#the red flags are waving. and brother i am charging toward them like a raging bull lemme tell ya

[bunnysnared]

"meat is meat. i can butcher it all the same."

[cw knives, blood, implied violence/murder, dark!au] happy spooky szn everyone!! here is a sketch of a butcher!ghost au that @bressynonym has cooked up that i am obsessed with... have a fun and safe halloween everyone!

[e-m-christina]

Serpent Of Sparta

Ivar The Boneless x Reader

PART ONE

Requested by @childishhoe

Summary: Ivar Lothbrok meets his match when he is introduced to Y/n Artròmitos, the daughter of a bloodthirsty Spartan king. She is sent to fight in Ivars army, after making an arrangement with Rollo, the Duke of Normandy. 

With matching rage and ambition, Y/n feeds into Ivars flame, igniting feelings that neither of them thought they were capable of. But fire can easily be burnt out.

Series Overall Rating: 17+

Word Count: 2k

Comment to be added to taglist. Requests are open. 

MASTERLIST

* * *

TWO MONTHS AGO                                                      

 Your incarnadine wrap dress fluttered in the wind, fastened only by the golden broach of nobility at your exposed shoulder. Rays of early morning sun glinted off the wine glass that was being twirled between your fingers, as you watched the city from the castle of Mistras. A new batch of children were being piled into carriages, waiting to be sent off as slaves, to the city of Athens. 

“You cannot keep running from this marriage. I know you already rule Athens, but after the death of your husband, you must marry again!” You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes at your father’s remark.

“I have no time for love. I had to sacrifice love for respect. You know this much.” You took a seat opposite your father, who was running a hand over his grey beard. “On the contrary, the Athenians are weak. If I wanted to marry again, I would choose someone in a position of strength.” You said, rolling a grape between your pointer and thumb, making your father sigh.

“I know what you sacrificed, Y/n. What you had to do was terrible, but it was for the best. Both for you and your d-”

“Anyway,” You said, cutting your father off, “I am already Queen of Athens and the leader of the Spartan army. What use would a husband be?”

“Commander Y/n.” The doors of the hall burst open, revealing a puffed and red faced soldier. “The Duke Of Normandy has sent you this.” He passed you a piece of tinted brown parchment, bound by the wax stamp of Normandy. 

“Leave me.” You waved your hand, and the warrior promptly left the room. 

* * *

“Rollo is bringing a great ally, from a place named ‘Sparta.” Hvitserk said, standing beside his brother, Ivar, and King Harald. A fleet of blue Francia flags sailed towards them like great dragons on the dusky pewter ocean.

“I have heard little of this ally that Rollo is bringing.” Harald said, folding his arms across his chest. “But, what I have heard is that he is a great and fearsome warlord, and that his soldiers are blood-thirsty demons.”  

“She. The ally is a she.” Hvitserk corrected Harald, watching Ivars expression turn into one of curiosity. 

“What is her name then, dear brother?” Ivar asked, staring at the approaching ships with a new found excitement. 

“Y/n. But she is often referred to as the ‘Serpent of Sparta.’” Hvitserk said, feeling uneasy about the glint in Ivars blue eyes. “And if I were you, I would stay out of her way. Her people basically worship her. They believe that she is a descendant of one of their Gods of battle. Ares I believe God was called.”

Ivar smirked. Not only was she apparently a great warrior, but she was also apparently descended from the gods?

“Well, I do look forward to meeting this ‘Y/n’. I would hope that she lives up to her reputation, otherwise I will be disappointed.” Ivar took one last glance at the oncoming fleet, before making his way back down the salt washed wooden deck, ignoring the ‘of course you do,’ from Harald. 

* * *

Your nose wrinkled. The pungent smell of decaying fish grew stronger as you came to dock. After stopping in Francia to gather Rollo’s men, you and three hundred of your best Spartan warriors made for Norway. And after two weeks at sea, you were in a horrid mood. After an attempted assassination directed at you, you were pushed over the edge. Not only did you have to command your own men, Rollo had dropped out the day you were meant to leave, making you in charge of all his Francish soldiers. The problem other than the sheer amount of men to keep track of? There was  a massive language barrier. You spoke Russian because you often went to Kiev, on trade deals, and you also spoke the language of the northmen. Not french.

Your days often consisted of making ludacris hand gestures to command the french, only to be laughed at by your own warriors. Though you only shared the same ship as your best warriors, the only person you could confide in was Freydis, a Norwegian slave that you had bought from Kattegat five years prior. She had taught you the language of Norway and you taught her Greek. Freydis had grown to be your best, and only friend. You had made her a free woman, yet she chose to stay by your side, through everything. She told you everything about herself and she knew almost everything about you.

“Get ready to dock!” You yelled, throwing thick reams of hemp rope attached to an anchor into the dark water, before climbing over the edge of the ship, Freydis and your best fighters trailing behind you. You were greeted by a large wooden dock surrounded by what looked like disheveled old fishermen.

“I thought these people would be made from tougher stuff.” You said in your language, making your warriors laugh, as you fixed the golden clasp of your crimson cloak. With one flick of your hand, your Spartan warriors started to march down the dock in a wild wave of red and gold. You were at the head, with Freydis and Araios, your second in command, by your side. 

“Commander, I heard that this ‘Ivar the Boneless’ is a cripple. Talk about not being tough.” Araios chuckled. You did not not.

“So what? One of our gods, Hephaestus was crippled, yet he was a great warrior. I would not so lightly throw that statement around with malice.” You gave Araios a stern look, before continuing down the dock. 

* * *

“I have been anticipating your arrival, Lady Y/n.” You came to a stop in front of the throne that King Harald Finehair was situated on. “We all have.” He finished, before waving his hand at Hvitserk, a Northman you had met in France, and a dark haired Viking that you had not yet met.

“You will address me as Queen or Commander Y/n.” You corrected King Harald. “Take your pick.”  The dark haired Viking chuckled, before reaching out his hand. 

“Do you know who I am?” He said, shaking your hand. Since he was obviously not King Harald, or Hvitserk, it was a simple enough equation to solve. 

“You are Ivar The Boneless. Ragnar Lothbrok's youngest.” You said, making Ivar duck his head with a grin.

“And you have met my brother, I hear.” Ivar pointed to Hvitserk, who refused to make eye contact with you.

“Yes. I remember him. I had to put him in his place after he unsuccessfully tried to ‘woo’ me into bed.” You shot a look at Hvitserk, who was scratching the back of his head and glaring at his brother.

“Well, Queen Y/n, I am sure that we can thank the Gods that you and your men have arrived unharmed. Though, I must ask, where is Rollo?” King Harald said, moving from his throne to sit at a table with Ivar and Hvitserk, indicating for you to do the same.

“Yes, I give thanks to Poseidon for a good passage.” You said, taking a seat opposite the northmen. “As for Duke Rollo, he had urgent business along the Silk Road to attend to.”

“I am sure that you will fare well in his stead. But for now, make yourself comfortable. Tonight there will be a great feast to mark your arrival.”  

* * *

Mushroom soup, bitter greens with tomatoes the size of peas, rare roast beef slices as thin as paper, dried salmon and whale in a green sauce, cheese you brought from Francia that melts on your tongue served with sweet blue grapes. The feast was certainly large and exciting. But it was not the type of food you and your warriors were used to. Usually, you had lean chicken breast and a small bunch of grapes, greens, bread and the occasional fish. All  because a doctor in Athens had carried out research to conclude that those foods helped with building of muscle. The servants that the Northmen called ‘thralls’,  were all young women dressed in greys rags, moved wordlessly to and from the table, keeping the platters and glasses full.

“Why are your Spartan soldiers eating outside?” Ivar asked you, finding it odd that only the warriors from Francia and Norway were in the feasting hall.

“We eat outside for the most part. You said, taking a sip of Mead. The drink of the northmen was certainly different to your usual wine, but it was a welcome difference. “They also sleep outside in trenches. My people believe that it makes them stronger. Little girls and boys born in Sparta, are placed in a number of trials. They have to fight and fend for themselves. If they can’t, they either are left on a hillside to die, or they are sent to the City of Athens as slaves.” 

“We do something similar. We leave the weak out to die. But we do not test our children like that. Is that not too harsh?” Ivar said, leaning forward, making you chuckle. 

“Ivar, if you want to be the best, you have to have the best warriors. And because I am sitting here right now, proves that you do not have the best warriors.” You said. Ivar narrowed his eyes as he tipped his cup of mead back and placed it on the table.

“We do have good warriors. We were just out numbered, because Bjorn had hired the help of the woodland fighters from Sweden.” Ivar crossed his arms, clearly annoyed that you would suggest his army was not sufficient. You had to laugh. Were these men being serious? 

“Forgive me, I forget that the warriors of your people are not on the same level as mine.” You smirked into your horn of mead, watching as offence flickered over Ivars face. 

“And why would you say that?” Hvitserk said, trying to defuse Ivars switch. 

“The Battle of Thermopylae. Three hundred of my Spartan warriors fought against a vast army of the Persians. There were thousands of them, yet, we still won. Yes, we did have the advantage of land, being that we were on the high ground, but non the less. And you tell me that with a huge heathen army, you could not win because the other side had a couple hundred more warriors?” You said, making Ivar scoff. 

“Well, then it was fated. The Gods were on your side, otherwise you would have lost.” Ivar said, making you frown.

“When my Spartan warriors fight, Ares grants us good will.” You narrowed your eyes and leaned forward. “But are you telling me that the Gods don’t favour you?” 

“Don’t be stupid, of course the Gods favour us, afterall, they have allowed us to pull together an even bigger army.” Ivar said as he re-filled his horn with gritted teeth. 

“In any case, it is up to fate now. Hmm?” Harald said, standing up. “Well, I must go now and see where Astrid has gotten to.” King Harald took on the last swig of Mead, before weaving his way through the crowd and through a door at the back of the room. 

“Well, it is getting late. I better go find Freydis.” You said and stood up. “Have a good night.” You ignored Ivars grunt and nodded your head at Hvitserks ‘farewell,’ before following the same path as Harald. 

“What do you think of her, brother?” Hvitserk asked cautiously, very aware of Ivars clenched jaw and his blue eyes baring into your back as you left. Ivars silence made Hvitserk bite his lip. He did not think he could bear his brother complaining about you for the next few weeks. 

“She is arrogant and rather patronizing.” Ivar said, a smirk slowly curling his lip. “I like her.”

* * *

“You fight like a child.” You spat out a mouthful of salty crimson, swinging your bruised fist. Crack! The large white-haired viking toppled into the mud - for the third time. He had challenged you to a fight after he overheard you talking the night prior. But unfortunately for him, he just proved your point. You being half his size and a woman, he thought he could win the fight with ease. But you had only sustained a punch to the jaw, whereas he was sporting a broken and nose and multiple lost teeth.

“Þú eru witchr!” The man growled, stumbling up from the mud.

“No I am not a witch.” You side-stepped out of his way, as he lunged towards you, only to miss completely and stagger back down into the mud with a thump. “I am just better than you.”

“When I asked you to come help fight, I did not mean fight my men.” You heard a voice call. Turning around, you saw Ivar, who was leaning against a blacksmiths doorway. He stretched out his hand and beckoned you toward him.

“What do you want?” You asked, annoyed that you were interrupted. 

“I was thinking about what you said last night.” Ivar said, tapping his crutch thoughtfully. 

“So was he.” You pointed your thumb at White-Hair, who was still on the ground a few yards away. Ivar rolled his eyes and leaned forward.

“Not like that. I want you to train my warriors.” Ivar said, watching your expresion flicker.

“And why would I do that?”

“Do you want to win this battle?” He asked.

“I could win this battle easier without your men.” You retorted, crossing your arms. Did you not have enough to worry about?

“Then why don’t you?”

--

Part 2 coming soon.

Requests open. Comment if you want added to the taglist.

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[traincat]

Do you think that Johnny/Daken's canonical relationship was at least semi-abusive or at least really unhealthy? I see a lot of people really liking it but their interactions in that comic book gave me a lot of red flags :/

Oh yeah, 100%, this is not a healthy relationship in canon. I think my thoughts on that have always been pretty upfront? I know I’ve never written it happy or healthy lol. Not to knock anyone shipping it, everyone should ship what they want and besides I ship this (not in terms of wanting a happily ever after or for them to necessarily even interact again, but more in terms of where’s the 30k dirtybadwrong smutfest), but yeah, I think it’s more than fair to say that in canon this is messed up from start to finish, as one would expect from a relationship between Johnny, who Just Wants To Be Loved, and a master manipulator like Daken.

I’m going to break it down with pictures because otherwise I have to work on fic who doesn’t love a deep read. While, for the record, I don’t believe Daken ever had to use his pheromone powers to get Johnny to sleep with him, he canonically uses them to influence several people in Dark Wolverine #75 alone, and at least one of them sleeps with him as a direct result, so sticking a consent warning on everything. Long and picture-heavy exploration underneath:

Dark Wolverine #75-77, the beginning:

So right off the bat, we’ve established that Daken uses people to get things. We’ll get into where Johnny plays into this in a moment, but it’s just an important thing to remember in general re: this particular story.

During an Osborn’s Avengers board meeting, Daken baits Bullseye into shooting him with an arrow:

(There’s a pattern here: first, there’s Barry, the guy you see in the first set of panels I’ve posted. Then, there’s this agent. If there’s an unseen third person who sleeps with Daken over the course of this story, well, it’s definitely Johnny.)

Anyway, the next time we see the arrow Bullseye shot Daken with is later on in this issue, when the Fantastic Four crash a party:

Shooting a cute guy through the thigh and then blaming your coworker! The start of every classic romance, am I right. So already we’re not off to a great start here.

Daken later shows up at the Baxter Building to ingratiate himself into the Fantastic Four’s midst – by baiting Ben Grimm into beating the hell out of him. It seems like a weird strategy, but it’s very effective. (It’s heavily implied that most of the baiting involves Daken purposefully using his powers to push Ben into a rage – but the verbal component does involve Daken suggesting Ben is sexually attracted to Johnny. And then Daken’s head meets the floor, repeatedly.)

Anyway, it’s a REALLY good move to get Johnny’s sympathy, which is pretty freely given, but most importantly Johnny doesn’t like when the people around him engage in ultra violence, and frequently attempts to be the peacekeeper:

In addition to Johnny being a soft touch, he’s also by far the easiest target if Daken plans to get close by getting into bed with one of them. Reed and Sue are married – not that he wouldn’t do it on that basis alone, but if he wants to stay in their good graces beyond the immediate time (and we see later that he does), well, that’s going to cause drama. With Ben there’s I think both the physical aspect of Ben being a huge rock guy and the fact that Daken has more fun pushing Ben’s buttons in other ways. Johnny’s the obvious (and prettier) choice.

The Four and Daken talk:

So let’s look at these two panels: Ben, Sue, and Reed are all expressing skepticism, but Johnny’s silent. He’s just watching Daken. His body language is pretty attentive – he’s leaning towards him and listening. In the last panel, Daken looks back at him.

When Daken and Reed’s plans against Norman Osborn go south, the Four are “forced” to abandon Daken and flee on their own. I say “forced” in quotation marks because I suspect that Daken’s “go on without me” moment is as big of an act as everything else – a way to make Reed feel indebted to him as he nobly lies in the rubble and waves them on to do their noble work. Johnny, notably, is very upset at the idea that they’ll have to leave Daken behind:

Re: the “keep your voice down” scolding, I think another thing that plays into how easy it would be for Daken to get Johnny to do whatever he wanted is the fact that the group to this day very much treats Johnny as the baby, a role he’s alternately clung to and rebelled against. To have Daken – older, mature, appearing just this side of dangerous – take him seriously (or act like he does, anyway) would be pretty heady for him.

So that’s where this first storyline ends: with Reed feeling indebted to Daken and Johnny, if not involved with him already (unlikely, given the short period of time, but not impossible), then at the very least emotionally invested in him and receptive towards him.

So now we open with Daken #1, where Daken is having sex with a model backstage at a fashion show:

(NOT TO BE THIS WAY BUT I think this kind of attitude is something Johnny’s into in the bedroom. But really I mostly included this panel as an example of how Daken talks during a sexual encounter – since we never actually see Johnny and Daken together in a sexual context, I’ve decided to use Daken’s other encounters as a kind of proxy to read the mood.)

After some sexually charged dialogue between Daken, a few other models, and the designer, he receives a phone call from Johnny:

We only see Daken’s side of this conversation, but there’s a flirtatious edge to it – “What would I have done? Oh, Johnny.” Daken’s also pretty in control of the conversation: it’s light but firm teasing and then “we’ll have to talk about that later.” (because Daken has to go kill a bunch of people.)

In Daken #3, Daken fakes his death. He texts Johnny “call me” right before Johnny stumbles upon the scene of the crime, knowing of course that when Johnny does try and call his phone, this will happen, and Johnny will think he was murdered:

So now Daken has another card in his hand: Reed feels like he owes Daken a debt. Johnny feels like he wasn’t there to help Daken when Daken needed him and is sick with guilt to the point where the others comment on it.

Friendly reminder that Johnny Storm doesn’t like himself very much at the best of times, which I’m sure a character who prides himself on reading others as much as Daken does must know. 

But of course Daken’s not actually dead, as he reveals to the Fantastic Four when he reappears in the Baxter Building and appear to rescue Franklin from an unknown attacker. (In reality, Daken orchestrated the attack in the first place.)

Johnny reacts emotionally, calling Daken a jerk for letting them think he was dead. Daken gives them a speech about only being able to trust the Fantastic Four, and wanting to change: “Eventually, when the time is right, I’ll come out as myself. Then, maybe, people will be able to accept me without the past hanging over my head.” Again, it’s a really good speech to hook Johnny, who often doesn’t fit with the celebrity persona he’s cultivated. And who likes men.

Next we see Daken and Johnny in Johnny’s bedroom, where Daken is changing into some of Johnny’s clothes. The sexual connotations are obvious here: Daken’s doing up his pants, while Johnny’s seated on his bed, legs spread. But also important to note is Johnny talking about when he thought Daken was dead, because we’re going to come back to that near the end of Daken’s series when Daken rather cruelly twists that sentiment around.

In Reed’s lab, meanwhile, Ben disapproves of Daken’s presence, calling him “a real bad apple” and citing that it’s strange that the attackers from earlier ran off before they could ID them. (Likely because there were no other attackers and Daken was using his speed and powers to create the illusion.) Reed and Johnny both brush off Ben’s concerns by teasing Ben over his discomfort with Daken hitting on him. Daken, meanwhile, obtains a weapon (albeit one Reed states won’t kill anyone) from Reed, so he won’t have to pop his claws and reveal his identity.

The next scene is upon the Baxter Building roof, while Daken is preparing to leave. Johnny’s notably changed clothes – before he was in his uniform, now he’s wearing casual clothes and he’s barefoot.

“He got what he came for” is a pretty obvious double entendre – the weapon from Reed, sure, but also sex with Johnny. This implies that the other members of the team know about the nature Johnny and Daken’s relationship, and that Ben disapproves. Johnny appears pretty sad about Daken leaving – the slumped shoulders, the barely there answers, the fact that he won’t look at Ben.

After a brief moment alone with Daken on the roof, Daken leaves and Johnny goes inside, and:

THIS IS A BREAK UP SCENE.

Reed, meanwhile, starts to believe they’ve been conned, while Daken reveals to the audience that he stole from Reed’s lab. So I think ultimately, whether or not Daken was attracted to Johnny (and I think he genuinely was attracted to him: later, while in a coma, Daken dreams of Johnny, and in the dream Johnny tells Daken he’s very glad he’s here), this whole relationship was about the manipulation of Johnny to help further Daken’s goals and that he preyed upon Johnny’s yearning for love and affection and to be taken seriously in order to forge a stronger bond with the Fantastic Four. Once he gets what he needs, he drops Johnny and leaves.

Much later, at the end of Daken’s series, he returns to the Baxter Building with his healing factor fried. When Reed offers to try and help him, Daken angrily rebuffs him, and then turns on the charm:

The face of a man who sees his ex hitting on his brother-in-law. Johnny, recently returned from the dead himself, attempts to talk to Daken:

“Real people stay dead when they die, Johnny” is a cruel mirror of “When I thought you had died… I was so sorry.”

To rub salt in the wound, Daken later says this to Reed during his big last battle, right before he drugs Reed and throws him from the Baxter Building’s roof:

“So we take on partners, and when we get tired in life we take on a life partner. Their siblings being an unwanted complication.” There’s a non-zero chance Johnny heard that, considering he’s the one who swoops in to rescue Reed last second. (Daken also murders several people outside the Baxter Building; Johnny comments later that he still has their blood on his uniform.)

That’s the end of the road for their interactions so far, but yeah, I would classify the relationship as unhealthy and deeply manipulative at the least, which is something I’d really like to address in a longer fic at some point because it does interest me (look at this whole thing I wrote, obviously it interests me), especially from Johnny’s perspective on things. Also I maybe want him to find out retroactively that it was Daken who shot him with that arrow in this first place.