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free-pool-trash · 4 years ago

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happiness - peter maximoff

yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻

!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!

word count: 5k <3 😳

warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is

feedback is appreciated <3

tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)

masterlist

haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

& there is happiness

Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.

He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.

Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?

It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.

And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.

Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.

Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.

His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.

He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.

When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.

It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.

That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.

You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.

That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.

As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.

Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.

Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.

But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.

“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.

He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.

With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.

It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.

“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.

The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.

What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.

There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.

Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.

You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.

In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.

As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”

The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.

Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.

While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.

“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.

For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.

He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.

If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.

If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.

You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.

“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.

“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.

In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.

“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.

Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.

His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.

As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.

Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.

Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.

You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.

However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.

Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.

You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.

With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.

“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.

Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.

It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.

You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.

“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.

“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.

“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.

“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.

“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.

“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.

“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.

Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.

Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”

Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.

“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.

“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.

You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”

Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”

“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.

Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”

A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.

“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.

“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.

“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.

“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.

Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”

Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.

You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.

“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.

Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.

“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.

A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.

“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.

“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.

You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”

“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.

“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.

His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”

Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.

It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.

Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.

His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.

With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #x men x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #mcu #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader

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manonblaqkbeak · 4 years ago

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Family Time

good morning/afternoon/evening/night. hope you’re all doing well and staying safe!!!! i have a rowaelin fic that i wanted to post before rowaelin month started since im focusing on those prompts atm

i cant wait to see what everyone has in store for rowaelin month, im very much looking forward to it!

enjoy! :)

1835 words

The day that Aelin had been looking forward to was finally here.

She and Rowan were going to spend a week in their spot in the forest. A week was longer than usual, but it was much needed. Not only had she and Rowan been working extremely hard to the point where they weren't going to bed until the middle of the night, his family was arriving to Orynth to visit for a few weeks in a week and a half.

And not just a few members of his family, almost the entire Whitethorn family was coming, with the exception of a few—namely Sellene, who would be gifting them with personal letters and presents, and those that were too old or just didn't feel like making such a long journey.

Aelin was looking forward to it, to meeting those she hadn't, to hearing others perspectives on Rowan's childhood. Her mate, however...not so much. Rowan was looking forward to catching up with the cousins that he liked, but not so much for the meddlesome ones. He warned her that whatever secrets that people were hiding wouldn't be secrets anymore, that the nosy ones liked to make a game to see who could learn the most secrets.

Aelin admitted that could be a problem, but in his letter, Enda claimed that everyone would be on their best behaviour.

Rowan wasn't entirely convinced. And not just because of that, he was worried that the conversation of when Aelin and Rowan were going to have children was going to be brought up as Rowan had written that they were forbidden from doing so.

Months ago, only several weeks after the war, after a meeting with the Lords and Ladies of Terrasen, Aelin and Rowan came to the decision to wait for a while to have children after Lord Gunnar had brought up the topic of heirs. Aelin could still remember the silence, at her speechlessness of how suddenly it was mentioned. How Rowan had turned to Lord Gunnar and demanded not just to him, but to everyone around them, that it was a private matter between the Queen and himself, and that it was not up for public discussion.

It wasn't a very long conversation—they both wanted to have a family, but Aelin wasn't ready. She was having nightmares from her time with Maeve and Cairn, and throwing pregnancy in the mix just screamed disastrous.

Rowan took her hands in his large warm ones and promised that he would wait for as long as she wanted. Whether it was one year, five years, or one hundred, he would wait until she was ready and willing.

Aelin had never loved him more.

Since then, Rowan was taking a contraceptive tonic. It hadn't taken very long for it to spread around the castle, but neither Aelin or Rowan would let others opinions change their minds.

And it wasn't like they were completely without family. They had their friends and Fleetfoot, with the canine joining them on their week long getaway.

Aelin and Rowan helped the servants set up the Royal tent and the square wooden table where they would be eating and playing chess and card games. There were a few books that Aelin was very much looking forward to reading, too.

Aelin was excited for this week away, to forgo her corsets, dresses, pants and breast-bands. She was determined to stay in Rowan's shirts and her slippers the entire time.

So the moment that everything was set up, the trays of sweet and savoury foods on the table, and the servants and guards were gone, Aelin stripped down to nothing, swaying her hips the way that Rowan liked when she spotted him drinking her in and slipped on one of his shirts and put on her well loved slippers.

Grabbing the picnic blanket from one of the chests, Aelin turned to see Fleetfoot sniffing hungrily at the trays of food, moving closer with each second that passed. Just as she was about to inhale the food, Rowan took the pup out of her misery and feed her a handful of sliced fermented sausage.

Aelin smiled at the sight. Rowan might grumble about the mess Fleetfoot made and how she kept slobbering on his pillow but Aelin knew he loved her—even when she ate his socks.

Aelin set up the blanket and pillows against a thick oak tree, ready for her week of relaxation.

X X X X X X

Aelin's stomach was near to bursting. She hadn't intended to eat that much food, since there was a leg of lamb and chopped root vegetables roasting in the cauldron above the fire, but everything was just too good to have just the once. She ate and ate until there was nothing but crumbs left.

She didn't regret it, however.

She was close to sleeping as Rowan ran a free hand through her scalp as he used the other to read. Her head was on his lap, the sun was warm, and from the happy yips that were coming from the woods, Fleetfoot was having a fun time running around.

Aelin glanced at her husband, his face relaxed as he read his book. And she had no idea why, but she found herself saying: “What would you look like with a beard?”

Rowan blinked, the only surprise he'd show at the question. “Like an old man,” he answered after a moment.

“You are an old man.”

He flicked her ear, and then went back to running his fingers through her scalp. “I grew a beard, once, when I was young. I looked like my father.”

“So you looked very handsome, then.” Rowan had taken up sketching in the quiet moments. He had drawn his parents and they were a very attractive couple. Rowan inherited his fathers hair, eyes, nose and sharp jawline, but got his mother's lips, cheekbones and eyebrows.

They had died long ago, but Aelin would have liked to have met them. Rowan said that they would have liked her, eventually, as he believed that they wouldn't have known what to do with her at first.

Aelin gave Rowan a big smile as the question formed in her mind. And since Rowan knew her so well, he said, “No.”

“You don't even know what I was going to say!” She protested, but it was a lie.

“I am not growing a beard.”

“Please, for me? Just a little one?”

“No.”

“How about some stubble?”

He sighed, exasperated, knowing that there was no point in arguing. “Fine. I'll grow some stubble and that's it.”

“Mm-hmm. Whatever you say, buzzard.”

He sighed again, but there was a small smile on his lips. He returned to his book, and telling her what it was about when Aelin asked. It made her heart swell that her warrior found time to read, as he admitted to her months ago that he never really had the opportunity when he was sworn to Maeve.

Not wanting to ruin today with thoughts of her, Aelin grabbed her own book by her pillow and read, luxuriating in Rowan's warmth and love and in the company of a good book.

X X X X X X

Aelin was losing, but she made sure that the irritation that was coursing through her didn't show on her face. Playing chess with an experience strategist was an absurd idea, but she was determined not to quit.

Rowan had been wanting for her to make her move. Had been waiting for fifteen minutes. Fleetfoot was by her feet, but she was just waiting for the roast lamb to be done.

Five minutes later, Aelin finally made her move. Her eyes flicked up towards Rowan, but his face was stone. He made his move in a blink of an eye. “Checkmate.”

Fire coated her throat as Aelin screeched in frustration, which just made Rowan laugh. Fleetfoot howled and ran off.

Aelin grumbled under her breath as she put away the chess board (for now, they would definitely be playing again once Aelin had more food in her stomach) while Rowan put their dinner on the plates, smiling all the while. Behind him, his mate vowed that she would beat him one day at chess. His smile widened.

Rowan knew that if he said he could beat her even with a blind-fold on, she would go on about how big his head was.

Fleetfoot came back, getting in the way of his feet as he put his and Aelin's dinner down. He gave Fleetfoot the plate reserved for her, using his powers to cool it down, not missing Aelin's soft smile as he did so.

They ate dinner in companionable silence, with Rowan's thoughts on his cousins. He was sure that he wasn't going to get a single thing done while they were visiting. Or if he did, he knew that some of his cousins would want to intrude.

Thinking about it more, he knew that they were going to intrude. Enda had written in-between the lines that there were some cousins that didn't really believe that Rowan was King-Consort and would only believe it once they saw him in action.

That they would actually believe once they saw him in his crown.

And even then, he was sure that there'd be at least one or two that still wouldn't believe it.

Rowan would let them think whatever they wanted about him, it wouldn't matter to him.

Maybe he should have just invited Enda and his mate—but Aelin was looking forward to meeting his family, so he would just deal with it.

It would only be a couple of weeks, possibly three. At best, four, since it was a long journey. He could last.

Rowan could do it, he would just have to block them out if they became too much. He had done that in the past.

“If you keep furrowing your brows like that, they'll replace your eyes,” Aelin said, slathering a fresh slice of bread with butter and running it through the left over gravy on her plate.

Rowan grunted but tried to relax his forehead. It took him a minute longer than it should have.

Later on, they went for a late night swim. Which was slowly turning into something more, up until Fleetfoot jumped into the water with them, saturating them further.

It was the best first day that Aelin could have asked for, and was very much looking forward to the rest of the week.

X X X X X X

Aelin woke up to one of her favourite sights. Rowan shirtless, sleeping on his stomach, his tattooed arm curled around Fleetfoot who slept between them all night. The hounds golden head half on Rowan's pillow, her paws stretching towards Aelin, her furry face soft in sleep.

Smiling, Aelin shuffled closer, and wrapped her own arms around the pup, her fingers just touching Rowan.

Joyful, Aelin fell back asleep, a smile still on her face.

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction

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oddaodd · 5 years ago

Text

Her Eyes

· Tommy Shelby arranged marriage imagine ·

warnings : arranged marriage.

(Heapings of fluff and a pinch of angst if you squint)

Y/n never imagined her family would have the nerve to marry her off as part of a deal between the one Thomas Shelby and her father, who had insisted that he couldn’t properly trust the Shelbys if they weren’t united as a family, but there she was, standing outside the church ready to meet the man she would spend the rest of her life with. Her father was a powerful man with many important connections and despite Thomas’s desire to never marry again after grace, he found himself having to accept to the deal. When he fist saw her, scarcely some hours before their wedding, he was intrigued by her beauty and kind eyes, but he put on a nonchalant facade as he introduced himself to the woman whom he would have to live till death do them part.

“Thomas Shelby” he outstretched his hand.

She stared at him for a bit “y/n” was all she managed to say as his rough hand wrapped around her soft one with a firm shake. There was something about him, almost like dream she couldn’t quite place. He was a very alluring, almost hypnotic man and she felt oddly drawn to him just a few seconds after first laying eyes on him.

“Lets get this over with, shall we?” He monotonously said, breaking her out of her reverie before stepping into the church.

The first few months were really hard because Thomas refused to let her get close to him, both emotionally and physically, Grace’s memory still freshly lingering around him. Y/n however was determined to turn their marriage into something more than just a business deal. She would play with Charlie, she would bring Tommy tea whenever he was at home, and she always tried to get him to smile which wasn’t easy, but after a lot of persistence, slowly but surely Tommy let her in. Truth was, despite the circumstances he was somehow glad he met her. Thomas never thought he would find a match to his wit but there she was. They could spend hours and hours just talking as time unsuspectedly passed by. She was an unusual person to say the least, smart, kind, caring, prim and proper, sometimes ladylike, sometimes not, and with very expressive eyes. That’s the first thing he noticed about her when he saw her for the very first time, the pool of mixed emotions in her eyes before their wedding, she didn’t look perfectly sad, but she didn’t look perfectly happy either. He found himself enthralled by her eyes and in the end they were what made him relent to her subtle yet kind acts of affection. She found herself quickly falling for him and he too did for her, although he would never admit it to anyone least of all, to himself. Their relationship grew to become something along the lines of a friendship and she always made sure to give him space not knowing quite sure if he reciprocated her feelings or not, he was a difficult man to decipher after all.

One night he came home to find her sitting in the grass out in the garden all by her lonesome just staring at the sky and his stars. As soon as she saw him she invited him to join her. He sat next to her under the quilt, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at the stars when she was sitting next to him. He had had an overly tense day and seeing her there, toying with the grass between her toes and a quilt over her shoulders, just enamored by the night sky made all his worries disappear for a while. . Thomas had learnt a lot just by looking at her, she was brought up to be the perfect high society lady, but when she was alone or with him or Charlie she could really be her own carefree self, knowing they wouldn’t judge her and he felt glad he had become one of the few who could see her like that. She felt his stare and turned round to look at him, she could feel her cheeks going red when their eyes met and in the heat of the moment, she leaned in to kiss him. A tiny pang of insecurity poked at her insides when he didn’t immediately kiss her back, thinking that she might have had misread the look in his eyes, she pulled away, but he stopped her by placing both his hands on either side of her face and looking into her eyes where he could see a strange strain of vulnerability before kissing her. Hesitantly she kissed back and they became so entangled in each other that everything around them became non existent. He made love to her that night with the stars as witnesses and after that, their relationship flowered into something else.

Time passed and they grew closer and closer together. She earned the trust of the rest of the Shelbys and soon enough she felt like a part of the family, even more so than with her own family.

Every year Y/n´s family held an event to “ rejoice with friends and family” as they put it, but y/n knew it was more of a “I´m richer than you” parade to which all of her family’s friends and relatives were invited to. Knowing that her mother would make a fuss if she didn’t attend, she and Tommy found themselves in y/n´s family home one Friday evening, dressed in the heights of fashion, drinking the most expensive champagne money could buy and sitting through her mothers inquiries about their married life. Y/n´s mother was relieved that y/n had married after all, her biggest fear was any of her daughters not living up to the standards according to which she brought them up to be.

“So, Y/n dear, are you with child yet?” Her mother asked in feigned sweet tone.

Y/n choked a bit on her champagne, not expecting her mom to blatantly ask that. Tommy turned to look at her and after taking a drag of his cigarette replied with a serious face“Not yet Mrs. Y/l/n”

“Oh but you are planning to aren’t you?” Her mother insisted.

“Not at the moment mother” y/n chimed in a bit too harshly for both her and her mother’s liking. Tommy grabbed her hand underneath the table with his free hand to reassure her a bit, but it did little to put out y/n´s feelings of discomfort “and anyway, why does it matter to you? You already have plenty of grandchildren from my sisters” she said this time with a politer tone.

“All im saying dear is that you are not getting ny younger and I would certainly not blame Mr. Shelby here” her mother said pointing at Tommy “ if he were to decide the deal he made with your father isn’t worth enough to put up with a woman of your likes” she finished before taking a sip of her glass of champagne and looking over at the couple to asses their reactions.

Y/n opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t find the words she needed. Tommy took her silence as an opportunity to get his word in after another long drag of his cigarette “with all due respect Mrs. Y/l/n, I think we are way past the business part of this marriage”

Her mother gave him a forced smile indicating that she didn’t believe a word of it before replying with “of course you are Mr. Shelby”

Tommy smiled at her mother in reciprocity before putting out his cigarette and turning to look at y/n “ Let’s dance, love” he said.

They made their way to the dance floor and swayed to the music “Now I know why you weren’t exited to come” he said looking down at her, trying to lighten her up a little. She barely nodded, too consumed in her own thoughts, her mother’s words ringing In her ears. She would be lying if she were to say it hadn’t occurred to her before, that the distant nagging thought of Tommy only pretending to enjoy her company for the sake of not having another problem to deal with hadn’t kept her up some nights in the past.

“Let’s just go home” she mumbled into his chest.

And so they did and for the next few days Tommy could see that she was a bit distant, sure she always smiled and acted like everything was fine, but no matter how well she acted, Tommy could see right through it, all because of her eyes. She was a proud woman and he knew she would never admit her mother’s words had gotten to her.

One day she was working on some of the flowers she had planted across the property as Tommy approached her. He must have been very silent for when he called her name she gave a little jump.

“God you scared me” she said with a laugh, wiping a bit of sweat of her forehead “Are you in a habit of startling unsuspecting gardening women?” She teased.

“Only on you” he replied looking down at her.

She could see there was something in his mind, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was so she stood up shaking some of the dirt that had collected on her dress before loosely wrapping her arms around him so that she could still see his face and inquired “ What can i do for you dear husband?”

He raised his eyebrows and his mouth curved up ever so slightly. She smiled at him knowing she was the only one who could get him to smile and waited for his response.

“Marry me” he said in all seriousness.

She gave him a coy smile “ But we are already married” she said doubtfully, not knowing what had brought Tommy to request such thing.

“Aye, but i want you to be my wife knowing that I married you for you, because I love you , not as a part of a business deal” he earnestly said before producing a small golden ring with a tiny orange opal from his coat pocket and grabbing her hand (that was covered in dirt) in his “ So, Y/n will you marry me?”

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting but it wasn’t that, it was the fist time Tommy had verbally proclaimed his love for her. Her eyes welled up in tears, a whirlwind of emotions raging inside in full display. Tommy brought one of his hands to her face to wipe away the one tear that did dare to fall. “Of course I´ll marry you Thomas Shelby” she said grabbing his hand in hers and looking at how he, with his other hand effortlessly slipped the ring on her finger before chuckling tearily and crashing her lips on his. They had a small ceremony right there on the garden that same weekend, saying their vows in front of the Shelby family. Unlike their first weeding, everyone seemed happy and even though it wasn’t an “official” wedding, they both knew it was the one that mattered.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby one shot #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby fluff

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shadow--writer · 4 years ago

Text

Through That Mist I See the Shape of You and I Know That I'm in Love With You

after WEEKS of writers block and rewriting this bitch I HAVE FINISHED. TITLE (it slaps)

Maeve x Lucas. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to tell you I love you. 6k

CW (im changing it lol): mentions of past trauma (Lucas), some bat hisses n hatred, flirting, these are dorks in love

@dela-png

A headache was starting to build behind her eyes.

Were all dates with Lucas going to be this...eventful?

...unlucky?

Incredibly unlucky?

She stared at the bat on the table, who was currently locked in a hissing battle with her partner. Tehi had fluffed herself to look bigger than she was, wings spread on the table. The high pitched hiss was directed at the one and only Lucas.

Who was shooting her a wounded plea for help.

Oh this was going swimmingly. At least she didn’t get bit by an eel this time.

...unless he could summon them to land, which she almost doubted. But knowing him and the magic of this town? It was likely.

She sighed, massaging her temples.

“You royally pissed her off,” she said after a moment, cracking an eye open to look at him. She giggled, watching him rest his head on the table. He banged his forehead, making her snort.

“Why! I didn’t do anything,” he moaned, looking over at her. She patted his head, Tehi letting out another hiss.

Currently, Tehi was in front of their dinner, biting his hand every time he reached for something. His hands had suffered quite a bit in the past ten minutes.

He stared longingly at the apple rings and the butternut squash he brought. “She’s even guarding dinner,” he grumbled.

The situation was...delicate.

Tehi, bless her heart, was on thin fucking ice. Lucas, bless his heart, was treading on eggshells.

And her? She had no heart to bless but she was ready to give up and go on without any more squash (sadly enough).

Having a territorial protective bat had its downsides. She grew up with Tehi, finding her in a tree injured and eating the fruit for harvest. Broke her ankle trying to get her down, her father lecturing her for hours after.

But Tehi knew her. And she could read how she felt about Lucas just by body language alone.

And Tehi was not happy.

Of course, the sentiment was sweet, Tehi was being protective because of things in the past (that she was currently trying to viciously ignore), but...now she was just making sure Lucas starved.

And Lucas…

Was sulking. She saw no end in sight unless Tehi stopped hissing.

Second date was going worse than the first.

“Most animals like me,” he said, reaching for Tehi, jerking his hand back as she lept for him. “Why not her? Is it a scent thing?”

“It’s uh...me thing.”

He looked up at her as she scooted closer to him, resting her hand on his knee. “Tehi doesn’t...like people getting close to me...romantically. Friends are fine, but you are um…”

“No longer a friend?”

She patted his knee with a smile. “No, I still treasure our friendship, we’re just different now.”

“So she just doesn’t…”

“Like you. Being with me. Like this.”

“How does she know?”

She felt herself flush. “She um...just knows! She’s been around me most of my life so she can read me pretty well.”

“Oh...like Jolie and me!” His brows furrowed. “So she doesn’t like...me being with you?”

“It’s a very horrific crime, I’m afraid. Mo mhuirnín dílis,” she said, kissing his forehead. He settled into her touch, Tehi letting out an indignant squawk. “I don’t think she’ll ever forgive you for this.”

He made a face. “Well she’ll have to get over it.”

“Mmhmm, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while longer.”

He opened his eyes, smiling a little. “I like being stuck with you.”

She flushed. “Don’t be sappy in front of my bat. She hates you enough already.”

He puffed his cheeks out in a pout, the face strikingly similar…

...to one she made.

“I don’t want her to hate me though,” he whined, looking over at Tehi. She clutched her strawberry close, letting out a very angry hiss at his gaze. He turned away.

“I’m afraid you have no choice. You’ll grow on her eventually.”

“Eventually,” he repeated with a grumble. “Eventually, is not a now.”

“Be patient, mo grá. She’ll come around. You have a way of getting to people.”

“I do?”

“You did with me. It was very shocking how fast you managed to wedge yourself in my life.”

“Yeah. Then you tried to get rid of me.”

“Strong words! It was more like...give you a nudge elsewhere.”

He raised an eyebrow, making her giggle. “Fine. Maybe I was getting rid of you. But I had very good reasoning for it.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked softly, making her blink in surprise.

“No...it was just...you scared me a little,” she murmured with a small smile. “You still do.”

“Why?”

“You’re...different. From what I’m used to. You’re just...so...open.”

“Is...that a bad thing?”

Curse those eyes, big blue and pleading. It was like he didn’t even notice how he affected her when he looked at her like this.

She brushed his hair back. “You built a window instead of a wall. You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

Tehi watched them, perched on a plate. Lucas reached over and she bit his finger. He let out a curse, shaking his hand as he pulled away, sticking his tongue out at Tehi.

She bit back her laughter. “I can help with those.”

“It’s fine,” he muttered, popping the finger into his mouth.

“Is it bleeding?”

“A little.”

“Lucas.”

“Mm fine. I’ve gotten worse.” Her eyes were drawn to the scar around his neck, and the ones disappearing into the collar of his shirt. They felt familiar, like something she’d seen before. She reached out, brushing one of the scars. The ones that looked like the marking of an animal.

Or the symbols on her walls.

He jolted under her touch, staring at her with wide eyes. She pulled away quickly, not thinking.

“I’m so s-sorry! It’s just…” her brows furrowed. “Those markings feel familiar. I’ve seen them before...not just when my clinic was broken into.” She met his gaze. “What are they from?”

His eyes darted away as she asked, wringing his hands. “Made some...bad choices,” he said gruffly. “It’s nothing.”

She blinked, shifting away. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He reached over for her hand and hesitated. She bridged the gap and laced their fingers. “You’re fine,” he murmured, sitting up and leaning against her. “Just stuff I don’t want to talk about.”

She hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. “I understand. I won’t ask if you don’t wanna talk.”

He squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do,” she said with a smile. “Besides, we have bigger fish to fry.” She looked back at her bat. “...and that’s getting dinner.”

He winced. “Does she have to bite me?”

“Apparently.”

Tehi chirped, preening.

He glowered. “She has sharp teeth.”

“I offered to help.”

He slouched against her, knocking her off balance. She let out a small squeak, wrapping her arms around his neck before she fell out of her chair.

He laughed, resting his head against her shoulder.

“Lucas I’m gonna fall!”

“Mmhmm.”

“And take you with me.”

“That’s nice.”

“Get offa me!” She was giggling, bumping her head against his. “You’re too heavy!”

“Mm but if I can’t eat tonight then I guess I’ll just sleep.”

“I can move her, you know.”

“Yes but that’s not gonna stop her from biting me.”

“…or trying to eat your hair.”

He cracked an eye open, wincing. “That too.”

She giggled, kissing the top of his head. “Good news is, she tries to eat everyone’s hair.”

“Is that just...a Tehi thing?”

“Yeah. I think she thinks it’s going to taste any better the more she tries it. Though, watching her chase Malory around was pretty funny.”

“What did he do specifically? You mentioned lying, calling the guards and erm…”

“Murder? Trust me, I have thought about it.”

“I’m aware.”

She flicked the tip of his nose, making him wrinkle it back. “He accused me of stealing. Tehi, well, she’s a bat. No sense of money and trade, only get food to live. I paid for what she took, but he...wasn’t happy about her taking it in the first place. He has the best fruit in the market so her taking things...became a habit.”

He winced. “So he calls the guards on you?”

“Every time he sees me near his booth. Sucks the best fruit in the market has to be sold by an asshole.”

“I could always go grocery shopping for you. If you’d like me to.”

“You...would? For me?”

He nodded, resting his chin on her shoulder. “If he’s the one making you walk all the way to Center City to get fruit, then I’d be happy to go for you.”

She turned and hugged him, burying her face in his neck. “Oh thank the stars. I was close to trying to grow my own fruit. It would have been a disaster. I can barely take care of my medical herbs.”

He let out a small squeak, arms slowly wrapping around her. She made eye contact with Tehi, and if looks could kill.

“You’re a disaster,” he murmured, making her giggle. “Amani grows plants if you ever want to ask her about them. I dunno if she grows any...fruit, but I know she has aloe. I get some of my spices from her.”

“She has plants? That’s amazing!” She brightened at the thought, letting him go. He smelled deliciously sweet, like nutmeg and cinnamon. “...you think she’d teach me how to keep a plant alive?”

He grimaced. “She could barely teach me. I killed a succulent and she quit.”

“I don’t have the time to take care of plants. Or I just don’t balance my time wisely.”

“I um...don’t manage my time well either.”

“...yeah, you workaholic.”

He blushed. “I-I’m not that bad.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Mmhmm. Working yourself to the point of passing out is not that bad.”

“That was one time.”

“I had to carry you home!”

“You had help!”

“Same thing!”

He snorted, making her giggle. Tehi blinked at them, seeming unimpressed.

And now they were being judged by a bat.

He moved over to grab a strawberry, Tehi chirping at the sight.

“I think we found our way to get her to like you,” she said, leaning against him.

“Food?”

“Always a good choice.”

He prodded her side, making her swat at his hands with a squawk. “Is that how I won you over?” he teased.

She wrestled his hand away from her side, struggling against him trying to poke at her again. “What if it was?” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. “I might just marry your pumpkin squash if I could get to it.”

Tehi chirped as if she liked that idea better.

“Hey! Don’t take her side!” Lucas said, turning to the bat on a plate. “She’s mean, I’m the nice one.”

“Aww, are you mad that she likes me better?” she teased, kissing his cheek. “What? Can’t win the affection of one little bat?”

“She’s not little and you know it.”

She giggled, tapping the tip of his nose. “If it makes you feel any better, my family would love you.”

“They…would?”

“Mmhmm. Especially my father and grandma. Cooking fanatics. I grew up trying new dishes. But…sadly I got my cooking ability from my mom.”

He laughed, a blush warming his cheeks. “I could teach you if you’d like.”

“You’d quit.”

“I would not!”

“Oh please! Most of my dishes either explode or are inedible. You’d quit within two minutes.”

“If we don’t have another great Jolie flour incident I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“…Lucas, I am the great Jolie flour incident.”

“You can’t be that bad.”

“Try me. I’ve burnt eggs that weren’t cracked.”

“…how did you even do that?”

“Long story.”

“Trouble,” he said, ruffling her hair.

She grinned. “You like it.”

Tehi chirped again, staring at the strawberry he had. He tentatively reached over to give it to her, Tehi snatching it from his fingers and holding it close in her claws. He jumped back, the chair toppling over at the force.

He fell backwards with the chair, making her crack up.

“Did I not warn you she’s protective of her meals?” she asked, looking down at him.

“Apparently.” He winced, rubbing the back of his head. “Not.”

She giggled. “Whoops.”

“Does she do that to people she hates?”

She grabbed a strawberry, handing it to Tehi, watching as the same thing happened. A wicked little smile played across her face as she mimicked what he had done, down to the facial expressions and knocking her chair back.

Her head hit the floor hard, but she was giggling.

He shot her an unimpressed look, fighting his smile. “Gee. Thanks. I feel way better now.”

She looked over at him with a smile, her hair spilling out across the floor. “That was the funniest reaction I’ve seen to her.”

“…thanks.”

She snorted, squishing his face. “Don’t pout.”

“You’re so mean though,” he said, voice muffled due to her squishing his cheeks. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over this slight to my pride.”

She kissed him lightly. “Mmm I’m sure you will.”

He shifted closer to her, wrinkling his nose. “Don’t patronize me.”

She giggled, running her hands through his hair and rubbing her nose against his. “I would never.”

He snorted, kissing her softly. “She really likes strawberries, huh?” he whispered after a moment.

She bit her lip, smiling. “She’s gotten me to like them just as much. Back home we had strawberry plants growing everywhere! Blueberries and blackberries as well. My Mhamó would bake so many pies during the first pick of the harvest. Our fingers would be stained red,” she said with a giggle. “Once Aislin ate so much her mouth was stained for a week. Someone thought she ate a person! Devoured them right off the bone!”

He snorted. “Are they your favourites?”

“Well…” she pursed her lips, thinking. “Have you ever had the first strawberry of the year? Ripe and sweet? I could eat them for hours and not tire...so...I guess they are. Tehi loved them from the get-go and I always carry some around.”

“Is that why you always taste like strawberries?”

She blushed, blinking. The question was innocent, she bit her lip and giggled again. He brushed her hair back, thumb running against her skin. “I um...guess so! But I don’t hear you complaining,” she said, nuzzling his cheek.

He shifted his face to capture her lips, burying his hands in her hair. “I think I like them better this way,” he said with a soft smile, nose brushing against hers as he kissed her again.

“We should get back up,” she murmured, being cut off by him kissing her again. “Lucas.”

“But if we don’t get up Tehi won’t keep hissing at me.”

“But squash.” She pouted, thinking about it. “I’m serious about marrying it.”

“How about you marry me instead, then you’d get all the squash you’d want.”

She snorted, kissing the tip of his nose. “Want me to have an affair with your cooking? It’s very tempting, I must say.”

He laughed, resting his forehead against hers. “Well? What do you say?”

She giggled, tugging at his hair. “Let me think about it.”

“Don’t take too long.”

“Oh yes because I’m the one asking you. What? Many people flocking to your door? Struggle tying you down?” she joked, kissing his cheek. “I’ll have to have more before making my decision.”

“If you can get around Tehi, that is.”

“I can get around her. She loves me. You on the other hand...”

He sulked. “Don’t remind me.”

She giggled, rising to her feet and picking up her chair. “Need help?”

“View is nice from here.”

She raised an eyebrow, squatting down next to him. “I’ll sic Tehi on you.”

“...you wouldn’t.”

“It’ll get her away from the squash.”

Damn, the puppy dog eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t give me that look.”

He kept at it, she groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Fine! I wouldn’t. But you should get up at least.”

He sighed. “If I keep feeding her will she like me?”

“It’s how you got me to marry you.”

He snorted, getting off the chair and putting it back up. “Well I guess it’s not all bad then, huh?”

“Make a fruit pie and she might love you forever.”

“...she can eat those?”

“She sure damn tries. My dad tried making one and she had eaten most of it by the time we finished dinner. He was so mad he tried to ban her from the house.”

He laughed as she sat down, reaching over Tehi (and giving her a pat) to pile more squash onto her plate. She let out a happy hum, biting into it. “Mmm alright maybe I will marry you,” she said, cracking an eye open to look at him.

He plucked a cinnamon apple ring, dramatically holding it out for her. He raised his voice an octave. “Maeve O’Connor, will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

She snorted, laughing. Her cheeks warmed, she knew it was fake. He was joking. But it was nice. He was looking at her with a soft affection, like he actually meant it.

But he couldn’t have. He didn’t even love her.

“And then have an affair with your cooking?” she joked, pushing down her feelings. He was just flirting.

He slipped the dessert on her finger, kissing her knuckles with a wink. “If it gets you to say yes.”

She giggled, staring at the treat on her hand. She bit into it, smiling at the familiar taste.

He gasped in offense. “Maeve, that's your engagement ring!”

“It’s delicious.”

“I worked hard to earn the money to get that! I spent weeks working up the courage to ask and you eat it?!”

“But it’s good!”

He kissed her once, then twice. “You are going to make me work every damn day of my life, eating my hard earned money like that.”

She smiled, tilting her head up to kiss his chin. “Mmmhmm. But you asked me.”

He only shook his head, stealing food from her plate.

“Hey!” she yelped, reaching for the fork. He held it just out of her reach, teasing her.

“Aww can’t reach?” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

“Curse these short limbs,” she replied, crawling into his lap. He blinked as she wrestled his hand, tugging the fork back down to her. She bit the squash off the end, grinning smugly.

He flicked the tip of her nose. “That was mine.”

“No you stole it from me. I’m not gonna marry a thief.”

“But Tehi won’t let me get any more!”

“I can get it for you!”

“No! You’re just gonna eat it all!”

She pursed her lips. “That’s true.”

“And you think I’m a thief.”

“You stole it from my plate!”

“You don’t have any evidence.”

“I watched you! And don’t repeat my shitty logic back to me!”

He laughed, ruffling her hair. “Can I at least have a bite of your engagement ring?”

She gasped, clutching her hand close to her chest. “Never. It is my engagement ring. I can eat it if I wish!”

“But I gave it to you!”

She made a face at him. “But it’s mine now!”

He made a move for her hand, she pressed her hand against his cheek, holding her other hand above her head. “No!”

“But Maeve!”

“No!” She was giggling so hard her ribs hurt.

There was a flutter, and the makeshift ring was snatched off her finger.

Tehi chirped, perched on a nearby bookshelf with the apple ring.

She and Lucas stared for a moment before cracking up. “Looks like neither of us got it,” he said.

“And it looks like someone objects to this marriage.”

He tilted her chin, smiling softly. “She’ll have to try harder than that to stop it.”

She blushed at the sincerity of his words as he kissed her. For a moment she thought he was serious about it. He’s really gotta stop that, messing with her heart and head like that.

“So...a bat huh?” he started, looking back at Tehi. “Like animals?”

She smiled, trying to fight her blush away. “Yeah. Tehi was an unexpected twist during a hide and seek game, but I grew up loving animals. My older sister has two dogs now.”

“Oh?” “Yeah! They’re very sweet girls, energetic as well. I dunno how she deals with him all the time. She’s written to me many times about how much they get into the baby food back home. She and her fiancée have four kids, one is a wee baby. Cutest little thing.”

“Do you like dogs?”

“Depending on the dog, but yes.”

“Depending on the dog?”

“I’m uh…” she flushed. “Scaredofbigdogs.”

His brows furrowed as he mouthed her word jumble back. “Scared? Why? They’re babies! Big sweethearts!”

She scratched the back of her head. “Well um...I got attacked by wolves when I was a teen. Kinda puts a damper on the whole...big dog thing.”

“...well. That’s a good reason.”

“Oh wow thank you for your approval, oh mighty big dog master.”

“Hey, they get a bad rep. Big dogs are amazing. They just get labeled as dangerous because they’re big.”

“Oh, so like you?”

He let out a choked noise, blushing furiously. “Well I-I mean...y-yeah?”

She smiled, brushing his hair back. “Hmm...I guess you’re okay.”

“Thanks. My fiancée is so loving.”

“Only for you.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, chasing her for a kiss. She giggled, cupping his face in her hands.

“I’d like you even if you were a big dog,” she murmured, kissing the tip of his nose.

His cheeks reddened as he chuckled. “I’d like you even if you were a small dog.”

“Hey!”

“Thumbelina, you couldn’t be big in any form.”

She sulked. “You don’t have to say it though.”

He smiled, kissing her fingertips. “It’s true.”

“Hmph.”

He squished her face, rubbing his nose against hers. “Don’t pout.”

“I’ll pout if I wanna,” she sniffed, making him smile. “I’m small but I pack a punch.”

He winced. “I’m aware. I think you broke my nose.”

She giggled, biting his fingertip. He yelped softly, pulling away. She grinned at his glare, him holding his hand close. “Don’t be a baby. It was a love tap.”

He muttered to himself, looking at his hand. She left a small indent. “I felt no love in that tap.”

“You didn’t look hard enough.”

He snorted, resting his hands on her thighs. “Yeah let me rethink about you kicking me in the nose lovingly. That’s for sure what I felt.”

“In my defense, you insulted my honour twice. If you won’t defend me, who will?”

He tapped his fingers, making her squirm. “I learned my lesson. Next time I’ll win.”

“Mmm next time huh?” She giggled, throwing her hair off her shoulder. “Want a rematch?”

“Absolutely. This time I know your secrets.”

“Someone’s a sore loser,” she teased, flicking the tip of his nose. “And you only know some of my secrets. I am a mysterious woman, you may not know all of my secrets! I’ll kick your ass every time.”

He kissed her softly, holding her hands and lacing their fingers. “We’ll see.”

“Oh I know it.” He rolled his eyes, making her smile. She looked at their clasped hands, hints of cinnamon sugar still dotting her ring finger. He raised her hand, kissing the sugar away.

“Hey, that's hints of my long lost engagement ring!”

He smiled, kissing her inner wrist. “You were right about it being delicious.”

She rolled her eyes, fighting back her smile as she slowly climbed to her feet. “I know.” She looked at the food on the table, long forgotten. “I’ll...put things away. Take some home?”

He kissed her palm, letting her hand go. “You can keep the squash. I think it’ll get eaten.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I have enough food at home, and you need it more than I do.”

“I don’t need it.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“...yesterday.”

He raised an eyebrow, she blushed.

“...morning…”

“Exactly. And I get lectured.”

“Well, you had time to eat, I didn’t.”

He rolled his eyes. “Potato patato. Take it, and please eat. Who will kick my ass if you’re too tired?”

“Amani.”

“...touché.”

She giggled, picking up the plates. “If you want to keep trying to win Tehi’s affection, I’ll leave the fruit bowl out. I’ll pack some of the apple rings for you.”

“Okay.”

She hummed, wrapping the squash and apple rings up in a cloth, looking over her shoulder to see Lucas making kissy noises at Tehi, holding a strawberry out for her. She hissed when he moved close, stopping when she saw the gift.

Maeve giggled, placing the plates in the sink.

“...is this yours?” he asked after a moment.

She looked up, moving closer to where he was pointing. It was a sketch, one of many she had scattered about. Her brows softened as she looked at it. “Yeah. It’s of my home.”

“It’s beautiful, I didn’t know you drew.”

“I usually paint, but sketching is nice. My aunt taught me how, since drawing is a good skill to have with magic.”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, watching her with soft eyes. “Magic?”

“Yes! Like sigils! Those can be used in different ways, drawing helps guide it. I have a sigil on my neck at the base of my skull…” she lifted her hair up, showing the three swirls. Mind-body-soul, as her sister said. It was her first, a stick and poke they did on a whim. “It helps amplify the magic I want to use, it can’t amplify raw magic, that comes from you but…” she blushed. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

He blinked, smiling. “No no! It’s interesting, tattoos are a way to transfer magic?”

“They’re a way...to channel it. To draw from you and your surroundings. Tattoos are more permanent versions of sigils, but they are some of the most powerful.”

“I think I have one of those.”

She lit up, bouncing on her toes. “Really?” He nodded, cheeks reddening. “Where is it? Can I see? What does it do? What are the side effects?”

The look he gave her was startled, she blushed, rocking back onto her heels. “I um...sorry. I just...love this type of magic.” She laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “Most people don’t do tattoos with it, since they are permanent. I could...ask slowly?”

“O-Okay!”

“Where...is it?”

“On my back. Between my shoulder blades.”

She furrowed her brows, wrapping her arms around him, prodding at his spine between his shoulders. “Here?”

He nodded, staring at her wide eyed and blushing. “Y-Yep!” he squeaked out, making her giggle.

“What does it do? Magic wise, I mean.”

His brows creased, overshadowing his eyes. “I...don’t know exactly. I think it makes me...stronger? When I want to be. It helps with...healing and I have a higher pain tolerance.”

“So a strength sigil? It would...feed on your strength you have and help aid you when you tap into it. The pain tolerance and healing could be a meaning behind some of the symbols, but I’d have to study those.”

He smiled, laughing. “If you wanted me to take my shirt off you could’ve asked.”

She blinked, going over the implications before blushing. “I um! I didn’t mean it that way! S-Sorry it just-”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You're fine, I’m teasing.”

She grumbled, wrapping her arms around him as she stood on her tiptoes. “I wouldn’t mind it either.”

He blushed, making her bite her lip as she smiled.

“I have been studying sigils for a while now. I just made another breakthrough with some! Currently looking into light sigils due to how easy they are…”

“May I see?”

Her lips parted in surprise, eyes widening. “Y-You’d want to see it?”

“Of course I do! It’s something you get excited about, even if I might not understand it...why wouldn’t I?”

“Not um...everyone likes to listen to me ramble.” She giggled, nervous. “It’s fine! I tend to be long winded.”

He kissed her softly. “I think it’s cute, I like seeing you talk about it. I’d be happy to listen.”

She kissed him back, harder. She knocked him off balance as she pushed herself off the ground. His hands hovered over her waist for a moment before he bundled her close.

“I’ll show you,” she murmured, letting go of him. He set her down, letting her take his hand and guide him to her room. “My room is a mess because of it, I must warn you.”

He laughed. “I’ve seen a messy room before.”

“Yeah. Yours,” she teased, winking as she nudged her door open. Tehi followed them, chirping as she fluttered up to a small bookshelf cluttered with small trinkets. Tehi snuggled close to the dog Lucas had given her, so many weeks ago. He stared at the bat and the wooden dog, his smile growing giddy.

“You still have it!”

She looked over, smiling. “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes with a bashful smile. “I didn’t think you’d keep it.”

She squeezed his hand. “It was a gift.”

He looked at her with a soft smile, letting her guide him to sit on the floor. She gathered the pages on the floor, lips twisting as she looked at the symbols. “Do you want to draw your own?” she asked, half bent over, looking over her shoulder.

“Draw my own?”

“I can show you, if you’d like.”

“Alright.”

She smiled, face warming. Her freckles on her arms started to glow brighter as she scooped up blank paper. He held out a hand for her, helping her sit, nestled in the crook of his side.

“I’d like to see your tattoo eventually,” she said, laying out the papers. “If you’d let me.”

He kissed her cheek. “Sure, I’d be happy to have a magic expert analyze it.”

“I’m no expert. You’d be better off seeing the magician in Center City.”

“I’d rather have you.”

“I’m touched.” She reached over his lap for her pens, chewing on her lower lip as she looked at the blank sheets of paper.

“What’s first, oh mighty powerful witch?”

She giggled, handing him a pen and scooting a paper over. “Drawing the sigil. Here’s the light one I’ve been using.” She showed him the page, a line curving down and another tucked in it. Three lines connected the swirling ones. “These symbolize balance. Balance with light, no light can exist without shadow and shadow cannot exist without light.”

He traced the three lines connected the swirled. “And these symbolize the bond between the balance?”

She grinned, clapping her hands. “Yes! Exactly!” She leaned into him, holding her pen. “Sigils are all about the idea and magic you’re trying to put out there. What you want to happen, putting that want into the drawing and the magic in the air, activating it with the same.”

He watched her draw the sigil, copying her movements. “And how do you activate it?”

“Some are powerful enough to use a look, or a connection. I usually use my hands. Your hands are powerful.” He finished drawing the sigil, letting her take his hand and hold his palm open. She traced the lines, like she had some time ago. “Remember your palm reading?”

“Yeah.”

“Lines hold meaning. Heart, sun, fate, head, life. Magic flows through your hands. Hands are the start and the finish of magic, the connection between you and the earth. Am I making sense?”

“Kind of.”

“Think of it...like a connection. Magic from your hands seeps into the thing you’re trying to activate, a sigil in this example. Your hands are...an anchor.”

“Oh…” he whispered, looking at his hands. Peering at them with critical eyes. “That makes sense.”

“And now that you’ve drawn the sigil with the intent for light, you anchor and channel that magic into your want for light.”

“How?”

“I can show you.” She got to her feet, blowing out the candles. Tehi chirped, bouncing on the shelf as she watched them.

She reached out blindly, letting him take hold of her hand again and lead her back. Sitting back down, she placed her hands on her sigil.

“Palm against the drawing,” she murmured, trying not to break the fragile air of intimacy hanging around them. “Think of light and the sigil will answer. Think…a fire. A candle. The sun on your face.”

“You?”

She stiffened, blushing. “I-I guess s-so,” she squeaked, making him chuckle. She watched him place his hand on the sloppily drawn sigil.

She chewed on her lip, trying to hide her giddy smile. His eyes fluttered shut, leaning against her. She leaned back, breathing in and letting it out with the idea of light.

Her sigil folded, and started to glow. She smiled, satisfied, before turning to look at him. His face was set in concentration, the room was quiet, their breathing soft.

Slowly, the sigil folded, glowing brightly. She cheered, the sound startling him into opening his eyes. He paused when he saw the ball of light at his palms.

“I did that?” he asked, eyes growing wide.

She grinned, tackling him in a hug and kissing him fiercely. He laughed against her mouth, cradling her head in his hands. “You did!” she said, glowing brightly.

“What else can you do?” he asked, staring at the two lights. When he looked back at her his excitement was infectious, making her bounce.

“Ice, earth and I once made a gust of spring air appear in the middle of winter! Plants didn’t work out well, but we can work on it! Imagine what we could do!”

“We?”

She blushed at her mistake. “I-If you want to. T-That is.”

“You’d let me help?”

She nodded, biting her lip. She wasn’t meeting his eyes, in her excitement she thought he’d...like to.

But he wouldn’t. Why would he?

He grinned, tilting her head back to look at him. Her thoughts evaporated. “I’d be honoured to help. If you’d have me. That is.”

“Hey I offered don’t get insecure on me now.”

He laughed, kissing her softly, sitting back up with her in his lap. She giggled against his mouth, burying her hands in his hair.

“Okay,” he murmured.

“Okay!”

They stared at one another for a moment before giggling again.

“I did magic,” he murmured, staring at the light floating by her shoulder. “I made that, right?”

“Your magic. I didn’t do anything.”

His grin was quick to creep across his face, as he reached out to hold the light. She cupped hers in her hand, blowing it into his face softly. He sneezed as it exploded in a bunch of tiny lights, floating around his hair like a halo.

Tehi chirped again, chasing a few of the lights.

Smiling, she brushed his hair back and scattered the glitter that sat there.

He blew his into her face, making her giggle as it exploded across her cheeks. “Oh look. More glowing lights to add to your already glowing face,” he teased, brushing her cheeks.

She tilted her head to kiss the pad of his thumb, smiling.

“So what’d ya say? Wanna explore magic with me?”

He tilted her face up, kissing her with such affection it made her heart skip a beat.

There was a softness to his gaze when he pulled away, his brows set in content and his lips upturned in a gentle smile. A tender look settled into his eyes as he kissed the top of her head.

“I’d love to.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #maeve #lucas #maeve x lucas #maevas #my writing #DONT TALK TO ME IM YEARNING #these two are the kinds of people to joke about gettin married before even saying I love you #love and hate that for them #bc I gotta WRITE THIS BS #and then MAEVE #AUGH #calm before the storm lmao #fluff #soft nerds #in love #OKAY IM POSTING THIS BEFORE I OVER THINK THINGS AGAIN

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thewritingstar · 4 years ago

Text

Like Fallen Snow

ahhh im super excited because I was @empress-of-mischief secret Santa for the Powerpuff secret Santa! I hope that this fic fills you will joy my dear. I rarely write for the blues and wanted to give it my best. I hope you had a wonderful xmas too.

Pairing: Boomubbles

Fandom: PPG

---

Christmas was an exciting time of the year. Even Boomer who would rather be alone in his room blasting rock music in his headphones could be found sitting in the living room with his brothers early in the morning. It would start with them racing out of their bedrooms at an ungodly hour and putting on a pot of coffee for their monkey of a father before summoning their demon dad for gifts.

Having super villains for dads had some perks like giant lasers, rocket ships and enough weapons to destroy entire cities as if they forgot that the boys themselves were better than any military grade weapon. So when it came time to open gifts, even Boomer could give enough to smile as he unwrapped a taser gun that he automatically shot at Butch and blue fuzzy socks that matched the red and green ones.

Making sure the superpowered boys were happy on the holiday was something that Mojo and Him had decided was the best, not to keep them entertained but also to keep the running feud of who the best father was. Even though Boomer was happy to accept anything wrapped up with a bow, he had always felt something missing. He had to give Him and Mojo credit because as they got older, the gifts actually became personal.

They were now in their junior year of high school. The boys ‘bad-boy’ vibe wasn’t really cutting it with them and giant machinery wasn’t going to be the hot ticket for the year. Instead Brick ended up with a ton of books and gourment coffee, Butch calling him a big ass nerd of course, which was to prove his point that he was smarter than all of them and may or may not have been to either aggravate or impress a certain puff. For Butch his collection of vinyl recorders, skateboard parts and sport equipment was enough to keep him satisfied and have enough to spark envy with Buttercup. Boomer appreciated the brand new wall of guitars that he had been begging for, drums and a flute that he didn’t remember knowing how to play but hey, how hard could it be?

“Boomer, my dear boy, you keep looking at your phone. Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?” Him asked as he narrowed his eyes in a way that made Boomer snap his phone off.

Embarrassment crawled through him as all eyes were on him and even Mojo who was in the kitchen making pancakes but more or less listening in.

“Oh um, it was just I had a present for a couple friends and was wondering if I could give it to them before it gets dark.” Boomer responded.

“It's eight in the morning, dumbass. It's not close to being dark yet.” Butch said as he threw a football at the blondes head and let out a scream when the rubber turned to dust from the blue laser beams.

“You can say Bubbles.” Brick snorted and Boomer shot him a glare. That was a secret!

“Oh? She is quite the cutie.” Him smirked and Butch barked out a laugh as he smacked Boomers side with a wag of the eyebrows.

“Forget it, you all are weird. I’ll see you for breakfast, I’ll be quick.” Boomer huffed and went up to his room to change before flying out the window.

“Tell your little girlfriend hi for us!” He heard Butch shout and he knew damn well the whole neighbor hood could probably hear him.

“Not my girlfriend.” He mumbled to himself as he found his way to the park.

Since the beginning of his life it had always been the ruffs vs the puffs. Destined by his fathers orders and demands, Boomer always followed in that direction no matter what. He didn’t waver from the line drawn in the sand. Even though his brothers began to tip toe around it when they got older, stupid hormones, and yet he never strayed.

He could maybe understand their reasoning. It would make sense to be drawn to the enemy in a way he rarely understood, but still his blood flowed with destruction and determination to rule the world and some girl with pigtails wasn’t going to change that. Or so he thought.

He would consider himself an introvert to his counterpart’s over the top bubbly personality, her name truly suited her. Unlike their siblings, they seemed to rival the most in the sharing of traits.

And yet they had become friends first. It was a bonding experience over milkshakes and a painstaking talk about how they don’t live up to their siblings' powers, how they felt like they were the weak ones. He thought about how Brick and Butch had more muscle power but to hear Bubbles have her own doubts made his stomach turn and for some reason, their friendship bloomed.

Boomer could say that she was his best friend. Not too many people had gained the title of being his friend compared to her, who had most of the school fawning over her charm even if she didn’t notice. But that's what he liked about her. She was like him and while he was confined to her and shared his fears, she could do the same because at the end of the day, they were counterparts. One half of the same coin that would understand the other without any words.

So maybe that's why he was extremely nervous right now. They had been besties, as she called it, for a while and even though gift giving wasn’t out of the ordinary, he wondered what it would be like to be more.

Tell your little girlfriend hi for us!

Much more.

His thoughts were interrupted when the blue puff landed at the foot of the gazebo and sat on the bench next to him.

“Hey Boomie.” She smiled brightly and at first the nickname bothered him but now it was stuck like honey. It was weird when she didn’t say it.

“Hey Bubs.” He returned the smile. “How was your morning?”

“The usual. Blossom with her books and magazines, Buttercup and her weights and well I now have a new spring wardrobe. How about you?”

“Exactly that but I got a new guitar to tune.”

“Oooo you’ll have to play for me sometime.” She gushed and he felt the heat rise to his cheeks. It was the cold's fault, not the pretty blonde, he swears! “Now it's time for the present!” She clapped and put a tin that smelled that vanilla and cinnamon on his lap.

He already knew what they were as he had been bugging her to make her signature holiday cookies for months. Worth the wait.

“So I made you all some cookies, without my sister's help of course and then this is for you.” She handed him a box. The box was black with a navy blue bow. It was so perfect that it was almost comical. Opening the box, he removed the sparkly blue tissue paper.

“Oh wow, guitar picks.” He smiled as he took one out. It was wooden and had a small B with a heart engraved on it. “It's almost like you knew.”

“I had a feeling. You had been talking non stop about wanting one and whether I’d admit it or not, Him makes sure his dear baby boy gets a good present.” She giggled as she poked his cheek.

He rubbed his thumb over it, examining it and thinking about how nice it's going to feel while strumming. “These are really nice quality.”

“I made one from each adventure we went on. That’s made from a pine tree from our first camping trip with our friends. And this one is from the beach last summer.” She held up a slightly white one and at a closer look he realized that it was probably made from sea glass.

“You made these?” He asked in disbelief. “Is this made of bamboo?” He gasped. “When we raced to China?”

“Yep! I know it’s kinda lame but those places meant a lot for us, as friends.” She stumbled over the last part.

“I don’t think it’s lame at all. Pretty cool.” And he meant it. It was probably the most thoughtful gift he had ever received because it took him back to those happy days they had spent together.

“Cooler than a rocket?” She giggled.

“Even cooler than a rocket. Thank you.” He said and fished out her present from his pocket. “Mines not homemade but, ya know.” He scratched the back of his neck and handed her the small poorly wrapped box. “Don’t even comment on the wrapping.”

She held in a laugh. “I’m not.” Liar.

Carefully she tore off the paper and opened the box. “Boomer.”

“I hope it's the right one.”

She stared at the silver chain that had a silver pendant of the moon. When they walked through the mall, it had caught her eye and she spent the next hour talking about astrology and the phases of the moon. The minute that she went into another store, he ran back to purchase it. In the middle of August mind you.

“It's beautiful.” He could hear the sincerity in her voice as she turned her back to him and he helped her with the clasp. “Thank you, I love it so much.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a couple minutes, taking a few bites of the cookies. The peaceful morning in the park with no one around was perfect, he wasn’t a fan of crowds and maybe that's why she chose this spot because she knew they would be the only ones here.

“Oh look, it's snowing.” Bubbles gasped as she held out her hand to catch the small flakes coming in. “Isn’t it beautiful?” She asked and when he said yes, his eyes hadn’t come off of her.

She stood and walked a few feet out to twirl in the new snow and he shoved his hands in his pocket to keep them warm as he watched her with a smile. If she would have asked him to join her a couple years ago, he would have probably said no and told her to shove off, and now, he would have gone anywhere if she just asked.

Staring at her made him realize that he wanted something more with her. There had been a few occasions where the air around them shifted and for a single second, it was like she thought the same thing, but they would get interrupted and that moment would die and he would sit there and remember that he is her best friend, nothing more, nothing less. But what if he was?

He got to his fit and joined her, kicking around some snow with his shoe as his mind kept racing about every single possibility. Does he just tell her? Just ask? What if he read the signs wrong? What if he messes everything up?

“Isn’t it romantic?” His thoughts were ripped away as he turned towards her. She was looking up at the sky. “Like a Christmas movie. The first snow of the season is said to bring promise to a new love, funny huh?”

Boomers eyes widened suddenly. Was...was she wanting this to turn romantic? This entire time had he been pining from a far when she was ready to take the leap? No. they had talked about relationships before, well hers at least. She was probably just saying it because she was a hopeless romantic.

But then again, Bubbles had always been the bold type. Always telling him that she had been dropping hints for some guy and now come to think of it...had she been talking about him?

“Yeah, romantic.” He decided to finally respond.

He watched as her smile turned down slightly as she looked at him with a gaze he didn't recognize. “Well, I should probably be heading back home now.” She said somewhat sadly.

“Oh yeah, before the snow sets. Thank you by the way.” He held up the boxes and she gave him a better smile.

“Of course. And thank you for this.” She tugged on her necklace. “I’ll see you soon.” She said as she turned around and began to walk.

Something within him was yelling. An eternal battle now raging in his mind. What if he? No, he shouldn’t. But, imagine the positives.

He was hoping for a Christmas miracle.

Boomer ran up behind her, matching her speed as he grabbed her hand and turned her towards him before dropping it and rubbing his arm.

“Hey Bubbles?” Boomer asked nervously. His cheeks had decided to betray him and turn a pretty pink shade as Bubbles tilted her head.

“Yes?”

He sent his boxes down as her eyes remained on him. His hand shook nervously at his sides while her baby blue eyes looked at him. Butterflies were doing cartwheels in his stomach now but he was already here so...

“I have one last present but-” He gulped. “Y-you have to close your eyes.” He said as he took a step forward.

“Close my eyes?” She said with a small smile as he came even closer to her. His hands took hers softly as his thumb rubbed a slight circle on her hand.

“Yeah but if you don’t like it, you can return it.”

“Is that so?” She giggled as she stared into his eyes almost knowingly. “Well, I shouldn’t keep waiting then.” She said as her eyes closed and he felt like the world had disappeared around them, leaving them in the snowy park.

Boomer calmed his breathing as he stared at her. The soft pink of her cheeks from the bitter cold and how the smallest bit of snow landed on her lashes. Never before had his heart pounded as heavily as it did now as he closed the gap and kissed her with the gentleness of the first fallen snow.

He felt the sudden push against his lips. It was a beautiful sensation that he never thought would happen as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him further. It was an answer to a question he had been asking for months, hell, maybe even years. Wondering if he could step over this line in the sand and it would be okay. That their friendship, trust and loyalty wouldn’t be corrupted but instead, stronger. It was clear that the line had been stepped over, no, completely erased without a second thought.

Their lips pulled apart and he couldn’t tell if the redness up her neck was from the cold nipping at their skin or the intense blushing from what just happened. All he knew was that she was smiling at him, just like she always had before.

“Boomer?” Her voice was just loud enough for his ears.

“Yeah?” He said almost out of breath.

“I don’t need a gift receipt.”

That fluttering in his chest began again as his face broke out into the brightest smile she had ever seen.

“That's great news.” Boomer smirked as he spun her around and dipped her by the waist like he saw in all those cheesy romance movies. “Because the return date had just expired.” He said just as he kissed her again.

---

His hand was warm from the take out cup of hot chocolate while his other hand was laced with hers and it felt more natural than breathing. She took her own cup to her lips, tasting the sweet chocolate as it helped to heat up the rest of her body and he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not because he was still in disbelief that he was here with her.

Bubbles caught him staring and instead of a playful scold, she inched closer to him and placed a quick peck on his cheek.

“Merry Christmas Bubbles.”

“Merry Christmas.”

---

I hope you liked it <3

#powerpuffsecretsanta2020 #boombubbles #ppg x rrb #bubbles ppg #boomer ppg #bubbles x boomer #thewritingstar

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a-libra-writes · 5 years ago

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SFW Alphabet - Ramsay Snow

OhhHHHh BOy lets uh, lets do it guys. Let’s chill with Ramsay boy. Damn you Iwan Rheon

Sorry for slow updates, its been uh …. Week, for everyone, and im slowly getting back into my old groove. I’m tryna catch up with requests, which is what this is!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

When Ramsay wants you in his arms or misses tasting your lips, he seeks you out immediately. Oftentimes, his affection is overwhelming and he usually disregards whatever you’re in the middle of. His hugs can be too tight, his kisses are hungry and rough. He doesn't know how else to be; that's just his default.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

His capacity for actual friendship is questionable, but Ramsay knows how to fake amiability. He can be very charming when he puts his mind to it, and he has several like-minded men who follow him, although you question if that's actual "friendship".

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

You'd notice that Ramsay would get into these moods where he wanted you close as possible, so he'd capture you in an embrace and stubbornly keep you in it until he's satisfied. If it's during the day, fine, but when he does it at night you get too warm … well, it's not terrible when it's cold outside. He always holds too tight, and if you're shorter, he always rests his chin on your head. His grip loosens when he falls asleep, so you can wiggle out easier if it's getting too hot.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Ramsay never had interest in such things, even with his father lecturing him about having a proper highborn wife and producing heirs. It's not interesting enough for him, and while he did marry you, you were something of an exception. For cooking, he's actually quite good at cleaning animals and roasting them, and he'll do it now and again even if there's a full kitchen staff in the Dreadfort. Cleanliness is another matter entirely. He's finally dressing like a proper lord, but he'll still leave his things in disarray.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

… Messily.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He initially had little regard for commitment. He had all sorts of mistresses and girls, and if they became jealous or angry, he'd do away with them. He wasn't looking forward to martial duty, either. However, he makes dozens of exceptions for you, not just in this case. You two may have been arranged to marry, but he finds you far too amusing to bother straying.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

For the most part, he rarely is. Ramsay always seems overcome by some strong emotion when he’s with you, and he can be a little much in how he expresses that affection. There are times when he’s just too rough when he’s with you, especially when you’re intimate, and you need to scold him and tell him to knock it off. There are times when he appears calm, but you know he’s simmering on something. However, as time went on, you began to notice that he’s had days where he’s quietly observed you or held you more carefully, as he remembered your earlier words and wanted to please you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Ramsay wouldn’t consider his overwhelming embraces “hugs”, he’d actually find that a strange way to put it. He didn’t recall receiving anything like that in his childhood, after all, and when you give him a simple one, he pulls you into a full embrace instead. He’s very warm, and his arms are strong as he holds you tight. You can hear the rumble of his laugh as you rest against his chest. While he likes it when you hug him, he prefers his method.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He said those words fairly early, and at first you thought he was mocking you. Maybe he was at the time, putting on his sweet voice and petting your hair, and he only laughed when you slapped his hand away. He started saying it every other day, just to see that annoyed look on your face, or better, when you’d shove him aside. Roose told him not to agitate you, but Ramsay was having too much fun with his new “wife”.

You didn’t notice when he stopped saying it regularly, just because he had a slew of other little problems you had to deal with. Managing the Dreadfort meant there was never a dull day, between your dear husband’s hobbies and your father-in-law’s looming presence. What you did notice is that Ramsay would become increasingly more clingy, his jealousy was triggered more easily, and he was far more greedy when you slept with him. He used to just drop by a few times a week to bother you, but now he seemed to want to find you several times throughout your day.

He was getting quite attached, you noticed, which wasn’t entirely bad. Sometimes he was even sweet, even if he had that mischievous glint the whole time. Then, on a fairly innocuous day, Ramsay said the words again as he was leaving. Your ears burned a little, because they sounded different. He didn’t even seem to notice; he was already gone. For better or for worse, the Dreadfort’s bastard was very taken with you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Ramsay is terrible with his jealousy, so you know to discourage the more unscrupulous lords and soldiers that visit the Dreadfort. Basic courtesies are fine, but you’re wary of any man giving a little too much attention to your dress or looks. Even if they’re just trying to flatter the Lady of the Dreadfort, you know it won’t end well for them if Ramsay overhears. You find it difficult to pity the more lecherous men, however.

His jealousy manifests as possessiveness, and you’re sure that he doesn’t think through it at all. Sometimes it’s an instant reaction, pulling you to him and away from a flirting lord, sometimes it’s a more violent one, especially if he can get away with it. More than once you’d have to pull Ramsay away and soothe him, telling him to think of what his father would say. When you two are alone, he suddenly wants every part of you, leaving deep love bites on your neck and breasts while he rips at your dress.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Ramsay’s kisses are hard and hungry, as if he’s starved for your attention, even if you’ve been giving him plenty all night. He likes to bite at your lip and bite down to your neck, and if any blood is drawn, he wants to lick it up right away. He almost always has to hold you close or push you against a wall while he does this, which is good, because sometimes you feel a little dizzy afterward. He loves your lips and leaving love bites on your chest - you’re pretty confident he prefers dresses that are more difficult to move and unlace, just because he wants to rip them.

He isn’t too picky where you return the affections. He just wants your attention. He’ll be more than happy if you initiate the kisses first, however, it’s a surefire way to distract him from whatever he was doing.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

If you didn't want children, Ramsay wouldn't mind, even if it was both your duties to provide heirs. He would leave childcare to you or the septa, although sometimes looking at your child would amuse him. He'd like it if the girls took after you and the boys would be more similar to him.

Ramsay would be much more involved once the children were older. When he was feeling patient, he'd teach them archery and hunting, even the girls -- he'd be just as proud of a daughter being able to kill her first deer. If a child particularly took after him, he'd give them a hound and teach them how to train it.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s usually got a strong arm wrapped around you and bringing you close to him. Your usual morning routine is wiggling out from under him and getting ready to wash up. You’re just about to leave the bath when Ramsay finally joins you, still looking a little bleary-eyed but very awake and wanting your attention right away. He might keep you in the baths a little longer, or he’ll follow you about as you get ready. Some mornings you wake up cold and realize he left at some point; he eventually joins you again at breakfast, completely awake and full of energy. You can only imagine what he was getting up to.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Ramsay prefers to go to bed at the same time as you, but sometimes he gets completely absorbed in… whatever his amusement of the day is, and he’ll walk into your shared chambers smelling like mud, blood and the woods. He’ll only obey your order to take a bath if you join him, and of course he’ll want to touch you and kiss you wherever he pleases. This will continue to the bed because it’s a very, very rare night when Ramsay doesn’t want his lovely wife.

He often sleeps without any clothes, or just his pants, so you’ve got a bare chest that’s as hot as a furnace to rest against… Which, in the winter, is quite nice, but otherwise can be too much. Sometimes he’s let go of you in his sleep or you’ve scooted from under him. If you’re especially cold, you can rest against his whole back and wrap your arm around his stomach. He sleeps so deeply, he doesn’t even notice when your cold feet touch him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

When you first married Ramsay, he’d say the most outlandish and terrible things, just to get a reaction out of you. You learned to stop giving him the feedback he wanted and sometimes you’d say equally ridiculous and awful things, just to stun him, but he’d only be more amused. It ended up being a sort of morbid game between you two.

“You’re late to dinner, dear husband, that’s the third time this week. Seeing your mistress, no doubt.”

“I was, my lovely wife, but first I took care of that soldier you smiled at so much. Would you like to see him?”

“Perhaps after dinner. Did you clean up, at least? If the halls or the hounds are bloody, I’m going to be very cross.”

Roose isn’t amused by any of this.

Ramsay would tell you truthful things when you never expected it. Sometimes he’d watch you brush your hair and suddenly mention something about his mother - what he remembered, anyway - or you’d pick up his bow and he’d eagerly tell you how he learned. The way he’d talk and look at you was very different from back when he tried to scare you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

You can never really predict what will set Ramsay off entirely or what will just make him simmer. You know better than to say “bastard”, because you aren’t an idiot, but sometimes his temper with his men and the servants wasn’t consistent. With you, he never had any sort of explosive wrath, but you didn’t notice times when he was almost pouting because of your refusal to aknowledge whatever stupid thing he was doing at the time. If he was truly angry with you, he’d storm out of the room and take it out on some unlucky soul.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You never expected Ramsay to be attentive to such things, but sometimes you’d notice he’d hunt an animal you liked to eat, or he’d present you with a dress in the color you liked. He was always so proud of himself, it was almost endearing. Some days he just needed your approval.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s far more privy to you than you ever thought. Ramsay has quite a bit of your daily schedule memorized, he knows who you talk to the most in the Dreadfort, which handmaidens you’re friends with and which of his men is perhaps a little too eager to greet you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

For him, it had to be when you first pushed him down and straddled him. You were sick of his shit, he’d pushed you too far that day, and you bluntly told him how you felt. Ramsay held onto you in an instant but he did little else, just wanting you to get your anger out and excited to see where you went with it.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s very protective, especially as his affection for you grew. More than anything, Ramsay wanted to protect you himself. If you two were travelling somewhere, he wanted to stay at your side, even if there were guards and you told him it would be fine. If you have to be left at the Dreadfort, he likes that even less, and when the war began he’d actually train his hounds to sleep outside your room. You kept telling him it was unnecessary, but at least the hounds behaved around you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Honestly, he’s pretty terrible about remembering any sort of birthday or anniversary. When you remembered his name day, he was taken aback and didn’t exactly know what he was supposed to do. Before the Dreadfort, and after he came to it, he’d never actually done anything like this. But Ramsay liked the attention you gave him, and he liked it when you were pleased with him.

While he never actively planned them, sometimes he’d whisk you away from whatever you were doing to show you something - sometimes it was archery, sometimes it was a new horse that you might like. It always surprised you, and you were amused by how boyish he could be when he was excited by something and wanted to share it with you. Of course, you preferred the talk of horses and archery as opposed to his more … distasteful interests.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

You were fully aware of Ramsay’s violent actions and questionable little interests, and you wanted nothing to do with them. Compared to that, his jealousy and neediness paled, but those were still irksome when they appeared.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Ramsay is fairly indifferent to his hair or what he wears, but he started to like it when you fussed over him. You'd pat his hair down or brush off some dirt on his cloak, and he'd start to realize how much he liked it. Sometimes he'd be careless on purpose just to get your attention and feel your hands on him. If there was something you liked about his physical appearance, he'd start to feel a little proud about it.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He wouldn’t say as much if anyone said it, in fact, he’d probably laugh at such words. But if anything were to happen to you, or you were taken from him, Ramsay would truly feel a deep, sinking bitterness that he couldn’t shake. He’d be far more irritable, and his usual amusements wouldn’t be enough. He might become more reckless and dangerous, if anything.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Ramsay suddenly got the idea in his head to teach you archery, and he became quite single-minded in it. He liked to stand behind you and give you instruction, sometimes biting your ear or kissing your neck if he felt you weren’t paying attention. Of course you’d elbow him and try to focus. You could swear he was proud when you hit your mark, and anytime he’d spy you practicing on your own, he’d just have to watch for a few minutes before he became restless and went out to meet you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He’s so used to women crying or begging around him, and men doing just the same. He likes the way you glare at him and defy him, even just outright ignore him. He’s no fool, Ramsay knows when you’re actually uncomfortable or even fearful, but the fact you don’t pull your steely gaze away from him and address him with such a harsh voice keeps him quite interested.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Ramsay sleeps like the dead. He doesn't stir or make much noise; he may as well be a sack of rocks. It takes enough strength to move out of his embrace, and you know better than to let him fall asleep on your chest. You'll be stuck there until morning. While he doesn't snore, you noticed that sometimes his eyebrows and lips will twitch. He looks unusually peaceful when he's asleep, so it's amusing to see that expression change into how he usually looks, even for just a moment. As deep as his sleep is, he's alert and ready to go shortly after he wakes up, even if his hair is in all directions.

#ramsay snow #ramsay snow x reader #sfw alphabet #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #this lil shit right here

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lemonfezt · 5 years ago

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tohru, kyo and yuki analysis

my two cents (warning: dramatic post and analysis coming thru...) *I reread the manga for the 4th time and I still have feels to share.

I know how overrated this post is but this is the only manga wherein the trio: Tohru, Kyo and Yuki are absolute favorites of mine (when I read shoujo, I always have this habit of liking the secondary characters more than the mcs coz they can be annoying sometimes) but not once have I felt annoyed or bored by this three. (this is also one of the rare mangas wherein I love almost all the characters except ren and the abusive parents in this series and im forever neutral with akito).

One of the reasons that made me drawn to the manga is how Ms. Takaya gave us these ensemble of characters suffering and trying to cope the trauma that had developed (whether the inhumane and disturbing living experiences of the Sohmas; being bullied by classmates; losing a parent; abusive households; etc.) . Focusing on the two zodiac mcs, Yuki never experienced love from anyone before. He was isolated, abused, and tortured multiple times. The thing that gave him hope was when he helped Tohru on her way home. And even though he somehow lived away from the main house, the isolation caused him the scare to reveal his real self and has the tendency to mingle with others coz he’s ashamed so he put on this princely act. Similar to that, Kyo was given the false kind of love from his mother (whom I also felt sorry for because she was also a victim of abuse) and was estranged from his father. While he began to experience love from kazuma and briefly from kyoko, he was still isolated and treated poorly by others. To add fuel to the fire, the guilt he experienced when he saw an old companion of his died before his eyes became too much for him. Because of these, both guys hold a tremendous amount of self-hatred. I applaud the mangaka for putting two characters who hated each other but share a similar burden despite the different root of their suffering. Maybe that’s why I kinda get sad when some compare kyo and yuki. No, I’m not pertaining to who is their favorite character or who they relate more or who’s the best boi etc. coz that’s completely fine and normal. What I’m disappointed is when they compare the two to the extent of downgrading the other’s problems (I remember a post years ago that he hates Kyo coz he was a contributer to yuki’s trauma during childhood and the recent one was when my friend thinks that yuki’s too cagey considering that kyo experienced suffering a lot more so he thinks that yuki’s a bit of a drama queen...in which I happen to find incredulous and quite shallow tbh. Both of these characters have such brilliant and realistic character development with the help of their support systems.

Now, Tohru. For me, she’s a hit or miss character to many readers/viewers (she's not particularly a favorite by many) coz when I read posts on her character analysis, the majority loved her but some say she’s flat or too selfless to the point of being unrealistic, boring or too weak to stand up for herself and the infamous “Mary Sue”. I know everyone has opinions but I really felt the need to defend her coz I really have strong opinions about her. It takes a tremendous amount of bravery and courage to be able to smile like that and be positive when the most important person in your life is gone. Yes, you may look at her like she’s too much of those kind airheaded chicks you commonly see in shoujo manga but some fail to realize how much of a broken character she is. I feel like we're so used to a character with a tragic past to be represented as angsty or dark that will take a few chapter or arcs to thaw the ice but it's so refreshing to see a protagonist who chose a different approach and always looks at the bright side of things, which can be both inspiring and destructive. Behind that smile hides a deep sadness. She has that deep obsession with her mother to the point of copying her father’s language and antagonizing him because she thinks he will take away his mom (which hit me so hard). So while some think how unrealistic Tohru moved on with such a carefree and positive outlook, if you look at the entire manga, Tohru’s development is not just a “girl who has fallen in love”, or like her kindness came out of nowhere like some deredere characters. She, too is still dealing with a lot of grief and pain to the extent of having developed her fear of abandonment and after losing her mother, she made a vow to always keep her as a priority to avoid losing her in her memories. Her grieving process did not end at the start of the manga, in fact, you can see how she still hasn’t moved on from her mother (she’s still treated her like someone who is alive despite acknowledging that she died) Her kindness was due to her upbringing and not just she was designed that way. Tohru's approach of bringing hope to the Sohmas is because of the way she grew up in a loving environment and has so much love to give. It's also a way to keep the memory of her mother alive (some subtle hints that were overlooked was when she advises them with the wisdom kyoko taught her). Tohru's high emotional intelligence is her best asset and something that I applaud for throughout the whole manga. There was never a time wherein I thought that Tohru being the light to others was overdramatic and unrealistic. It speaks how she was raised with so much love and she spreads this unconditional love to them. So yeah, she’s not your typical shojo girl who is automatically an angel sent from above, she is just as broken as the Sohmas and other characters and the way how she developed to be more confident and sure of herself while remaining that shining tohru that we all love made her earn the spot as best shojo girl for me. I'm really emotional when I talk about Tohru or even other characters coz they speak such a personal level to me.

I also might do analysis on some characters but for now these three deserve love. Words won’t suffice how these three and fruits basket made an impact to me and I always re-read this during the lowest points of my life.

----------

#furuba spoilers #furuba #fruits basket #fruits basket 2020 #fruits basket spoilers #fruits basket 2019 #tohru honda #kyo sohma #yuki sohma #fruits basket analysis #furuba analysis

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ofgoodmenarchive · 4 years ago

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The second in a series of drabbles exploring my Blood Mage!Dorian.

Spring Thaw

Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself.

No- he was definitely getting ahead of himself.

At the very least, Dorian shouldn't have discarded the Venatori's equipment so impulsively. It was possible- even likely- the Herald would be immune to his charms. If no attraction existed between them to start with, then he'd forsaken his current, sole employment for nothing.

Introducing himself was also a complex matter. His subject of fixation was more often than not swarmed by Chantry puppets- Inquisition puppets, whatever.

Either way, they'd be wary of something like him.

Which would be perfectly sensible, if we're being honest...

For days he stalked them through the Hinterlands, camping out of sight- preferably at high vantage points. On this occasion he'd discovered a homely cave dug into a cliff, with an ideal view of the Inquisition camp. They'd organised around a half-crumbled tower, wrangling full command of the King's Road at this end.

It took time to accomplish- Dorian had spectated most of the work. The Templar-Mage conflict was their main concern- by now almost completely eliminated. Still there was plenty of trouble to be had, Dorian knew.

Are they even aware of the Venatori yet?

Indeed for now they mostly focused on the resident lyrium-smugglers. To be fair, they were a nuisance- and had not enough sense to leave the Inquisition unmolested.

In his shadowing he concluded a few things, at least.

For one, the Herald was a mage with an affinity for ice. Admittedly Dorian felt stupid for not realising on their first encounter. That sword of light channelled the man's will, swaying him towards close combat. Odd for a mage- so Dorian didn't berate himself much for failing to notice.

Secondly, the man was Spirit-bound. To what sort of spirit and for what purpose, Dorian couldn't guess. He'd only concluded this due to a chance look at his weapon- a summoning circle was inscribed into the hilt. An insanely reckless thing to attempt- unless your will and the spirit's could work in perfect unison.

We have something in common, at least!

Though Dorian was positive none regarded him as an Abomination.

Lastly, the Herald was unaccustomed to such close work with humans. Dorian rarely overheard conversation but frequently witnessed him seeming lost, needing elaboration on what appeared self-evident.

Overall he was somewhat peculiar, even for an elf.

“You know...” Dorian mused while building a small fire for the night. “I'm already feeling chipper. It's probably a trick of the mind, since there's potential for a meal...but wouldn't it be funny if my desire was feeding into itself?”

An unamused grumble responded and he frowned at his shadow- slumped morosely against the cave entrance, like a wrung out towel.

“Yes, yes, I know that's not how it works.” Dorian rebuffed, scowling. “I'm just saying I don't mind all this creeping around! Or I don't mind it yet...give it a while, I suppose...”

The Herald of Andraste...

…probably also does not speak to himself.

“Well I'm not speaking to myself, am I?!” He countered, huffing. “I'm speaking to you!- And you're being especially bratty today!”

Desire slouched down the cliff-wall until it was almost flat.

Dorian spluttered with laughter.

“You're like a cat, you know!? An ominous, perverted cat.”

The creature bubbled sadly, giving no answer.

Rolling his eyes, Dorian would have returned to working on the fire- except Desire's head emerged from it's puddle, leering down the slope.

“Hrm...?” He followed it's gaze, squinting. “Something happening down there...?”

A tall figure wandering from camp, accompanied by a much shorter one- the Herald and his dwarf ally.

“Where are they wandering off to on their own...?” He frowned at his shadow. “Should they really be doing that?”

Desire shrugged, shoulders casting ripples along it's spooled form.

“For some reason...” Dorian swiped his staff from nearby. “I don't like it. Let's make sure nothing bothers them, yes?”

Maker forbid the elf get himself killed- it would be a waste of his whole week!

The pair strode upon the King's Road, moonlight leading their path and their path leading Dorian- always close behind but not too close. Eventually they paused at a road-marker, muttered between themselves and appeared to wait.

Are they missing one of their people, or something..?

Regardless of the situation, whatever was meant to occur, didn't. Exchanging anxious stares, the duo walked further along, ignorant to Dorian's presence as he slunk from shadow to shadow.

Within minutes all heard the same thuggish shouting- accented in Ferelden, somewhere amidst an outcrop of limestone. Sprinting forward, the Herald and his companion hunched behind cover, in frantic discussion.

Wanting a full perspective, Dorian climbed ledges as stealthily as possible. Once he had an ideal view, he sat and assessed.

Lyrium-smugglers again, of course. Carta, perhaps? No one Dorian had ties with, whoever they were. More than a dozen- with enough heavies in their ranks to pose serious threat to a miniscule party.

A party of two, for example, would likely be obliterated.

Dorian could see why there was discourse between the Herald and his friend. An Inquisition scout knelt among the group, bleeding and mid-interrogation.

So they did lose someone...

Now the Herald wished to attempt rescue and his companion reasonably disagreed. Even out of earshot, Dorian could tell who was winning- through pure stubbornness alone.

Glancing behind, he spotted that looming, bratty shadow of his.

“I hope you're ready to actually work for your meal.”

Not a second passed after his speech before all erupted into chaos. The Herald careened through the group, carried along paves of ice. Flailing and visibly irritated, the dwarf scrambled onto a high-point, where he could launch arrows from some elaborate crossbow.

Skidding from his perch, Dorian leapt into the fray.

Blood had already touched ground- that didn't bode well for anything near him. The grinning skull of his staff raised high, he willed every drop of lost life into himself. It swirled around him in crimson ribbons- he hadn't even channelled a form before people screamed.

“MALEFICAR!”

Earning a wild, blood-crazed laugh from him as he barrelled forth, slicing enemies with their own pain- weaponised. Anyone struck deep enough and lacking proper resistance became crazed, attacking all in their proximity.

It had been a while since he'd stretched his abilities for combat- quite invigorating, really! Not to mention all the blood- a fair snack, though not his usual preference. Licking some from his fingers, Dorian launched into another attack and found himself brushing passed blizzard.

Swivelling to face it, he bore his teeth in a personable manner.

Winter-touched eyes regarded him quizzically, then vanished into battle.

Moments later and it was done- together with the scout, their enemy was reduced to a pile of corpses.

Inhaling, Dorian glimpsed the dwarf and recruit in breathless conversation. Elsewhere stood the Herald- sheathing his weapon, sighing with relief.

Talk-talk-talk-talk-talk-talk-talk.

Maker, stop it! Yes, I see.

This was the closest opportunity he was chance to get.

Awkwardly, uncharacteristically- Dorian hesitated.

TALK-TALK-TALK-T

I SAID STOP THAT! I'M GOING!

Mustering composure, he sauntered that direction, beaming.

“Greetings, friend!”

The Herald blinked from wiping stained hands, eyes widening a second later.

“...Who are you?” He mumbled, automatically hunching to Dorian's level- as he'd witnessed many times.

“Me?” He laughed airily- had to restrain more when the elf flinched. “My name is Dorian Pavus...and you would be the Herald of Andraste, no?”

Much hesitation from this so-called Herald- the poor man's eyes darted as if seeking attendance, white complexion reddening. Effortless traits for human eyes to see- and then there were aspects only Dorian would see. A quickened pulse, hitched breath, heightened temperature...

Well, that answers that question...

But...I really didn't intend to give the poor fool a heart-attack.

He hadn't even exercised his will in any fashion- just introduced himself! The Herald's clan must have been terribly isolationist, if that's all it took to fluster him.

“That...is what they say...” He managed after a long pause, brow furrowing. “...Have you been following me, Dorian Pavus?”

Oh, I like that.

So formal.

“Only for your own protection, my darling Herald!” He chuckled warmly, gestured to their fallen opponents. “As you can so clearly see.”

Another drawn out silence, pale features struggling to stay that way and failing- pink had spread to his neck.

“You are from Tevinter.” He observed clumsily.

Dorian's head tilted.

“Nothing gets passed you, does it?”

The Herald didn't seem to know how to respond, grasping air dumbly and again searching around for aid. Deciding to provide such aid, Dorian inquired;

“Since I gave you my name- may I have yours?”

Though fidgeting, he offered;

“Lavellan.”

“That would be a last name, no?”

“I do not tend to give my first.”

“You don't 'tend to'...” He smiled, shamelessly familiar. “So you might make an exception?”

Something about this caught the elf off guard- absolutely flushed. He merely stared as though Dorian proposed he strip to his undergarments.

“Uhh...hey, there.” The dwarf ambled to them before Lavellan could recover.

“Ah, hello!” Determined to make a good impression, Dorian stuck out his hand. “Dorian Pavus! Pleased to make your acquaintance!”

The Dwarf relented to a light shake, inspecting him doubtfully.

“Varric Tethras- pleased to make yours..” He knit his brow, glanced between the two men. “...I guess.”

All the while Lavellan was statuesque, face crimson and attention flying everywhere.

“...You okay, Lord Heraldness?”

“I...am fine- I am fine.” He practically squeaked. “I think...Cassandra will wish us back at camp...right now...im...immediately.”

Incapable of restraining himself, Dorian roared with mirth and hoped it didn't sound unkind.

“We'll talk soon, my dear Herald.” He bid farewell with more obvious warmth. Lavellan swiftly fled- half-marching, half-scurrying, Varric at his heels.

-–

Dirt and blood raced beneath his feet. Evallan Lavellan fought to correct the hue of his face.

“...Are you okay?” Varric- barely audible above the sound of his heartbeat.

“I am fine!” He snapped, shrill. “I just...was not prepared for...for that.”

Varric's expression scrunched inwards, perplexed.

“Prepared for what?”

Speech died on Evallan's tongue, frowning helplessly at his companion. He barely had the words in his own language, how could he explain with the vocabulary they both shared?

All the human mages he'd encountered- they were so reserved, tame.

He couldn't imagine any human to carry themselves so shamelessly- draped in blood and bone, cackling and grinning through danger. Formidable yet exercising flawless control- so at ease in his nature.

And Mythal have mercy- Those eyes- deadly flares of red and gold.

Absolutely wild.

He must be mad.

“...Oh, Maker's breath, Herald...” Evallan became aware he'd been glaring into space. “Don't worry- I won't tell anyone you took one look at the weirdo-'Vint-blood-mage and turned into a tomato.”

He flushed every shade of red imaginable, snapping-

“I said I was not prepared!”

“I wasn't prepared either!” Varric chortled. “And I do not look like you do right now!”

Groaning, Evallan sped his pace, wishing for nothing more than to hide in his tent and scream until humiliation subsided.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #inquisition #dai #dorian pavus #blood mage dorian #blood mage #maleficar #pavellan #lavellan #m!lavellan #inquisitor lavellan #dorian pavus x inquisitor lavellan #dorian pavus x inquisitor #trying not to spam tags when all the content I make is dragon age rip #my writing #my aus

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tartareus · 4 years ago

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Do you condone/ship incest? I was reading your rules and got confused about your sentence where you said if people are uncomfortable with fictional consensual incest this isn’t the blog for you. Except Incest is incest regardless of if it’s fiction

hi there, friend, how do you do?

while i'm not particularly fond of anons (nex time you'd like to discuss something regarding my rules and/or character portrayal, i strongly encourage you to do so via ims - i don't bite, and if our points of view don't quite match? that's alright, i promise i'll leave you in peace :) ) for various reasons, i'm so glad you've read my rules (that probably makes you one of the few who follow me - at least i presume you do, idk - who has done so, so thank you so much!), i cannot stress enough how important they are to me. if i happen to follow you, rest assured that i have read yours (unless, ofc, i couldn't find one in your blog - in any case, if i happen to accidentally break one of yours, just hmu or gimme a nudge).

considering that you've asked more than one question, i'll answer to you in separate sections - needless to say that while i break it down your questions, the answer might become a little longer than usual (again, i'm sorry). i'll keep this tagged, in case any of my followers don't feel like reading about this. without further ado, let’s dive in.´

“do you condone/ship incest?”

short answer? nope. but that is not a black or white question i’m afraid. no, i – nox, the human behind this blog of fictional characters – personally do not condone incest , never have and never will, and don’t ship it. i do, however, ship consanguinamory on rare occasions, and when i do happen to write it i never do it in a good light.

for those who are not familiar with the term, here’s a little bit of info about it x && x. in short, the key difference between them is: incest is usually linked abuse (a fictional example that can be used, taking in consideration one of my very own muses, in this case is margot verger – who was sadly abused by her brother in the hannibal books) while consanguinamory (the lannisters, for example, or even the sharpe siblings from crimson peak are examples of consanguineous relationships) is the consensual romantic and/or sexual relationship between members of the same family who are of consenting age.

[ personally, i find both of them gross as fuuck irl but when it comes to fictional works i may get over this first disgust and ponder more on that && take in consideration the characters arch, plot, thoughts and the whole world they are set in. ]

i suppose the turning point here is the consent. i never, never, condone any sort of abuse – not in fiction and neither in real life – and while it’s a subject that bothers me to no end in real life, when it comes to fiction i am less inclined to project into them. i may write dark and toxic relationships, but i obviously do not condone them. that’s the point here – people on this hellsite usually mix the two together (condoning something and shipping/writing it, that is) when in fact they shouldn’t even be in the same box to begin with.

let’s say you write a fictional serial killer – norman bates, tate langdon, hannibal lecter, catherine tramell (that chick from basic instinct), patrick bateman, mrs lovett and sweeney todd, kai anderson, bellatrix, grindelwald and voldemort (the list of plausible examples could go on forever…) – here and ship with them; does it mean that you, the writer, condone every single action and choice your muse does? if writing something purely fictional equals to condoning it in real life, well… the world is even more fucked up than i first thought.

you see, in this little exercise in imagination, you could’ve easily picked a good guy or gal to write, the hero; the goody two shoes. why didn’t you? well, it’s complicated to pin point why some are drawn to darker works of fiction and characters while others are not, i suppose each individual has their own reasons && i can only speak for myself when i say that i am drawn to these sort of fictional works because they the safest way to explore dark topics that pertain to human society. on my side, it’s nothing but raw curiosity.

there’s also the issue of how different cultures see these relationships. in case you haven’t noticed, i am not from the states but actually from brazil. especially in the rural area, it’s not uncommon for second cousins to date or even marry (ew, i know, pretty gross). that’s something that is luckily falling out of practice, but you can easily find it, more so in the poor rural areas that are really far from the cities.

you may have noticed that most of the sources for the terms come from a blog that advocates real life consanguinamory – but make no mistake, i don’t support it. these were the only places i’ve found as sources in a quick look online. i don’t support it irl, but whatever consenting adults are doing amongst themselves is no concern of mine – i have no say on the matter and all in all, i don’t give a damn. i just don’t like it. everything i’ve discussed here is related to fiction, consent and is only ever related to people of consenting age.

“i was reading your rules and got confused about your sentence where you said if people are uncomfortable with fictional consensual incest this isn’t the blog for you. except incest is incest regardless of if it’s fiction”

to be honest with you, anon, i couldn’t possibly see how you’ve got confused with this. i thought i was pretty clear with that, but perhaps not. sorry, my english is not perfect. however, with the risk of sounding like a meme, i said what i said. if you personally feel uncomfortable or even triggered with fictional consensual incest otherwise known as consanguinamory, maybe my blog isn’t for you. not because i – as the mun – condone it, but because i might mention it or even allude to it when i write certain characters. again, consent is the main thing here – you won’t ever see me writing that awful part of margot’s past, but i might mention it on some threads as it is part of her trauma but i will write jaime’s feelings regarding cersei and joanna’s love for tywin – and that should not be overlooked.

“except incest is incest regardless of if it’s fiction”

so far so good, am i to assume that you also believe that “murder is murder, regardless of if it is fiction or not”? should we call the police on, idk, george rr martin for killing....hell knows how many characters...at this point i’m sure not even he knows. leaving my petty comment aside (it’s the arthritis, i’m always annoyed when in pain), i see where you’re coming from; fair enough. but you missed a big point here – consensual. i do not write abuse, even to the muses who – in the canon source material – have done so ( like jaime lannister himself – who’s in a consanguinamorous [therefore, falling under the category of fictional consensual incest] relationship with cersei – who abused his sister next to their son’s dead body [ yeah, jaime apologists, i’m out to get y’all...jokes aside, i do not acknowledge people claiming that cersei manipulated him into going to bed with her, while they are both shitty and toxic as fuck people, their relationship is mutually messed up – gag if you must but jaime lannister is far from innocent angel ] ) in the past. i. don’t. write. it. but i do write jaime’s feelings for cersei because they are canon and are also a big part of the character he became.

all of that, of course, has to do with my own position on the “war” between the people who believe fiction has a great power and influence over reality vs the ones who do not believe in that. personally, i find it hard to believe that fiction is a brainwashing tool rewiring people’s brains - i find the idea itself ludicrous, the ones who strongly stand for that aren’t that different from flat-earthers and people who believe in reverse racism tbh – but i do acknowledge the influence media has on society. its not nearly enough to turn someone to the “dark side” alone by itself – those who claim that videogames, for example, made them violent most likely already had something different and perhaps wrong with them before the games triggered something. i don’t believe that media creates things on people, but brings buried things (fears, feelings, emotions, hopes) back to the surface. it’s all about the stimulus.

if you wanna be scared, watch an horror movie; if you wanna be happy, a comedy video. wanna feel warm inside and live unrealistic romantic expectations vicariously through fictional characters? read a 50.000 words slow burn fluffy happy fanfic of your otp at 3 am even though you gotta wake up early in the following morning....

point is, they are not creating things, they are bringing forth responses from you that were already there in your brain (everybody has laughed before and felt fear, it’s part of human development). and how you react to certain content is entirely to you and your past. say, if you drowned as a kid on the sea - and had trauma from that - the idea of watching titanic is not so fun, is it?

it’s not my place to decide what you should do, that is entirely your own choice to make, just be aware that, as i’ve stated before countless times, i may write dark topics that may or may not be triggering to some. i do so because it is my blog, and i don’t react so harshly to this content (in fact, i love horror, thriller and dark fictional stuff – meanwhile i dread the thought of rom coms, hell knows why??) for i am lucky to be able to separate fiction from reality. basically, whilst writing a villain, i myself do not become one in real life – that part remains in fiction only and doesn’t affect me.

that is not a constant, sure. i don’t just write dark shady stuff – there’s plenty of fluffy shit on my blog, but i like to warn people beforehand to make sure we are all on the same page. it’s for your own comfort, i suppose, because i may not understand certain points of view on fiction but i will always defend your right to be comfortable and safe.

so yes, if you aren’t feeling well at that notion, please unfollow and block me if you must – i never wish to cause any discomfort to anyone – however, before you do so (that is, if you do so) i beg you to just send me an im warning me beforehand, please? that way i can block you – and your other blogs as well – so the chances of me running into you again and causing you discomfort will be minimal. that way we’ll both be on own respective lanes and happy about it. i mass follow very often and don’t usually know which blogs belong to whom (uh, did that make sense? my latina ass is not used to using whom in a sentence....), i may follow another blog (or the revamped blog) of someone who has blocked me and never even realise it – that’s not me following you around and stalking like a total creep, that’s probably me not even remembering who you are. again, sorry – i don’t mean for this to come off rude or anything but???? its the truth? you know the drill, big following list, big followers list (well, big for me tbh, i cannot remember the name or alias of 600 people for the life of me, excuse me if my memory doesn’t serve me right), hard to keep track. there will be no witch hunts, at least on my part, because i deem them to be childish and way too dramatic for my taste. if you’d like to speak in private, adult to adult, i’m always game – i dread vague posting, i personally see it as a pathetic and weak trait.

as long as you’re civil, so am i.

either way, do whatever makes you feel comfortable and safe on your blog – your mental health is far more important (to me, and hopefully to you as well) than a hobby, than tumblr, rp or whatever fictional stuff someone’s writing or reading; you are responsible for your own online experience, and i am responsible for mine. that’s an empowering thing that should be reminded more often.

i truly hope i’ve managed to answer whatever doubts or questions you had in mind, if not my ims are always open and so is my discord. once again, thank you for reading my rules and stay safe!

edit; my dumb ass forgot to drop my disco handle, since i change often. it currently is DOCTOR BITCHCRAFT !!! | 𝒏𝒐𝒙#1398

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psychosistr · 4 years ago

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The Stars of the Stage- Chapter 2

Summary: Jonathan runs into a familiar face while getting breakfast at his local coffee shop- lucky for him, that familiar face is quite handsome.

Notes: Who doesn't love a good old fashioned cute "accidentally met up at the coffee shop scenario"? x3

-First Chapter-

Needless to say, Speedwagon got the part of Sir Haste Dray without any other actors really being considered. Soon enough, the rest of the cast list was set, full scripts were sent out to the chosen actors, and rehearsals were scheduled to begin.

Jonathan was excited to see how well the show would come together. However, first, he had to finish up a few last-minute touch-ups for the script. The lines would still be essentially the same, he was just revising the movements for the climactic final fight to make it more dramatic while still being believable.

To help with his concentration, he went to work at the same place he always did when the weather was nice- his favorite coffee shop situated along the river near his apartment complex, The Ripple. He was seated outside at a table under the awning with his laptop open on the table in front of him and a large covered coffee cup with a plate of pastries off to the side. In the middle of deleting a line he’d just typed and had found less than satisfactory, however, he heard a voice calling his name.

“Mr.Joestar?” A figure accompanied the voice approaching him and he looked up to see a familiar looking blonde man dressed in a white tank top and a dark hat. “Ah, thought that was you. ‘ow’s it goin’, Mr.Joestar?” The man greeted him with a friendly smile.

“Oh! Mr.Speedwagon!” Jonathan smiled at him, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the keyboard to see the other man more clearly. “What a pleasant surprise.” He gestured to the seat across from himself at the table. “Stopping in for a drink? If you would like, you’re more than welcome to join me.”

“Mighty kind o’ y’.” Speedwagon grinned and headed for the entrance to the café. “Lemme just go grab a cup an’ I’ll be right back.” He was quick to return with a much smaller cup than Jonathan’s own and a simple croissant rather than Jonathan’s platter of pastries. “So, do y’ come ‘ere often?”

“Actually, yes.” Jonathan chuckled, pointing to his apartment complex down the street. “I actually live right over there. I usually end up here nearly every day of the week, depending on how busy I am.”

“Ha! Y’ gotta be kiddin’ me!” The other man chuckled and pointed at an apartment complex on the opposite side of the river facing the one that Jonathan had pointed at. “I live over in that one, on the fourth floor. Just moved in a few weeks back an’ I’m learnin’ me way ‘round the neighborhood.”

“Really?” Jonathan looked at where he’d pointed then back to his own, noting how the fourth floor lined up with the floor he lived on almost evenly. “Why, it would appear that we are neighbors then.” He chuckled a bit- life sure did work in mysterious ways. “In all likelihood, we’ll certainly be seeing quite a bit of each other.”

Speedwagon took a sip of his drink with a pleased hum. “Well, I sure wouln’ mind that one bit.” He set the cup down and broke off a piece of his croissant. “Say, while I got y’ ‘ere, there’s somethin’ I’d been meanin’ t’ ask y’.”

Jonathan watched the blonde curiously while eating one of his own confections. “Oh?” He swallowed and gestured for Speedwagon to continue. “What would that be, Mr.Speedwagon?”

The blonde man winced slightly at the title. “Ugh, please don’ call me that..makes me feel old. Just Speedwagon’s fine, or even Robert- but don’ go callin’ me Bob or anythin’ like that or I may have t’ deck y’.”

Jonathan chuckled a bit and nodded in agreement. “In that case, please refrain from calling me ‘Mr.Joestar’- just Jonathan is fine, or even Jojo, as that is how most of my friends and colleagues refer to me.”

“Alrigh’ then, Jojo.” Speedwagon’s smile returned, apparently pleased with the increased familiarity between the two of them now. “I read through the script that y’ sent me, an’ I was wonderin’ if I could ask y’ somethin’ ‘bout me character.”

Jonathan nodded as he listened, wondering if perhaps he’d made something unclear about Sir Haste Dray that he would need to explain in more detail. “About Sir Dray? Of course, what would you like to know?”

“Well..it might jus’ be me readin’ too much of meself int’ the character..but..” He paused, tapping his finger against the coffee cup as if considering his wording carefully. “I know the romantic focus for Lord Samuel Sunstone ‘s Lady Bella Penrith..but..does Sir Dray, y’know, ‘ave feelin’s for Lord Sunstone, too?”

Jonathan’s eyes widened slightly. “What..?” Had he really…?

Speedwagon looked back up at him with a thoughtful expression. “Don’ get me wrong, I love the relationship with Samuel an’ Bella, i’s really sweet an’ a long time comin’..but..I dunno, when I read Dray’s lines, the way ‘e talks about lovin’ Samuel’s good nature an’ ‘ow ‘e completely devotes ‘imself to the guy..it just makes me think ‘e might ‘ave a thing for ‘im, y’know?” He frowned at Jonathan’s wide-eyed stare. “I mean, if I’m wrong, y’ can tell me, I was just wonderin’-”

He was startled when Jonathan suddenly reached across the table with both hands and grabbed Speedwagon’s shoulders with an excited smile on his face and stars in his eyes. “You actually picked up on that?! Oh, I cannot believe it! I did not know if that would still come through, but I am delighted you were able to see it!!”

Speedwagon blinked in confusion. “Wait..so..I got it right..?”

“You did!” Jonathan suddenly realized that he had grabbed the smaller man and released him, settling back down in his seat with a slight flush to his cheeks. “My apologies, I became too excited again..I just..I am so happy you were able to notice the truth about Sir Dray’s feelings!” He was still smiling, he couldn’t help it with how excited he was. “I wanted to write their relationship into the story as well, but William said it would confuse the audience since most don’t associate such things with the time period. I tried to tell him that there was an entire subculture and code-system practiced by homosexuals during the Victorian era, but he said it would feel like too much for the audience to believe. So, I was forced to remove a few scenes with Samuel and Dray having the discussion about Dray’s sexual identity and the implications of such a thing between himself and Samuel, but I did not want to change any of the other scenes with them, so I left the dialogue unchanged. I cannot tell you how happy I am to know that their connection was still able to shine through enough for someone to recognize it!”

Speedwagon smiled too, beaming with pride. “I’m jus’ glad I wasn’ misjudgin’ the guy. People tell me all the time I’m tryin’ t’ projec’ me own ‘preferences’ ont’ characters. Good t’ know I was right on this one.”

Jonathan paused for a moment hearing those words, trying not to blush as a rogue idea crossed his mind. “So then..you are..?”

Speedwagon winked at him with a chuckle. “Yep. Gay as a maypole, mate.”

“O-Oh..I see..” Jonathan glanced away, his cheeks feeling warm. Really, now, how ridiculous was that? He barely knew the man and after one short conversation he felt like a school boy with a crush? Honestly, why was he like this? “Well, in any case, I am truly glad you identified so well with Sir Dray. Honestly, I was overjoyed that William allowed me to caste you for the part- you were a perfect fit.”

“Glad y’ thought so, ‘e caught my attention from the moment I read ‘is description.” He took a sip of his coffee and finished up his croissant. “By the way..mind if I ask y’ one more question ‘bout Dray an’ Samuel?”

“You may ask as many questions as you please- I am always excited to talk about my work.” Jonathan replied honestly, more than happy to discuss such things with someone insightful enough to understand his writing so well.

“Hmh, good t’ know.” Speedwagon smiled and set down his coffee cup before asking his question. “I jus’ wanted t’ know..are Dray’s feelin’s for Samuel one-sided, or does Samuel return some of it? Like I said, I’m fine with Samuel an’ Bella’s romance, but thinkin’ that ‘e doesn’ know ‘bout Dray’s feelin’s or jus’ allows the guy t’ follow ‘im ‘round knowin’ ‘e loves ‘im is kinda sad, y’know?”

“Ah..that is a good question.” Jonathan’s smile softened into something more understanding. “To answer it simply- no, Dray’s feelings are not one-sided. Samuel is quite aware of how his dearest friend feels, and, in one of the scenes I unfortunately had to cut, he discusses with his mentor that he has feelings for both his best friend and his long-time crush. He goes on to say that, in a perfect world, he would be allowed to marry both of them and live a long, happy life with the two who have supported him and showed him such love and kindness right when he needed it the most. His teacher acknowledges that his feelings are pure and that he deserves such a life, but advises him on how, even without the influence of the same dark forces the antagonist controls, that peoples’ hearts are fickle and easily led astray by misconceptions and tells him not to be too public with his affections, for both his own and Dray’s safety. I even wrote a scene towards the end where, after Samuel’s wedding to Bella, when they step into their horse-drawn carriage to be carted off for their honeymoon, Dray was the one waiting to open the door for them instead of a random servant. Dray and Samuel would have shared a loving smile at one another before Dray and Bella winked at each other knowingly and each kissed one of Samuel’s cheeks before all three went off into the carriage together to start their new life.”

Speedwagon listened to his words intently, looking positively riveted by the story. “That sounds beautiful, Jojo! Do y’ still ‘ave a copy with those scenes? I’d love t’ read ‘em some time.”

“Certainly.” He replied with a grin. “Would you like me to bring them to the set during the first rehearsal?”

“Hm..I’d rather not wait that long..” Speedwagon reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. He then proceeded to write something on his coffee cup as he talked. “Tell y’ what, seein’ as we live so close t’ each other, ‘ow ‘bout we just meet up ‘ere again sometime?” He brought the cup to his lips and chugged the last of his drink before setting the cup down near Jonathan’s hand. “I gotta get goin’, else I’ll miss work, but I usually keep me phone on me.” He gave Jonathan a wink as he stood up and grabbed the rest of his trash before walking away. “Be seein’ y’, Jojo.”

Jonathan’s face heated up again from the wink. “F-Farewell for now, Speedwagon.” He managed a wave and a smile, feeling really shy and screaming at himself internally because DID HE REALLY JUST STUTTER LIKE THAT?!!

Once Speedwagon was out of sight, Jonathan looked back down at the coffee cup and grabbed it. He turned it around until he saw that Speedwagon had written his phone number along the side of it along with a message:

“You’re really cute and I like listening to you talk. Looking forward to doing it again sometime- maybe here, or maybe somewhere else? ;) <3 –Speedwagon”

The heat that had previously been burning at his cheeks blossomed into a full-fledged blush that encompassed both of his cheeks and his ears, leaving his face very red.

So, he wasn’t the only one feeling something? That was good to know…

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: That's all I have for now, but will post more when I eventually get the chance x3

Also, for anyone curious about the names of the characters from the play, they're all synonyms or close-enough names to the characters from the regular universe because I am half-lazy and half-bad taste in humor x3

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #jonathan joestar #robert edward o speedwagon #jonawagon #Modern!AU #stars of the stage

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citialiin · 5 years ago

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm. tagged by: @forseenclade thank you ! man i am so bad at doing memes. tagging: @blossomingbeelzebug @zhrets @lupichorous @dansiere yayayayayayayaya

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated [ z/iggy stardust is DEFINITELY not my original character, but 683 is, and every single part of how i rp ziggy from his backstory to his personality was made up by me. that being said, ziggy is still a character that exists in media. ]

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. [ im pretty sure ziggy is tied with the thin white duke as one of b*wie’s most famous fictional personas? ]

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES ? / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.

Are they underrated? YES / NO / IDK. [ maybe a little overrated ]

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO.

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. [ celebrity rock god of limitless talent vs inevitable overrated washup. most celebrities are polarizing anyways ]

How strictly do you follow canon? — there isnt much canon to go off of i think? the album barely even states if ziggy is an alien and b*wie himself got really wishy washy about it (sometimes saying z is a human who was contacted by aliens, he was an alien himself, etc). i dont think we know anything about him besides what he looks like (red hair / weird eyes / pale / “well hung” lmao) and he has a band called the spiders from mars, he plays the guitar left handed, he’s bisexual + androgynous, and he’s charming and popular with the teens but inevitably is a victim of his own ego. and he dies. that too. but that’s literally it! we know Nothing else about him. so i filled in all the gaps because my brain has worms. theres a little bit of the story that verges on fantasy (that he’s some sort of messiah messenger for “the infinites,” whatever the fuck THAT means, david) so i nix that because i prefer hard scifi. and theres one BIG part that i just ... deleted out of his canon, in that the world is ending in 5 years in his timeline, and he’s like ... aware of this ? but that’s dumb and confusing. i legit dont care anymore. my OC now.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — im so embarrassed i know i could be genuine and actually try but i have brain blockajjolajlakala33lak33klak333ak3jka3akjj323j3 i guess it’s like ... ziggy is truly the ultimate expression OF humanity because he reveals everything both wrong and right about the human condition, he literally embodies the best of humanity and the worst at the same time, he’s a really interesting critique on the idea of genuineness/earnestness vs commercalism in art, the perils of fame, and also how humans are so inherently corrupting? a lot of thematic stuff i like exploring is like what is innate to humans vs what is learned behavior, what are things that humans do naturally that ziggy mimics out of his desire to be like us? i think he has a really good story arc -- he went from being a literal nameless CLONE in a society full of pragmatic forward thinking science-oriented people to a sell out rockstar celebrity in a society of people that value individualism and self expression and art, but in the process completely lost his mind and himself and gave into the worst that humanity has to offer like rampant selfishness, drug abuse, self destructive tendencies, etc. characters changing is always interesting and ziggy truly changes for the worse -- but he is never just black and white, he was never good and then suddenly evil, he just was always the same person putting on different facades and trying to be himself by constructing an identity that maybe was who he wanted to be versus who he actually is. i dont know what im talking about. hes just an alien trying to be too hard to be human in all the wrong ways. i just like how “gray” ziggy is. he isnt good or bad, he can be very nice and he can be very mean, he’s overtly showboating confident but at the same time deeply afflicted with self-consciousness (why tf else would anyone be So obsessed with how they present themselves?). hes an icon of individualism but also commercialism. he’s freakishly alien but is almost more human than humans themselves. he struggles as lot in his head -- which makes for interesting writing, i guess !! Im so emabrrased im not going to go back and read what i wrote so if i typoed dont look at me

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — i think ziggy comes across as really mean and nothing else. his horrible bitchy rudeness comes across as hee hee hoo hoo sassy isnt he a rascal when it’s supposed to be more like ... he’s so far gone into the celebrity delusion he’s conflated aggressive rudeness with charmingness because no one told him otherwise and everyone worships him to the point where he’s just given into the delusion that he can do no wrong. i think theres the general simplification problem that happens with a lot of fictional characters, it’s easy to see him as just a whacky sassy glittery quirky rockstar when i guess it avoids the inherent tragedy of like ... everything else about him. his totally fake and false sense of identity built up from superficial things like fame and labels and stardom. maybe my version of ziggy is just too weirdly depressing and sad when i know his original iteration wasn’t quite so ... grim. im not very sure tbh.

What inspired you to rp your muse? — hmmm ... a lot of things! i just really got into b*wie stuff in early 2019, i’ve ALWAYS loved aliens and sci-fi, and i was really shocked that db sets up such great visual storytelling potential but does it through music. i just really liked ziggys “story” and i like any chance to think about aliens so i just got invested into piecing together a little backstory for him using, like, the cumulative knowledge of literally every other piece of science fiction ive ever consumed in my life. this was summer 2019 when i was making initial pitches for my thesis film, and so i just randomly decided to pitch “animated version of ziggy stardust” as one of the potential ideas. shockingly everyone liked it a lot and so did my professor who thought it was really cool, and then i just ended up sticking with the character and working on him for an entire year. ziggy became my hobby but also my homework. he was such a fun character because everything about him was interesting to me and i had just enough source material to have a starting point but so much room to take him in any direction i wanted to.

What keeps your inspiration going? — honestly, yooooou guyssssss. i have some really amazing fwends that ive met thru here .... and some of our dumb stupid stories have literally become NOVEL length. it just self generates inspiration because you realize the limitless amount of stories you could tell with this one single character when your character enters his story or he enters their story and etc. etc. ive drawn endless amounts of comics and stuff for him ... ziggy is just so endlessly interesting ... cringe be cringed bro but recently (i know this sounds dumb bear with me or die.) ive kind of realized a lot of how i rp z comes as some metaphor for the experience of being an asian immigrant/being asian in the US -- his home “culture” is a lot stricter than the rampant selfish individualism of the usa (he only lives in the uk and usa, so he thinks the whole planet is like this), he’s dissuaded from standing out from his community and his selfishness becomes a community burden rather than a personal flaw, and when he does come to earth, he goes through such awful culture shock, literally nothing makes sense to him and everything is Different. and while some things are different in a Nice way, something things are different in an Awful way, and he’s given the option between losing his true personal identity as an atominan and giving it up to be a human. the allure of being a human is a little too much but losing yourself like this is traumatic, in a way. obvs like ... a little silly and definitely not something that i actively intended to put into his story arc, its just something that fell into place cuz i guess i worked so closely with my own personal experiences and feelings of “alienation” (pun intended) to try to understand how he would feel being a literal alien an shid. its cathartic to write about him. but he also has a lot of my own personal interests just thrown in -- 70s fashion, scifi, science, tryhard implications about human nature, art history, whatever dumb nonsense i get into

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO / SOMETIMES?

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO [ i would prefer information to spring up organically in the story but cuz threads always get dropped i end up just telling people outright. i didnt want anyone to know his home planet/his old name but barely anyone writes enough with ziggy to get to that point to reveal it (i legit managed to do it organically Once) so i just had to write it in a post lmao orz ]

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO [ wrote a ton of drabbles ! drew a ton of comics! ]

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / I DUNNO?

Are you confident in your writing? YES / HAHA NO.

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO. / IDK ?

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? — definitely! like i said ... my version of ziggy ended up being the protag of my thesis film and for 1 yr straight his characterization, backstory, design, and even how i wanted to animate his fucking movements (ziggy stardust timing charts.) were beaten to death in a classroom environment, torn apart and rebuilt into something better. had i stayed with what i originally wanted to go with, ziggy would be so different than how i write him 2day. amazingly my pre production professor is a literal two time emmy award winning storyboard artist and animator so he definitely helped me design him (my version of ziggy is meant for ... a cartoon, obviously, not real life) and give him a better backstory? and my post production professor is a retired disney animator who worked on hercules and a bunch of old disney channel shows? had i gone wah wah wah i dont want to hear ur critiques i wouldnt have made him better. if you ever think ziggy seems inconsistent or poorly written ... tell me !! i literally major in ... animation. cartoons. entertainment. my job is to entertain you. if you are not entertained, there is a problem. ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED ????

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? — I LOVE QUESTIONS? i love ... answering questions ... if you ask me something ill come kiss you.

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? — sure! i dont know why that would happen, though, because i mean ... he’s an OC. but i gues someone could be like “i feel like this is incongruous to things you’ve previously established in his character” or somethin

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? — i feel like a lot of b*wie stans would find my version of ziggy weird but i mean thats fine! i guess my goal is to have a well written character, not necessarily an accurate version of ziggy

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? — if you hate MY version of ziggy thats fine but if u hate ziggy stardust in general (like the bowie concept) then u need some taste what the fuck is cooler than a egomaniac genderless bisexual rockstar alien with red hair? nothing. go back to watching your CW shows you dirty filthy normie

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? — yes! dm me though. dont clown me on the dash like that. i usually write your replies 12 AM - 4 AM so it’s expected.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun? — hmmm ... maybe! i do like to talk to people and i am VERY nice, trust me, if youre ever sad ill do everything i can to make you feel better. but im quiet! i dont really reach out to people and i tend to just keep to myself. im not very social or extroverted at all haha i barely can make ooc posts without feeling like god’s coming to beat my head in with a brick. im sitting here at 5:30 AM with this meme feeling like if i post it i will die (BUT I MUST)

#a lot of it is under the readmore because these always get so long and mine is long long long long long long long long long long long #ooc #KEEP YOUR 'LECTRIC EYE ON ME ; queue #and thakn you for tagging me ! i like to mkae Words

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strawbwrry · 5 years ago

Text

know it all ❥ h.ys

word count：4.k

warnings：slight swearing, time traveling, soulmates, and a few tears

↳ happy yunseong day!

now this is in no way a secret to anyone, but i do adore yunseong, and i wanted to do something special for 100 followers (currently 132, love you guys :D) and something special for yunseongs birthday, so this is where it went! now before anything i’d really like to say i truly do hope for the best for him, his future looks bright and i am eagerly awaiting for whatever happens in his career and his life, and will 100000% support him in all his endeavors. i hope he is having a good birthday, and just would like so say i really appreciate him. also hey woolim let us see him and the rest of the boys we miss them!!! to end my small rant (cause trust me i could go on for ages, and as the great @choi-yeonjunz said to me the first day we talked “im head over heels for yunseong) all i have to say is, happy birthday yunseong ♡

song rec：dayfly ❥ dean

❥❥❥❥

know it all

hwang yunseong

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I had seen him before, but he was new here. No matter how many times I tried to convince myself of that, I knew very well I had seen him before. Something about him didn’t feel normal.

How did I know him? I wasn’t so sure.

❥❥❥❥

Yunseong was attractive, seemed nice, and was on the quiet side. You’d always find him near his friends. But something was, off. I’d talked to him just once, and it was an apology after running into him and spilling some of my water on his shirt. In total honesty, before I had realized I had spoken to him, our conversation had ended.

Now usually I would’ve brushed off this unsettling feeling and continued on with my life. No matter how hard I tried to move past it, desperately tried to ignore it, I was drawn to him. When I’d see him enter the coffee shop I couldn’t help but stare. I’m sure he’d caught me more than a few times, but I couldn’t care less.

I couldn’t help it.

The day everything would change was, to be excruciatingly honest, the most mundane of them all. I got dressed, finished my classes for the day, and headed off to work. I checked in, and began on my daily tasks. As I began to clean the tables right before we closed up, I realized one thing : Yunseong hadn’t come in today. For the past few months every single day, and at the exact same time, down to the second, Yunseong walked in and ordered a drink.

He never missed a day.

My co-worker walked up to me and handed me a cookie and pointed at the table and we sat. Serim took a bite from her cookie before giving me a wide grin. “Did the boy you like not come in today?” I rolled my eyes and groaned as I opened up the packaging, “Oh shut up! I do not like him Serim.” She laughed and patted my arm, “Whatever you say Y/N.” A chill ran up my spine as a loud screech was heard outside. My eyes bolted to Serim before I tried to look out of the large window.

“Y/N, what was that?” I peered through the window all I saw was darkness. I vaguely saw dark figures, one moved continuously till I felt it look in my direction. I couldn’t see was looked back at me, but it’s eyes stung into my chest. Everything about its gaze hurt. Whatever was staring at me wasn’t human, or in the very least, wasn’t fully human. All of a sudden there was a knock on the door, when I turned to look at the person there, it was Yunseong.

His face remained stoic and calm as always, his hair tousled, but nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t till I noticed a figure behind him, that I felt my eyes widen, it was a tall man with seemingly no distinct features what so ever, his large hand landed onto Yunseong’s right shoulder. His lips quirked up into a lopsided grin, his eyes looked straight into mine, as he turned around in an instant, I had fallen to the floor. My vision went black for just a second, my breathing became erratic, and when I looked back there stood Yunseong alone. I turned around trying to find Serim to no avail. “Serim!” My shaky voice yelled out, as my arms pulled my body away from the door slowly. My video on blurred, and I felt a throat getting tighter and tighter by the second.

“Serim?” I felt my eyes began to sting. I pulled myself up and felt a sudden pain in my side, which dropped me right back to the floor.

I heard knocks once again coming from the door, my head instantly looked up to find Yunseong there, but his demeanor had drastically shifted. His once stoic face had turned into one of anxiousness and his hand pounded against the door violently, he looked terrified. He point behind me and as I turned around I came face to face, with who I could only describe as the tallest person to ever exist. I quickly scrambled up and ran to the door, my hands fumbled clumsily until it was open, I quickly shut the door behind me and watched as the man disappeared once again. I looked into Yunseong’s eyes to find a certain sense of relief, but deep behind that was something else. A secret, a fear, that I knew was there.

“It didn’t happen.” My face clearly contorted in confusion. What did he mean it didn’t happen? I struggled to regain my breath and vision as I stood across from him. My chest heaved tiredly.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

As my breath began to settle I looked up at him, “What do you mean ‘it’ didn’t happen?”

He let out a deep sigh, then proceeded to look around him. He anxiously rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand before turning back to make eye contact with me. His eyes boring into mine which only made me more nervous.

“I’m not sure how to tell you this, but you were supposed to be dead 5 minutes ago.”

❥❥❥❥

That was a rough night. Yunseong and I had agreed to meet at the park the next day to talk, I really wasn’t ready for what I was about to learn, what I was about to see, or what I was about to feel.

❥❥❥❥

We sat besides each other awkwardly. To anyone else it would’ve looked like the most awkward first date to ever have taken place. What was really happening though, was something no one would really understand. Hell if I understood what was going on.

My eyes wandered to him before I nervously breathed in and sighed. “What did you mean when you said I was going to die last night, and who were those people with you?”

He seemed taken aback at the mention of people. “You could see them?”

“Was I not supposed to be able to see them?” He smiled timidly before straightening his face out and looking back at me. “Y/N you’re something special.”

I stayed silent. How should I respond to that? Should ask why? I wasn’t sure.

I stayed sat beside him quietly, my hands feeling as if they were going to sweat, but to be frank I wasn’t sure if they would. He sighed heavily, wiping his hands over his knees and laughing quietly. I turned to face him, quite honestly startled by his sudden laugh. It was cute, but I was confused. I laughed softly too, I had just realized I had flinched at the sound of his sudden laugh. An array of giggles escaped us before we began to quiet down.

“I’m not sure where to start, is there anything you want to know?” I sucked in a breath of air and lightly played around with my fingers wondering where to start as well. “Is there anything significant you think I should know?”

He purses his lips tightly, racking his head for a little bit. “Lee Sujin, your grandma.”

“What about my grandma?” My jaw clenched tightly, I’m wasn’t so sure if I wanted to know this. “Your grandma had a younger brother right?” I nodded quietly, my head turning to his direction as I did so. “Was his name Lee Eunsang?”

I swallowed dryly, and nodded my head nervously, “That was his name. My grandma used to talk about him all the time. But he died in 1969.” He nodded, “He wasn’t supposed to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everybody has a certain time at which they’re supposed to die. The vast majority of people die the date and time they’re supposed to, but others die too soon, or too completely miss their time and seemingly live forever.” I squinted my eyes trying to process the information. I bit my lips back lightly, nodded very gently at his words, trying my hardest to understand them,

“So he died too early?”

He nodded, “My job is to correct each early or missed death in multiple universes, your great uncle just happens to be next on my list.”

“Can I go with you?” I pursed my lips, anxiously waiting for a response.

“Why do you want to go Y/N?” His head cocked to the side curiously, a little bit of a smile popping onto his face.

“I’d love to meet him, plus I’d love to see if you’re lying or not.” A small grin fully etched itself onto his face at my words, his hand outstretching itself till it was right by mine. He looked forward, his eyes closing for a few seconds, before he opened them again. They looked different now. A certain new quality had appeared within them. It felt comforting, almost even familiar in an odd sense.

“Y/N, take my hand and close your eyes. No matter what keep them closed, until I tell you to open them.“

My heart began to thump erratically, I felt a certain sense of nervousness overcome me in totality. I swallowed nervously but asked one final question, “What happens if I open my eyes?”

He pursed his lips for just a second, and then let out a shaky breath, “Something bad would happen. Something very bad.”

His hand began shaking slightly, his fingers gently curling inwards, “Do you still want to go?”

I nodded softly, then lifted my hand to place it in his. His grip on my hand tightened just a bit before loosening once again, “Close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes, the bright sun, green trees, blue sky, and the fountain that formerly resided in my field of vision now gone. His once regular quiet breathing became heavier, and sounded more labored. The grip of his hand adjusted, gently locking his fingers with mine, as his grip tightened, in an instant I could no longer saw any hint of light.

Darkness, a totally unexplainable lack of light, it was odd in every way possible. Yet it was familiar, I’d felt this before, I was sure of it in every way possible. A sudden image flashed before me, it was a picture of me with someone, someone who couldn’t be seen, was blurred out, seemingly wasn’t supposed to be there in that picture with me.

It stayed there motionless, until it began moving. The person next to me began to poke my cheek, even pinching it later on. As the video began fading from my sight I saw lips land onto my forehead.

I felt my heart flutter as I watched intently. I could feel the kiss being gently pressed to my forehead, and where my cheek had been gently poked and pinched. It was gentle and soft, but still prompted a shy smile on my face. I didn’t know who the person was, but deep down I could feel an unknown fondness for them, I couldn’t help it. As the video faded from my view I belt my heart ache at the sudden disappearance of the person in the video.

My chest tightened as I felt Yunseong squeeze my hand, his small pinky began adjusting slightly. “Almost.” I felt a sudden wave of reassurance wash over me at his voice, I’d never felt this way. I’d never felt so utterly comfortable with someone.

But I didn’t know him.

I had known about his existence for just a few months, talked to him for much less than two hours, but felt the strongest sense of infatuation with him. The strongest feeling of attachment. The darkness began to fade, and a sudden light appeared, “Y/N you can open your eyes now.”

When my eyelids parted, instantly I knew, we weren’t in 2019 anymore.

It was the summer of 1969.

❥❥❥❥

Everything was so different. The cars. The people. The clothing.

“Yunseong, holy crap is that my grandma?” My eyes widened at the sight of a certain teenager, my age, walking hand in hand with a male. “Wait no way, that’s my grandpa!” I quickly turned around, crouching down, and raising up to my hands to my eye sockets covering my eyes.

He chuckled, his hand reaching out to help me stand up again, “Bingo.” I placed my hand onto his and let him pull me up. His head turned away, as my eyes were drawn to his side profile, I unknowingly smiled, my heart felt content, here holding his hand.

For once everything felt right.

❥❥❥❥

Everything changes with perspective

What’s going on in Yunseong’s mind?

❥❥❥❥

Her eyes widened significantly and she turned to me for just a second, “Yunseong, holy crap is that my grandma?” Her hand landed over her mouth in shock and her eyes scanned over the teenager stood not far from us.

“Wait no way, that’s my grandpa!” I chuckled softly, she crouched to the floor and covered her eyes with her hands trying to process the sight just a few feet away. When she turned to look back at me my hand instinctively shot out to help her up, “Bingo.”

He hand landed onto mine and for the few second it was there I felt complete.

She’d never be mine, but that wouldn’t stop me from coming back to her.

I turned away, my heart heavy, but feeling content. “Y/N, your great uncle should be in the park over there. Come on, let’s go.”

The walk was quiet, not a single word uttered between the both of us. The day was nice, the sky clear and blue, a gentle wind blowing past us, the sun beaming warming our skin. Her hand grabbed my wrist stopping us both. Her head quickly turned to look back at me, “Yunseong, is that him?” I smiled softly at her excitement and nodded softly, “Hey Eunsang! Is that the girlfriend you’ve been telling me about?”

He blushed and rolled his eyes, “Hyung! You’re embarrassing me!” I laughed before turning to look down at Y/N, her eyes wide and face reading shock. My hand intertwined with hers, before I looked back up, “Yunseong hyung, who is she? Is that your girlfriend?” Y/N’s face went red, her hand tightened around mine, but before I said anything,

“My name is Y/N, and yes.”

My face heated up slightly, as I felt her hand tighten around mine. Eunsang’s girlfriend smiled widely, “Care to join us for a bit?”

I turned to look at her and she smiled softly, her eyes wandering into mine, boring holes into my soul as she hopefully stared at me. “We’d love too!”

❥❥❥❥

"How did you like being with them?” Her smile was wide, and hands remained warm, she looked so happy. So genuinely excited, I couldn’t help to smile back at her. “I understand what my grandma meant when she talked about him.”

“What did she say about him?” We stopped in front of a gorgeous rose bush. She let go of my hand, and faced me in front of the rose bush, her eyelashes fluttered prettily, her eyes reading me in a way I couldn’t pinpoint. “Mischievous personified. She told how much he enjoyed seeing others happy. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a better descriptive of someone.” Her head dropped down, a fond smile growing onto her face, “She would’ve loved to see him one last time before she passed.”

Without a thought my hand lifted to brush her hair away from her face, my eyes drawn naturally to hers. It felt so natural. Her eyes softened slightly before she turned to admire the roses, “Tell me Yunseong, what other things exist that we don’t know about.” I smiled sadly at her, I was so helplessly entranced by her in every way, it was so obvious.

“Which ones do you want to know?”

“Well I know about time traveling, since we just did it, and the fact that multiple universes exist, so just anything that’d be a shock to most people.”

“I know in your universe it’s a big debate on if soulmates exist, but they do exist. Other is probably, people you see, aren’t always people, they can be some misshapen monster put into the wrong universe.”

Her eyes shot back to mine, “Like the people next to you from last night?” I nodded, “I was shocked when you could see them because you’re not supposed to be able to see them. No normal person should be able to see them. I’m positive you saw some kind of video or picture when we were coming over here.”

“I did.” My hunch was right. Nobody is every that quiet, there’s always some sort of panicking or nervous whispering. She was silent. She wasn’t normal and I’m sure of it, I’m just not sure in what way she’s different. “What was it of?”

A shy smile painted itself over her face and her eyes filled with a certain sense of happiness I’d never be able to understand. “It was incredibly mundane and unimportant, but it seemed so life changing and real to me. The main thing was, I guess when a person kissed my forehead.”

“Who was this somebody?” Her face contorted slightly in confusion, “I’m not really sure, I couldn’t see their face.”

“If you’re okay with answering, what about it seemed so important to you?” Her bashful smile returned, her eyes turning to mine for a bit before turning away once again, “I don’t know who the person was, but at that moment I felt like I needed them. Like I wasn’t complete with out them. I could feel the kiss, but I couldn’t pinpoint what about felt so special and important to me. It just was.”

I smiled sadly, “It must’ve been a vision of your soulmate.” My hand reaches out and gently poked her cheek, I smiled fondly at the girl who stood in front of me, each time she died I always came back, even if I knew I shouldn’t. My heart broke each time but I couldn’t help it. I loved her.

“Yunseong do you have a soulmate?”

I smiled,“I do, but because I technically don’t exist, my soulmate has another soulmate.” I looked down at the roses and smiled, their vibrant reds truly shining as the setting sun covered them in a golden light. It was a scene that could really only be described as unreal, “What do you mean you don’t exist?”

“I was born in between universes, so while I am here and real, I’ll never really exist anywhere. I’ll spend all of my seemingly endless life fixing the universe’s anomalies, until the day my body gives out. But then I’ll be reborn like this once again.” I paused, my throat tightening slightly, “The majority of us don’t have soulmates. I’m one of the few who does. I’ll never be able to be with them though, so what does it matter at this point.”

“Do you know them?” I turned to look at Y/N, her eyes glazed with a childlike sense of curiosity, I smiled wholeheartedly before turning away to watch the sun set, my smile instantly falling, “I’ve seen her die, and be reborn multiple times. Each and every time it happens I can’t help but hope she’ll be one of us. It’s selfish I know, but it’s been centuries in your years, over again watching them fall in love with another man. It’s futile. But I’ll always adore her no matter who she’s been reborn as.”

Her hand landed gently on my arm, lightly grabbing in the long sleeve shirt that hung loosely on my arm, tears brimming at her eyes. A wave of emotions washed over me in which I could only name a few, my hands lifted up to her face and I gently swiped her tears with my thumbs, watching as she sniffled. My hand gently pinched at the soft skin of her cheeks, smiling as a timid smile painted her face. She gently took my hand in both of hers and held it tightly. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“I can’t do anything about it. All I can do is watch and hope she’s happy with who ever she lands as a soulmate. It hurts so damn much. She’ll never know how much I truly love her, but it’s alright. I’ll die one day, maybe I’ll be among the majority of us who are lucky enough to not have soulmates.” Her lips pursed as her eyes locked on mine. Once again, her eyes stared into mine trying to find something, something I’d never know of. Her hands still firmly held onto mine. “Would you ever tell your soulmate that?”

Words were caught at my throat, I had so much to say, yet no way to say it. Should I tell her? I sighed heavily and and gently leaned in to place a loving kiss to her forehead, using my free hand to gently cup her face, my thumb stroking her cheekbone,

“I just did.”

❥❥❥❥

We had just arrived once again in 2019, I was hesitant to leave. Y/N stayed silent, and while she hadn’t said anything to me following my three-worded confession, she refused to let go of my hand. The sky was dark, the only illumination present in anyway being the uninviting street lights that were scattered across the sidewalks.

I walked Y/N to her doorstep and watched her head up to the door. Each step she took to her door felt agonizingly long, I’d never see her again after this, and she knew it. Her hands reached the doorknob and I watched as she unlocked her door. My eyes watched intently as she began to walk inside her house. In an instant she dropped her keys and turned back to me, she walked quickly and rested her head against my shoulder, her hands wrapped around my waist. To say I was shocked was an understatement, I felt my body relax against hers as my arm pulled her closer. My head rested against hers and we stood there quietly,

“Yunseong don’t leave. Please don’t leave.” My heart broke at the shakiness of her words, her warm forehead pressed against the side of my neck sending goosebumps up my spine. “You know I can’t stay.” Her arms tightened around my body as I began to pull away. “Why can’t you stay?”

“I don’t belong here.” She shook her head gently, before pulling her upper body away from mine and looking me in the eyes, “Whenever I look into your eyes I see something different, I can see your fears, I can see your thoughts, and I can see your memories. You’re real in every way. When I look at you I see Hwang Yunseong. Whether you exist or not, I love you. Whether you knew it or not I always have.”

“And whether you accept it or not I’m not letting go.”

A smile grew on my face as I bashfully looked away from her trying to hide a smile. A sudden stinging in my eyes startled me, I chuckled softly at myself, soon joined by Y/N. Just like the first time we had truly talked, for a moment it was just a fit of giggles. Her gleaming smile so gorgeous, I couldn’t help but stare. When the laughs ceased I felt a tear roll down my cheek, something that hadn’t happened in quite a long time. “Why are you crying Yunseong?”

“I never thought I’d be able to have a moment like this with you. I just love you. Much more than you’d ever know.”

“I love you too Yunseong.”

❥❥❥❥

This was the moment that’d change our lives. This was the moment I felt complete, after what felt like an eternity of endless searching, endless watching happy couples together, I finally felt like I was complete.

She’d never understand how much I love her. She never will. Your not just fond of someone for hundreds of years. Sure I’m a know it all, but I really didn’t know how she felt.

And I’m glad I didn’t.

❥❥❥❥

#hwang yunseong #yunseong scenarios #yunseong angst #yunseong fluff #yunseong imagines #produce x 101 #produce x 101 imagine #produce x 101 fluff #produce x scenarios #produce x imagines #pdx 101 #produce x 101 angst #produce x 101 scenarios #woolim #yunseong #happy birthday bby!!#happy yunseong day!!!!#mOM I LOVE HIM #so much

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therealcalicali · 6 years ago

Text

SOLD! (TO IVAR)

IMAGINE BEING SOLD TO IVAR BY YOUR DESPERATE MOTHER.

Warnings: Angst and Fluff.

______________

"Come on, Y/N! Surely you can move faster than that." The raven-haired Viking shouted. "I will be forced to begin a countdown if you do not make progress soon."

"Apologies, Master. I am trying my best to locate it."

"Why can I not find this blasted thing?" You thought to yourself

As you ducked behind a large oak tree, you spotted a nosey little rabbit that seemed intent on watching you search for the arrow before finally hopping off. It scurried into a large bush leaving you alone. But then��…...that’s when you saw it! The arrow! It was camouflaged within the bushes the rabbit had just disappeared into.

"Thank you, Father God." You said – grateful for the divine help.

Honestly, you feared the Heathen and didn't know what he would have done had you not produced it. You immediately pulled the arrow from the ground and rushed back to where he awaited you. As you walked, as quickly as you could in the tall grass, the Viking spotted you. Standing in his chariot, he appeared even more imposing than he was already.

"Look! I found it." You said - lifting the arrow high over your head in triumph.

Then, something odd occurred. The Viking raised his bow and strung an arrow through it.

"What is happening?" You thought to yourself.

The dark-haired stranger then pointed the weapon directly at you! Your feet faltered as you hesitated to continue going towards him. When your eyes met, you gave him an innocent smile, hoping it would cause him to put the weapon down. But, he did not. As if time itself slowed, you watched helplessly as the Viking released the arrow in your direction. You let out a terrified scream and shut your eyes tightly. Your heart raced as you anticipated the pain or possibly, instant darkness. You stood still for a good long while before you eventually realized that you were unhurt. As you slowly opened your eyes, you heard laughter. Indeed, there was a great deal of laughter coming from the Viking.

"Master, please do not kill me." You begged. "I am sorry that I took so long but the grass is so high."

"I did not aim to kill you Y/N. If I had, you would be dead already." He said with a chuckle.

As you stood beside the chariot, still shaken from the incident, the dark-haired stranger looked at you and smiled.

"Come on!" He said, pointing beside him.

"Master?"

"Get on. I want to show you something and you will not be able to see it from where you are."

You helped yourself onto his chariot, causing the horse to neigh at the shifting of weight. As you stood beside him, the Viking motioned for you to come closer, which you did at once.

"Do you see it, Y/N?" He asked as he pointed to where you had been standing.

You shielded your eyes from the blazing afternoon sun as you searched the distance. To your utter shock, you spotted a dead wolf where he had directed you to look.

"My God! Do you mean that thing was behind me the entire time?"

"Stalking you like his next meal." The Viking said with a smile. "Now, do you still think I was trying to kill you?"

Though you felt bad for assuming the worst, what did he expect? His people had savaged your settlements for almost three weeks so it was normal that you were afraid. However, you had to admit that he was unlike most of his kinfolk. Since he had been in your family home, the Viking had shown restraint and had not caused harm to any of you.

"Please accept my apologies, Master." You shyly said with your head down. "I was mistaken."

He gave you an amused look before he nodded.

"I accept your apology. Now, let us head home. I am quite famished."

You went to dismount from the chariot, since you always walked to the side of him as he rode. However, you suddenly felt his calloused, partially gloved hand upon your shoulder.

"There may be more around than just that one." He said as he placed his helmet on. "Come stand in front of me."

With reluctance, you went and stood in front him and waited for the Viking to take the reins. However, he did not. For what seemed like an eternity, he did nothing but stand behind you, saying and doing nothing. As the wind picked up, you brushed some of your stray locks out of your face. Though your hair was tied in a bun, the activity of retrieving his arrows all afternoon had caused it to loosen slightly.

"Master, is something wrong?"

"No."

His one word response made the awkwardness of the moment even worse. Suddenly, you felt his arms move around your waist, with his hands finally gripping your hips. You promptly looked over your shoulder and gave him a confused expression.

"What------"

"I find your shape very captivating. It is unlike the women in my kingdom." He said with a serious expression.

His blue eyes peered into yours seductively, making your ears and neck burn like fire. You quickly looked straight ahead and tried to move his hands.

"Please, it is improper for you to touch me in such a way." You stammered. "If anyone sees us, they will brand me a loose woman. Irrespective of me not having the ability to refuse you……I will be shunned once you and your people depart."

"All that for simply having a man caress your hips?" The Viking asked with a chuckle. "You Christians truly take the fun out of life. So tell me Y/N, is this also inappropriate?"

He embraced you tightly. With his pelvis snug against your backside, he gave you an open-mouthed kiss upon your neck. Though you tried to protest, the words caught in your throat. His lips upon your flesh was a sensation you found yourself liking a great deal. Truth be told, you had shared innocent kisses with a local boy behind the church before. However, he had never given you erotic pecks upon your neckline as the Viking was doing.

"Please!" You finally managed to say. "I beg that you to refrain from doing any more."

"Y/N, you are quite entertaining." He said. "I have always wondered how a Christian girl would react to being touched. And it is just as I thought. You resist too much for no good reason. As you can see, no lightening has struck you from the sky."

You kept silent as he finally took hold of the reins and clicked his tongue - signaling the horse to move. At first, your mind was only on what the Viking had done, but the thrill of the ride soon made you forget everything. Never had you felt as free as you did upon the horse-drawn chariot. The speed in which he drove his steed, thrilled you. It was like flying while still being on the ground.

_________________

A few minutes into the ride, the two of you finally came upon the entrance to your town.

The smile promptly left your face as you were spotted by your fellow Christians. The adults and children going about their day stared at you and the Viking with thinly veiled hatred. As the horse trolled slowly through the township, the stares became worse.

"It appears your people do not like the fact that you are with me." The Viking whispered in your ear. "Should we give them a show?"

Catching you off-guard, he suggestively slid his warm tongue from the crook of your neck to your earlobe. His scandalous display made a group of women at a well, frown. Some shaking their heads in disgust or clutching their crosses.

"Stop it." You hissed.

"Y/N, why are you so against having pleasure?"

"I am not. I just cannot have the type of "pleasure" you are obviously into."

As the chariot passed the town square, the menfolk and merchants looked at you with pity in their eyes. Most likely assuming the Viking had violated you no doubt. Suddenly, you caught a glimpse of a girl that looked familiar. She was standing beside a tall flaxen-haired Viking looking quite terrified.

"Sophia Brighton?" You said to yourself. "Yes, that is definitely her."

The two of you were hardly chums - more acquaintances than anything else. She had always been impolite towards you and teased you often with her circle of friends. As the chariot pulled alongside her and the Viking, you noticed tears in her eyes as she stood beside him.

"Brother, where have you been all day?" Your Viking Master asked.

"Ivar, please do not behave as if you are my mother." The other Viking replied. "I planned on joining you but Ubbe asked me to mediate a dispute."

"Well, thank you for revealing my name."

You looked over your shoulder briefly, pleased to finally know the stranger's name. Your entire family had been curious as to what is was since his arrival, but he had refused to divulge it.

"Who is she? Your bed-warmer for the night?" His brother asked.

"Y/N?" Ivar said. "No. I prefer to make her do chores for me. You should come and eat at her home, Hvitserk. She and her mother are wonderful cooks."

"Really? I shall take you up on that offer. Expect us within the hour."

When you and Sophia finally locked eyes, you gave her a comforting smile. At that moment, it was all you could do.

"I must help her." You thought to yourself. "Irrespective of her past behavior, she is kinfolk."

Ivar gave instruction on how to get to your homestead and bid farewell to his brother. As the two of you continued your journey, you tried to think of the best way to ask for his help.

____________

After having his evening bath, Ivar sat at a table drinking and playing chess with your grandfather. For some reason, he had developed a liking of the old man and spoke with him often about numerous topics. As you passed by with some of the kitchen servants, he glanced at you.

"What smells so good?"

"It is Girdle bread, Master." You said as you put the tray of freshly bake bread on the table.

"I have never heard of that before. Is it good?"

"It is better than good. I know you are sure to like it." You said confidently.

"Is that so?" Ivar asked – eyeing you keenly before sipping his mead. "Alright. We shall see if you are right. If I do not like it however, I will punish you."

"What?" You asked, turning to face him.

"You heard me. If you assert something, it best be true. At least that is how it works in my world."

"But I-------."

"No more argument, Y/N. Get the rest of the food before it gets cold."

With that, Ivar turned his attention back to the game of chess. In the kitchen you cursed yourself for saying anything to him about the food

________________

At the dining table, you were all sat down eating when there was a knock at the door.

"Get it!" Ivar said, not looking up from his plate.

Your mother commanded one of the servants who rushed to the door and opened it cautiously.

"Hope I am not late." Hvisterk said as he entered with your friend Sophia right behind him.

"Sophia!" Your grandfather said. "My dear, is your family alight?"

The words had barely left his lips before she burst into tears. Your grandfather went and took her by the hand before glancing at you. Knowing what the look meant, you stood and went to her side.

"Calm yourself, Sophia." You said. "You are safe here."

"My family is dead! All of them! My Mother! My Father! My brothers...……..all gone!" She screamed.

Sophia's body trembled as the sorrow overwhelmed her senses. You glanced at Ivar and hoped he would not punish you for what you were about to request.

"Master, would it be alright if I take her to my chamber?"

Despite staring at you for a moment with a peculiar expression, Ivar nodded his approval. Grateful for his permission, you thanked him and led Sophia away. As you were going, your mother joined you both knowing her presence could help calm the girl.

___________________

It took a great deal of coaxing to get Sophia to finally stop crying. She had wept so much that you feared she would fall sick that very night. Thankfully, you were able to calm her long enough to give her some soup and tuck her into your bed. When your mother left your chamber to go eat, Sophia grabbed your arm forcefully. She looked at you wide-eyed – her face puffy and red from crying.

"Please, Y/N! Do not allow that Heathen to take me away! I know he means to bed me." Sophia begged. "After all I have been through, that will send me over the edge. I cannot bear any more torment."

You rubbed her back while promising to do something to prevent him from taking her away. After talking to her a while longer, you eventually got Sophia to go to sleep.

________________

"Why did you take so long, Y/N?" Ivar asked as soon as you sat down.

Mealtime was almost over and everyone was enjoying the last course your mother and servants had put out. Mulled wine along with Cuskynoles (fruit filled pastries). You apologized to Ivar before you started eating your soup, which was now very cold.

"Is your friend done being emotional?" Hvitserk asked.

You jaw tensed at his absurd question. Did he think she would get over her family being slaughtered just because you spoke to her? Though you wanted to say something sarcastic, you knew better.

"Sophia is not well. She is in deep despair over her family. However, mother and I managed to put her to bed."

Hvitserk seemed indifferent to your response and continued eating. Ivar however, kept watching you.

"I hope you know that you are going to receive punishment, Y/N." He said.

Hvitserk chuckled at his brothers words and glanced at you.

"Punishment?" You asked. "But Master, you gave me permission to take her to my chamber. I know it took long for me to return but I assure you, she was very distraught."

"It has nothing to do with that." He said. "I am referring to you claiming that I would like the Girdle bread. Well…………I hated it."

"Really? But everyone-----."

"Are you questioning me?" Ivar said before taking the cup to his lips.

Knowing you were in an unwinnable situation, you began eating again.

"If you please, Master...." Your grandfather said. “do not be too harsh with my granddaughter. She is well-meaning and did not intend to misguide you. She perhaps does not understand that taste varies from region to region."

Ivar nodded and stated that your grandfather's words were both wise and prudent. For that reason, he assured the old man that he would not punish you severely.

_______________

After mealtime was over, Ivar and his brother sat by the fireplace discussing skirmishes from the days prior. Your mother had gone to check on Sophia whilst your grandfather had already turned in for the night. As you helped clear the dining table, you noted that Ivar kept glancing at you time-to-time. When you returned from the kitchens, he asked you to take a seat beside him. You had wanted to have some private time to read, but apparently, he had other plans.

"Y/N, what do you think of my brother?" Ivar asked.

"What do you mean?" You asked with some confusion.

"What do you think of him as a man?" He said. "He tells me that he desires you. Right Hvitserk?"

Looking at his handsome brother, you contemplated how best to respond. Why Ivar had even asked you such a stupid question, you did not know. As much as you had taught him about your faith, he knew very well how you would reply to such an offensive question. Though you did not want to offend Hvitserk, you also didn't want to say something that made you seem agreeable.

"I am sure most women would be flattered by your intentions. However, my religion forbids fornication."

"Fornication? What does that mean?" Hvitserk asked.

"Well, answer him, Y/N." Ivar commanded with a smirk.

"Fornication is the act of laying with a person you are not married to. God frowns on it."

The brothers erupted with laughter upon hearing your explanation. Ivar knew the definition already but it didn't stop him from chuckling alongside Hvitserk. They both thought it quite absurd that your people denied themselves pleasure in such a strict fashion.

"Now I know why your friend looked ready to collapse whenever I tried to touch her." Hvitserk said.

You waited for the laughter to settle down, not saying anything in response. When you spotted a servant coming with a pitcher of ale, you quickly stood and went to her.

"I will serve them for the rest of the night. You may go." You said.

"Are you certain, Miss?" The woman asked, not wanting to leave you with the Heathens.

“Yes.”

Still not quite convinced, the servant handed you the pitcher and took her leave. You served Hvitserk first, despite not liking the manner in which he looked at you. He was attractive but you could tell that he cared little about hiding his lustful intentions. When you reached Ivar, you looked at him with determination though you were very nervous.

"Might I say something?" You whispered as you filled his cup.

"What is it?"

"It is for you ears only." You answered – keeping your voice low.

Though he appeared irritated by your request, Ivar motioned for you to go ahead. You bent down, you lips practically touching his ear.

"Please do not let your brother take my friend with him. She is traumatized and I fear for her sanity."

Ivar looked up at you with an amused smirk before he glanced at his brother. He then looked back at you.

"What is in it for me?" He said before taking the cup to his lips.

Your heart sank. Perhaps you were naive, or believed too much in the goodness of your fellow man. But you had hoped he would help you out of sheer pity.

"What……what do you want in return?"

"That is not how it works, Y/N." Ivar said with a wicked smile. "Just tell me you will do whatever I want as reward. If you do that, you may keep your friend."

You truly hoped he was not the type to take advantage of the situation. Though very apprehensive about making a deal with him, you really had no choice. You couldn't allow Sophia to be taken by his brother.

"Alright. I will do whatever you want."

Ivar's blue eyes bore into Y/C eyes with satisfaction. In that moment he appeared the perfect likeness of Lucifer. The beautiful angel who seduced people towards darkness by taking them unawares. Whatever he had in mind, you were too tired to think about it. As you placed the pitcher down on the wooden table, you felt his hand upon your wrist.

"Where are you going? I owe you a punishment."

Hvitserk chuckled as his brother pulled you to his lap. Though you were anxious, you did not protest.

"Relax, Y/N. "Ivar said. "Your punishment is simply for you to give me a kiss. Right, here." He added as he pointed to his cheek.

You did not want to, however, a simple kiss on the cheek was easy enough to do. Turning slightly, you leaned towards his face. As you went to kiss his cheek, Ivar turned his head causing your lips to land upon his. Taken aback, you sat up straight with an embarrassed expression. Ivar however, looked very pleased with himself.

"Why do you look so uncomfortable?" He asked. "It was an innocent kiss."

"But you tricked me."

"That may be true. But that does not mean you did not like it. I can see it in your eyes."

"I must go to bed." You said while avoiding his gaze.

"Alright. It seems you Christians turn in as early as children. You may go."

You stood and bid them good evening but before you could leave, Ivar grabbed hold of your hand again.

“What is it now?” You asked.

"I just wanted to make a confession. I did in fact like the Girdle bread." He said with a laugh.

You wanted to hit Ivar but instead, you snatched your hand away. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset, you stormed off to bed. With you gone, the brothers decided to go to the town square to enjoy the festivities their fellow Vikings were holding.

A few hours later, when he had returned home, Ivar snuck into your chamber. He found you asleep on a makeshift bed since Sophia was resting on your own. Quietly as he could, Ivar crawled to you and laid down. Feeling a presence, you stirred from your sleep. When you realized it was Ivar by your side, you asked him if everything was alright.

"I just want to lay in your arms." He said.

Doing as he requested, you cuddled him close to you and soon, the two of you drifted off to sleep.

_______________

After first meal the following morning, you helped the servants prepare a warm bath for Ivar. His brother Hvitserk was not there so you assumed he slept wherever he had been residing since their arrival. As you were cooling down the water in the bathing tub, Ivar entered upon his crutch.

"I am almost done." You informed him.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him take a seat upon the stool before removing his tunic.

"Master! I said I am almost finished. You will have privacy shortly."

"Unlike you, I do not require privacy to disrobe." He said with a chuckle. "I know you fear the human body Y/N, but you should look at me. It is harmless."

"Please." You said with great inhibition. "You know very well that I cannot."

"Why? Because of that book you cling to? Or is it because those strangely dressed men and women make you ashamed of things that are perfectly natural. Either way, you are being very illogical. It is quite absurd to live life always afraid of what others may think of you."

"I am not afraid. I merely revere my faith." You said, fed up with his words. "My religion may not make sense to you, but neither does yours to me. Our Heaven is as real to us as your so-called Valhalla. So, please refrain from insulting my Christian beliefs any further!"

You instantly wished you had not said the last bits. Nevertheless, it was too late to take back your words. Bracing yourself for the worst, you sat quietly as the two male servants continued helping Ivar remove his braces. Oddly enough, he did not say anything nor did he dismiss you. Realizing they were close to undressing Ivar fully, you turned your back to avoid his nudity. When the men had placed him in the bathing tub, he ordered them to get out and wait in the hallway. He still did not dismiss you as you had hoped.

"Come here Y/N."

"I beg you not to do this. You know very well that I cannot look at you."

"Are you testing my patience?"

Relenting, you stood from where you were and walked to him - looking at the floor the entire time. When you finally reached the bathing tub, you knelt beside it, still focusing your gaze elsewhere.

"I assure you that I will not do anything inappropriate." Ivar said. "Just look at me. That is all I ask."

Timidly, you finally gave in and beheld him.

"He is simply beautiful." You thought to yourself.

Since you had never seen a nude man before you had nothing to compare it to. However, you still knew Ivar's body was nearly perfect. His tribal markings and well-toned figure intrigued you, despite all your inner protests. As you were observing his form, Ivar's blue eyes never left you. He was fascinated by your innocence. Not wanting you to leave, he abruptly ordered you to begin washing his back.

"By the way, I took care of your problem." He said as you lathered his back.

"My problem?"

"You wanted my brother to leave your friend Sophia alone, correct?"

"Yes." You replied, gliding the sponge over his muscular shoulder.

"Well, I did as you asked. I told him that I found her very attractive and wanted her for myself. Of course, he did not agree at first but I found a more willing young lady for him last night. A very eager one, might I add. All of you Christians are not so……….chaste, it seems." Ivar said with a chuckle. "So you see, your friend is safe now."

"Thank you."

"There is no need for gratitude, Y/N. After all, I did it for selfish reasons, remember? You owe me." He said, reminding you of your promise. "Once I think of my reward, I will inform you."

"So, your brother believed you wanted her?" You asked - interested in his reasoning for using that particular excuse.

"Of course." An amused Ivar said. "Truthfully, I had planned on asking for her before you said anything. As soon as Sophia stops mourning her family, I will take her as a lover. If I find her very much to my liking, I may even marry her."

You swallowed hard. Hearing him admit his intentions towards her in such blunt fashion made you feel…..jealous.

"Of course, Master." You said. "Sophia has always been considered a beauty. But you do know by the time she is done mourning, you and your people will be long gone."

"I know. That is why I am taking her with me." He replied, causing you to nearly drop the sponge.

Since he felt you stop washing his back, Ivar looked at you, a small smirk curving the sides of his lips.

"What is the matter?" He asked.

"Nothing, Master. I………got distracted." You said.

Suddenly, Ivar grabbed hold of you by the waist and dragged you into the tub. It was so quick, you didn't even have time to scream in protest. He held you tightly as the warm water saturated your dress, making the fabric heavy against your body.

"Have you gone mad?" You hissed. "People are going to think we are doing debauched things! You are going to ruin my reputation!"

"Why must you care so much about the opinion of others?" Ivar asked. Taking hold of the silver cross the dangled over your bust, he pressed his lips against your ear. "Is it because of this?"

You tried to get out of the tub but he only held you tighter. Again, he demanded that you to answer his question about the cross but you refused to speak.

"Fine. Since you want to disobey me, I shall hold on to this until you have earned it back."

Ivar promptly yanked the cross, causing the chain to break. Infuriated by his unreasonable reaction to your silence, you tried to get out of the bathing tub again. This time around, he did not stop you. You climbed out with your dress dripping water much to his amusement. The woman who typically bathed Ivar finally entered carrying two buckets of warm water. When she noticed that you were drenched, she looked away quickly. You could tell the servant was outraged at the entire scene she had walked into. As she put the buckets down near the bathing tub, she turned to Ivar.

"My apologies for taking long, young Master." She said as she lathered the sponge. "I had to fetch more firewood to heat your water."

"You came right on time actually." He said to the woman as he gripped your cross and chain in his left hand. Looking up at you, he smirked. "You may leave Y/N. I am bathing, after all."

___________________

As you and Sophia sat upon one of your mother's quilts, she gazed at the ocean whilst you read. Ivar stood nearby upon his crutch, looking out into the waters as well, deep in thought. He had brought you all to the seashore because the weather was quite delightful that afternoon.

"Thank you for allowing me to stay in your chamber Y/N." Sophia said - her long raven hair blowing in the wind. "I do not know how I can ever repay the kindness you and your family has shown me."

"No need. We are fellow Christians after all." You said before looking back to your book.

You suddenly began to wonder why Ivar was so keen on taking her to his homeland.

“Why do I even care? After all, who wants to be spirited away to live amongst Heathens? Certainly not me.” You assured yourself.

Ivar finally walked over to where the two of you sat and took a seat upon a large rock. When he began to undo the braces on his legs, Sophia asked if she could help.

"That would be nice." He said before glaring at you.

You watched her go to him, her petite frame in a beautiful pink dress that belonged to you. You hated that she looked better in it than you did when you wore it. Truly, you almost regretted allowing her to choose what she wanted from your wardrobe. As she helped Ivar with his leg braces, he took hold of her chin and tilted her face upward.

"Sophia, I hear you lost your whole family. Is that the case?"

"Yes, Master." She said – her voice shaking as if on the verge of tears.

"You have my deepest condolences."

"Thank you. It is kind of you to say that."

You rolled your eyes as you tried to focus on the book. Sophia had always been good at impressing the right people. Even at Church and School, she had always known how to make all the adults like her. But she cared little about her peers liking her, at least the ones she deemed unworthy. Like you, for example. Now, there she sat being coddled by a Viking of all people. It was enough to make you spit.

"Sophia, tell me, who will take care of you now?" Ivar asked.

"I do not know. Y/N and her family have been so kind thus far but I know I cannot live with them forever." She said before shooting you a genuine smile.

Though you smiled in return, you felt the familiar ache of jealousy in the pit of your belly. He spoke to her as if she were a delicate flower. But whenever he spoke to you, he acted as if you were a drinking companion.

"It is true that you cannot live with someone else’s family forever.” Ivar said. “That is why you must be taken care of by a man. Someone who can protect you and provide the things you need in life."

Sophia looked up - her green eyes searching Ivar's. She wasn't sure of what to say. However, she knew that the Viking seemed kinder than all the others she had encountered. Additionally, his infirmity made her not fear him as she did his kinfolk.

"I suppose, if that were to ever happen. I would welcome it, Master."

"Please do not be so formal when addressing me. I want you to call me Ivar from now on."

You nearly threw the book you were trying to read at his head. The sheer nerve! The entire three and a half weeks in your home, he had refused to give his name. In fact, you only learned what he was called due to Hvitserk's slip of tongue. Still, he made you address him as 'Master'.

But after knowing Sophia for barely one day, he had just given permission for her to call his name. To say that you were infuriated would have been an understatement.

"Alright……..Ivar." Sophia said bashfully.

"So, would you like for me to take care of you?"

"Really?" She said with surprise. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Because I like you." He said. "I can provide you things most men cannot."

"If you are being earnest, then, I suppose I would like that very much."

"You understand that it means you have to live in my Kingdom. Are you willing to do that?" Ivar asked.

“Of course. There is nothing left for me here anymore. Just promise that you will not leave me until I get accustomed to things. I will not know anyone in your homeland after all.”

“Do not worry Sophia. You and I will spend allot of time together.”

You turned your back, completely unable to take any more of them interacting with one another. Some time later, as you lost yourself in the fable you were reading, you felt Ivar crawl beside you. Sophia took a seat on the other side of him, much happier than she had been earlier.

"What are you reading?" He asked.

"A book!"

"I see that." Ivar sneered. "Do not show insolence, Y/N."

You looked at him, noting he was truly angered by your response.

"Forgive me, Master." You said with a hint of sarcasm. "I am reading a collection of fables and folklore. Would you like me to read it aloud?"

Apparently curious about the tales from your culture, Ivar agreed. He then positioned his head upon Sophia's lap and asked you to carry on – much to your annoyance. You hated the way he was making you feel as if you were an unwanted person in their midst. Even as you read, you could hear them whispering to one another. What they were discussing, only God himself knew. After you had read about three stories, Ivar sat up, taking notice of the suns position.

"We shall leave soon." He said. "There is rain coming."

"How can you tell?" You asked.

He shrugged and stated that he just knew from the way the wind had changed and the drop in temperature. You found it odd but said nothing more. As for Sophia, she asked if it was alright for her to take a quick walk before you returned home. Ivar gave her permission and just like that, she removed her shoes and knitted hose. Gingerly, she rushed towards the shoreline with her skirts lifted, eager to wet her feet.

"Sophia is quite fragile." Ivar commented as he watched her.

"Is that not what you like?" You said as you placed the book into your leather satchel. "That is why you offered to take care of her, is it not?"

"True, I offered to take care of her." He said. "Why does that seem to bother you?"

"It does not bother me. What you choose to do with her is none of my affair."

"Lies!" Ivar said. "I can see your heart pounding from here. You are a jealous woman, Y/N!"

"That is ridiculous."

"Is it? So if I were to ask her to move into my chamber tonight, you would not care?"

"Why should I?"

Ivar laughed as he crawled closer to you. Sitting up, he peered into your eyes.

"If I did not know any better Y/N, I would think you want me." He said. "But that is impossible, since it would require you to actually feel something between your legs."

You didn’t know why his statement made you so mad. But you were so hurt at his wisecrack that you shoved Ivar hard onto the sand. He landed face first before you realized what you had done. Instant regret took hold as you watched him roll onto his back and spit out the sand that had entered his mouth.

You had allowed your temper to get the best of you and now, were at the mercy of an unpredictable man. Just as Ivar was sitting up and dusting himself off, Sophia returned and looked at his sand covered clothes.

"What happened, Ivar?" She asked with concern helping him straightaway.

"Do not worry yourself. I just had a little bit of an accident." He said eyeing you.

________________

As soon as the evening meal had ended, the storm started - just as Ivar had predicted. Amazed by his ability to predict the weather, Sophia told your family what he had said at the seashore.

"I am not surprised." Your grandfather said. "He is a smart sea-fairing man after all."

"You are too kind." Ivar said as he sipped his mulled wine.

Taking a seat by the fireplace, he asked Sophia to come and sit beside him. To your irritation, he requested that she read from one of your books. So, she sat comfortably beside Ivar whilst you were busy clearing the table with the servants. Your mother, who was busily knitting, glanced at the young Viking and then Sophia, impressed with her change of mood.

"Pardon the interruption, Master, but appears that you are a good influence on her countenance." She remarked.

"I have that effect on women……or so people tell me." Ivar replied giving you a quick glance as you passed by.

You took your time assisting the servants in washing the tableware despite not being required to. The reason being that you wanted to avoid having to endure Ivar and his newfound attachment to Sophia. When you finally made your way back to the sitting room, she was not there. Ivar and your mother were the only ones sat by the fireplace. Still drinking, he seemed content to listen to your mother sing as she knitted.

"Come and sit." Ivar said, pointing to a chair near him.

You sat down and tried your best to avoid his gaze. You could sense his mischievous intentions from the way he even gave the command.

"Why did you push me?" He asked. "It was discourteous. Do you know I have killed men for less than that?"

Upon hearing his statement, your mother stopped what she was doing. She looked at you with both astonishment and anger.

"Y/N!" How could you do such a thing?"

Your jaw tightened so hard that you were certain that your teeth would crack. There was no explanation you could think of that would appease them. You did it in the heat of the moment as a reaction to his vulgarity. But of course, you couldn't say that.

"Apologize to him this instant!" Your mother commanded.

You were her only child and she determined to protect you, even if it was from yourself. Regardless of how kind he had been thus far, Ivar was still part of an invading Viking force. A force that had devastated your settlements thoroughly despite being outnumbered. You went to where he sat and knelt beside him.

"Master, please forgive me. What I did was very cruel and worthy of punishment. I truly do not know what came over me."

Ivar fought his desire to laugh. He was more amused with your apology than anything else. Looking at your mother, he proclaimed that he accepted your show of remorse and would let the matter go.

"Thank you, Master." Your mother replied - pleased with his compassion.

You took your seat again, listening to the crackling of the fire and your mother's singing. Unexpectedly, Sophia returned to the sitting area. You thought she had gone to bed but that was apparently not the case. She was carrying some wood and other items bound in leather.

"Here you go." She said as she placed the items on the table. "I am sorry I took long finding it."

Ivar took hold of one of the pieces of wood and began whittling. From what you could assess, he was making more arrows. As he worked, he would glance at you from time-to-time. Sophia, who seemed tired from the long day, placed her petite hands upon her lap and watched him work. Like you, she was waiting for him to give her permission to turn in for the night. Since Ivar seemed intent on keeping you and your friend awake, your mother grew tired and bid you all a good evening. With the three of you finally alone, he looked up from his whittling.

"Sophia, I am curious as to how you wound up in the company my brother."

"With my family gone………I took refuge with some women and children an undamaged church. One day he, your brother, entered with some men. They began ransacking the valuables and taking some of the women. Though I hid, he spotted me and took me by force. It wasn't too long after that when the two of you happened upon us."

"So he had no time to lay with you?" Ivar asked.

Sophia looked down at her hands.

"No. Thankfully."

"Why are you people so afraid of being touched?" He asked in an amused tone. "So you would not lay with a man even if you desired him greatly?"

"It does not matter how we feel. We are expected to deny our lust." Sophia said flatly.

Ivar rolled his eyes before glancing at the two of you. It seemed he had heard enough about your religion for the night.

"You may go to bed now. Y/N and I have something to discuss."

Pleased to get some rest, she stood and proceeded to leave the two of you alone. As she passed by Ivar, he unexpectedly took hold of her wrist. Looking directly at you, he pointed to his cheek. Sophia obliged and placed a chaste kiss upon his cheek.

"And here." He said, tapping his lips with his finger.

Without hesitation, Sophia bent down and gave him a peck causing you to scowl.

"What does he hope to gain doing all this in my presence?" You wondered.

"Good evening, Y/N." Sophia said, interrupting your internal brooding.

"Good evening to you as well. God watch over you as you sleep."

With a smile, she departed for your chamber. Ivar began chuckling as soon as the two of you were alone.

"God watch over her? Well, I suppose she does need protection……from you."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me Y/N. If looks could kill, you would have killed poor Sophia twice over. Honestly, you are quite terrible at hiding your jealously. Which is a sin, if I am not mistaken. Is that not one of your commandments? To not envy others."

You shifted in your seat, angered by the smug way he eyed you up and down.

"Let us go to my chamber. I require your help getting ready for bed." Ivar said as he placed his whittling items down.

"I can get one of the servants."

"No! After shoving me, it is the least you can do."

_______________

"Do you not want your nightclothes?" You asked as you held them up.

"No." Ivar said as he laid on his back.

He was nude with the exception of the coverlet pulled up to his pelvis. Because of this, you made sure to look away as you arranged his clothes.

"Y/N, stop folding those things and come lay beside me."

Your head snapped in his direction – absolutely dumbfounded by the request.

"There are many things I can do for you, however, that is not one of them. What of my mother? And do you know what rumors the servants will----."

"I care not for what people think and neither should you. Besides, I saved Sophia as you requested so this is what I want in payment. You shall sleep beside me tonight."

You sighed heavily. Of all the things he could think of as "payment", it had to be this. Something that could start wild gossip about your chastity. You went to the bed and sat down. As you began removing your shoes and hosiery, Ivar sat up and watched. When you attempted to lay down however, he became upset.

"No! Take your dress off first." He demanded.

"What?"

"You heard me Y/N. Take it off. If you keep me waiting, I will do it for you!"

You chuckled slightly at his threat, thinking that not even he could be so irrational. But, Ivar proved you wrong. Grabbing hold of you, he dragged you into the bed. Without hesitation, he began loosening the fastenings of your bodice.

"Alright!" You shouted. "I will take it off."

Despite you saying you would now cooperate, Ivar did not stop forcefully undressing you. He broke the lacing of your dress and pulled it down with force - exposing your breasts.

"Wait!" You shouted, hitting him several times in the process.

Despite your protests, he continued to ignore you. It did not take long for him to remove both your dress and smock. After he tossed them onto the floor, he looked down at you.

"Y/N, remove this as well." Ivar said as his fingertips danced across the waistband of your linen breeches.

Your heart raced as you pulled the garment down until it finally reached your ankles. As you slipped them off, Ivar looked at you, pleased to finally have you nude beside him. You lay upon your back, staring at the ceiling - wondering how you had managed to get yourself in such a predicament.

"Admit it. This is not as appalling as everyone has made you believe." Ivar said.

Before you could reply, he pulled you closer, so close you could feel his breath upon your cheek. The two of you laid in silence for a while before he raised his head to look at you.

"There is something I must tell you, Y/N. It is important that you know it, before I say what is truly on my mind."

He then made you promise that you would not laugh nor react in a way that would upset him. When you agreed, he exhaled deeply before gazing into your eyes.

"I have never laid with a woman before."

You were speechless. Did this Viking really want you to believe that he was a virgin? Since you had heard tales of their animalistic sexual practices, you nearly scoffed.

"Master, I do-----."

"Ivar, will suffice." He said.

"So you are finally permitting me to call you by your given name?" You asked with irritation. "Why did it have to take so long?"

"I would have given permission sooner but you behave like a spiteful child."

"What?" You said – annoyed by the accusation.

"You heard me. At any rate, does that really matter now?"

"I suppose not."

"Good. Now, go ahead and finish your thought." Ivar said.

"I was going to say that I am surprised. Honestly, it is almost hard to believe."

"Why, Y/N? Can you not see that I am a cripple? I know some are able to…..please women and even have children but, I...……"

You stroked the side of Ivar's face, observing the deep sadness that prevented him from finishing his words.

"Ivar, I understand." You said affectionately.

"Do you know why I chose to share something so personal with you?"

"Because you trust me?"

"Yes. But not only that. I shared this because I have grown fond of you."

"But....Sophia?"

"Do not bring her into this. I just confessed that I have fallen for you. Therefore, I deserve a response. And please, do not lie to me. I grow weary of all the pretense. Even a blind person can see the way your jealousy has peaked since your friend arrived."

"Alright, Ivar. I do care about-------."

He could not wait any longer. His yearning to kiss you got the best of him. Crashing his lips to yours, he took your breath away with a passionate but loving kiss. Brushing his bottom lip against yours, he cupped your cheek in his rough hand.

"I will not play with your emotions again if you will stop denying your feelings for me." Ivar said. "Are we in agreement?"

With his mouth only inches from yours, you simply nodded - too overwhelmed by everything that had occurred. Pressing his soft lips against yours, he gave you another kiss before embracing you tightly.

"We are leaving your settlements soon." He whispered.

Your heart sank. Why did he not say anything before confessing his feelings for you? Turning your back to him, you tried your best to not let your disappointment show.

"Sleep well, Y/N." Ivar said, as he held you close.

You were barely able to wish him the same as you fought the tears that welled in your eyes. Closing your eyes, you decided to rest a little before sneaking back to your chamber.

_________________

The following day, you and Ivar were still asleep when some servants entered to do their chores. Upset to see you in bed with the Heathen, the appalled women shook their heads as they worked. A Christian girl bedding a murderous Viking in her own family's home? The scandal of it all. Eventually, a groggy Ivar raised his head and looked beside him. He was happy to see that you were peacefully sleeping beside him. Laying his head back down, he asked one of the women to make certain that his bath was drawn.

"Of course, Master." She said. "Shall we have the kitchen warm food for afterward since you missed the morning meal?"

"Yes. And make sure there is some for Y/N as well."

The incensed woman left as the other servants continued gathering Ivar's clothes to be washed.

________________

When you had taken you bath and dressed for the day, you entered the main room to dead silence. Sophia was quietly reading the bible whilst your mother knitted, quite furious from what you could gather. Your grandfather regarded you briefly as he played chess with Ivar. However, you noticed the hint of disappointment in his eyes.

"They think he bedded me!" You realized.

You chastised yourself. Why did you not awaken early as you had planned? It was not your intention to be caught in bed with Ivar at all. You had anticipated waking in the middle of the night and sneaking to your chamber before anyone was the wiser. Unfortunately, sleeping beside him proved to be too comfortable.

"Y/N! Take a seat!" Your mother snapped.

You immediately obeyed and sat down whilst Ivar continued mulling over his chess moves. He seemed quite unaffected by the fact that everyone thought he had deflowered you.

"Master, if you do not mind, your attention is required." Your mother said.

Still calm as ever, Ivar looked at her and stated that she had his attention.

"There is talk that you were in bed with my daughter. Both of you completely naked."

You cringed and placed your hands over your face. Sophia, who had obviously heard the rumors as well, glanced at you from her bible. Remarkably, she gave you a compassionate look. After being silent for a few minutes, Ivar finally spoke.

"I will let your daughter address the issue." He said.

Looking at your mother, you became more afraid of her than you had ever been in your entire life. You understood that you allowed yourself to get caught in a compromising position. However, you were hurt that everyone automatically presumed the worst. Regardless of what you were about to say, the rumors were already flying.

"We did not mean for it to happen, mother." You said with your head bowed.

Your mother stared at you - very hurt by your confession. No Christian man would want you now. Despite coming to your side and embracing you, your grandfather also looked dejected. He too understood that you would never find a husband, not a decent one at least. The rumor had already begun spreading thanks to the household servants. It wouldn't be long before you were the talk of all the settlements.

"Do you know what they will do to my granddaughter now?" Your grandfather asked. "She will be shunned if not worse."

As Ivar sipped his mead, he stared at you. He was amused that you had not denied the accusation.

"Well, what would you like me to do about it, Sir? Your people are quite irrational when it comes to their beliefs. You cannot expect me to convince them to forgive her." He said.

"I am not expecting such a thing. However, I expect you to make an honest woman out of her. It is the least you can do."

Ivar shrugged and asked why they assumed that he wanted a wife. This made your grandfather quite livid. As he kept his hand upon your shoulder, he informed Ivar that he was not being a gentleman.

"True. But I never claimed to be one. I am merely a Viking that came here to conquer and attain treasure. Nothing more, nothing less."

You glared at Ivar, unsure of what he hoped to accomplish by uttering such cruel things. He was not being the person he had been the previous evening. Noticing your angry eyes upon him, Ivar could not stop himself from smirking.

"Alright. Let us pretend that I agree to make an honest woman out of Y/N. Who will guarantee that I shall return to exchange vows? After all, my people depart tomorrow."

Your jaw nearly dropped. He had mentioned that they were leaving but he never stated that it was so soon.

"Then you will take her with you!" Your mother interrupted as she stood. Standing right in front of Ivar, she faced off with him in determined fashion. "It is the only way. Furthermore, you shall pay her worth in gold and silver. I will not allow you to just walk off into the sunset after taking advantage of my daughter!"

You were all taken aback by your mother's boldness. In all your life, you had never seen her act so fearless. As everyone awaited Ivar's response, he leisurely took a swig of mead. Obviously, his demeanor made you uneasy and you feared that your mother had pushed him too hard.

"Fine. I shall do as you have asked." Ivar said.

You could not believe your ears. One of the most fearsome Vikings you had ever seen had just conceded to your mother. After all the times you had seen him bloody from head to toe, you never expected such an outcome. Ivar motioned for you to come to him, which of course you did right away. Taking hold of your hand, he looked up at you.

"Y/N, I have heard from your mother but now, it is your turn to have your say. Will you leave with me tomorrow as my intended wife?"

"Of course I will." You said, even surprising yourself at how quickly you said it.

Ivar looked up at you, seemingly amazed that the two of you were finally going to be together.

__________________

The following afternoon, you and Sophia stood upon the deck of the head ship looking out into the ocean. Ivar had brought her along just as promised.

"Y/N, thank you for being such a good friend. I do not know what I would have done without you."

"Of course. I am just glad to have your company."

"So am I. Though I do not have any family left, at least I now have you. We shall be like sisters." Sophia said before giving you a hug.

You smiled, amazed at how much tragedy had changed her once conceited personality. From afar, Ivar watched the two of you a while, still amazed that you cared for him.

After some time, he finally approached you upon his crutch.

"Do you mind if I have some private time with Y/N?" He asked.

"Of course not." Sophia replied. "I was planning to lay down anyway. To be honest, I think I am beginning to feel seasick."

As you stood beside him, you glanced at Ivar, still astonished at the amount of coin he had given just to have you.

"You know something Y/N, it is a good thing that your people are so zealous." He said pulling you close. "Had it not been for their irrational need for purity, I would not have gained your hand. I knew that having you in my bed would cause panic and rumors. However, I did not expect you to go along with it. I thought you surely would deny it all."

"Well Ivar, that just proves you do not know everything about me." You said playfully.

He smiled at your assertion before telling you that he had to keep a closer eye on you.

"We shall marry Sophia off to Hvitserk, when she is done with her mourning. He was very pleased with the idea when we spoke at the docks."

"You mean, you do not want her as a second wife or something of the sort?"

Ivar burst into laughter, honestly amused by your query.

"You cannot be serious, Y/N. I have already stated that I flirted to get a rise out of you. At any rate, until she and Hvitserk marry, she will help you not feel completely alone in Kattegat."

Ivar then turned you to face him.

"Please answer me truthfully. After what I told you, do you think you will be happy being my wife?"

"Why ask such a thing? Did I not know it before getting on this ship?" You said before wrapping your arms around his neck.

You embraced Ivar tightly as a way to reassure him that you would never abandon him.

___________________

In Kattegat, you and Sophia spent the first three weeks not only getting settled into Ivar's estate, but getting accustomed to the fact that he was a Prince. Something he failed to mention for some odd reason. Things were quite good but there were the times people whispered whenever they saw you in town. It was never about you being foreigners, it was always about Ivar. It appeared your future husband had quite the reputation.

You were always overhearing talk of him being evil, murderous and insane. In spite of all the awful things you heard about him, none made sense to you. Ivar was not the monster people made him out to be. At least from what you observed. He was kind, attentive and more generous than anyone you had ever known. Not only did he purchase new wardrobes for you and Sophia, but surprised you by returning your repaired chain and cross .

Something no Viking would ever do for a Christian spouse. And though you were initially afraid to wear it, Ivar assured you that no one would dare harass you.

He also made certain to introduce you to the people that were important to him, which of course included his four brothers. Ivar did admit that he fought with Bjorn and Sigurd often and that he hated Bjorn’s mother. He promised to tell you his reasons after you were married. As for Sophia, despite her initial aversion to Hvitserk's personality, she began enjoying his company. She only had to slap him the one time during an outing when he became too frisky. Needless to say, you and Ivar always got a good laugh whenever the two of them were near.

One day, Ivar seemed quite upset, brooding to the point that you grew frustrated. He refused to tell you what was wrong despite you begging him to tell you. But when he left for ‘fresh air’ one of the older servants whispered something to you. Though afraid, he stated that his Master mourned his mother when in such a mood and told you where to find him. When you had the guards take you to where Ivar was, you found him seated upon a large rock wearing his hooded cloak. Despite it being cold, he sat there, weeping in a way that utterly broke your heart.

The guards suggested that you leave him be, but you went to him despite their advice. When he heard footsteps, a sorrowful Ivar turned, stunned to see you before him.

“Ivar, please tell me------.”

“Y/N, why did you come here?” He said, embarrassed at you seeing him such a state. “Go home!”

“Why should I?”

“Because I wish to be alone and I ordered you to!” He hissed. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

“Well, I am staying. If you want to weep again, do it in my arms.” You said before embracing him.

Despite initially being angry with you, Ivar rested his head upon your shoulder and gripped your waist tightly. He knew then that you were not only going to be a good wife but his most loyal companion.

___________________

On the one month anniversary of you arriving in Kattegat, Ivar held a feast in the Great Hall. It was an event to not only welcome you formally but to celebrate your upcoming nuptials. Since he had invited mostly family and intimate friends, the faces of the guests were all familiar to you.

"So tell me Y/N, are you excited about becoming the wife of our sweet, little Ivar?" Margrethe asked.

Though you had met the fair-haired woman a handful of times, she always insisted on being sarcastic. Why? You had no idea. You only knew that you found it quite irritating.

"Of course. I adore him more than anything in the world." You said sincerely.

Ivar kissed the back of your hand lovingly after your response. Truly, no one knew just how deeply you cared for one another. Ubbe glanced at his wife from across the table, his eyes silently gesturing that he wanted her to stop talking.

However, she was drunk and thus, she did what drunk people did best. Speak without thinking.

"Since you are a Christian, you may not know what you are getting yourself into." She said before taking a mouthful of ale. "Do you know what I mean?"

Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd and Bjorn exchanged glances around the table. As his brothers, they knew what she was alluding to.

"Why Margrethe, I see that the 'herb potatoes' are near you. Could you pass them, please?" Queen Astrid said in an attempt to distract her.

Though she did pass the food as requested, Margrethe's attention went straight back to you.

"I asked you a question, Y/N."

Ivar squeezed you hand tightly. When you glanced at him, you noticed that his jaw was clenched.

You understood straightaway that Margrethe was leading you into a topic he did not like. Giving her your attention, you stated that you had no idea what she was going on about.

"Fine. I will just give you a-------"

"Margrethe, hold your tongue!" Ubbe demanded. "You best eat your food if you know what is good for you."

Everyone ate in awkward silence as they watched you and Margrethe. Though they all hoped she would listen to her husband and shut her mouth, they knew better. Margrethe was a former Thrall who did not know her place now that she was married to a Prince.

"As I was saying Y/N, I will give you a hint. Your soon to be husband will not service you in the bedroom."

"Margrethe! Why do you keep talking? Your husband told you to close your mouth and eat your food!" An irritated Hvisterk said.

Nevertheless, in the same manner that she ignored Ubbe, she ignored him as well.

"So you see, you will remain a virgin, little Christian." Margrethe added.

"Is that so?" You asked, angered at her attempt to humiliate Ivar.

"Yes. I know from personal experience. He could not………rise to the occasion."

"So why does that indicate that there was something wrong with him?" You said with your head held high.

"Pardon?" A confused Margrethe asked.

"You assume something is wrong with Ivar based on your "experience"? I beg to differ. In my eyes, it only shows that you have a dysfunctional cunt that fails to excite men!"

Ivar could not believe his ears. As the host, he had to keep his composure, however he was amused at your ability to curse so effectively.

King Harald nearly choked on his bread. Grabbing his horn, he quickly drank from it as everyone in the Great Hall burst into laughter. The entire room was in hysterics. Needless to say, Margrethe's cockiness was completely knocked out of her. She now sat quietly with a stupid look upon her face.

Ivar pulled you into his lap, utterly captivated by the way you handled her in front of everyone.

"Did I do well?" You whispered in his ear.

"Y/N, you are quite unpredictable." He said before lifting his horn slightly. "To you and I, versus the world.

"As it should be." You replied – raising yours in return.

____________

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