finally relented as he took up his crutch. Turning to Halfdan, he announced that they would attend the meeting but leave a good number of thralls and servants behind to welcome Harald home. After leaving instructions with some of his men, Ivar and Halfdan joined Bjorn to attend the meeting.

_________________

After the meeting had ended and all was decided about who would lead what garrisons and battalions, Ivar was quick to make haste back home. He was pleased to see that all the thralls and servants that had traveled with Harald were back on the estate premises. It meant that his friend and the mysterious Herry Forester were there as well.

Harald was outdoors in the canopied dining area after receiving a greeting fit for a King, as per Ivar’s orders. He had been lavishly bathed by thralls and now sat, busily eating foods befitting any royal.

“My dear friend. I am glad to see that the Gods have brought you back home safely.” Ivar said as he warmly greeted Harald.  

“Good to see you as well.”

After Harald and his brother exchanged greetings and brotherly love, Ivar sat down with the two men.

“We shall celebrate your return in grand fashion tonight. So you should rest until then.”Ivar boasted.

“Your little ‘present’ is in the cell as you wanted.”

“How does he appear to you?” Ivar asked as he gave all his attention to Harald.

His inquisitive mind wanted to know more before setting eyes on your lover. In a way, he wanted the opinion of another man, perhaps to squelch his deep seeded insecurity. Pondering for a moment, Harald finally spoke.

“Well, when I first spotted him when they brought him aboard the ship, I was not surprised.”

“How so?” Ivar asked.

“Well, he seems to be the type that could make some women weak. Especially Christian women. He possesses a boyish appearance…. you know….soft face and all.”Harald said as he took a bite of roasted meat. “Typical weakness brought about through their odd breeding practices….I assume.”

“So he appears a weaker man than I?” Ivar asked as blue eyes got larger.

“By Gods yes! Our shield-maidens would utterly reject him on site.” Harald chuckled as a thrall poured him mead.

Ivar smiled upon hearing that his ‘rival’ was not as masculine or powerful in appearance as he was. To know that you had chosen a weak specimen of a man actually made him laugh. Especially, since your husband prided himself on being imposing and intimidating. As you passed by them with four thralls in tow, Ivar glanced at you. Though your eyes met, you ignored him and turned your head.

“Wife!” He barked. “Do you not see that our friend Harald has returned?”

You stopped walking, almost ready to burst from rage. His happy countenance as of late was frustrating to endure. Turning sharply towards your husband, you exhaled before you spoke.

“I have had the pleasure of welcoming dear Harald home already.” You said. “He arrived hours ago whilst you were away at the meeting after all. Or have you forgotten that you instructed me to care for him prior to your departure?” You asked with some annoyance.

“I truly suggest that you watch your tone Y/N.” Ivar said as he gazed at you. “I merely asked you one simple question. I am in no need of a speech. Am I understood?”

“You are understood.” You replied.

With that you turned on your heels and walked away with the four thralls scurrying behind you. Harald and Halfdan exchanged glances before they continued to eat and drink. Ivar on the other hand, continued to watch you as you walked away. What he was thinking about or planning, only he knew.

_______________

“Mistress, can you please follow me to the courtyard?” A thrall said as she nervously looked at you.

“But this is my alone time.” You replied. “I shall go for fresh air later.”

You continued to sew gold and sliver embellishments into the light blue over-tunic you were making for Sigurd. Since you were an amazing seamstress, you often found yourself making clothes for your brothers-in-law. The thrall swallowed hard before approaching you timidly.

“My Mistress, I do not mean to be so forward but I must insist. I was instructed to take you there by the Master.”

You stopped sewing and looked up at the thrall. She seemed tense as she waited for you to do as she asked.

“Fine.” You said as you put your things down. “Let us see what this is all about.”

__________________

Since the winter was lifting, the weather was pretty decent so you only donned  your light cloak over your dress and skirts as you followed the thrall. You were unaware that your every move was being watched. In the high-tower, Ivar sat with Ubbe and Hvitserk, observing you as he had planned.

“Are you certain you want to do this?” Ubbe asked as he poured himself some ale.

“Of course I am.” Ivar replied as he kept his eyes trained upon you. “I never do anything I am not certain of. Besides………..I have to see it for myself.”

What he wanted to ‘see for himself’ was the depth of your affection for Herry. Ivar had decided against meeting his prisoner face-to-face for the meantime. Instead, he wanted to lay eyes upon him from a distance. That was his reason for having you brought to the courtyard. To not only gaze upon his nemesis for the first time, but to witness your reaction to seeing him again. Most men would not have wanted to put themselves in that type of situation, but Ivar was an oddity. He was tormenting himself so that the execution would be far worse.

“This is absurd.” Hvisterk said as he watched you cross the courtyard. “Do you not realize that this will make her melancholy worse?”

“Melancholy?” Ivar scoffed. “Do not allow Y/N to fool you, brother. She is no wilting flower or tender-hearted woman. She is only upset that her plans to disgrace me did no come to fruition.

As he finished speaking, Ivar noted that some of his men were approaching you from the east-side of the estate. He waved Ubbe and Hvitserk forward so they could also witness what he was seeing.

_____________

The attractive Herry Forester walked between five guards as they led him towards where you and your thralls were sat. As he took notice of your form, your lover walked ahead of the men with a smile upon his face.

Since you had your back to them, he admired you a while before he finally called out to you. Upon hearing the voice you knew all too well, you froze. Slowly, you turned to see the man you loved and adored standing before you. You stood up and looked him over, still in shock at the sight. Surprisingly, Herry appeared to be in good spirits despite everything as he gazed into your eyes with deep affection.

You were utterly beside yourself with love and grief.

_______________

As he sat next to Ivar, Hvitserk watched with bated breath - his ears growing hot with jealously. Though he knew he should not be feeling so. You had been perfectly honest with him about your love for the man after all. Even when you had divulged the reason behind Ivar ordering you to be interrogated, you never held back about your devotion to Herry. So, like his little brother, all Hvitserk could do was watch the reunion unfold below him.

Ubbe, for his part, thought Ivar was insane for allowing you to be put in such a position. He knew that nothing good could come of it for either you nor Ivar. As much as the youngest Ragnarsson liked to make others believe that he was always in control of his emotions, Ubbe knew better. He knew that his little brother was underestimating the situation. Dark heart or not, watching the person you loved reunite with whom they really desired, would be a painful experience for anyone.

________________

“Herry!” You said as you finally ran to him.

Amazingly, the guards did not stop you. Since they had been instructed to allow you freedom of movement, they merely stood and watched. You embraced Herry tightly as he picked you up off your feet. You buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his flesh while running your fingers through his wavy hair. The two of you stayed that way for a good long while, pretending that the world had melted away.

As he set you down, you looked up at your lover with eyes that began welling with tears.

“I have missed you something fierce Y/N.” He said - his own eyes glistening with tears as well.

“Your beautiful hair.” You exclaimed with a weak smile upon your face. “It is flaxen now?”

Herry chuckled as you brushed his locks with your fingers. He stated that there was an older woman who had bleached it with ash and lye soap to help further his disguise.

“That worked out quite well, did it not love?” He said in jest as he laughed.

You hit him on his shoulder for his attempt at humor at such a serious time. Knowing your hatred of jesting during grave moments, Herry laughed at you even harder.

“Well, I see you have not changed.” He added.

“Oh, be quiet.” You playfully commanded as you gazed at him.

Placing your hands on each of his cheeks, you caressed his face as if you were touching him for the first time. He gazed down at you with adoration as you took in every little detail of his person. From the tiny light brown mole on his chin, to the stubble along his jawline.

“I am so, so very sorry, my love” You said as tears escaped your eyes. “I did not wish for you to ever be here again. If–”

"Well, I for one cannot say that I am entirely saddened to be back here.” He smiled weakly. “At least I have laid eyes upon you again. I was so miserable without you. Every day, I wondered if it was the day your ship would arrive.

You pulled his face to yours - touching foreheads as you began to cry. The two of you stood that way for at least two minutes before Herry perked your chin up with his finger.

“Y/N, you know that I love you.” He said tapping your chin gently. “Though things are quite dire, you are forgetting what we have always said. No regrets. Remember?”

“No regrets.” You echoed as the tears kept streaming down your face.

Herry took a kerchief from his leather vest and began wiping your face as if you were a child. He smiled at you while doing so, knowing that your love for him was as deep as his love for you.

_______

Ivar’s jaws were so tense that Ubbe feared he would erupt in a blind rage at any moment. He was in no mood for his brother to escalate things more than they already were. Before he could say a word to his little brother, Ivar spoke.

“Look how she dotes upon him with no shame.” He said both in envy and anger.

“You are the one who insisted on witnessing it.” An annoyed Ubbe replied. “What did you think was going to occur?”

“It is of no consequence now.” Ivar snapped. “I am finally ready to meet this so-called Herry face to face. I want him to hear of his impending death from my own lips.”

Hvitserk and Ubbe glanced at one another in silence. They knew Ivar’s desire to see you reunite with your lover had only added to his madness. And they also knew that it would lead to things become worse for everyone for the foreseeable future.

__________________

Herry was sat in his prison cell reading the Psalms from his family bible when he heard numerous people approaching. For some odd reason, Ivar had allowed his prisoner to keep his religious books. Not as a show of kindness, but as a display of his great power. He wanted you and Herry to know that despite all your bibles, prayers and crosses, none were a match for Ivar the Boneless!

As the cell door was unlocked by a guard, Herry looked up to see who was coming to pay him a visit.

“So, I finally get to meet the man and legend himself. Herry Forester!” Ivar smirked as he walked into the cell. “The thrall who seduced my wife and then absconded to Wessex with my coin.”

Herry looked at Ivar a moment, not shaken by his words. He knew your husband was a cruel man who prided himself in tormenting others. So, despite being a prisoner of a man feared by both Heathen and Christian alike, your lover was unmoved.

“I cannot seduce a woman who is mine freely.”

Ivar glared at Herry as he walked around him slowly. He did not like the composed manner in which your Christian lover spoke. Not only did he look Ivar straight in his eyes, he did not show an ounce of fear, despite his situation.

“Do you think I am a fool?” Ivar asked.

“No. Why would I think that?” A serene Herry replied.

Ivar’s jaw tensed. His anger was rising quickly as he looked upon the young man before him. Whether he cared to admit it or not, he envied Herry. Though he had no great family name, war accolades or wealth, he had something that Ivar had yet to capture. Your heart.

“If you do not think me a fool, why did you sleep with my wife and think there would be no punishment?” Ivar hissed. “

“I will be honest with you Prince Ivar. In my wildest dreams, I would have never thought that I would ever bed a married woman.” Herry said. “However, Y/N should have never been your wife to begin with.”

Ivar’s blue eyes widened at the young man’s bluntness.

“We were in love and intended to marry long before you took her by force.” Herry continued. “I have broken a commandment, that I know. My Lord and God will have to judge me for that. But I do not regret being with the woman I love. Neither you nor anyone else can ever make me feel different.”

Ivar’s nostrils flared and his brow furrowed as he got in Herry’s face. He had heard enough from the unapologetic Christian. He expected the young man to be begging for his life by now, not reaffirming his love for you.

“I am going to enjoy killing you.” Ivar hissed.

“Do what you must.” Herry replied never looking away from Ivar’s intense glare.

“You have done nothing but torment Y/N from the day you walked into her life. At least this time, I am the focus of your rage. You can kill me. But what she and I share is beyond this mortal world. She will always love me.” Herry added.

“Good. Then you can expect her to love you whilst you lay in your Christian grave.” Ivar said between gritted teeth.

“The Bible tells us that it is appointed for man to live once and then die to face judgment. I do not fear death.”

“We’ll see.” Ivar replied.

“Despite what you believe, you are not God! I will neither beg nor fear you Ivar. Believer or not, you shall also die one day and receive your own judgment.” Herry said as he clasped his hands in front of him.

Ivar began shaking with rage. So much so that his guards thought for certain he would kill the prisoner at that very moment. Before he lost control, your husband calmed himself. He backed out of the cell and had it locked again. As he stood in front of the bars looking at Herry, Ivar spit on the ground before he finally departed.

__________________

Ivar barged into your chamber nearly in the middle of the night after drinking with his brothers and friends. The only brother to make excuses that evening was Hvitserk; who did not think he could be around Ivar without it resulting in violence. As soon as your husband sat upon the bed to be undressed by the thralls, you spoke up.

“Please Ivar! I cannot live if you follow through.” You said holding in your tears. If there is anything you want me to do, I beg that you tell me. Please!” You added as you practically crawled to him. "With everything in me as a woman….I ask for mercy.”

You held onto one of his legs - covered by his metal brace. The coldness of the steel that helped your husband walk was as cold as his heart. Ivar looked down at you as if you were a madwoman that had wondered in off the streets.

“Let go of me Y/N.” He snapped. “I am tired and in need of rest.”

“Punish me instead!” You said as you began to weep.

Your heart began to feel as if it would stop beating from the pain. The thought of your sweet Herry dying in front of you was worse than anything you could imagine. How could you watch the life leave your lover’s body? It was just too much for your Christian sensibilities to handle. Still looking down at you, Ivar drew his face into a familiar scowl as his jaw tightened. His blue eyes became dark and full of a malice you had never seen before. It was the angriest you had seen your husband in a long while.

“Have you gone mad Y/N?” He shouted at you with his face turning red. “You are MY wife and you gave yourself to another. Now you beg upon your knees?” He seethed. “Do you know that you are making it worse for him? I shall give him a death that will make even the Gods tremble if you do not leave me be!”

“Ivar.” You said - tears falling uncontrollably. “I implore you not to kill him. Just imprison him for life. If anyone should suffer, let it be me.” Your voice shook with brokenness. “Kill me instead. I am the one who deceived you not–.”

“Shut up Y/N! Do you hear yourself right now?” Ivar shouted.

He could not believe what you were saying. Why were you so dedicated to a man who was nothing and owned nothing compared to him? He was a Ragnarsson and a Prince, not to mention a feared warrior. Herry was merely a former thrall that had made good use of the coin you gave him.

“So, you are willing to offer me your life for his without a second thought?” Ivar asked as he looked at you with disgust. “Listen and listen to me well Y/N, for I shall not repeat myself. You fucked this thrall while I was off raiding, never giving thought of praying for my safe return. Then, you had the gall to use my coin to hide him! Do you really suppose tears will suffice for all that?” He shook his head as if you had lost your senses. “Of course I’m going to kill him!”

______________

It was the night before Herry’s appointed death and you paced the floor of the Great Hall beside yourself with grief. Ivar had gone off somewhere with Halfdan, Harald and Ubbe leaving you to your own devices. You wanted desperately to see your lover one last time but you knew your husband’s men would never allow it. As you took a seat, utterly dejected, you heard footsteps approach.

“Come quickly Y/N.” Hvitserk beckoned.

When you looked at him, he knelt by you - dressed finely as if he had just returned from a feast or event.

“Where are we–.”

“There is no time for questions. Just trust me.”

Taking his hand, you allowed the Ragnarsson you had grown to trust and depend on, to lead you without question. It didn’t take long before your realized exactly where he was taking you. The tower where your dear Herry was being held. The two guards stopped you both when you arrived at the massive doors, however, Hvitserk took charge.

“You will allow us to pass, do I make myself clear? And if you repeat anything that you saw tonight, I will kill you both.” He said very calmly.

The men glanced at each other and then back at the Prince that stood before them. Shrugging, one stepped aside as the other opened up the large wood and metal door. Upon opening it, the one guard led the two of you to the cell where you found your lover awake looking out of the window into the night sky. The guard unlocked the metal cell door with a clank, which finally drew Herry’s attention. His face lit up upon seeing you.

Despite pain in his chest that felt worse than anything, Hvitserk stepped back.

“Go to him.” He said to you.

You looked back at the elder Ragnarsson and noted the forced smile upon his face. Touching his shoulder, you smiled with tears welling in your eyes.

“Thank you Hvitty.” You whispered.

___________

In the cell, you ran into Herry’s arms. He hugged you tightly as you both attempted to savor the moment. Without a second thought you broke the embrace and crashed your lips to his for the first time in months. The kiss was gentle, sweet and pure. His lips claimed yours as he practically swept you off your feet.

A solemn Hvitserk turned his back to the two of you and took a seat on a nearby stool. Everything in him hurt. It wasn’t a feeling he had ever felt before. He had his share of lovers but he never felt any pain when he lost them or saw them with another. But with you, it felt as if he was falling ill. Hvitserk gritted his teeth to keep from thinking about how only a few paces behind him, you were utterly happy in another man’s arms.

“I love you so much Herry.” You said. “Please forgive me for everything I have done to you to bring you to this wretched moment.”

He smiled as he brushed his lips against yours a moment before kissing you again. After breaking the kiss, Herry rubbed his thumb against your bottom lip and smiled.

“What is there for me to forgive my silly one? You have done nothing to me but love me unconditionally. Everything else is as God has allowed it.” He said before giving you a soft peck.

“I will always love you Herry.” You replied with a shaking voice. “I…..I shall kill myself so I can be with you.”

Hvitserk’s heart sank when he heard you state that you wanted to end your life.

“Do not say such things Y/N. You know that people who take their own life end up in purgatory and can never enter eternal rest. Do you wish to damn your soul and separate us for eternity?” Herry asked with a smile.

“No.” You hesitated. “I suppose not. It is just….I cannot live without you. You are my heart.”

“As you are mine.” He said as he pulled you closer. “That is why you must be a fighter. You dying as well will not solve anything. Remember, things will not always be so dire, you must believe that.”

Herry took your hand and kissed your fingertips and then playfully bit them as he had habit of doing. In spite of your sadness, you giggled in response. The two of you touched foreheads tenderly as you caressed his face - you fingers lightly dancing against his skin.

“I have prayed and committed my soul to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.” He said. “I feel an odd sense peace now.”

“I have been praying for you as well. Perhaps, we can still hold out for a miracle.”

“Let us not speak of miracles my sweet Y/N.” Herry said as he wrapped his arms around you and rested your head upon his shoulder. “Just let me hold you.”

_______________

In the courtyard of your husbands estate, you sat where the Viking priests had instructed. It was late in the afternoon and time for the Herry Forester to meet his maker. Numerous friends and acquaintances of your husband were sat around at tables, eating and drinking. As you sat numb to the world, you nervously twisted your black over-skirt - the entire outfit selected by Ivar. As for your husband, he was also donned in all black standing near a large table full of all manner of weaponry.

You winced as you saw how many instruments of torture were on display. Especially the large war axe that you knew Berserkers loved for it’s ability to mutilate the human body quickly. You overheard Ivar speaking to the priest who was sharpening a large dagger in a language you did not recognize. When he had finished, the priest unraveled his braids and allowed Ivar’s dark hair to cascade down his back and shoulders. The man then rubbed some dark-reddish powder throughout your husband’s locks. When he was done, the priest handed the dagger to Ivar. Walking to you upon his crutch, your husband stopped directly in front of you.

“Stand up, wife.” He commanded.

When you did as he asked, Ivar pressed his forehead to yours - his hair tickling your cheeks as the wind picked up. You then realized that he wasn’t merely pressing his head to yours for no reason, he was saying some words in the dialect you did not recognize. From the cadence of how he spoke, you surmised that he was likely offering a prayer to his Gods.

Hvitserk, who sat a few yards away with Ubbe and Sigurd, eyed Ivar with disdain. When your husband had finished the prayer, he suddenly held the curved dagger by it’s handle. The weapon was as pretty as it was deadly looking. It was engraved with runes so you assumed it was a ceremonial weapon of sorts. As his hair blew in the wind, Ivar’s blue eyes stared into yours a moment before he leaned to your ear.

“If you kill him, I shall not have the need to prolong his death.” He said. See, I have given you a choice.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open but no words escaped. Ivar gave you a pleased look as you stood in utter shock. Your husband then managed to unravel one of your thick braids and used the dagger to cut a lock of your hair. He handed the strands to a priest and then cut a lock of his own hair in the same manner. When the priest had both of your hairs in his hand, he nodded and walked away. After that was complete, two thralls rushed over and rubbed some aromatic oils in Ivar’s hair before they quickly braided it.

The same scented oils were run along your already style hair as you stood motionless. Satisfied, one of the priests applied black ash on both of your foreheads in the form of a symbol - what it stood for, you did not know.

Ivar held on to the ceremonial dagger as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You began to shake as you felt your knees go weak. How could he expect you to kill the man you loved? The three priests walked to you and Ivar and began chanting in the unfamiliar dialect again while walking around you both in a circle. Your heart began to pound in your ears as you looked around and searched for where they were holding Herry.

You had not seen him since Hvitserk had taken you to him the night before. The nausea hit you as the priests continued walking around you and Ivar. For a brief moment, you looked at the dagger in your husband’s hand and contemplated using it on him. The man who had tormented you for nearly two years was within striking distance. Ivar’s guard was down as he stood beside you holding it loosely, focused on what the priests were saying.

But your husband was a perceptive man. Noticing the manner in which you were staring at the dagger and clenching your jaw, Ivar’s grip upon your waist tightened. He then leaned his mouth to your ear.

“What are you thinking, hmm?” He asked in a very calm tone. “I will not try to stop you. But know this Y/N, if you strike, you best kill me.”

You looked up into Ivar’s blue eyes that met yours with odd resolve. He stared at you as if he was challenging you to try to kill him. The intense, unwavering nature of his gaze finally made you look away. How did he know you so well that he could tell what you were thinking by merely by looking at you? It was as strange as it was unnerving.

Suddenly, some horns sounded and Herry was led past the gathered people towards the center of the courtyard. As soon as you saw your lover, you tried to go to him but Ivar pulled you back.

“Hold him there a moment.” A pleased Ivar commanded. “Behold everyone! Here is our Christian hero returned to us from Wessex. All in the name of love.” He shouted to the laughter of the Vikings around him.

Ivar laughed as he gazed at his rival for the last time. Indeed, Herry would no longer cause him any more grief.

Hvitserk shifted in his seat as he held his sword on his lap, quite tired of his brother’s show.

“What was it you said to me in the cell, Herry?” Ivar asked before he leaned over and placed a kiss upon your cheek. “Oh, I remember. You said that you appreciated that my rage was focused on you instead of Y/N.”

Herry glared at him but stood with his head held high.

“So what would you do if I was to decide to punish her instead?” Ivar said as he grabbed the back of your neck and raised the dagger.

Exposing the length of your neck by drawing you head backward, he placed the jagged blade against your throat as he glared into the eyes of the man he hated. Harald and Halfdan both looked at each other with some confusion before turning their attention back to Ivar’s display. Though he had a weapon at your neck, neither of them believed he would actually do anything.

However, the brothers were unsure of what their friend was trying to prove and did not care for it. Fortunately, they were not the only ones. The other Ragnarssons eyed Ivar cautiously in case his display was not merely for shock value. As for Hvitserk, he was thoroughly prepared to kill Ivar if need be.

“Do not harm her please.” Herry said with brokenness.

“Then get on your knees and beg me for her life!” Ivar hissed. “You told me that you would never beg me nor fear me. I want to see you do both.”

Without hesitation, Herry got on his knees.

“I beg you Prince Ivar, do not hurt Y/N. She does not deserve it.” He said. “You have me to do with as you see fit. Please, I ask you for mercy.”

Ivar chuckled, quite pleased with the manner in which his threat had caused distress to Herry. He glanced at you a moment before slowly pulling the dagger away. With a smug smile, your husband looked down at his prisoner.

“Well that was easy.” He said with satisfaction. “Now, it is time for you to meet your Christian God.”

You pulled yourself from Ivar’s grip and ran to Herry - kneeling on the ground before him. Sigurd, being perhaps the most sensitive of the Ragnarssons, watched with a heavy heart. He could not imagine how you were feeling. Hvitserk also felt bad, however, he wavered between jealousy and pity.

“Herry, do not worry about me. I should be the one begging for your life despite the fact that Ivar has a heart of stone.”

“As I have told you already, I have made my peace. Just promise me that you will always love me.” Herry said as he caressed your cheek.

Ivar frowned as he watched you behave as if the world was coming to an end.

“Y/N, you best kill him now or I will began dismembering him while alive and spread his parts all over Kattegat!” Your husband yelled at you.

Your heart raced as you looked into Herry’s eyes. He appeared to pity you instead of concerning himself with his impending death.

“Do not allow him to force you to kill me. I will take his punishment as it comes.”

“No!” You said as you grasped his tunic. “Are you mad? Do you want me to think about your last moments being that of gore and violence?”

“But…you cannot do it my love. It would be too much for you to live with. I know your kind heart too well.” Herry said as he gave you a faint smile.

“I cannot allow you to suffer but I also do not want to use my own hands to hurt you.”You said placing your forehead against his.

“Either say you will do it or I shall begin carving!” Ivar growled.

“I…I shall do it!” You said loudly as tears fell.

Ivar was inwardly happy with your decision. All along, he had wanted you to be the one to destroy your lover. He felt it was what you deserved for hurting him. A surprised Bjorn put his head down as he tapped the side of horn of mead. There was an uneasy silence as the guards grabbed Herry and began to lead him towards the table used for human sacrifice.

You did your best to hold onto his hand as long as possible until one of the guards finally had to pull you off. As he was being taken to his area of execution, Herry broke away from the guards suddenly. He rushed over to you with his eyes fixed upon yours and pulled you into one last kiss.

Ivar was livid and he shouted at his men to break up the scene before his eyes. The guards all hesitated a moment, seemingly astounded by the depth of the love between you. Once Herry was pulled away from you, Ivar walked over and placed the ceremonial dagger into your hand.

“If you hesitate Y/N, I will not give you a second attempt.” He said.

As you slowly walked over to your lover, who was laid on his back on the ceremonial table, Bjorn suddenly sauntered over to your side. Grabbing your wrist, your former Master and now brother-in-law whispered.

“Stick him between his jaw and earlobe. He will go rather quickly.” The elder Ragnarsson said and then pointed to the spot he spoke of.

You nodded slowly, in a bit of a daze as you held the dagger close to your chest. When you approached the table where Herry laid awaiting you, you legs went weak and you stumbled. Bjorn, who was still close by, caught you and rested you against himself. Being a caring person, he walked you over to the ceremonial table and stood beside you still allowing you to place your weight against him. In his heart, Bjorn felt as if everything occurring was his own fault. If he had only stuck to his initial denials to his little brother, you would have had a much happier life.

Your body trembled violently as you leaned over Herry and laid your head upon his chest. Your tears would not stop as you listened to his heart beating underneath your ear. A heart, that in moments, would beat no more. Bringing his hand to your head, Herry turned you to face him.

“Do not do it Y/N. It will break you.” He said as he peered into your eyes.

“I would do anything for you Herry. Even this.” You said. “I will be strong for both of us so that your death will not be painful.”

He smiled at you weakly as you caressed his face. Your heart felt utterly broken beyond comfort.

“I love you so much Herry.” You said as you studied his features.

“I love you too Y/N. More than you could ever comprehend.” He said with his beautiful smile beaming at you. “No regrets my love.”

“No regrets.” You replied.

Taking the ceremonial dagger, you glanced back at Bjorn who pointed to his neck again to show you the spot to hit. You exhaled deeply and looked down at Herry’s neck to find the right area as instructed by the eldest Ragnarsson. Once you spotted it, you leaned down and gave Herry once last kiss.

“That is enough! I–.”

Before Ivar could finish his words, you thrust the dagger swiftly into your lover’s neck, severing the artery just as Bjorn had instructed. Herry’s green eyes went wide as he looked into Y/C eyes with shock. You dropped the bloody dagger on the ground as you took his hand in yours and placed you face close to his.

“I am so, very sorry. Please do not hate me Herry.” You sobbed as you tried to comfort him the best you could. “It is all my fault.”

Hvitserk looked away. He could not bear to see you so distraught, even if it was over another man.

Sigurd and Ubbe both drank their mead by the mouthfuls as they attempted to drown out your sorrowful wails. As for the other Vikings, they seemed pleased with the death of a Christian. Especially at the hand of another supposed Christian. The irony of your ‘thou shalt not kill’ commandment made them laugh the more.

Herry did not make any painful noises as you expected. He kept looking into your eyes as the blood pooled underneath him and slowly slid down into a large wooden bowl located by the table. His breathing became shallow as he kept staring into your eyes. The light in his once bright green eyes, seemingly fading by the second.

“I see it. It is so very beautiful Y/N.” He muttered.

“I love you Herry. I will always love you.” You whimpered with your face against his.

Within seconds, your sweet Herry was no more. His body stilled and his eyes stared into yours but with no life behind them. You collapsed on top of him, kissing his lips and caressing his face as you wailed unlike anything the Vikings around you had seen before. You were utterly broken.

You could not recall what else had occurred between you collapsing on top of Herry’s body and when you awakened to find yourself being carried by Sigurd. He was relieved to see you open your eyes, as was Hvitserk who was walking alongside him. As your brother-in-law carried you away from the now festive atmosphere of your lover’s execution, you saw Ivar with the bowl that contained Herry’s blood. He was the first to dip his hands and taste of it before the rest of the Vikings would have their turn.

It was then you swore to one day leave Ivar no matter what the cost. If the two of you killed one another in the attempt, so be it.

____________

It had been nearly four months since Herry’s death and you had made certain that Ivar knew you would not lay with him. No matter what he said or did, you kept your word. To say your husband was sexually frustrated would have been an understatement. He became even more short tempered than he was already. However, you knew you had to come up with a plan since Ivar had begun ranting about his right to force himself upon you. Thinking long and hard, you came up with a solution you hoped would work. Taking great care to invite your little sister over for suppers and long walks, you slowly began introducing the subject of Ivar and your inability to ‘please’ him in the bed.

Despite Elizabeth’s good Christian girl persona, she was a woman first and foremost. Since having her son, you knew that she and Jonah’s sex life was not that great, according to her own words. You also knew that she found Ivar quite attractive and had seen her harmlessly flirt with him on many occasion. At one such supper, as you and your little sister ate alone, you finally decided to get to the point.

“You should perhaps try to relax more, or even try new positions in the bed. The man on top is wonderful but there is so much more, sister.” She suggested. “Please, do not think me naughty for saying it” She added with a giggle.

“No, that will not help the problem.” You replied. “What we are in need of is a…a convenient woman. Someone to lay with him since I am unable to at the present time.” You said as you eyed your sister.

Despite her shifting uncomfortably in her seat and sipping her wine quickly, Elizabeth did not interrupt you.

“Ivar is far too much man for me. I know we need another woman to please him but I just do not wish for it to be a stranger.” You paused. “That is why…..I want you, as my sister, to lay with him in my place.”

Elizabeth eyes shot to you. She could barely register what you had suggested.

“Now remember Lizzy, in the bible there are numerous mentions of women laying with married men at the behest of their wives.” You said as you tried to convince her. “It would not be deceitful since I am asking you to do it.”

To your utter relief, she did not throw her fork down and leave the table as you had thought. Instead, Elizabeth looked around and leaned closer over the table.

“But what of Jonah?” She asked. “Would I not be breaking my vows with him?”

“Oh heavens no. We are both married couples and you are not leaving him or philandering about. You are helping me to keep my marriage a happy one by fulfilling what I cannot in the bedchamber.” You replied. “There is no need to involve Jonah. Bedsides, Ivar is a man of privacy, he would want only the three of us to be in the know.”

Your sister was more excited than she wanted to let on. After mulling it over only a few minutes, she suddenly glanced up at you with a shy smile.

“I will do it.” She said.

_________________

After his return from visiting a nearby Kingdom with Halfdan, Bjorn and Harald, Ivar began drinking heavily again. Every night, he accused you of all manner of things, including being the reason he was being denied a baby. One such evening; when you had reminded him that he could father one with any woman in Kattegat; Ivar attempted to throw a large vessel of mead at your head. The only reason he was unable to do so was due to three thralls grabbing his arms. Indeed, Ivar had been on a rampage, the likes you had not seen.

Even Harald’s council did not soothe his inner beast. Due to his behavior, you tried to avoid him when he was at the estate. However, this only made things worse. He would go on tangents until frightened thralls searched you out and informed him of your whereabouts.

Regardless of what you were doing, whether it was merely sewing or watching the sunset over the waters of Kattegat, he would demand to be taken to your side. Despite you ignoring him, Ivar would seem content enough just being around you and eventually calm down. Your husband was behaving like a child afraid of their parent abandoning them and it was wearing on your nerves.

_____________

“You were too content with the idea of sleeping alone when I traveled with Bjorn.” He said in a drunken stupor one night. “Even if you cannot lay with me because of your issue, I am your husband; you should miss me!”

“What would you have me do Ivar? Go around mourning because you are not beside me every waking moment?”

“I no longer have patience for your sharp tongue Y/N! I do not know how many times I have to tell you this. One day, I shall cut it out and feed it to the dogs of Kattegat.” Ivar said.

He then produced his favorite knife from his side and placed the tip upon your cheek. You stared at him but said nothing.

The blade he held was quite sharp and you had seen him cut numerous thralls with it with little effort. Now, he had it pressed to your flesh as his drunken eyes glared at you.

“That is better.” He said with a frown upon his face. “I want you to speak to me as if love me as much as I love you.” He said as he blue eyes bore into yours. “Am I understood?”

“Of course.”

“Of course what?” Ivar hissed.

“Of course, my husband.”

Ivar smiled as he took the knife away from you flesh. He flurried it in his fingers a moment before returning it to his waist.

“I want you now.” He commanded as he drunkenly shoved you onto your back.

“Ivar, I have told you I have been suffering some women problems.” You protested with your lie.

Despite wanting to lay with you badly, Ivar scowled and rolled onto his back.

“I do have a solution though. Take this and I shall return.”

Ivar took the mead from your hand and began to drink as you stepped out of the bedchamber.

___________

You went straight off to the guest room your little sister always slept in when she visited and knocked. The way the two of you had figured things, it was only a matter of time before Ivar would demand sex and Elizabeth would be there to provide it. As you sister exited her chamber, she looked quite nervous. She was already wearing a red silk slip and over-slip in anticipation of you calling for her.

“It is time.” You said. “Do not be be so frightened Lizzy. He is merely a man.”

“I understand but I am still nervous.” She confessed. “What if he gets mad at the two of us for no reason and does something terrible?”

“Do not worry so much. Ivar is very drunk and very much in the mood for a woman’s touch.” You reassured her. “You will be fine.”

As you took your little sister’s hand in yours, you used the candle in your grasp to guide her back to your chambers.

__________

Ivar looked up when the two of you entered the chamber and gazed between you both for a moment. Immediately, he became perplexed.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked with his anger rising. “What is she doing here?”

“Ivar, my sweet husband. I have brought sweet Lizzy here to offer you release. She is willingly doing it to help us in our–.”

“You are pushing me to another woman? He asked with anger. “Is that how much you detest my touch?”

Comforting him, you caressed his cheek and kissed his lips sweetly.

“Of course not. It’s just that I know that Vikings do this all the time–”

“Stop comparing me to other men!” He hissed.

“I am sorry.” You soothed. “I merely meant that Lizzy wants to help you find some pleasure until I can give you what you need.”

Ivar looked into your eyes with mistrust as he gulped down more ale. He then looked over at Elizabeth who kept her eyes to the floor.

“Just for tonight.” He said as he glared at you. “I will not be pushed away Y/N. You are my wife, not Elizabeth!”

“Of course Ivar.” You replied as you kissed his cheek.

With that, you stood up and departed the chamber, quite pleased with yourself.

________

To say Elizabeth was excited to get in bed with Ivar the Boneless would have been an understatement. Ivar’s odd charms had managed to work their way into your little sister’s heart long ago. Aside from his good looks, she found his temperament exciting to be around especially since she was never on the receiving end of his cruelty. He seemed to treat her better than most people and even spoke with her more gently than he even spoke to you.

As the last of his clothes were removed by the thralls, Ivar barked at them to get out. As she stood looking at him, Elizabeth slowly began removing her garments as Ivar watched her from the bed. Instead of looking delighted however, Ivar’s expression changed to one of sad apprehension.

A nude Elizabeth slowly walked over to the bed and sat close to Ivar as he shifted on the furs. She was excited by toned frame as well as his manliness, which was overwhelming when compared to Jonah. Though she loved Jonah, your sister lusted after Ivar. You asking her to lay with him was not only a dream come true but something she had fantasied about numerous times. As she got on top of him, Elizabeth slowly rocked her mound against his semi erect cock. Unsure what to do at first, Ivar  finally held her waist as he watched her move.

“I hope I am not hurting you.” She said as she felt herself become even more aroused - her whole body running hot.

She looked down at your husband who still seemed hesitant as his eyes darted around the room.

“Do not be so tense. I am a woman Ivar. No different than my sister.”

“Do not mention Y/N.” Ivar said as his eyes went dark.

Nodding, Elizabeth kept rotating her hips against him until he began to groan as his excitement grew. Then abruptly, Ivar tossed your sister off him. Stunned, she sat up in the bed and looked at your husband who seemed to be battling his emotions.

“Did I do something wrong?” Elizabeth asked. “Please let me know so I can make it better.”

A frustrated Ivar rolled his eyes as he threw himself onto his back.

“What is the matter?” You sister asked nervously. “Did I offend with my words?”

Ivar looked up at the ceiling a while before he finally spoke.

“You did not offend me so stop apologizing.” He said. “It is just that…I do not want you.”

Elizabeth was stunned. How could he reject her while she sat in front of him  naked and ready to please him?

“But Ivar, I am here to give you anything you desire. Let me do what is required to make you feel good.” Elizabeth said as she kissed Ivar’s cheek. “You can just lay there while I—”

“No!” An increasingly upset Ivar said. “I just want to rest.”

With that Ivar rolled onto his side and covered himself with some furs. Though she felt quite rejected, Elizabeth cuddled up close to him as he tried to get comfortable.

“Ivar…..do you find me unattractive?” She asked.

Her pride was greatly wounded and she supposed that his rejection could have something to do with the few stretch marks from her pregnancy.

“You are not unattractive.” Ivar sighed as he closed his eyes. “I just want to be with my wife.”

________________

Two days later at your mother’s home, you sat in the main room embelishing a dress for her when she took a seat in front of you.

“I will help you do inventory when I am done with this, mother.”

“There will be no need for that dear. I have a girl that now does it for me on a regular basis.”

Your heart nearly stopped. You had purposely come to get your supply of herbs that had run out.

“But mother. Who knows the use of herbs like our family?” You said. “Besides, we have such a methodical way of arranging them.”

“My thrall has picked up on it quite nicely. You need not worry.” Your mother replied as she eyed you.

You were becoming agitated as you continued to sew. You had to figure out a way to get into her shop. To gather the herbs she had was both difficult and time consuming. Especially since they were spread all over Kattegat. With how Ivar had you under lock and key, there was no way you could ever gather them yourself even if you wanted to.

“Mother if—.”

“Why have you been lying to me Y/N?”

“Pardon?”

Your mother exhaled as she put her cup of honeyed water down.

“I know you have been stealing herbs from me.” She said. “Why did you feel the need to do such a thing?”

You stopped sewing and sighed as you put the dress to the side. It was time to come clean to your mother now that you had been caught.

“Mother, I am truly sorry but I thought you would not understand. I know how you feel about such herbs for Christian women.”

“That may be true but does that give you the right to commit the sin of stealing? She asked. “From your own mother of all people. Do you know how long it takes me and the thralls I’ve trained to find these specimens?”

“I am so–”

“Of course you do not know because you simply come here, pretend that you want to keep me company and steal what you need.”

You felt like a wicked person when you actually heard your mother speak of your actions. It was a bit cruel to visit her for the sole purpose of stealing herbs for your own use - never taking into account her time and effort to attain them.

“Mother forgive me but I was desperate.”

“But I am your mother. You should be able to tell me these things.” She sighed. “What do you suppose your violent husband would do to me if his servants were to ever find those herbs in your possession?”

“I never thought about–.”

“Do you realize that most females can recognize these herbs by looking at them?” She asked. “Do you think we are the only women on earth to have knowledge of ‘how not to hold seed’?”

You thought about all your mother had put to you and realized that you had been selfish with both her herbs as well as her well-being. It was true that if any thralls saw the herbs and reported back to Ivar, your mother would not necessarily be safe. Ivar was capable of anything and her being your mother didn’t mean he would not harm her.

“Look dear. I will not allow you anymore access to the shop.”

You looked around the room in a panic, wondering what to say to change her mind.

“However….” She continued. “I will make small batches for you and send them with one of my trusted thralls.” Your mother said holding up a little silver vial. “She’s very old and keeps to herself. The tinctures will come in something similar to this….easy to hide and appears to be jewelry to the untrained eye.”

“You mean….you will still help me?” You asked.

“Of course.” Your mother said. “After all, you are my daughter.”

__________________

“I do not understand.” You said as you began to pace. “Why must Ivar set you and your men in the center of the battle?”

Hvitserk smiled at you knowing you were worried about him losing his life on the battlefield.

A Viking King named Kol Oddsson had turned on some of Bjorn and Ivar’s men after they had helped in raiding a newly discovered settlement. Upon hearing the news, the other Viking leaders asked that swift justice be meted out. After all, they could not allow leaders to think that the breaking alliances would ever be tolerated.

With great planning by Ivar, Bjorn and the rest of the Ragnarssons, the tactics had been drawn-up to take war to the wayward King. They were all to depart in three days much to your concern.

“Do not worry Y/N. I believe that the Gods are on my side……at least for now.” Hvitserk said as he pulled you by your skirts towards him. “At any rate, if I fall in battle, I shall go to Valhalla to be with my father and the other great warriors.”

“Hvitserk!” You sharply looked at him with fire in your eyes. “If you speak of dying to me again, I shall leave you in this room by yourself! I do not wish to lose you regardless of what your beliefs are.”

Very touched at how much you cared, he pulled you to his lap and kissed you. His soft lips grazed yours as he pulled away.

“I have been mulling over some plans to get us away from Ivar. I know it will take time to thoroughly come up with a good enough one for him to not find us…but I am confidant.” Hvitserk said as he held your hand.

Your eyes twinkled as you looked at him. It was one of the best pieces of news you had received in a long time. You wanted nothing more than to be with Hvitserk as your husband. That was the closest to an ideal life you could dream up especially now that Herry was gone.

“I trust your mind Hvitty.” You said as you placed a gentle kiss upon his lips. “I will wait patiently. You know how much I have grown to care for you”

Hvitserk bit his lip at your words. He wanted desperately for you to say you loved him not merely ‘cared’ for him. However, he knew that you had lost Herry not long ago and you would not be so quick to confess such a thing. Since he loved you already, he was willing to wait to hear the three words whenever you were able to utter them.

“I love you Y/N.” He sighed. “And the time will come when I will have you all to myself. We will no longer have to tiptoe around Ivar’s madness.” He said before he kissed your cheek.

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Do not get comfortable with the idea so quickly. After all, I am a demanding man myself. You will earn your keep.” He teased. “As you promised, you will cook at least five meals a week yourself, despite us having servants. Oh, and of course you shall give me three children I can dote on.”

“Three?” You smiled with curiosity. “Why the odd number?

“I suppose I want one less than my mother had. Ivar was the fourth born, and well…….you see how that turned out.” He smirked.

You gave Hvitserk a passionate kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The two of you were stolen away in a new portion of the estate that had been built. The rooms were not yet fully decorated so no one really came there with the exception of decorators during the daytime. Hvitserk looked into your eyes with a passion that made your heart race. He was very much like Herry in how he cared for you. Because of this, you cared for the older Ragnarsson despite never even laying with him once.

“You better return to me in one piece.” You said as you caressed his hands that were intertwined with yours.

“I know why you are so desperate for me to survive.”

“Because I care for you of course.”

“That is not your only reason. I know for a fact that you lust after me.” He teased. “Do not think I have not noticed how you eye me at all times. If you do not control yourself, I will begin thinking that you are using me solely for my body, Y/N.”

You laughed at his remark as you stood so the two of you could return to the main portion of the estate. However, Hvitserk stopped you. Instead, he brought you back to his lap and tickled you mercilessly.

_________________

Despite what Hvitserk had said, you knew he was being put in a very dangerous position. Out of all his brothers and close friends, Ivar had Hvitserk in the center of the greatest amount of fighting. You could not understand how your husband could risk his brother’s life in such a fashion but not that of Halfdan and Harald. You knew telling Hvitserk to make Ivar change the battle plans would be fruitless. He did not care to ask for his little brother’s mercy and had already thrown his life into the hands of his Gods.

You, on the other hand, had the ability to get Ivar to do things for you. That was, if you actually took your time to be ‘nice’ to him. You cared for Hvitserk and if seducing Ivar meant saving his life, you would do so in a heartbeat. After all, you could do nothing to save Herry but Hvtiserk would not be put in an early grave due to Ivar’s whims. Not if you could help it!

“Ivar.” You said as you finally found him still seated in the empty Great Hall.

He looked at you with annoyance but other than that, he beckoned you forward. When you sat upon his lap, he was surprised and shifted in his seat. As you placed your arms around his neck, your husband looked at your with a grain of mistrust.

“What is it Y/N?” He said as he coldly eyed you. “You have never liked sitting on my lap before. Even when I try to pull you to me, you resist, but now you do so willingly?” He furrowed his brow as he finished speaking.

“I…I suppose you are correct. It is just that…..well…” You tried to find the best words as not to raise his suspicion. “I feel……the need to be touched now that my womanly issue is getting better.”

Ivar smirked at your revelation. But just as quickly, his face went serious.

“You toy with me.” He said as his nostrils flared and eyes became large. “I am in no mood for your games.”

Seeing you were losing control of him, you kept your voice serene and calm as you stroked the back of his neck with your fingers.

“I did not come to taunt you Ivar.” You said. “It has been a long while since I have felt….well….pleasure. Though I have given you permission to find comfort with Elizabeth, I myself grow anxious for comfort.”

Ivar’s eyes perked up as he brought his face closer to yours. He looked up at you in the same manner he did when he spotted you at Bjorn’s Great Hall.

You had to admit, when he wasn’t raging, Ivar could look at you with great devotion and love. Perhaps Bjorn was correct when he had told you that Ivar loved you more than anything in the entire world.

You pressed your lips to your husband’s own very gently as you cupped his face. As you pulled away, you looked into his blue eyes that were nearly wet with tears. Just like that, Ivar had melted in your hands.

“You know that I love you.” He whispered as he searched your Y/C eyes. “If you really mean it, I wish to come back to lay with you not just for tonight. He paused. “I have not found release elsewhere and you insisting that your sister comfort me is unfair.”

Ivar pulled you closer as he continued to look at you as if he was on the verge of crying.

“I understand and am sorry to have made you feel so.” You replied. “I thought that since other men–.”

“Stop that. How many time must I tell you that I am not like other men!” Ivar snapped. “I want to lay with you, my wife.” He paused. “I want you always with me, do you understand Y/N?”

“Yes.” You soothed him as you gently caressed the prickly hairs of his sideburns.

Ivar leaned forward and gave you a soft peck on your lips.

“Remember, I chose you.” He said. “When you constantly push me away, it wounds me.”

You leaned down and parted Ivar’s lips with yours. It didn’t take him long to become enthralled as he passionately kissed you back. His hands traveled from your waist to your breasts as he gently groped them a little roughly. He then slowly took his lips from yours and slid his tongue down your jawline to your neck. When he found your sensitive spot, on the crook of your neck, he began to give the flesh open mouth kisses and bites. Stopping abruptly, he stood you up from his lap.

“Come, let us go to our chamber.” Ivar said as he tapped you hip.

_____________

In your bed chamber, Ivar was undressed by thralls while you went to your jewelry box. You grabbed one of the small vials your mother had been sending to you with the tincture. Uncorking the tiny silver bottle, you swallowed the contents down quickly.  By you the time got to the side of the bed, Ivar had already tossed all the thralls out of the room. You stood in front of him utterly naked with the exception of tiny silver waist chain that you often wore for vanity purposes.

After looking at you a while, Ivar took your hand and kissed it before pulling you down gently onto the bed. He laid you on your back slowly before rolling on top of you. When he was over you, your husband hovered a moment as he brushed your cheek with the back of his hand.

“I am so happy right now.” He said.

Ivar then leaned down and parted your lips sensually as he took you into a kiss. It was a needy and erotic one as he possessed your lips and tongue with his own. Moving from you lips, he went to your neck as he bit and sucked at the sensitive flesh leaving love bites from your neck to your shoulder. You fought the urge to moan as he positioned his nude body between your legs. As you laid there and allowed him to give you more open mouthed kisses on your neck, he cupped your right breast roughly. Immediately you sensed his excitement was increasing. The manner in which he groped your breast and the way his grinding increased in pace, you knew he would not be doing foreplay much longer.

You could feel Ivar’s erection pressed tightly against your mound as he began to breathe erratically. As you caressed his back, you could practically feel his excitement as heart thumped against you bare breasts. Crashing his lips to yours again, he slipped his hand in-between your bodies and grabbed his member. As his lips devoured yours, he slowly dragged his cock against your opening that was very ready for him. Despite how you felt about Ivar, the things he did always made your body betray you. It was as if your body had a mind of it’s own when it came to responding to your husband’s touch.

“Y/N.” Ivar whispered as his face was hovering over yours. “Open your eyes for me.

As you slowly opened your eyes despite not wanting to, Ivar continued to rub himself against your entrance - you tried your best to think of Hvitserk.

“That is better.” He said as he bit his lip to contain a moan. “Do not take your eyes off me. Alright?”

He gave you another quick kiss on your forehead as he pushed the tip of his member into your hot and slick entrance.

“Gods! I have missed you being in my arms.” He moaned as he gave you another long kiss.

As he was kissing you, Ivar took advantage of that moment to push himself inside you fully. In the midst of kissing him, you moaned into his mouth as the pain and pleasure overtook you. He broke the kiss and looked into your eyes before pressing his forehead to yours.

“That is it Y/N. Keep looking at me.” He said in a hushed tone. “I am going to give you a baby tonight.” He added before planting a kiss to your neck.

Ivar picked up the pace of his thrusting as he rested against your body fully. As he erotically thrust his cock deeply into you, he kissed you passionately. You both became covered in sweat within seconds. Though you tried your best to turn you head from him, your husband was relentless. His deep pounding of your womanhood and his breathless kisses quickly brought the familiar tingling to your pelvis. Intense heat rushed to your walls and clit and your orgasm began to build with sweet aching.

“Hvitserk.” You said in your mind - picturing the golden haired Ragnarsson on top of you.

“Y/N, I’m going to cum for you.” Ivar grunted against you ear.  

As his hips began to move faster, he gripped your waist and placed is face against your cheek. He whimpered things in his native tongue as his orgasm took over his movements. You felt his cock twitch and then felt his hips stutter their pace as he groaned in your ear again. Ivar began pumping his hips frantically as his cock finally erupted within you - sending months of pent up seed deep within you.

The pace and the friction of his thrusts made your orgasm meet his. As you felt yourself go and your weak legs began to shake, you screamed out in ecstasy. It was one of your most intense orgasms ever as you envisioned Hvitserk on top of you instead of Ivar. Your husband’s orgasm lasted longer than yours as he kept thrusting long after your high had washed over you. He finally stopped moving and collapsed on top of you - hair and body wet as if someone had doused him with water.

“I love you Y/N.” He whispered breathlessly before drifting off to sleep.

__________

You were able to convince Ivar to move Hvitserk to his side prior to them leaving for the battle against King Kol Oddsson. Not only did your husband do as you asked willingly, he never questioned your reasoning or your inquisitiveness. He also informed you that after the battle, they were to head immediately into their raiding of the new lands, so you knew you would not see them again for a long while.

During their absence, you fell very ill. At first you ignored it and did your duties as always, hoping it would clear on it’s own. However, a few months later, it was still there and worse than before. You soon became too sick and weak to leave the estate so a healer had to be summoned by a servant to examine you in your chamber.

“You are not ill my dear woman, you are with child.” The excited old healer said as she finished examining you in your chamber. “At least three months along from the looks of it.”

“Tell no one of this!” You angrily demanded.

“Yes, Mistress.” The healer replied with a hint of fear

‘With Child’! The two words echoed in your mind as you began to feel a state of panic you had not felt in a long time. Hvitserk would leave you when he found out that you were carrying Ivar’s child.

How could it be? You had taken your tinctures everyday without fail. The concoction had never failed any woman in your homeland before. In fact, it was so strong that at higher concentrations, it even rendered women permanently infertile. The fact that Ivar had managed to seed you despite this time tested method made your heart sink. You felt as if your God had finally abandoned you for good. To allow you to be seeded by a man such as Ivar was a punishment only God could deliver. Perhaps, you deserved it for getting Herry killed.

Then another thought came to your mind. Your escape! If Ivar was a overly attentive to you now, the addition of a child would make things even worse. How would you be able to sneak out of Kattegat then? You sighed as your laid in your bed with your thoughts racing. How ironic. Despite all your actions, in the end, your husband had gotten his hearts desire. The fact that the men would be returning also crossed your mind. You wondered if you should risk killing the baby in the womb despite the danger to your person.  

There were herbs that could accomplish the task but they were hard to find in Kattegat. The one person you knew that could get them, was your mother. However, she only gave them to Heathen women. She did not assist Christian women in destroying their babies in the womb due to God’s command. Since she was your only option and would never give them willingly,  you had to be stealthy when you went to her home next.

“I will just steal them.” You affirmed to yourself as you yawned.

As your hand traced your stomach, you had an overwhelming desire to runaway with Hvitserk. How much more could you take of being around Ivar, the man who forced you to kill your first love? A man who also seemed intent on reducing your freedom of movement with each passing month. Your husband was controlling and possessive and it had not improved with time. Perhaps the plans that Hvisterk was making could be rushed somehow…you thought  

“I will not be a mother to Ivar’s seed. He is wicked to the core and his children will be no different.” You said to yourself.

________________

“What do you mean?” You shouted at your mother in her living room.

You didn’t know what to do at her revelation. What was a person to do when they had been so betrayed? How could your own mother have put you in such a bad position? As you paced the floor, she watched you with a serene expression. When you had arrived at her home, she knew immediately that you were with child. She stated that it was noticeable due to your face and breasts rounding out. Then she also confessed that she had not been giving you the tincture as you thought.

“Think of it Y/N, you have not been fair to any of us. Every one of your actions results in other people getting hurt. These games you play with your insane husband had to come to an end eventually. I do not like him anymore than you do but we are stuck. The sooner you learn to adjust and accept it, the better it will be for everyone.”

“You lied to me mother!” You screamed. “You told me you were giving me what I asked for and now look at me. Nearly four months along with a evil man’s child!”

“I’m sorry I tricked dear you but it was the only way. Your decision making is getting people hurt. Look at what happened to poor Herry.”

“Don’t you dare bring up his name you……you witch!” You seethed as tears fell. “He was my heart and I would have done anything to prevent what happened if I could have. How dare you? You are a cruel woman and I do not ever wish to see you again. Do you hear me? Never!”

With that you stormed out of your mother’s home determined to cut her out of your life. She had only pretended to understand your need for the contraceptive tinctures. Every last one of the vials she had been sending her thrall to deliver merely contained a wellness concoction. It was her fault you were now with child for a man you wanted to kill half the time. No matter, you would figure things out on your own.

_______________

Over the next few weeks you tried everything to get the child out of your body. Since you could not gain help from your mother nor go to any healers, you tried your own remedies. You first tried to throw yourself down some stairs - which only resulted in a very bruised body and a sprained wrist. The next thing you attempted was to find Pennyroyal leaves on Ivar’s massive property. Though you lucked out and found some, it was a highly dangerous and toxic plant. The wrong dosage and you would die right along with the baby in your womb.

Still, you risked it. Unfortunately, all you earned for your careful dosing was two weeks in bed with a fever, cramps, fatigue and light bleeding from your private area. When the bleeding had occurred, you were initially very happy because you thought for certain that the baby would pass out of your body. However, the bleeding lasted only three days and stopped without anything else occurring.

While you were you were still recovering in bed, Ivar and the other men all returned to Kattegat. When he did not see you come to greet him at the docks, he was beyond livid. Despite his servants and thralls trying to speak to him, he shut them all down. Your husband returned to the estate in a violent mood as he set off looking for you. Finally, the eldest of his servants was able to calm him and finally get him to listen to what was occurring. All anyone knew was that you were sick and being cared for by healers, so that is what she told Ivar.

You had made sure that the healers kept their mouths shut and the two thralls who attended you in the chamber were threatened to keep quiet as well. A very concerned Ivar burst through the doors of your chambers without first taking his bath or eating.

“What is the matter with my wife?” He demanded

The healer that had been asleep by your side, rubbed his eyes and asked your husband to calm himself.

“Prince Ivar welcome. I have been caring for your wife due to her having severe symptoms. She is with child you see and it seems–”

Ivar’s blue eyes widened. He grabbed hold of the man’s tunic tightly as he tried to absorb the words.

“Say that again.” Ivar demanded.

“Your wife, she is with child. She has been suffering great maladies and other symptoms but other than that, she is well.”

Ivar rushed to your side as you slept and gazed at you with overwhelming happiness washing over him. He gently lifted the furs that were on you to get a better look at your form. As his eyes beheld your belly, that was quite rounded since you were nearing five months, Ivar’s eyes welled with tears. He then glanced at your face, which appeared peaceful in your slumbering state, before he got on the bed beside you. Your husband cuddled close to you and remained there a while, caressing you while you slept.

_____________

Three weeks later, you found yourself trying to not lose yet another good man. Hvitserk was enraged as you expected and not willing to be around you any longer.

“I will not come around you again and I want you to avoid me as well.” An angry Hvitserk said as the two of you stood in the courtyard

He had packed all his things from Ivar’s estate and was planning to spend his time in Ubbe and Torvi’s home. Since his home was being renovated, he would be at his elder brother’s place a good while.

“Please believe me when I say it is not wanted nor was it intentional.” You said with desperation.

Hvitserk glanced at you with fury in his eyes for a short moment before throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

No matter how much you asked him to calm down and look at you, he would not. He shook his head and refused to stand still. Even when you begged, he would not look you in the eyes again as he clenched his teeth and paced.

“I do not wish to listen to your stories any further. Why I am even here right now…I do not even know.”

“Hvitty, please.” You said on the verge of tears. “I did not mean for any of this to happen. My mother she–”

“I do not care for your excuses Y/N.” He interrupted. “You have hurt me more than I even care to say. Just stay with your husband! It is where you belong now. I must move on with my life and find a woman who can make me happy. You are surely not that person from what I can see.”

The words cut like a knife as you stood in front of the man you cared for whilst with child for his brother that you hated. It was a pathetic situation and you wished you had powers to change it all.

“Goodbye Y/N.” Hvisterk said without looking at you. “I will try to avoid you at all cost. Please do not make a scene by attempting to speak to me anytime we meet at events. When we gather as a family, I will keep my words short and curteous.”

With that, Hvitserk left you alone in the courtyard without a formal goodbye or even a second glance.

_____________

Ivar’s child would not be contained any longer. As you laid on your back trying to find comfort in your prayer, you could feel the tension in your hips and pelvic region as your contractions got closer together. Your heart raced as if you had just finished sprinting from one side of Kattegat to the other. Truly the pain was making it quite difficult to catch your breath as the midwives kept ordering you to breathe better.

“Breathe better? How the hell am I supposed to do that when I am in so much pain?”You thought as you cursed the women in your mind.

As sweat drenched your body, you realized that it was going to be a very difficult delivery, despite never birthing a child before. Ivar burst into the room upon his crutch and stood by one of the midwives for a moment. He felt guilt as he looked at you and realized how much discomfort you were in - your white gown practically see through from all your sweating.

Without hesitating further, he sat beside you on the bed and placed down his crutch. As you sat up with your legs wide open, you grunted as a wave of pain took over you for what seemed like an eternity. You turned and glanced at Ivar. If you had been yourself, you would have told him to sit in the chair but you were in too much pain to fuss with anyone. You could not believe that some women went through such pain ten or more times. This was your first and you wanted to rip the skin off your own thighs just to take your attention of the pain coming form between your legs. Even your back hurt as if someone had kicked you ferociously.

Ivar positioned you in front of him with no resistance from coming from you. You just wanted the baby to come out so you could have some relief. Finally, one of the midwives took a look under the linen sheet they had placed over your lower body for modesty.

“It looks like you will be ready to push soon.” She said as she smiled at you.

With that, she spread your legs apart, as wide as she could get them and placed a hand at the bottom of your opening. Feeling around, she looked up at you and smiled.

“The head has crowned. With three to five good pushed, you ought to work it out in no time.”

Ivar smiled at the news and kissed your sweat soaked cheek. However, you were too engrossed in your pain to even notice. You felt the worst amount of pain and burning coming from your private area as the baby’s head stretched your entrance to it’s limits. It was as if someone was holding both sides of your vagina and attempting to pull it in opposite directions.

“It hurts too much!” You shouted.

But you were in too much pain. No one heard a thing except a string of jumbled words that made no sense. Ivar held you close as you leaned against his chest, tossing your head from one side to the next as the pain became worse. The midwives would not allow you to push until they were ready and it was taking all your willpower to listen to them. Your mother suddenly entered with Elizabeth in tow. Grabbing a clean cloth, your mother took a seat beside you on the bed and began wiping your face. As she did so, you made sure to shoot her a glare, pain or not.

After all, it was her fault you were in the position you were in in first place. Her tricking you was wicked enough but to refuse to help you terminate the baby was even worse. She had forced your hand and you did not appreciate it at all.

“Why are you here?” You angrily snapped in-between the bouts of pain. “Get out!”

“She is your mother Y/N.” Ivar said as he tried to calm you.

“Mother, I want you to get out before I–.”

A massive sharp pain hit you and your words caught in your throat. Just then, someone you never expected to see again entered. Hvitserk walked in despite two female thralls attempting to stop him. His eyes went wide when he saw you and the state you were in. Without a word to anyone, he knelt at your bedside and took your hand in his. You could not believe that he was there in the flesh. After what he had said when you last saw him in the courtyard, you were certain that he hated you.

“What is the matter with her?” A worried Hvitserk asked Ivar. “She appears too weak.”

Your husband, who was scared despite giving the appearance of being calm, looked at his brother with helplessness.

“They will not let her push yet.” He replied.

“May I sit there?” Hvitserk motioned to your mother.

Your mother reluctantly gave up her position beside you in the bed to the worried Ragnarsson. Hvitserk sat beside you straightaway - not caring what Ivar would say or think. Luckily, the stress of the moment actually made your husband more open to having his elder brother around. He feared that you were dying based on your groans and weakening physical state.

“When will you let her push it out?” Ivar asked with concern. “She grows weaker by the minute.” He added nervously.

Hvitserk’s mind raced. If you were to die childbirth, he would never be able to forgive his brother. He knew that you never wanted to have children with Ivar and this was most likely the worst moment of your life. Soothing your head against his shoulder, Hvitserk whispered to you.

“Forgive me.” He said. “Please survive this so we can leave.”

“Okay Mistress, let us try to push this eager baby out.” One of the midwives finally announced loudly as she took her place in-between your legs.

Lifting the sheet, she spread your weak legs wider as you grabbed onto Hvitserk’s hand tightly. Ivar glanced at you and took your other hand. He knew you two were still not close despite you being with child, but he believed that once you saw the baby, things would change.

“Would you look at that. The head is nearly out on it’s own. It should take only a few pushes to get this little one free.” Another midwife said as she looked over the other’s shoulder.  

“Why is there so much blood?” A worried Hvitserk asked as he saw some thralls taking away red stained cloths. “Hey! I am asking you question!” He seethed at the women.

“Calm yourself young Master.” The midwife between your legs said. “It is normal for some women to bleed excessively. She will be fine.”

Hvtiserk did not like her response but relented. He focused on comforting you instead. As he brushed your sweaty forehead with his hand, the elder Ragnarsson gazed at your pained expression. Ivar, who was also sat at your other side pressed his face to yours.

“Come on Y/N.” He said with his lips against your cheek. “You are stronger than even some of the men I know. You cannot not die on me. Please.”

At that moment, Ivar cared more about you leaving him alone in the world than he cared about becoming a father. The thought of you dying was more than he could handle. It frightened him so much that he was relieved that Hvitserk had arrived to share the burden. If not, he would have lost it in front of everyone long ago.

When the midwives finally told you to push, you thought you would not be able to do so, however, your body seemed to work on instinct. The moment you bared down, your muscles and nerves kept the rhythmic contractions going. After the third push, the baby’s head finally hung from your opening.

“Hey! There we are.” The midwife exclaimed. “What a great deal of hair this one has. And as black as a raven’s wing to boot.” The woman added with a laugh.

She then made sure the cord was not around the baby’s neck while you rested. The pain in your body eased a little now that the head had come out. Still you were eager to get it over with. You hated your mother for putting you in the situation and glared at her while she watched nervously over the midwife’s shoulders. As for Elizabeth, she appeared happy, however, she kept stealing glances at Ivar. Despite him rejecting her, your sister still harbored feelings towards him which made the moment that more difficult for her to witness.

After allowing you to rest a while longer, the women instructed you to push again. With five good pushes and Hvitserk practically taking over in encouraging and comforting you the entire time,….everyone finally heard it. Ivar’s child came into the world with a powerful cry that filled the room. He pulled your body to him and held you close as his eyes welled with tears. He could not believe it. The baby that boasted powerful lungs and seemed to please the midwives, was his. All his life the Gods had denied him so much but in that moment, he felt as if he could fight a thousand wars for them on his own.

“Be careful of how you take hold of Y/N. She is in a weakened state and still has more to do.” Hvisterk said as he took you from Ivar and rested your head against his chest.

“Of course.” Ivar replied with his eyes still beholding you with admiration.

“It’s a Princess for your two.” One of the midwives announced.

Ivar was elated as he looked at his brother with his excitement building. Hvitserk smiled and then looked down at you. He wasn’t sure if you had heard the woman but in that moment, he resolved to stick by your side. True, he had been furious with you, but now, none of it mattered. Hvisterk just wanted Ivar out of the picture so that the two of you could be happy. Surprisingly, when the flaxen haired Ragnarsson kissed your forehead, Ivar didn’t get upset. He actually smiled at his elder brother assuming that he was happy for the both of you.

The newborn was set upon a table so the midwives could look it over for any defects.

Ivar suddenly became afraid. His expression changed as he nervously held your hand and glanced to the floor. ‘I’m a cripple. Why did I not think about that fact all this while? He thought to himself. The thing he feared most was punishing a child to go through what he had. Ivar did not want his daughter to be like him and prayed that the Gods did not curse her with his affliction. As for your mother, despite your anger towards her, she put her hand to her mouth as she shed tears of joy at seeing her new grandchild. Utterly soaked in sweat, you were nearly asleep as you rested against Hvitserk, who rocked you gently. Ivar leaned over and kissed your cheek - excitement literately emanating from his very being. The midwife was headed towards him and he could barely contain himself. Ivar was apprehensive at first, but the woman reassured him before she carefully placed the newborn into his trembling hands.

“Meet your newborn daughter.” The old midwife said. “She is a beauty, if I have ever seen one. Strong like an ox too.”

“So she….she is healthy?” He asked with great concern upon his face.

“Not only is she healthy…..she is practically perfect.” The midwife assured him with a wink.

Ivar was relieved and awestruck as he stared at the tiny baby in his arms.

“I cannot believe how small she is.” He exclaimed as he admired her.

Ivar truly felt as if he was dreaming as he glanced over at your weakened frame for a moment. Taking the cord that still connected you and the crying little bundle in his arms, he bit through, severing it. Your husband then spit the blood onto the floor, as was Viking practice. He held his daughter close to his chest and ensured that the swaddling sheets were keeping her warm.

“Look at our daughter Y/N.” He beamed as he leaned closer to you. “She is so beautiful and amazing…like you.” Ivar said before planting a kiss upon your cheek.

You looked at the baby with eyes that were heavy with sleep. You could not believe that the child in Ivar’s arms was yours. It made the moment bittersweet as you tried your best to feel something for the innocent life. But as you glanced at Ivar, you knew the child could never grow into anything good. As you drifted off to sleep, Hvitserk glared at Ivar as he caressed your sweaty forehead. No matter what, he was determined more than ever to take you far away from Kattegat so you two could finally be free of his brother.

______________

People stopped and stared when they spotted Ivar the Boneless riding his horse drawn chariot swiftly through Kattegat. Utterly beside himself with joy, he had left you and his newborn daughter sleeping peacefully back home. Much too happy with his life to sit still, he guided his white horse at top speed while he screamed at the top of his lungs in celebration. He finally had what he had longed for - a happy family of his own.

[mysteryoflovemyway]

Later Still

And here is some more of my CMBYN fic! Read a little background on the story and the first part here! Hope you enjoy - I will be posting more later on this week sometime :) 

“Your parents are so nice,” Jenny comments as Oliver continues droning on to Mafalda, ignoring us—ignoring me—so blatantly I almost consider yelling right in his face. But I don’t, looking at her with as much honest interest as I can muster. “Are they not joining us?”

They had been the ones to greet Oliver and Jenny at the door. They hadn’t bothered to tell me we would have visitors—these very specific visitors—maybe for better, but probably and most likely for the worse. It was much worse coming downstairs for lunch with my parents and finding my Oliver standing in the foyer with a girl that could have only been brought here by him. To see my mother and my father move away, to flee into the kitchen so swiftly, leaving too much space for me to fill up with uncertain steps and deep breaths and no words that actually held a million. Oliver had cut right to the chase, leading Jenny out to the back patio. I had trailed along like a begging puppy, catching a glimpse of my parents talking with their backs to us.

“They wouldn’t miss a date with la movie star,” I answer with a smirk that creases sad around the edges.

“My mother’s very endearing term for Oliver,” I say, offhanded, when she offers a polite but impersonal chuckle. She looks at him again, as do I, and I know he has grown even more into the la movie star persona without me.

Jenny tugs at the hem of her a dress, no doubt a nervous tick that Oliver finds charming. Her eyes scan the peach, apricot, and cherry trees surrounding us. “I wish I could have grown up in a place like this.”

“And where did you grow up?” I ask, not because I want to know, but because I want him to see me making an effort to know her. I want him to see everything.

Mafalda has retreated back inside by now and Oliver swivels back toward us, his golden hair catching the slight breeze. I am entranced and repulsed, all at the same time, remembering my hands in that hair, my fingers curling softly into his scalp. He closes his eyes for a moment and I know he’s remembering it just the same.

“Upstate New York, nothing special,” Jenny has said, though it doesn’t register until a few too many seconds have passed. Oliver opens his eyes and mine snap back to her gaze as it rests easily on me. She has beautiful owl-like eyes, big and wandering, and I wonder if the longing in mine reflects back at her as painfully as it does inside myself. If it does, she doesn’t acknowledge it, doesn’t understand it—could never understand it. No one could but him.

“She’s modest,” Oliver muses. He runs his hand down the length of her arm and I itch to grab it away and hold it to my skin instead. “She grew up with Kennedys and Vanderbilts and the like. A real New England catch.”

“Hardly.” She blushes. “I’m not some blue blood, old money debutante. I don’t even own a white dress or boat shoes, I swear. Don’t listen to him, Elio.”

“Oh, I never listen to him,” I tell her and this time I stare right into his eyes. I feel my face grow hot once again but he is the first to break my gaze. I look away, too, as my parents grace us with their long awaited presence on the terrace. I sit between my mother and Oliver, unsure whether I want to kill or be killed by him at any given moment over the next hour or so. I cannot stand so much time together with all of them, all so together that even a stolen glance will be nothing. Not with her right there. Not with that ring right there. Not with Oliver absolutely slaughtering every memory I have of him with bright hot rage. I am so mad at him that it makes me want him even more, so close, so much, so everything. I want his everything that somehow belongs to her in a way she doesn’t even know. How could she ever know?

How could anyone ever know?

“What do you do, Jennifer?” my mother asks then, gesturing with her fork when our plates have been set before us. She could have asked her more but I have little attention toward anyone but Oliver. “Something with publishing, yes?”

“Jenny, please.” She blushes and takes a tiny bite of pasta, barely coiling it around her fork, so American. “And yes, I work in advertising for Random House.”

I tune out their conversation immediately when Oliver speaks, his face leaning toward my father’s, away from mine. I inch closer, if only to show Oliver that I am never not listening to him.

“Where’s the me of this summer?” he asks my father with a glance around the table as if he will find the answer between the basket of fresh olive bread and the bottle of red wine. “I hadn’t heard who you had chosen. Or perhaps my opinion didn’t matter in the selection process.” At this, his eyes find mine and he laughs into his chest like it’s a secret.

God, that laugh. I could spend hours wrapped inside it.

My father laughs too. “You left us with quite a good pool of successors to pick through. I think you’ll be happy to hear who we chose—Pauline Bethesda. She was two years behind you, I believe. She arrives in three weeks.”

Oliver nods slowly with a broad smile. “Pauline’s a good one, Pro. She’ll do swimmingly, I’m sure of it.”

“Swimmingly?” I poke into their exchange while taking a long sip of my wine—which Oliver definitely notices. “Where does a word like that come from?”

“Not apricot all over again. You’ve got Elio in on it now, huh, Pro?” Oliver sighs but below the table his foot nudges mine and my body goes stiff, and then numb with recollected pleasure, though I am still mad at him.

“Elio’s mind has grown as much as yours has in a year, Oliver,” my father says without any knowledge of what has just occurred, though he could easily infer. “He graduated with honors and is off to university in the fall.”

Oliver finally manages to turn and face me fully, impressed at the very least. “That’s right. And you’ll be studying—No, let me guess—literature.”

He beams, too bright and too perfect and too everything—too Oliver. And I become too Elio, unable to be all that mad at him when he does that. Unable to do anything but nod because the words I have are all for him, and only him, and do not come when he beckons them. Because my words, his words, our words only exist when it is just us two. I don’t know when it will be just us two again. Minutes, hours, days—I can only nod until then.

I am near silent the rest of lunch, caught between stealing long glances at Oliver and agreeing with my mother as she drones on about my senior year. Embarrassment creeps into my face on every other word as she lists my achievements and accolades, which are not lost on Oliver. We had spoken on the phone, three months ago, briefly, and I had told him that one of my essays had been chosen to be sent off to an American literary magazine based out of Washington, D.C. He had never heard of the magazine, but promised he would seek out a copy for me. We had talked then like distant friends, no mention of his visit, and it is only now that I wish I hadn’t lumped that conversation into the others. Now I only remembered a few details, mainly because it hadn’t seemed important at the time. More of an obligation of his, to check up every once and a while, to confer with my parents. To prove to me that he still went about living without me. That I was just a small part of his life, and not the all-consuming entirety of it that he was to mine.

Mafalda clears the table sometime later, when my parents have moved over by the pool, smoking cigarettes and reading. When Jenny excuses herself to the bathroom. When it’s been two excruciating minutes and Oliver suggests, loud enough for my parents to hear, that I show him what new project Anchise has taken to down by the river. My father takes off his glasses, pretending—or not—to not notice as we get up from the table and walk, strides matching, around the side of the house. Away from them, and everyone else. Alone.

We walk several steps in quiet and I make a point to stop when we near the gate, the road, everywhere beyond. Everywhere that I showed him. Everywhere that holds a piece of him and me, of us.

He clears his throat, arching his neck up toward the sky. “I’ve missed you,” he tells me. His eyes are squinted, still looking up toward the sun, his sunglasses useless as they hang from his shirt collar. His fingers curl at his sides.

“Have you?”

I am tempted to touch him, every part of him. To lose myself in his oasis. But something stops me—Jenny, footsteps echoing across the front porch. Hair pulled back and a canvas tote bag swinging from the crook of her elbow. Oliver slips on his sunglasses then and looks to her, all but dismissing me in the wake of her unwanted yet unavoidable interruption.

“You’re not going off to explore without me, are you?” She smiles and grabs Oliver’s hand. “Do we drive?”

They both look to me and I stagger backwards as if such a question has forced a bullet in my chest. Oliver knows much better.

“Americanos,” I mutter, making sure they hear me as I turn back for the bikes. They both laugh loudly, vibrating across the lawn, though Oliver’s is the only one I hear.

When I push over two bikes for them and go back for a third for myself, his laugh continues to rush through me, despite the easy peacefulness surrounding us as we climb on and head out through the front gate. I, in front, and Oliver in back. Miles and miles between us. I don’t know if we’ll ever truly be close again.

“To the bookstore, Elio,” he calls out when we reach the piazza.

Again, his later stills in my mind.

To the bookstore, Elio. Later.

To everywhere and nowhere, Oliver. To anywhere—only with you, I would say back.

Only you.

#cmbyn #call me by your name #cmbyn fic #cmbyn fanfic #cmbyn fandom #cmbyn spoilers #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #writing #read #my writing #mine #elio x oliver #elio #oliver #elio perlman #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #armie hammer #luca guadagnino #andré aciman #italy #summer #text #writing post #later #writers of tumblr #later still

[puppetmaker40]

All that Glitters (Part the First)

My gift for this years Rumbelle Secret Santa was @cosmicstarlux. 

I am awaiting my beta to return the rest of it later today but I didn’t want to leave my giftee in the dark without any sort of present. So I decided to put this up so they can have at least a taste of what is to come.

My prompts were :Hogwats Au / Professor / Student / Jealousy

I give you “All that Glitters” Part the first.

Belle French was glad to be back in her dorm room at Hogwarts. It had been a long two years that she had been unable to attending. First year had been taking care of her mother while she succumbed to a curse that wasted her mother to nothing. Literarily nothing. There was nothing to bury but her memories. Right after that she developed at case of Dragon Pox that had Belle in St. Murgo’s for almost a year before she was cured. The rest of the time was recovering from such a long illness.

But she was back and at least she knew her roommates although not well since at the time they were two years behind her. 

She had tried to keep up with her studies and, for the most part, she had. The problem came in the practical application as she hadn’t really been able to do. She needed one more year to finish her final exams and do all lab work that she missed. 

A note appeared in front of her from the headmaster summoning her to his office.

She sighed and wondered what new obstacle would be put into her path to graduation. 

She went to her wardrobe and pulled out her school robes that now hung on her since she had lost so much weight while ill. She resisted scratching the patches of skin that never quite recovered from the Dragon Pox. She thanked her lucky stars that all of these rough scaly pieces could be easily hidden as long as she wore long sleeves. She straightened her black and gold tie and made sure the rest of her uniform was clean and tidy.

She said to her image in the mirror, “We can do this.” She could swear her image nodded back.

Belle found her way to the headmaster’s office without too much trouble. It was if the castle was taking sympathy for her weakened condition.

She knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came that voice that had terrorized her in her dreams.

“Headmaster, you wished to see me?” she asked as she entered his office. 

“Yes Miss French, please sit down,” said Headmaster Phineas Black.

She did as asked in the stiff high back wood chair where there was no way to be comfortable. She and others assumed he did this on purpose.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She was taken a back. He was inquiring to her health? What had happened in the past two years?

“Fine Sir,” she replied, “There are few after effects from my illness.”

He gave a grunt in acknowledgement of her words.

“I have been going over your studies and what you did while you were away. For the most part you have managed to keep up and if you work hard, I believe that you will graduate this year.”

She could hear the ‘but’ hanging in the air. 

“However there something I need you to do to complete your studies with the accolades that you deserve.”

“Sir?” 

“I am making you the student assistant to the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“What happened to Mr. Linus?”

“Eaten apparently while he was off observing dragons.”

Dragons were Mr. Linus’ hobby and his passion. She was a little surprised that he, who had been so careful and taught them the same, had been eaten but it did happen.

“Of course Sir. I am happy to help anyway I can.”

“Good. Go present yourself to Rumplestilskin as his new student assistant.” 

“The Dark One?!?!?” the phrase exploded from her mouth before she could suppress it.

“Is there a problem Miss French?”

“Sir, you hired the Dark One. One of the most cursed individuals in the universe to be the defense against the dark arts teacher?” She figured in for a penny in for a pound.

“Who better to get you all ready for the realities of the world outside these walls.” 

He waved his hand in dismissal. She sat in the chair stunned at the news. 

“Do you have another question?” he asked with a tone that informed her that this one was going to cost her in the long run.

“Am I your first choice?” she asked. 

He sighed and said, “No. You are not but you are my last hope in this matter. You are one of the few students in this school that know the history of the Dark One.”

She nodded.

“I believe you know the way to your assignment. And Miss French, if he puts a toe out of line you will inform me and only me. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes Sir,” she said as she got up and left the room.

She worked her way to the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom. Her mind was spinning with the news that the Dark One had found a teaching position at Hogwarts. 

She knocked at the classroom door and received no answer. She debated whether or not to enter the room.

The choice was taken from her when the door abruptly opened and she found herself staring into the gold colored eyes of the Dark One. 

“Let me guess,” he said with annoyance, “You are the next one he has sent to ‘help’ me.” 

“Yes sir, I am your assistant this marking period.”

He looked her over, “You are older than the others. Why are you still here in school? Flunk your OWLs? Did he decide to see if I will work with the village idiot?”

She opened and then closed her mouth.

“Ah idiot,” he said with a giggle.

It was the giggle that did it and broke something inside of her that caused her mouth to speak before she could think.

“How dare you!!?!? If you must know I have been on medical leave for the past two years and trying my hardest to keep up for not being here. The first year I missed, I have had to watch my mother waste away to nothing and then I spend the second year wondering if I was going to live to see another year at Hogwarts or my father would have to bury what was left of me which might be slightly better for him then having nothing to bury at all.”

He looked ashamed and stepped out of the door while gesturing for her to enter. 

She stepped into the classroom.

#Rumbelle Secret Santa #cosmicstarlux