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tenthgrove · 3 years

Note

yess thank you for letting me ask you about the lore >:3c so I have to get my absolute favorites outta the way first— what kinda lore and thoughts do you have for sorbet or gelato ( <- before they get together and the earlier years of them getting together if you need a specific period ) I have to also ask are you ok if I go down the “line” and get your thoughts in other asks about the rest of the la squadra babes? Thank you sm 💖💖 I hope you’re having a wonderf day/evening

Ah! Now this is one of my absolute favourites! Apologies to anyone who has already heard me ramble about my Sorbet and Gelato backstory ad nauseam on multiple occasions, but this is really an area where I can't help myself. Besides, this is my opportunity to go more in depth where I haven't before:

(Note after writing this: It's stupidly long. I'm sorry I just can't help myself with these backstories. I couldn't decide what to leave out so I decided nothing.)

(Also please feel free to ask me more lore questions because I love doing this)

We'll begin with Sorbet, born in Naples in February 1967 if you follow the canon timeline (although by default I write in modern AU so move the dates 20 years later). His situation at birth was absolutely dire, the eldest child of an incredibly vulnerable woman and one of her clients as a sex worker. Sorbet's mother was by all means a decent woman but her severe mental illness and drug addiction made it impossible for her to be a good mother, which of course had a bad effect on Sorbet growing up. After Sorbet, she had 5 more children, all through clients, and Sorbet was saddled with much of their care.

Though he loved his siblings, Sorbet was pretty much done with this life by age 12 and was easily swept up by older boys from the local street gang, who paid him well to peddle drugs when he should have been in school. This was a very underfunded neighbourhood so nobody questioned his truancy, and within the next couple of years he had stopped going to school entirely. Shortly after this, having acquired sufficient money through his crime involvement, Sorbet left his family to stay with his new friends, moving between them on a regular basis. He also discovered his sexuality around this time and dated a few male friends, though none of these relationships got very far.

By age 16, Sorbet had earned a reputation in the street gang for skilled and passionate violence, and was selected by the ringleader to commit the group's first planned murder, in exchange of course for a lucrative reward. Sorbet accepted, succeeded, and became the group's de-facto assassin whenever needed. He continued to hoard considerable money for the remainder of his adolescence, though continued to be functionally homeless since he didn't see it necessary when sofa-surfing was suiting him fine.

Before resuming with Sorbet, let's explain the life that Gelato came from. Gelato was born in October 1967 in St. Petersburg, Russia, (Note- I previously used the city of Minsk, unaware that this is in fact, in Belarus) to an upper-middle class businessman and his Italian wife, a distant relative of French Monarchy. Gelato's relationship with his parents was rocky from the start due to the fact they would have preferred a girl after three successive sons, but any parental love they had for their youngest child broke down entirely after he was diagnosed with both Autism and ADHD at age 5, in an evaluation intending to find the cause of some behavioural issues that were really, just a response to emotional neglect.

When Gelato was 13 he, his parents, and two of his three brothers (the eldest was already an adult by this time and elected to stay behind) moved to Italy to escape some allegations of corruption in the father's business. They moved to a rural village in North-West Italy where the community was very middle-class and quite stifling for Gelato, who had enough social rules to remember in the familiar, economically-diverse city he grew up in. His behavioural issues got worse and began to include things he would later regret, such as attacking and stealing from younger children, and things he would absolutely not, like attacking and stealing from teachers. By this point the family had largely written him off as a failure, revering instead their academically successful, well-behaved older children, which absolutely contributed to the spiralling cycle of behaviour issues Gelato faced.

Then, at age 17, Gelato failed a crucial exam and was expelled from high-school. His parents kicked him out on the spot, and with no other family in Italy Gelato had very few options on what to do next. He recalled, however, one older friend having links to a street gang in Naples, and decided to see if this boy might have a route out of destitution for him. Indeed, the friend did know of a man in Naples needing assistance within the gang, but could offer no help in getting Gelato there. Seeing no other way, Gelato walked the whole journey.

Arriving in Naples, the friend's associate announced that the position Gelato was after had been taken, but taking pity on his distress, informed him of another friend who needed someone to look after an unlicensed bar that served as one of the group's main meeting points. He agreed to arrange for the small apartment above the bar to be given as payment.

Gelato accepted, but although he had now solved the problem of homelessness his life was still incredibly miserable. For one, with his pay being the apartment he had to rely on measly tips to get by, which rarely left him with enough to eat let alone anything else. Additionally, as an outsider with little understanding of the way gangs work Gelato was an easy target for abuse, and was treated like absolute shit by the bar's patrons.

By this point in time, Sorbet had just turned 18. He was, incidentally, in the same gang Gelato had joined, and a regular at the bar he worked in. For a good couple of months they took no notice of each other, until Sorbet came to be in a coincidental feud with one of the men who was violent to Gelato at the bar. When Gelato witnessed the two of them in a fight, he made the spur-of-the-moment decision to join in on Sorbet's side, knocking the patron unconscious and leaving him too afraid to visit again. For his trouble, Sorbet gave Gelato a portion of the money he looted from the fight's loser, and flirted with him lightly before going about with his evening. Unknown to Sorbet, he had just sent Gelato falling head over hills in love.

Gelato found out about Sorbet's sexuality from other patrons and, delighted, attempted to flirt with him the next time they saw each other, but his attempts came off very poorly and Sorbet actually thought he was being insulted. Angered, he dragged Gelato into the cellar to demand what was going on. Gelato, terrified, admitted having a crush, which Sorbet found to be the sweetest and most genuine thing he'd ever heard. While he couldn't promise a relationship, he did agree to show Gelato more attention in the future. But, it was only a matter of days until Sorbet found himself loving Gelato back.

This whirlwind relationship continued happily for three weeks, Sorbet greatly improving Gelato's situation through his saved money and helping him fend off the abusive patrons. Gelato, in turn, offered Sorbet a permanent place to stay in the apartment, which he accepted. Sorbet was in the process of moving his things, and they had plans to refurbish the place to make it actually habitable.

But then, everything came crashing down. One night the bar was subject to a surprise raid by the police, operating by the false assumption it was empty. Sorbet and Gelato attempted to flee but were caught, and in a panic, Gelato shot a policeman dead. Rushing to his defence Sorbet killed two more, but a fourth escaped to tell the tale. The couple knew they were screwed. Running to the headquarters of their gang they begged for protection but were informed the small group simply could not save them from a charge this serious, and gave them only a single night of shelter to plan their next move. Gelato, who remember had never committed anything more serious than minor ABH before, had an absolute breakdown over this predicament that night, and whilst comforting him, Sorbet devised a blood pact with him to stick together no matter what came.

Over the next few days, Sorbet and Gelato fled north, avoiding the police through Sorbet's skills as a criminal and Gelato's very convincing Russian tourist impression. They were almost at the French border when Sorbet awoke one night to find Gelato missing behind him. He chased his tracks to the driveway of a rural house, a tearful Gelato clutching a knife at the shut door and trembling. He informed Sorbet that he had intentionally led him to the village where his family lived, with the intention to break in and kill them as revenge for the years of abuse. Sorbet warned Gelato that this would not be good for their attempts to flee, but said he understood fully and would help him if this is truly what he wanted. Gelato agreed, and together they broke into the house and slaughtered Gelato's mother and father, additionally killing one of his brothers after he woke from the noise. The other brother, the youngest other than Gelato, was spared, as Gelato felt his role in the abuse had been comparatively more minor and he did not deserve to die. This of course, left another witness.

The massacre in the village was quickly linked to the one at the bar and Gelato was promptly identified from a comparison of DNA found at the scene to his surviving brother's. Sorbet, a known criminal, was identified soon after. Not only were the pair now known but the police figured out what their plan was and informed the French police as well, making things exponentially harder for the couple.

They made do for a while by hanging low and keeping on the move, living off money stolen from the parents' house. Eventually however, they needed more, and began making deals with local crime organisations to carry out assassinations in exchange for money or temporary shelter. While Sorbet was already a pro at this, Gelato found himself a fast learner, and soon realised he shared Sorbet's adoration for the act of killing. He felt as though he was finally coming to meet his true self.

Though the assassination deals were lucrative, they did not help the couple keep a low profile and the attacks from police were relentless. Several times, they barely escaped capture. All this was not good on their mental states, and after two years, Sorbet knew it needed to end. He and Gelato returned to Naples in the hope their old gang might reconsider protecting them, but they were met with a surprise as their old gang had been completely overtaken by Passione. Even still, the new mobsters had heard a lot about Sorbet and Gelato's exploits and agreed to get them an audience with a local Capo, Pericolo, who was impressed by the men's skills and moved by the sense of honour suggested by their love for each other. He agreed to initiate them into the gang.

Soon after this, Sorbet and Gelato recieved stands which, although not very powerful, assisted them greatly in the art of assassination. Soon, they were natural choices for Passione whenever a hit needed carrying out in the Naples area. At some point a few years in, they befriended a man named Prosciutto who had been recently forced into Passione due to his heritage. Prosciutto was also funnelled into assassination jobs and, with less of a reputation for impulsivity than Sorbet and Gelato, was the one given the order to form a new assassination squad when the need arose, around 1993 if we're following canon.

(Note, I hc La Squadra was created by Passione in response to a real life government crackdown on the Italian mafia around 1992-93, in response to an incredibly scandalous series of assassinations. In such a climate, it would make sense for Passione to want to consolidate an elite squad of its best hitmen, do avoid future problems.)

Due to personal commitments Prosciutto did not want to be the captain, so attempted to give this responsibility to Sorbet, a request the boss promptly denied. Prosciutto was, however, allowed to add Sorbet and Gelato to the team's ranks, cementing the three of them as the first members of the team.

Prosciutto would, soon enough, find another person to give the title of captain to, but that's a story for another time.

#small asks #haha small #btw if you've already read my backstory for them this doesn't really add much except add a few new bits of trivia #la squadra #la squadra x reader

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Modern AU: "Lilies"

Severus knows Lily is dead before James comes by to tell him. How, you ask?

Well, because she shows up in his kitchen on Sunday morning, translucent, to yell at him about his life choices.

Severus is living in a rundown old white house that he used to share with his wife Lily. She left him for James, a musician travelling with the other half of his duo act, Sirius. Last Severus heard, the two of them are world famous and Lily and James have had a son named Harry.

As it happened, five years ago James and Sirius had come to town for Sirius to reconnect with his little brother, Regulus. As they had a falling out and a difference of opinion regarding their parentage, their relationship remained just as strained and cold as it had always been despite Sirius’ best efforts. While James spent most of the visit having a smoky and lazy affair with Regulus, he met Lily at the grocery store one day and it was love at first sight. She’d left Severus a month later, choosing to travel the world with James, and had had Harry within the year.

During this visit, Remus, who had been married to Tonks at the time with a child on the way, had fallen deeply in love with Sirius, but had broken Sirius’ heart when he chose to keep his marriage vows rather than run away with him. Sirius tried to keep in touch with Remus after he and James left, but Remus never replied, though Sirius never stopped sending letters. Remus’ wife died two weeks after their son Teddy’s premature birth from complications, and Teddy followed in the hours after. Overwhelmed with grief, Remus shut himself away, only going out for work and to drink. The night he got fired from his job as a teacher, he drank so much he got into an accident on his way home, and is now confined to a wheelchair. That, paired with his self-inflicted scars and depression, led to a suicide attempt that Severus saved him from. Now, Remus is still a recluse, though he now works as a librarian, volunteers at the orphanage, and takes the time to have tea with Severus every day.

Severus grows lilies in his garden in memory of his wife, and nearly dies of a heart attack when her ghost shows up in his kitchen one Sunday morning. She yells at him about throwing away his life for her when she was clearly never worth it and Severus yells back at her for leaving him. But while their new living arrangement is a bit stiff, they remember why they loved each other well enough, so they get on fine, though Lily still cries about missing James and Harry nearly every day.

James shows up in town about a week later with Sirus and Harry in tow, saying he came to deliver a letter Lily left Severus upon her death, since she’d been sick for a long time. Severus invites them in for tea, because he’s British and he’s polite, and Sirius spends most of the time staring at Remus’ house through the window and asking questions about him. James holds Harry on his lap while Lily’s ghost fusses over both of them, though neither of them can see or hear her. Severus still hates James for stealing his wife, but it’s faded into a dull ache by now, especially as seeing James is now a single father, though James does assure him that since Sirius is his partner, Harry will be far from alone.

Though originally only planning to stay long enough to deliver the letter, James decides to stick around for a bit for unspecified reasons. (It’s not because Sirius and Remus both just smiled stupidly at each other for five gay minutes when they were reunited. Of course not.) As he usually leaves Sirius with Remus for the two of them to catch up, James takes to leaving Harry with Severus when he becomes too overwhelmed with grief to take care of him. Severus grows fond of the boy, and often translates Lily’s stories for him since Harry can’t see his mother the same way Severus can.

James tries to patch up his relationship with Regulus, but Regulus is not hearing of it, feeling abandoned and hurt since James left him for Lily. This does however make him more perceptible to Sirius, who is delighted to have his little brother back in his life, though his strained and shy relationship with Remus is wearing on him. Regulus tells James and Sirius that he had a partner, Amir, who died in a home break-in and Regulus, who is trans, suffered a miscarriage of their daughter upon hearing the news. Severus and Remus take care of him, though their own unstable mental states make it difficult some days. Working at the library with Remus helps, he says, but still refuses to speak to James and is tolerating but far from welcoming of Sirius. Only at Severus’ advice that he would be a far happier person if he just allowed Sirius into his life does Regulus begin to open up towards both his brother and his brother’s partner.

James stays at Severus’ house per Lily’s request, and Harry grows quite attached to Severus. Remus begins to spend more and more time with Severus, growing increasingly anxious about his strenuous relationship with Sirius. Lily and Severus begin to slip back into a domestic relationship even though she’s a ghost, and Severus tells Remus about it, believing he’s going crazy. Remus shrugs and says he still hears Teddy crying sometimes.

As times passes, James and Severus slip into a limbo of sorts. As James has become increasingly close to Remus through Sirius, they spend more time together than ever before, and end up falling for each other in their shared grief. Still, despite their unofficial connection, Severus encourages Regulus’ feelings for James, believing them the better match and hoping Regulus can find some sort of happiness after all the shit he’s been through. Unfortunately, this all comes to a head when one day Sirius and Remus break up in an explosive fight, leading James to leave with Sirius and Harry in tow. Severus bids them a bitter goodbye and settles into taking care of Remus and Regulus, both of whom are now far more broken than they were before.

Remus tries to kill himself again. Severus is alerted to this by Lily, who has been doting on Remus since finding out about his and Sirius’ love for each other. Severus races Remus to the hospital, getting him there just in time. Regulus is beside himself, and Severus calls James using the hospital phone, saying he thought he and Sirius should know. James hangs up on him, but shows up in the waiting room with Sirius and Harry three hours later. Severus offers to drive James home, since only family can stay and no one is doubting that Sirius is Remus’ husband even if there are no papers to prove it, and by his rights, Regulus is allowed to stay as well. On the way back to Severus’ house they have a conversation about their feelings for each other, though Severus continues to insist that James choose Regulus instead of him. This evolves into a shouting match until their attention is so far from the road that a semi crashes into them, gravely injuring Severus and hurting James severely, though Harry remains unharmed save a few cuts and bruises. James breaks down over Severus’ body, trying desperately to call 9-1-1, but it’s no use. Severus passes away in Lily’s ghostly arms, James’ screams still echoing in his ears.

Severus wakes up in his house, surrounded by the things Lily destroyed in her anger at him and James over the past few months. Lily is pressing kisses all over his face and crying, explaining that he’s a ghost now too, and stuck with her forever. Severus comments that he doesn’t think that’s too bad, and Lily slaps him but laughs anyway, drawing him into a kiss. They stay wrapped up in each other until James shows up at the house with Harry, sobbing and sagging to the ground in the doorway as both Lily and Severus wrap themselves around him, whispering, “Oh, Jamie…”

Sirius is trying to take care of James and Harry, but he’s pretty much a wreck himself, having been sleeping with a record number of men since his and Remus’ break-up and drinking and smoking his problems away. He’s been writing in manic frenzies, mostly songs about unrequited love, and has spent the rest of his time enduring depressive slumps. Remus is released from the hospital and tries to help him, but is struggling to deal with the loss of Severus, even if he has Sirius back.

Regulus begins to shoulder much of the responsibility of James’ care. He watches over James while Sirius and Remus watch over each other, and comes to care for Harry like a son. Sirius loves him for it, and does his best to pitch in where he can. Though his trust issues and grief are incapacitating, Sirius starts to rebuild his relationship with Remus, this time on a solid foundation of trust and truth, though it takes time. He begins to understand, through their conversations about both of the times they fell in love, why Remus chose to stay with Tonks despite his heart belonging to Sirius, and comes to a new understanding of Lily’s choice of James, as she was already pregnant with Harry by the time she left Severus, and in the minds of parents, children come first. Severus is a bit heartbroken to learn that Lily had cheated on him, but is too tired to truly be angry, and tells Lily it’s in the past now. She smiles at him and kisses his cheek.

James, meanwhile, is working himself into a downward spiral. He’s wondered for years whether Lily ever really loved him like he loved her or if she just chose him because of Harry, and he’s also felt terribly guilty for stealing her from Severus no matter how much he loved her. While he tried to treat Severus right, he knew it was a failed pipe dream from the beginning, as he could never truly keep his heart from Regulus’ delicate hands. Severus and Lily both try to speak with him, but in vain, as he cannot see them.

The ghosts try to take care of Harry, though he can’t see them either. As it comes to be, Sirius and Remus rebuild themselves and each other enough to give Harry and James a stable home. Their partnership with James gives him the strength to keep going, and he begins to make things right with Regulus, who seems happier these days despite all his sadness. As the years pass, Severus and Lily watch their family grow. Sirius and Remus marry, adopting four children from the orphanage where Remus volunteers: Luna, Hermione, Newt, and Draco. They and Harry make friends with the Wealsey children from down the street, and James marries Regulus in a quiet ceremony shortly after tying himself to Sirius and Remus permanently. Lily’s body is moved to their town and buried beside Severus, and the two ghosts settle down in their graves, willingly passing on.

And in case you were wondering… (which I know you’re not)

Remus makes Sirius quit smoking. He and James give up their famous lifestyle for their spouses and children, settling in the town where this all began. Sirius and Regulus build a strong relationship that does not fray or break any longer. Sirius is Harry’s second favorite person after James, and Harry makes Remus take him to visit Severus and Lily’s graves at least three times every year. Sirius loves Remus a lot, but that’s okay, because Remus loves Sirius a lot too.

Sirius is James’ favorite person and he loves him so fucking much - Remus too. He misses Severus and Lily every day, but he’s got their son and the flowers to remember them by. He thinks maybe he could have a Happily Ever After here, maybe. If the world stands still long enough.

Meanwhile, Peter has lived in a homeless shelter since he got dumped by his ex-wife Mary, who is a kindergarten teacher now dating Dorcas the karate teacher and Marlene the bartender. He meets Max and their son Seamus there and falls in love with Max immediately, eventually building a home with them on a generous gift from Sirius that allows him to start up his own bakery. Though Remus offers to put him up every time he visits, Peter always refuses, though he bakes him plenty of thank you muffins once he’s out. James comes to Peter for advice about all of his relationships, and Peter indulges him every time, though really he just wants to bake cookies and sleep. Peter is the happiest person in this story how is that possible

Mcgonogall is the head librarian who listens to hard rock and has her wards (Sirius, Remus, and James) over for tea when she needs to give any of them a swift kick in the rump for their stupid life decisions. Dumbledore and Grindelwald are a married couple who grow petunias in their garden and live next to Mcgonogall, since she and Dumbledore are partners. Grindelwald glares at everyone and everything and Dumbledore hums Beatles songs under his breath off-key and brings an open umbrella on his walks on sunny days, so yeah. The Weasleys are the nutcases who run the orphanage and the homeless shelter, Peggy Schuyler is Newt’s best friend and a schoolmate of the children’s, and life is alright.

Yeah I don’t know what this is either.

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on, Invader Zim Quarterly: Holiday Special

WEEEE WISH YOU A MERRY JINGLY WE WISH YOU A MERRY JINGLY!

Ahhhhh It’s out! I’m so excited!

But I always get excited when it has my man Membrane and my man Eric Trueheart involved with the comics.

Also santa.. Tbh, I was excited and nervous about this quarterly.

Excited because it has Membrane santa backstory...

But I was nervous because that it means they might bring back the santa-blob monster from the Holiday special on the TV... and The Christmas special is one of my least favorite IZ episodes... I mean... I rewatch it occasionally, and it’s fun, but I’m just kinda used to IZ having more BITE in it’s satire if you know what I mean? The Christmas Special in the IZ universe doesn’t really say anything about the capitalism of Christmas... it’s not like IZ hasn’t made fun of capitalism before. (that’s the whole show) The Christmas Special in the show just kinda fell flat of my expectations of what an Invader Zim episode should be....

The only thing I respect the Holiday Special for, is that it goes down the “Santa isn’t real” route in a kid’s show and sticks to it. (there’s no “real santa” that shows up and “solves everything”) All of the “Santa’s Helpers” confused the Santa mythos with the Christianity Jesus mythos. (”waiting one day for his return”) Which makes sense, since IZ is like dystopian future Suburbia Hell. I just kinda like that there’s no “real santa” that interfered to “fix everything” and that Zim himself ended up CREATING Santa when he didn’t exist previously. Like I find that kinda cool...

Other then that, I just kinda wanted something else from the Hoilday special then what I got. (It taking priority over scrapped episodes like “the trail” and “Ten minutes to doom” and “mopiness of doom” does not help it’s case in being one of my C-tier episodes...)

So maybe this quarterly will fill the void of what I wanted out of a Holiday special? Well, let’s see.

SPOILERS FOR THE QUARTERLY BELOW THE CUT

Ways to get Dana off-board immediately: Monster Santa is canon.

I always never liked to view the special as canon for ways that it fell flat before.

And I had the excuse of saying that the snowman was an unreliable narrator and I could adapt it down the line in my fic as a different story.

I just didn’t like the idea of Monster-horror-blob santa... Like... Cool design... but he just kinda represents everything I disliked about the special... (including the major inconsistency of when Tak’s ship got fixed...)

But then again.. I need to remember IZ’s lore isn’t as consistent as I think it is sometimes...

Okay, fine. Monster blob santa real... what else you got for me, Holiday special?

FACE HUGGER SANTA! FACE HUGGER SANTA! I AM NOT INTO IT!

WHAT?! WHAT?! WHAT?! NO. DANA HATES THIS!

Okay, kinda into it because this means that ZIM CREATED SANTA in this mythos... I am dying.... wait.. this takes place in the future then...soo...?

haoFhaGHAOhfgg

It was all a dream?!

GOOD.

my heart couldn’t take it if horror-santa was real...

Also... that nightcap and bed... Does this mean we’re going to have an Invader Zim Christmas Carol?!?!?! I know that’s been adapted a schmillion times but I would be so into that....

Also... Flying... hamm...

Good ol’ Zim... Repressing those memories...

Also this being the THIRD ETF reference in a quarterly, It can be very safe to say the Quarterly issues take place after the events of ETF.

Clembrane exists in the Quarterly, Membrane has robot arms, Zim remembers this (kinda) Yeah this is definately ETF verse and it’s here to stay.

Christmas Carol?! I’m down for this... and I can’t help but notice their claws look familiar

OH HOLY HELL I WAS RIGHT! THESE GUYS! I LOVE THESE GUYS?!

Why are you here tho?

I’m a bit lost on why these guys wanta take over the earth, but they’re hilarious so I’m just glad they’re here.

Also... The Christmas Special is Schrodinger's Christmas... did it happen, or was it a dream, or the tales of a lunatic snowman... I guess I’ll never know.

The issue goes on for an IZ Christmas Carol parody (heck yea) and the visions are all hilarious and I’m not gonna spoil them here... but...

Eric.... this is terrifying..........thanks I hate it.

TINY DIB THOUGH! GHAOGHAHGAHAHA

THIS IS GREAT

THE MORE DIB SUFFERS THE MORE I LOVE IT!

“Though I am Dib and sickly father”

I’m dying XDDDDD

Also... What the fuck is Zim’s reaction here...

I find it funny that Zim has put Dib into simulated realities before... (in the show and comics) and in the show, Dib is all powerful and in the comics, Dib is just himself and Zim is his brother..

But seeing a simulated Dib all weak and pathetic and chronically ill BOTHERS ZIM?!?!

That’s... well that’s interesting.

Thought he’d laugh at this honestly, but he seems greatly annoyed...

I CHANGED MY MIND! THIS IS THE BEST THING!

(those who know me know why I’m dying over this)

YES!!!

ZIM DOESN’T LIKE WHEN PEOPLE FEEL BAD FOR HIM OR PITY HIM!

(which confirms like a lot of my hcs and adds spicy kindling to my au much mad respect)

This I find interesting... Zim complepative over his lonely/abandoned grave. It’s like he really doesn’t know how to feel. It’s more of a numbness then a sadness. Or he noticed how empty his life is...

He feels lonely and empty about it... which tracks considering how Zim’s greatest fear in the Trial was to be deleted and never be remembered by anyone.

I don’t know... This panel makes me feel things...

Johnen: Haha. Zim’s not that deep a character.

Eric: Hey for the Christmas special, let’s have Zim parody a Christmas carol and feel lonely staring at his own empty grave when he realizes no one cares about him or misses him.

Johnen: Cool. Do it.

What are you two assholes doing to me, man?! I have feelings!

AND ONCE AGAIN!

Zim hates pity and people feeling bad and sorry for him.

Man this makes me so sad... And it really feels like this issue looked into my brain again, cause I have some plans relating to Zim not wanting sympathy or pity from anyone later down the line (okay I’ll shut up about my au. We’re talking Zim here)

And of course, Zim breaks everything like he usually does. (this time on purpose)

Also nice callback that Zim remembered that Dib said he liked his boots one time in the Poop-wizard issue.

Also, it ends? I guess this quarterly has a few shorter stories this time... which I’m fine with.

Also, Zim should consider Green and Blue like D-list friends at this point and just invite them in for some fundip or something (come on, Zim, it’s Christmas.....)

GASP!?!?!

LITTLE MEMBRANE!!!

AND GRANDPARENTS CONFIRMED!!!

Wait... so his Parents are scientists too? Is that why he always wanted to be a scientist?

But then wait.... If Membrane inherited Membrane Labs from his parents... Why is HIS FACE the brand of the Company?..... There’s so much Membrane-face brand merch in the show. (it decorates his home..)

Like even if they were dead, if his parents founded Membrane labs, I feel they’d still be the face. of the company... (that’s how a lot of corporate faces are these days... they show some old dead guy who made the company as opposed to the son who inherited the Company.... Like everyone knows who Walt Disney/Mickey Mouse is, but unless you pay close attention to that kinda thing, not everyone knows who the current chairman or CEO is in the modern age....)

I just find that a bit odd.

Anyways... I feel people can still do what they want with Membrane’s parents and get away with it. I’m not changing my “his parents were farmers” headcanon. Sorry comic..

BUT I LOVE THEIR DESIGNS.

I love how Membrane looks a lot like his mother, and his father is just BUFF GAZ with a pipe.... Truely legends.

GASP!!!

COLLEGEBRANE COLLEGEBRANE COLLEGEBRANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOOKOUT DIB, THIS IS YOUR FUTURE!

I FUCKING LOVE HOW OILY HE LOOKS.. AND IT ADDS UP CAUSE...

The Membrane Men when they don’t shower or bathe in months.....

Someone help these two.

(thank god Membrane got better at personal hygiene.)

Also Teenbrane STILL has his human arms and not his robo-arms.

This means he loses his arms later in life... YUSH HORRAY FOR HEADCANNONS BEING VALIDATED!

He didn’t lose his arms in a shark accident when he was a KID! It happened WAY LATER!

NICE!

OH MY GOD HE IS BABY!

HE IS SO SHY AND ACKWARD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

I LOVE HIM!

He is just... all sweat and hiding his work but also very passionate and spiteful.

Like you can see who he grew up to become, and you can also see how a kid like Dib came out of a man like him...

But I love social anxiety awkward early twenties/late teens Membrane... He is a baby!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

MEMBRANE ;w;

Basically, Membrane knows that Santa isn’t real, but he doesn’t want to be mad at his parents so he harbors a grudge on Santa instead... THAT’S SO SWEET I’M CRYING TTmTT

LIKE THAT IS SO SWEET AND I’M CRYING!

(also I love how me and Ceph understand Membrane’s character too well that the gesture he does in the 2nd panel here are reminisant of our fic so many times... Like we have his mannerisms down and I love when the mask slips from Membrane and we get to see a real person... augh soo good)

WHO GAVE THEM THE RIGHT TO MAKE MY MAN THIS SAD?! ONLY I CAN MAKE HIM SAD!

MEMBRANE TTMTT

AUUUGHH

Also probably guessing the parents are dead... I’m just laughing at their designs...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Yes you are, Professor Membrane... Don’t let anyone tell you different. (actually, please do) Well, I mean, At least you’re trying and get progressively better.

(also... this probably means everytime Dib has asked his Dad for a dangerous weapon to fight Zim with, Membrane just gives it to him no questions asked and I’m doing a MAJOR concern about this man’s parenting skills... get help please good sir!)

Also, Dib really saved the day again here (like he did in Dib’s big day)

Dib called about destroying santa when Membrane was in one of his lowest points... He hides it really well... Especially from his children..

Ah.. I loved that one.

But I’m a huge Membrane Simp though.

I did find the stuff about Membrane’s parents a little weird... like I said regarding how Membrane’s face is the brand of Membrane labs...

Could be true that they were other scientists and that Membrane founded Membrane labs later... but that seems highly unlikely...

Also... Why does the house look that hug when in the christmas special, it looked kinda like...well... just not that, and kinda more humble from the interior and not some big rocket lab...

So yeah... AMAZING character building for Membrane (which I eat up)

Hilarious Grandparent Designs. But I still prefer @esthyradler ‘s Grandparents. The superior Grandparents.

Anyways... The Quarterly was GREAT!

I kinda find it funny the Zim story is the weaker one of the two again... But I honestly blame the Christmas Horror blob connection and the Christmas Carol parody.

Or maybe my Membrane Bias is clouding my mind here. I do have Zim bias but sometimes Zim can frustrate me. There’s just so many times Zim can do and say the same things you know? Zim is my baby, but sometimes his denial and annoyance with everyone can be very predictable at points. Zim was just way more fun in the last quarterly than this one.

With Membrane it’s more of a blank slate what to do with him cause he ony started really mattering as a character since ETF. Yes, I do love show Membrane, but I admit he wasn’t exactly a character then. More of a presence and excuse for why Dib had access to lab equipment. With Dib’s Dilemma and this Hoilday special, the Quarterly folks seem determined to turn him into a fully realized character with the rest of the cast and I’m extremely excited to hear that!

(Computer issue/backstory WHEN?!)

I don’t really have ratings or systems for these but hope you liked my thoughts.

Merry Christmas everyone.

#Invader Zim #invader zim quarterly #IZ comics #IZ comics Spoilers #danachan's rants #Professor Membrane

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yummycastiel · 3 years

Text

Trouble.

Yeah sooo here’s some Modern!AU Hvitserk and Vikings fanfiction. Mostly writing it for myself but I hope others enjoy it too!

CHAPTER ONE

Rowan

‘’I don’t know why you are stressing, Rowan, my family is going to adore you, I promise’’ reassured Ivar who was limping towards the restaurant. Rowan, his best friend, was struggling to keep up with Ivar’s surprisingly fast gait.

‘’I just don’t want them to think that I’m getting special treatment because I’m your friend.’’ Rowan griped as she followed, ‘’ Although, I am forever thankful that your father has given me this opportunity.’’ Rowan had known Ivar for about three years now, and they had met freshman year of university. As Rowan was a newcomer to Norway for school, Ivar had helped her to find her way around, to adjust, and even taught her some Norwegian. They were so close it was as if they had known each other since they were children. The one thing that Rowan was not aware of until recently, however, was how rich and well-known his father was. ‘’I still can’t believe my best friend is a rich boy though’’ Rowan laughed, teasingly shoving her friend. Ivar rolled his eyes.

‘’Yes, yes, yes, my father is a very famous man, blah blah blah. All that matters is that he can help you, right?’’ Responded Ivar, giving Rowan a knowing glance.

‘’Yes, of course, and I appreciate it very much.’’ Rowan said. She swung open the door to the restaurant and let Ivar in first. A feeling of nervousness welled up in her belly. Ivar had told her he had many brothers, but had not told her much about them, just their names. Come to think of it, Ivar didn’t speak about his family very much, all he mentioned was that they had their ‘’issues’’. She could only imagine what that meant. Rowan and Ivar had just come back from school for the summer, and Rowan had decided to stay in Norway to search for an internship in her field of veterinary medicine. Ivar, being the generous man that he was, offered that she move in temporarily with him in his hometown while she found a place to stay. What Rowan was not expecting however, was that Ivar’s father was offering her a job at his estate. The perks of being a friend of a rich person truly caught Rowan off guard.

‘’All right, so you’re the youngest, yes?’’ Rowan confirmed as Ivar weaved his way through the bustling floor of the restaurant.

‘’Yes, I’m the youngest, Bjorn is the oldest, but you know he had a different mother and…’’ he trailed off as he arrived at a table full of men. Go figure. Rowan gulped. She didn’t consider herself to be a shy or awkward person, but she was feeling exactly like that at this moment.

‘’Ivar!’’ Came a booming voice, and Rowan watched a tall, bearded man get up from the table and engulf Ivar in a hug. He was bald, with tattoos covering parts of his head, and his beard was unkempt, but for some reason it didn’t make him look homeless. He was certainly a handsome man. Rowan was captivated by his blue eyes that seemed to shine in the dim light of the restaurant. This had to be Ivar’s father, Ragnar Lothbrok. He had a somber face, but he was smiling as he spoke softly to his son. ‘’This must be Rowan!’’ He said, turning to face her. Rowan smiled at Ragnar and took his hand.

‘’So nice to meet you Mr. Lothbrok.’’ Rowan said and the man smiled.

‘’Please, just call me Ragnar.’’ Returned Ivar’s father, ‘’I have heard a lot about you! I’m excited to have you working at my estate, we have many animals to be looked after at the ranch.’’ Rowan grinned, feeling a bit more confident now seeing how friendly Ragnar was.

‘’I want to thank you so much, Ragnar, for giving me this opportunity, and thank you for having me here with your family.’’ Rowan said, applauding herself inwardly for not sounding so damn awkward.

‘’It’s nothing, it’s nothing,’’ Ragnar replied, putting another hand over hers in a warm manner, ‘’A friend of Ivar’s is a friend of ours. Now, why don’t you meet the rest of my sons?’’ He gestured to the rest of the table and Rowan’s feelings of nervousness returned. ‘’That is my oldest, Bjorn, and his wife Gunnhild.’’ Bjorn was at the furthest end of the table, but even sitting down Rowan could tell how tall he was. He had blonde hair that was shaved on the sides and finished in a long braid, a Viking-like fashion that Rowan knew from Ivar. His beard was similar to Ragnar’s and he too had bright blue eyes. He greeted her kindly, and his wife, Gunnhild did too. She was beautiful and tall, with long brown, braided hair and a stern face. She greeted Rowan warmly as well.

‘’This is Ubbe, the second oldest.’’ Ragnar then said, pointing to another tall man. Ubbe was handsome as well, with dirty blonde hair in the same fashion as Bjorn, and his eyes seemed almost as piercing blue as Ragnar and Ivar.

‘’Nice to meet you!’’ Rowan said, giving a little wave.

‘’Very nice to meet you, Rowan.’’ Ubbe returned, reaching over to shake her hand and smile. Torvi smiled as well.

‘’And here we have Hvitserk.’’ Ragnar finished. Rowan turned to the last son to be introduced. She almost wanted to sigh as she realized how good-looking this entire family seemed to be. Hvitserk, like Ivar, did not sport a beard, but had light brown hair that was also shaved at the sides and pulled back into a bun. He had light facial hair and a shadow of a moustache. Rowan noted that he had green eyes, unlike the rest of his brothers. Shit. He was cute. He was handsome, but in a different way in comparison to Ragnar. Hvitserk had a sharp jaw, almost feminine in looks, but his eyebrows were heavy and gave him a dark complexion. He gave her a small smile as he shook her hand. When their hands touched, Rowan felt her heart jump. Stupid.

‘’Nice to meet you.’’ Hvitserk said. His voice was deep, soft, and Rowan wanted to hear him talk more. She wanted him to say her name. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her head.

‘’You as well.’’ Was all she said, and she took a seat across from him next to Ivar. Ragnar sat down at the head of the table as well, like any good head of the family would do. Rowan looked around and noticed that there were only four sons of Ragnar. The fifth was...oh yes. Rowan remembered. Ivar had told her that the second-youngest Ragnarsson, Sigurd, had passed away when they were in high school. Rowan was glad she hadn’t asked, especially since Ivar never spoke of it and seemed like he never wanted to. Settling into her seat, she was very aware of Hvitserk sitting in front of her, whether he was looking at her or not, Rowan felt like he was.

‘’Let us eat!’’ Called Ragnar at the head of the table while raising his glass, ‘’Sköl!’’ Everyone raised their glasses and called out in unison like Ragnar, and Rowan scrambled to get her glass and raise it, repeating the word as well. She heard a light chuckle in front of her and looked to Hvitserk who had noticed her embarrassing attempt to catch up. She felt her cheeks go red as she set down her glass. God, she was pathetic. She hoped Ivar hadn’t noticed.

‘’So which of my brothers are you in love with hm?’’ Ivar said lowly in her ear as if he had read her thoughts. He tended to do that, it was as if he actually did read her thoughts. Rowan’s eyes widened.

‘’None of them oh my god Ivar!’’ She cried out softly, ‘’Why, why would you think that, I literally just met them!’’ Ivar gave her a smirk as he began to dig into his food that had been placed in front of him.

‘’Listen, you should be aware of the womanizing ways of the Ragnarssons okay? They all have girls falling all over them,’’ He explained in a condescending way, ‘’Well, except for me of course.’’ He smiled and Rowan rolled her eyes. She supposed it made sense. The entire family was indeed very good looking, and she could only imagine the line of girls that these boys had behind them.

‘’Ivar, you and I both know you got girls running after you too.’’ She mused, giving him a little nudge, ‘’I’ve got first hand experience when it comes to your ways.’’ Ivar laughed and shook his head. When they first met Ivar had tried to sleep with her. Plain and simple just approached her and began to flirt shamelessly, and Rowan was tempted. Ivar was after all, a very good looking man. His big blue eyes that ran deep like the ocean, his sharp jaw and long brown hair that he wore in a braided fashion. It was very flattering, but Rowan wasn’t interested. She wasn’t available.

The dinner went on, and Rowan was starting to feel more comfortable, but she still depended on Ivar for conversation so she wouldn’t feel awkward. She felt eyes on her the entire time however, and she did everything she could to not look in Hvitserk’s direction. She felt badly, she didn’t want to seem rude, but looking at his face made her feel nervous. She definitely thought he was the best looking son of Ragnar, there was something about him that made her cheeks red but she desperately pushed that feeling to the back of her head. She tended to do this with men that she was interested in; run away, avoid them, and so on. Didn’t really do the trick. She also had to convince herself she wasn’t interested in Hvitserk, but she felt a tug towards him, like he was doing it on purpose. Rowan forced herself to forget about it, this happened, just a small crush on a cute guy, not a rare thing to happen to her.

Towards the end of the night, when dinner had been finished and conversations had been had, the group had gotten up to say their farewells. Ragnar gave Rowan a warm hug, welcoming her to the family once again and told her he was looking forward to having her work for him. Rowan felt a swell of pride in her chest, as if her own father had told her he was proud of her and done a good job.

‘’I’ll wait for you outside Ivar.’’ Rowan said to her friend who was joking around with his brothers. He nodded at her and she waved goodbye. Once she arrived outside she breathed out in relief as she leaned against the cool brick wall of the restaurant.

‘’Bit overwhelming isn’t it?’’ Said a deep voice next to her. She jumped and turned to find Hvitserk leaning against the wall a bit aways from her. He was looking at her with a cool intensity, his arms crossed as he looked her up and down. Wow, subtle.

‘’Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t see you,’’ Rowan gasped, clutching at her coat she had in her hands, ‘’Uh, yeah I suppose, I can be a bit awkward in groups, especially if I’m not drunk.’’ Man, she tended to ramble when she was nervous. Hvitserk laughed and nodded.

‘’ Oh I get you there, trust me.’’ He said, still not looking away from her, ‘’So you’re not from here huh?’’ Rowan shook her head.

‘’I’m Canadian, but I came here for school.’’

‘’What made you choose Norway?’’ Questioned the son of Ragnar.

‘’It’s a beautiful place, I was drawn to the history behind it,’’ Replied Rowan, ‘’My father lived here as well at some point, he said nothing but good things about Norway.’’ Hvitserk smiled as he met her gaze.

‘’I heard some of your Norwegian inside, it’s not bad.’’ Rowan laughed.

‘’Oh thank you, but I definitely need to work on it.’’ She said, wringing her hands which she tended to do when she was nervous.

‘’So you think you can get used to being around Ivar’s crazy family?’’ Hvitserk asked, raising an eyebrow in a light-hearted manner, yet his voice sounded serious.

‘’What family isn’t crazy, if you think about it,’’ Rowan replied, ‘’He’s lucky to have so many brothers, I would have loved to have siblings.’’ Hvitserk now laughed.

‘’Oh, it has its moments, but trust me, I know that sometimes having so many brothers can be difficult.’’ Rowan smiled. The conversation flowed naturally, but she still felt a feeling of unease around this brother. As they continued their conversation, he was moving closer to her. ‘’You know, Ivar never mentioned to me that he had a friend like you.’’ Rowan felt her heart leap into her throat as she looked up at him.

‘’What do you mean, a friend like me?’’ Rowan murmured. Hvitserk’s green eyes bore into hers and he gave her a smile that threatened to make her look away in nervousness. She hadn’t felt something like this since forever ago. When things were better and magical, like when you had a crush on someone when you were young and felt butterflies in your stomach. Stupid, stupid.

‘’Well, you know,’’ Hvitserk started, gesturing to all of her, ‘’So pretty.’’ Rowan felt her face heat up and she felt her eyes widen. She ducked from his eyes and struggled to keep her composure.

‘’Ivar warned me that his brothers were a bunch of flirts.’’ She said, laughing off the compliment. She wasn’t good at handling compliments. Hvitserk grinned devilishly.

‘’Well Ivar was right to warn you.’’ Was all the brother said. Their eyes met again and Rowan felt it beat faster. What the hell was going on right now? She really shouldn’t be flirting with Ivar’s brother. Thankfully in that moment, Ivar had joined them outside the restaurant.

‘’Hvitserk, get away from her you dog!’’ Ivar cried jokingly, ‘’Rowan I hope my brother wasn’t bothering you.’’ Rowan laughed and shook her head.

‘’Not at all Ivar,’’ She replied, turning to look back at Hvitserk who was still staring. ‘’He’s probably my favorite Ragnarsson now.’’ Hvitserk’s eyes widened in surprise, as if not expecting Rowan to return the flirtatious effort. Rowan couldn’t help it. The brother winked at her and Ivar groaned.

‘’Stop stop, this can never be, I was the first son of Ragnar you met and I’ll always be your favorite. I don’t want to compete with my brother about that.’’ He said, ‘’Alright, let’s go Rowan, I’m tired and want to sleep.’’ His dramatics as usual won her over and she nodded.

‘’I’ll see you around then Hvitserk, it was nice to meet you!’’ She said to him. He gave her another dazzling smile, green eyes lighting up and making her head spin.

‘’You’ll definitely see me around soon, don’t you worry.’’ He responded, giving them both a wave and turning away. Ivar and Rowan made their way back home, as it was not too long of a walk and did not want to trouble Bjorn who had offered to drive them home.

‘’What’s my brother doing sniffing around you, hm?’’ Questioned Ivar as they walked.

‘’He wasn’t sniffing around me Ivar, ‘’ Rowan said, ‘’We were just talking.’’ Ivar snorted as he moved his crutch forward and back.

‘’If I know my brother, and trust me, I do, he doesn’t just ‘talk’ to a pretty girl, okay?’’ He explained, ‘’All my brothers, including me, are hopeless when it comes to women. We can’t help ourselves. It may be harmless, Hvitserk does tend to have his way with women, so I wouldn’t worry about it.’’ Rowan gulped and didn’t respond. Of course Hvitserk had his admirers. She could only imagine the sighs of girls when he passed by them. ‘’You like Hvitserk Rowan?’’ Ivar asked suddenly, stopping to look at her. He seemed a bit concerned.

‘’What? I just met the man, how would I like him?’’ Rowan defended, ignoring the voice in her head that was fawning over Ivar’s brother, and his green eyes. Ivar did not seem entirely satisfied but he turned to keep going.

‘’Careful now Rowan,’’ mused Ivar, ‘’He’s just trouble.’’

#vikings #hvitserk #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #bjorn ragnarsson #ubbe #bjorn #ragnar lothbrok #fanfiction #vikings imagine #vikings fanfiction #imagines

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leonawriter · 4 years

Text

Dazai’s background, clues in canon, and my theory.

Y’know, there’s a couple of things that I think are very informative about Dazai’s character, when trying to get a canon read on him (and not an AU or “I prefer it this way” or “but it’s good for the fic” one).

One of these is that I do not believe that Dazai has ever wanted for anything in his life - in a material sense - prior to going underground and then having only an ADA detective’s salary... and no, I’m not one of the ones who believes he has money saved away (from the mafia, at least) that he can use at any time - if he needs to keep his record clean, then that means not using dirty or laundered money. Those two ideas also do not cancel each other out. If he has alternate funds, they’re personal.

The other one might end up being another post, but here goes-

To back up this first point, are several things throughout the series. I know that someone once pointed out that Dazai uses a high-end smartphone. He also is still able to keep two of them - his old mafia phone and his personal one.

I personally find it interesting how Dazai is *always* seen in a suit of some kind, especially in his younger years; it’s reminiscent of how young men in wealthy families are often characterised as not knowing how to dress down and be casual. Everything is formal. We see him in a suit at fourteen years old, and I think we can safely say that this isn’t just Mori saying that he has to dress that way, because Mori doesn’t seem to have any problem with assorted characters such as Q and Tachihara dressing in ways that are either strange, or much more in line with one being a punk teenager. Instead, Dazai is seen in a suit - and consistently - for four years. And even now, that’s still a suit, just a sloppily put together one.

Another aspect that informs us about Dazai’s origins is the way that he speaks.

At fifteen years old, when he isn’t talking to Chuuya (and that’s an important distinction to make, since Chuuya is one of the few, if not the only, person who makes Dazai act like a child) he tends to have a habit of speaking in measured tones and with a high vocabulary. He’s definitely still a child, but he knows how to talk to adults in a way that will get him listened to - specifically, adults in positions of power. Not just “power of him, as a child” but power. I think it’s important to remember also that the light novel of Fifteen makes note of how Mori and Dazai “colluded” - worked together on - the assassination of the previous Boss.

So this wasn’t just drilled into him by Mori. Mori just found what was already there and utilised it.

Also relevant from Fifteen is this one line here:

“Dazai is not Mori’s subordinate. He isn’t even in the mafia. And he certainly isn’t an illegitimate child, or an orphan he picked up, or a medical assistant.”

Emphasis mine.

The important thing here is that Dazai isn’t an orphan. In a series where everyone is even in the present still recovering from a massive war, the fact that he’s pointedly not an orphan despite being with Mori like this and no parents ever mentioned, is interesting.

Now, as far as I’m aware, one of the popular things to do is to have him, in AUs, be Mori’s heir, or Mori’s adoptive son in some other respect. The thing is - I don’t think he needs to be. He clearly had a family he was with before Mori. And yet, they aren’t present.

I do have a particular theory about perhaps not who they are in a specific sense, but certainly who they are in a general sense, where even if the details change the idea stays the same.

The idea, which is just my theorising, is this: Dazai was born to someone of influence. Possibly a high-up government official or nouveau-riche, or possibly an old family. Either way, they had money, and they had power. His parents weren’t close with him. He may have had older siblings (he may even have young siblings, by this point, not that he’d recognise them).

Dazai would have had notable issues regarding suicide well before he is first seen in the manga at fourteen; his family, however, effectively disowned him by leaving him with an underground doctor, assuming that he would not survive (remember: he had bandages over his head, as well as all of those other areas) or not caring if he did. Their family may have collectively decided that it would be easier to forget about him than to carry on with the shame of a child who would attempt suicide at such a young age.

Dazai would have had the education of a young rich boy, a “bocchan,” and not taught that there was right and wrong as a child. Only that there were people who had, and people who took, about money and power and how to talk to people at stuffy parties, maybe expected to marry one day and have children to carry on the family name, in case his potential older siblings weren’t able to.

I also believe that Dazai at least in part chose to cut ties with his family, and that on the off-chance that, like with Mori Ougai and Elise calling him “Rintarou,” he had a different name as well in the past, he chose to change his name, and would never willingly go back to his prior name.

As for where I’m getting a lot of this?

Real Life Dazai’s own family were new money. His father held a high position in the government, which was respected at the time. It’s heavily implied through his works that he didn’t know how to relate to his family, feeling pressured into liking and wanting things he didn’t feel interested in, and scared of disappointing them. He mainly saw a specific servant woman as his mother figure more than his actual mother, since his actual mother was barely in his life. They had money, and could afford to get him a very good education, and the only reason why he didn’t is due to two different reasons: one of those was how he was involved in communist activities, and the other is, in a more impactful way, his suicide attempt/s. His inheritance was also cut off until he vowed to improve himself - several times, even!

You can read up on this more by looking up his real life self’s wikipedia page, but all one really has to do to get from this to what I wrote out as my personal ideas for BSD Dazai, is to adjust for the fact that he would be living in a more modern time period as opposed to having been born in 1909, and an alternate world history, and the fact that BSD Dazai takes less time to reach such a low point as he is at fourteen.

Bearing in mind that BSD is prone to changing things, it’s also prone to not changing things as much when it’s not necessary, or making stealth references. Which is why I said that although the details may shift and change and not be accurate, the idea that Dazai came from a wealthy family where his mental health problems were simply left unaddressed (and possibly made worse) for long enough for him to get to such a state as he’s in at fourteen years old only for them to ignore his existence after leaving him with Mori and for him to choose never go get back in contact, seems fairly in keeping with things.

It’d also give extra weight to what he says to Atsushi in Portrait of a Father. That he “doesn’t have much advice to give, except for one general thing - when one’s father dies, they tend to cry.” Dazai himself would in this case have complicated feelings about his own family, and much like Atsushi, would have later gone on to find that “positive father figure” in someone else, even if the older male figure themself is barely that much older than him.

(I’d love to go deeper into this with the way this would affect him in his present situation, but for some reason I started this post when still very tired, so maybe when I have more energy.)

#bsd #bsd stuff #bsd Dazai

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

Text

Not The Right Time

The Story Of How Everything Went On:

Ivar+Reader (Modern! AU).

(Masterlist) (Previous Chapter)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

This chapter is mostly a filler, because I wasn’t emotionally and physically ready to write what comes next, hence I felt like I still had to give out some infos, mostly about Ivar’s family and Reader’s feelings.

I really hope that you’ll enjoy it, although it isn’t a proper fullfilling chapter!

As always: FEEDBACK IS VERY VERY USEFUL!

Us writers don’t write for you certainly, but we do pubblish stuff for you, hence a simple comment or a reblog with something written might CHANGE a person’s day.

You are never annoying and us writers treasure your comments (they might out heart beat and our fingers write faster).

SUMMARY: New revelations and new act of faiths might get you more confused about your newborn feelings for the father of your child.

WORDS: 9, 4 K

WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, Pregnancy at a Young Age, Mention of Abortion (and Being Harsh About it), Heartbreak and General Angst, Abandonement Issues and Being A Single Mom, Mention of Infertility, Talk about Custody Battles and Custody, Fighting and Angst, Use of The Word Cripple.

Ivar had never had much luck with women.

But he had been blessed with a beautiful mother.

Aslaug was someone who would cherish her sons to the end of the world, blessed with four of them.

But they had not been four normal boys, but four constantly fighting men who wouldn’t hesitate a moment to give her an heart attack.

And although many more times it was Hvitserk, the bearer of bad news, this time it had to be him.

And what he might have to tell was worse than Hvitserk that time he had decided to open a bakery with his father’s money.

So, he thought it would have been better to tell her that he had a child, when she was sat down.

“Mom” he called out to her, as she moved around the kitchen checking that dishes were in their proper places and made sure sure that not a single crumb of bread was left in her kitchen.

She had always been a bit of a clean freak, but it had grown worse once they had all moved out of the house, mostly because of the fact that sadly she hadn’t much to do, having been an housewife all her life, although lately she had started to care for her garden.

And her roses looked the absolute prettiest.

He had thought that Eric would have loved playing there.

He might have suggested maybe getting it fixed with a swing or a soccer field for his son and his nephews, he was sure that Ubbe would have backed him up on that, although he was sure that he would have certainly gawked at the mention that Ivar had a child.

A child that wasn’t Freydis’.

A child that was with you, his best friend and high school sweetheart.

Yeah, he was sure that Aslaug would have had a heart attack, upon hearing it.

She had already had one when he had announced his engagement to Freydis.

She had come to him, meanwhile all the others congratulated Freydis and although she hadn’t explicitly told him that she didn’t approve it, she had tried to question him about it.

‘Are you sure, sweetheart?’

‘Because you are both so young’.

‘… and you haven’t been with each other for such a long time’.

‘Mom, you ran away with dad just a few days after you had met him’ he had interrupted her, not fully understanding why his own mother among all the people wouldn’t support his happiness.

‘Yes, that I did’ her face had scrunched up in a grimace ‘… and I have regretted it for the entire time. I just… I just wouldn’t want you the same mistake I did’.

And now he had to tell her that he had a five-year-old child, with another woman.

Well, she certainly would have been surprised.

Once she was sure there weren’t anything outside of its rightful place, she sat down onto the table, inviting him to do the same, as she interlaced her fingers with his, excited to know what her youngest was up to.

They had always been quite attached to the other, and he couldn’t picture his small family without her.

Hence, he had to confess her two things.

“… you remember that I and Freydis have been trying to have a child, right?” he started, thinking that this would be far less a surprise than him admitting that he had put a baby in you.

Aslaug already looked like she knew exactly where this was going.

She had always been far smarter than she let on.

She was the one reason why Ragnar hadn’t died in his thirties.

And why all her sons had reached maturity.

This honestly gave her amazing powers.

And he trusted her judgement.

“Freydis is pregnant, the last lab sample worked”.

Although Aslaugh didn’t look amazingly happy, she still smiled softly, as she brought him in a soft hug, kissing his forehead and congratulating him, glad to have more grandchildren, which had quickly become the joy of her life.

She had already loved Ubbe-but-truly-they-were-Bjorn’s child, and she had been trying to convince her still-single sons to settle down and give her more grandchildren.

(‘I might have already’ had mumbled Hvitserk, with a small smirk, before Aslaug had slapped him on the head and gave him a lesson on condoms).

(Ivar might have needed it, too).

So, even if she didn’t like Freydis, she would have loved her grandchild.

“Is Freydis alright?” she asked, moving with a full-on questioning “… has she already gone to some visits? Do you know the gender?”.

“Mom, she’s barely a few months along!” he tried to calm her down, although he was happy that his mother was so so excited about it.

“Sorry sweetie, but you know when I was pregnant with Ubbe that it’d be a boy” she commented softly “… hasn’t she felt anything? Has she?”.

“… and that isn’t the only news I have for you”.

And now came the hard part.

And Aslaug immediately noticed his uneasiness, and her hands moved away from his, as they gently caressed his face to make him stare at her in the eyes, trying to search them to understand what was going on in his mind.

She had always been extremely good at understanding him before even him himself.

But he honestly was sure that she would have never guessed the other news.

She had seen your relationship with you coming, and she had encouraged him to follow his crush.

Still she had tried to keep herself away from meddling with it, pushing herself in a rather cold attitude with you that had made you many times question yourself.

‘Are you sure that your mother doesn’t hate me’ you had questioned him once, when you had come to his house to hang out.

‘No, she just doesn’t like people’ he had replied, as he had tried to get you to sit on his lap, to calm you down.

‘… now I know where you got that’ you had mumbled, as you had finally allowed him to wrap his arms softly around your waist ‘… but still… I really hope that she doesn’t think badly of me’.

‘You shouldn’t worry of anybody’s opinion…’ he had muttered, as he had lightly shifted your hair to the side to kiss your neck ‘… except mine’.

‘But… I’m worried, about her opinion… I don’t want you to…’.

‘Sweetheart calm down!’ he had mumbled, kissing softly your lips ‘… nobody will make me change my mind’.

Yeah, that hadn’t been exactly true.

And he hated himself for it.

You were right in hating him.

Although lately you had been rather cordial towards each other and he would have dared saying that you were almost friends.

In the end he appreciated that you were nice with him for Eric’s sake.

“… mom I hope… this is something that is new also to me, but… I have a child” Aslaug looked at him confused, almost as if she expected him to either joke or clarify himself “… you remember (Y/N), right?”.

“Such a sweetheart” her smile pushed their tips in a light smirk “… but what does she have to do with all of this?”.

“I have a child with her” all the color was suddenly drained by Aslaug’s face “… we had sex on prom night, and I got her pregnant… and she didn’t tell me about the child till a few weeks ago”.

“Ivar Axel Lothbrock!” she exclaimed loudly, as she jumped up from the chair, which fell off because of the suddenness “… I didn’t think that this would be happening with you!”.

“Mom, calm down” Ivar tried to keep her quiet, not wanting his brothers to know about it, till he had talked it out firstly with his mother “… don’t strain yourself”.

“I thought it might happen with Hvitserk, I mean that boy… is a pest, but… you?!”.

“I know that I disappointed you” this seemed to calm her down, as she turned to face Ivar, who had ducked his down, incased between his shoulder blades, as if it weighted onto them.

“I am… just… surprised” she mumbled “… for how long have you hidden this from me?”.

“Not long, a month max, but… to my defense, I also discovered it recently” Ivar explained, as he felt his mom calming down a bit, as if she realized this situation wouldn’t go away.

So, she’d better accepting it quickly.

“You know that I and (Y/N) didn’t leave each other on the best terms…” because as much as you might have been heartbroken by him, he had been ten times grumpier than usually at your refusal of being contacted by him, after the ‘break-up’.

Now that he had calmed down, he thought that you had just done the best thing you could have done to protect yourself.

You were still doing it, whenever you’d retract from him, once the conversation between you two got too personal.

“… she hid the pregnancy because she was sure that I didn’t want to be a father, and… she has then moved away”.

“Yeah yeah, I remember, I was honestly surprised that they’d be moving, but I guess she just needed a bit of time and to get away” mused Aslaug, almost as if she knew herself “… does the baby…?”:

“Yeah, he was born with osteogenesis” he explained, his mother’s face softening, as she lightly retreated from him, almost hurt by it, and he thought honestly the worst of everything.

“… poor boy” she mumbled “… and poor (Y/N), things like this aren’t easy, even more when you are a single mother”.

And Ivar understood that she spoke from experience.

And that was what was making her so emotional.

It was like going through it again.

“She is very strong and she has taken care of him amazingly” he explained softly, trying to calm his mother, as Aslaug moved again closer, her eyes slightly shiny “… he is five… we are trying to set up this thing to be able to give him both a father and a mother”.

“Do you have a picture?” Aslaug’s voice was choked, and Ivar hurried to get his phone out “… I really would like to see my grandchild”.

He didn’t want to break her heart correcting her that he wasn’t sure you’d be approving of her calling Eric ‘her grandchild’ when you already had difficulties in accepting that Eric called him ‘dad’ now.

But for the moment, he had already had a rather traumatic discourse with his mother.

So, he got his phone out and showed him a few pictures of Eric he had taken from the last time they had hanged out together, at a park, where Eric had tried out a few goalkeeper’s moves with his dad, under your watchful gaze, although you had given the two boys a bit of alone time, going to grab a few things in the nearby stores.

In the photo Eric was standing on the bench, adjusting his braces, as he waved at Ivar.

And they also had one that you had taken of them together, after Eric pleaded you so that he could show ‘how cool his dad was’ to all his friends, something that had made you grimace a bit, but he had teared up a bit.

And so, did Aslaug as she saw it.

“… Gosh, he looks so adorable!” she commented, as she brought an hand to her mouth in surprise, a bit smile still appearing on it “… he seems a lot like you, when you were younger”.

“I do agree, but not the entire personality… you won’t believe it, but… he is all smiles and sweet words” he mumbled as Aslaug laughed lightly, looking at her son, before a bright light shone on her face.

And Ivar got worried.

“You should invite her for Thanksgiving” it wasn’t a proposal, it was an order “… she was always such a nice girl, well-mannered and sweet… I was surprised when she distanced herself…”.

“… mom, calm down” he told her “… we might have child together, but that doesn’t mean that we are together and that she’ll want to meet you”.

Honestly, his mother had been more excited about (Y/N) than Freydis.

And it was worrying that he too honestly had been also excited at the thought of you and Eric spending Thanksgiving with his family.

Like a true family.

Aslaug looked like a child who had been denied candies.

“Sweetie…” she softened her tone “… I understand the situation, but I’d like to meet my grandchild, obviously with her consent”.

He thought that asking you, wouldn’t have been certainly a bad idea.

Although he was already seeing your denial.

But worst of all: what would have Freydis thought about it?

Although she hadn’t made a huge deal anymore about Eric and you, preferring to just sweep the entire thing under the carpet, and focusing on her own pregnancy, she certainly wouldn’t have been too happy of this.

Even more when she had also been able to sense that Aslaug didn’t like her in the slightest.

But unlike you, she hadn’t bothered trying to impress Aslaug in the slightest.

She certainly respected her, but that was the end of it for her.

She had had Ivar in the end.

“… I’ll ask her, still don’t get your hopes too high” he tried to shut her expectations down, but Aslaug honestly looked like she had been given her Christmas’ gift before time.

“Ahhh, I already can’t believe that my youngest gave me a grandchild first” she commented, already too lost in her thoughts with a beautiful smile on her face “… can’t believe that he is also a sweetheart, don’t you have more photos with him?”.

And he let her watch a few more, before he caught somebody on the entrance of the kitchen, realizing that it was Sigurd, who sent him a rather dark look, as if saying ‘I want to talk with you’.

He left his mother, with the promise of telling her more about Eric, as he moved to join his brother for what he thought would be another sparring of wits, but Sigurd looked much more determined than usual.

“You got her pregnant?” he asked, and before Ivar knew it, his brother had quickly backed him up into a wall “… as if it wasn’t enough already breaking her heart”.

“You have no business in this, brother” he tried to advise him, molding his tone to be the coldest “… believe me”.

“No, I fucking have a lot of business in this…” he spoke, overcoming his voice, definitely bothered by all of this “… she used to be my best friend, and she fucking left the city, because you ruined her life!”.

“I didn’t ruin her life” he replied harshly, trying to push Sigurd away from him.

“Oh yeah… have you any idea how heartbroken she must have been for the fucking heartless joke you played on her, years ago? And think all of this multiplied because she got a baby from you, and baby that she took care on her own”.

Sigurd wasn’t wrong.

But if there was one thing that Ivar couldn’t stand in the slightest, was being put in front of his mistakes.

And being blamed so outwardly for it didn’t help you in the slightest.

“… it isn’t my fault that she didn’t tell me” he tried to reply, but it wasn’t of much help.

“I don’t blame her for that” Sigurd sneered at him “… I wouldn’t also to have a fucking screw up like you around my child”.

Ivar lurched for him, but he wasn’t able to do much, instead stumbling onto and almost falling in his face, barely able to see his brother running away from him.

But his words echoed in his head.

Because in the end…

… he wasn’t wrong.

---

You tried to adapt yourself to the thought of having to spend an entire day without Eric.

Which was something that you hadn’t had since you had become a mother.

And honestly, it scared you to death.

You had never been too far away from your child, at least not for an entire day, because no matter how tired you were, you’d stop at Eric’s room to kiss him and check on him.

And now you’d have to give him over for an entire day to Ivar.

You honestly didn’t want to do such thing, in the slightest.

He had suggested it, after it had been quite some time that he and Eric met and spent time, together.

Enough to convince you that he’d stay in Eric’s life.

And yours.

But yet, your irrational fears as a mother didn’t ease your mind and you felt horridly hollow at the sole thought of having to say goodbye to Eric, who was getting his backpack ready for the following day.

He had been so excited to spend the whole day and night with his dad that he had been counting down the days, constantly talking about what they’d do and how much ice cream he’d eat.

And you had had to send Ivar various texts on not letting Eric guilt-trip him into letting him eat what he wanted.

‘He’s very very cute, but you don’t have to give in to him’ and then you had followed up with ‘… you can do it, I have survived five years of this and so can you’.

You were also a bit worried for Freydis, mostly because as much as Ivar trusted her, she was a stranger to you.

A stranger whose life you were ‘sabotaging’.

So. you were honestly worried about her being the typical ‘evil stepmother’ although Ivar had reassured you that she didn’t mind Eric.

But you knew how women worked.

They said they ‘didn’t mind it’ and then they were storms.

And you didn’t want your son to be caught in the eye of the cyclone.

You had called her the previous day to check in with her, although you had been scared shitless of approaching her, not wanting to seem either demanding or a homewrecker.

She had sounded extremely calm on the phone, but she hadn’t seemed to mind it all too much truly, although she had been sharply gentle with you, impatient to close the conversation but she hadn’t certainly closed the phone in your face, which meant that she wanted to keep a conversation between you, two.

For which you were grateful.

But you were giving her your most treasured possession, your son.

And you hoped she would treat him the best.

And part of you was jealous of how fast your son had latched on Ivar.

Although you shouldn’t have been surprised.

He was his father, after all.

Even though you weren’t sure that being this close to Ivar was helpful or a good thing, in general.

Old emotions had been awakened since Ivar had come back in your life.

You knew that you shouldn’t have felt so so ashamed of the flames of your previous relationship still burning in your chest, but it was so strong that you weren’t able to shake it off, even more when Ivar was such a good father for Eric.

You were trying to shift your emotion behind that reason, but you knew that your old attraction was burning up again and you didn’t want for it brew more inside of your mind.

Although there weren’t many solutions.

Except pushing yourself in work and trying to breath new air.

Which was why you were also low key thankful of having been allowed a bit of free air from Eric, grateful that you’d be able to spend the afternoon with Sigurd, who had been asking you for a few days for a private meeting between you two.

‘It’s been too long since we last see each other, and now that we are in the same city, it’d be a shame for us to waste more space apart’.

And then Angelika had been already ordering a private booth in a small club, to pass the night as true single moms.

And although you didn’t want any quick hook-up, meeting new people might do you good.

At least to break the spell that Ivar had set on you.

Again.

You tried to ease the anxiety in your chest, as you finished folding Eric’s clothes, going to check out on him as you found him trying to push a few of his favorite toys in the already too big backpack.

“Are you sure that you’ll need all these toys?” you asked softly, with a small smirk, brightened by seeing that Eric hadn’t changed yet.

Change scared mothers, because it was a sign of growing up and your sunshine-beauty of a child, would soon be a grumpy teenager and even sooner, he’d be a man leaving your house.

And as much as you understood that it was normal and healthy, you’d miss your sweet boy.

“Yeah! Of course! I want to show dad all the cool stuff I have!” he muttered as if it was the most natural thing ever with Ivar’s determination shining in his eyes.

“Ahhh I don’t think that you’d need still to bring to dad your Avengers’ tower” you mumbled softly, fishing out the huge toy that didn’t allow his backpack to close, making him pout at you “… or maybe we could stuff it in another backpack?”.

“Yeah, I think that is the best option” he replied softly, with a thoughtful expression that made you push a few strands away from his face, as you raised lightly his chin to look at him in the eyes.

“You know that I love you more than everything in the universe?” you asked softly, crooking an eyebrow at him, who immediately moved to hug tightly your middle, as he smashed his face roughly on your stomach.

But you needed that contact.

And you were already on the verge of your tears.

“… you are my mom, of course I love you!” he mumbled, his voice lightly muffled by your clothes.

You wanted to tell him that you weren’t sure that he’d think that when he was some angsty teenager, but for now you beamed in your child’s sweetness, hoping that it’d stick with you for quite a bit.

At least it did brighten your day.

You moved to separate the toys that you would have to put in the new backpack, as you tried to remind him what he had to do when he arrived home.

‘Don’t forget to give Freydis the gift’ you reminded him, as you made sure that he had taken it, finding the small picture frame you had gotten her, as a peace offer ‘… and if you don’t feel comfortable, all you have to do is ask your dad to call me, ok?’.

‘Okie dokie, mom’ he muttered with a fake-annoyed tone, which made you smirk lightly at him, as you rushed to him to tickle him.

‘Did you just roll your eyes to me, young boy’ you teased him, as he tried to escape your grip, but you were stronger and eventually he just gave up, begging for forgiveness as you erupted in laughter.

‘… mom…’ he called out to you, as you both laid out on the bed ‘… I’ll miss you’.

You had to breathe deeply to stop yourself from crying, but eventually as you spoke up, your voice was still choked.

‘… I’ll miss you too, lovely’.

And then you rushed to finish getting ready, rushing to your car, as you helped Eric in the braces, making sure to have his pain medicine, a small note attached to it, although you had no doubt that Ivar was familiar with at least half of it.

You knew that he wouldn’t put Eric in harm’s way.

But still… mommy’s instincts were tough to fight.

As you arrived at Ivar’s apartment, you weren’t able to stop yourself from starting to panic internally, something that Eric probably felt, gripping your hand tighter to comfort you, something for which you were grateful.

You moved to the proper apartment, taking in the beautiful design of the house, much more expensive that the shithole you lived in, and much bigger, something that made you question as always if you had been stupid in denying Eric the life that Ivar could have offered him.

You were brought back by this as the door of the apartment opened to reveal a pretty blonde woman, dressed in a rather elegant assemble that complimented her lean body, matching her natural color.

You were honestly feeling a potato in your comfortable jeans and the hoodie of your high school.

“You must be (Y/N)” you nodded, almost as if it had been an order, although the blonde woman had been extremely gentle, a soft smile on her lips as she looked at Eric, who had moved behind you, trying to hide himself, a bit shy “… and you must be Eric, Ivar has told me a lot about you! Please enter”.

“Ahh thank you!” you mumbled softly, indeed coming inside, as you led Eric with you, trying to coo him out of his shyness bubble “… and please excuse Eric… he is a sweetheart, but a shy one”.

“Totally got that from his father” replied gently Freydis, no sign of the woman that had considered Eric’s baggage in sight, but you still didn’t feel comfortable talking with her alone.

“Is Ivar… out?” you didn’t want to sound annoying or demanding, but you wouldn’t have left Eric with her, because although she seemed the gentlest sweetheart, you didn’t know her fully.

Not as you did with Ivar.

“He is in his study, got a call at the very last minute” she explained, with a light huff “… always at his phone… that man”.

“He isn’t one for much fun” you joined in, remembering that about him also in high school “… all business and no pleasure… if I remember, right?”.

“That’s my fiancé” Freydis giggled and although she hadn’t meant anything harsher in her tone, her words were definitely sharp and cutting.

Telling you that Ivar was her fiancé although he might be Eric’s dad.

“… don’t worry, it won’t take too much” she then added, looking also at Eric, who had finally exited his shell and was looking at her with questioning eyes, wanting to definitely meet his dad and play games “… in the meanwhile, please do sit! And can I get you a drink?”.

“Ahem… no, I am actually meeting with a friend, for a coffee, but thank you”.

Polite and curtsy small talk, meaning nothing, because you couldn’t help but feel that, although Freydis wasn’t being actively mean with you, you were walking on a mined camp.

But Eric took in the offer of sitting, mostly because he wasn’t used to standing up too long after he had been sat in the car, plumping down on a chair with such noise that you couldn’t help but send him a reprimanding look, worried of what Freydis might think of that, but she was on the kitchen counter, pouring a bit of water for herself.

There weren’t much traces of her pregnancy, but a slight roundness on her, with her looking like the portrait of the ‘perfect and radiant pregnant woman’, whereas your pregnancy had been quite tough on you.

And as much as you were a bit jealous of her, you couldn’t help but be glad that she was having a nice pregnancy, because you knew how much of a mental and physical toll it could be.

Although it was absolutely worth in the end.

“… congratulations, by the way! I hope you won’t mind me saying it, but Ivar told me the great news” she wasn’t able to hide the surprise in his eyes, and you softened a bit more your tone “… the first three months are the rougher, believe me”.

And then you got used to feeling like a beached whale.

“… I really hope, I haven’t been sleeping a morning without…” and then she shot a slight look at Eric.

“I can’t truly believe it! You look stunning!” you tried to reassure her, avoiding thinking about the strangeness of this entire thing “… believe me when I was pregnant with this little monster, he wouldn’t let me do much more than to stand on the sofa”.

She laughed softly, and you couldn’t help but see why Ivar had fallen in love with her: she was a nice soft breeze of air, and he honestly deserved it, after everything that had gone through his life.

“… mom!” complained Eric, sending you an embarrassed look, as you and Freydis laughed softly.

And then he remembered about the gift, quickly getting it out of his backpack as he moved to reach Freydis halfway, who crouched down to the boy’s height and thanked him when she received the wrapped gift.

She unwrapped it quickly, as you held your breath, hoping she’d like it and wouldn’t treat your boy as her own Cinderella once you were out of the door.

She was extremely surprised by it, and seemed to quite like it, kissing Eric’s cheek to thank him, as he blushed redder, something that immediately reminded you of Ivar.

Who, almost as if he had been summoned, entered the room, in that moment.

Eric’s eyes immediately brightened as he rushed to him, making Ivar smirk as he brought him up in a swirling hug, which made you and Freydis screech in horror, both worried for your boys.

But then Ivar settled him down, smacking a sound kiss on his face as Eric washed it off, acting as ‘a true man’.

You’d have to have a talk with Eric about toxic masculinity.

“… hey champ!” Ivar mused, before he saluted you softly, shooting a small look at Freydis to check in with her, and she smiled stretching the smile on her face, as she tried to busy herself to move away, leaving you a bit of privacy “… sorry for being late, I had an urgent phone call”.

“Don’t worry” you shut him off slightly, because today you’d be trying to extinguish the small flames he had left in your heart “… I have left a change in his backpack, but if you need anything, my mom is at home and if you have any questions, you have my phone number…”.

“Gotcha, (Y/N)” he mumbled with a wicked look in his eyes.

“I am not being overbearing” you replied tightly, as he simply sent you a sarcastic look “… try having a child and then we’ll see, and I really hope it won’t turn in a girl or you won’t ever let her date”.

“Of course, I won’t… I know how horrible boys can be” and you couldn’t help but realize that he was talking about himself “… but in the meanwhile, get some fun, mother hen”.

“Please don’t lose my child” you teased him and he simply sent you an annoyed look, before it softened up once Eric asked him whether he could have ice cream, and Ivar agreed, ignoring blatantly your suggestion “… I’ll think about you as I sleep peacefully, meanwhile you are cursed with a little sugar-high demon”.

“Your mom just has the best humor, doesn’t she?” retorted Ivar as he and Eric shared a conspiratorial look, and you could just pout softly at them both.

“Ok, now I’ll go, and I’ll leave you to your male bonding” you gently mocked them “… have a nice time and you got my number”.

“Don’t worry, just have a relaxing day” he mumbled softly with a small look “… and if you have a quiet moment, tomorrow when you come and pick him up we could grab a coffee, I have a thing to ask you”.

Which spurred on your anxiety, but you nodded, giving one last kiss at Eric, who wiped it away trying to appear all tough again, but his eyes didn’t leave you till the door closed behind you.

The sound was so shocking that it hit you.

You wouldn’t have your son for an entire day, and it was already crushing your soul.

In the end you ran away, trying to think that you’d see him tomorrow.

And that right now you had a friend to meet.

And you hoped that’d make you feel better.

---

And how wrong were you.

Sigurd had arrived lightly late and from the start you had been able to catch the fact that he was nervous, but you had thought he was simply scared of meeting a friend he hadn’t seen in quite a bit of time.

And then you realized that he was actually irritated.

And after the usual ‘hey how are you’ ‘long time no see’, he had gotten down to business.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Ivar and you had a child?”.

And you were taken aback, wondering how he had discovered it.

Ivar hadn’t told you anything, about having told his family about Eric.

You had both agreed upon not telling his brothers, although he had told you that he had wanted to communicate it to his mother, alongside Freydis’ pregnancy.

‘If she gets an heartattack don’t blame it on me’ you had muttered it when he had explained you his decision, and he had simply smirked back.

“… Sigurd… we weren’t on talking terms” you explained softly, because it was the truth.

Not only, since you had discovered of the pregnancy, you had distanced yourself from the Lothbrock family, but you were sure that if you had told anything to Sigurd he wouldn’t have been able to keep his mouth shut.

And you hadn’t wanted Ivar to know about your pregnancy, back then.

Sigurd had been one of your best friends back then, but he hadn’t also reached out to you when you had started distancing yourself after Ivar had broken your heart, so it wasn’t completely your fault and you told him to intimating him to lower his voice.

“… I came here to have a nice coffee with a friend who I haven’t seen in a lot of time” you explained, your voice grounding him back to reality “… not to be insulted for choices that he had no business in”.

That seemed to get to him, and he apologized with a dark look of sadness on his face.

Although he and Ivar were at each other’s throat 24/7, they were so so damnably similar that you understood completely why they constantly fought against each other.

They had both this pendant to assume the worst about others.

“… I am sorry, I just…” he looked at his hands to shift his gaze away from you “… I am shocked, I didn’t expect… that to happen… I mean… it’s Ivar… he has…”.

“Believe me, Sigurd, it worked, at least once” you commented, knowing where he was going at “… I have a lot of proof of it, if you are asking for confirmation”.

“No no, I know that, don’t worry” mumbled glowing red Sigurd “… it is just that… I mean… I just can’t believe that he got lucky enough to have a son with you and that… and that you chose not to let him know”.

“Sigurd, he told me that he didn’t love me, anymore” you explained to him “… that child was mine, and not his”.

“Then why are you allowing him to see Eric?” he inquired, with a raised brow.

“… because he is his father, as much as Ivar broke my heart” you explained and although at first you had found it difficult to say it, now it was as natural as breathing “… I don’t think that I need Ivar to raise Eric, but… I can’t hide him for ever, and Eric deserves to know”.

Sigurd nodded, as he seemed to think about it, before he finally let out a breath.

“I just… I just hoped he hadn’t chosen to break your heart” he mumbled, and you couldn’t help but agree “… like it’d have been nice to have you in our family and not that gold digger”.

“Sigurd!” you reprimanded him, immediately, with a rather harsh look at him.

“Oh c’mon! They have been together for a few months and she was like ‘let’s get married’ and then ‘let’s have a child’ “ mumbled annoyedly Sigurd.

“… or maybe she simply loves him” you commented, as Sigurd sent you a disbelieving look.

“… or she loves his money” he corrected you.

“Are you saying this because it is the truth? Or because you are jealous of Ivar?” you joked softly, kicking him under the table “… because if he is happy, you shouldn’t be this grumpy”.

“Are you seriously happy that he is moving on and making a family with somebody else?”.

The question stole your hair from your lungs, but you tried not to show it to him.

“… yes, of course, Sigurd!” you mumbled, trying to hype up your energy “… we were high school sweethearts, but an entire life has passed since then, I do understand that he has moved on. And I have, too”.

Except you hadn’t.

But you had to.

“I still think that he is a fucking idiot for leaving you” grumped out Sigurd, as he lowered his eyes, but some semblance of peace was regained, as you finally managed to shift the discourse away from Ivar’s stupidity.

Sigurd wanted to see Eric and you were more than happy to show him through photos, as he informed you that his mother did indeed know of Eric and was excited about the news and you couldn’t help but find it difficult to picture Mrs. Lothbrock excited.

She had always had this haughty air about her that made you feel at extreme unease with her, even more when you had started sneaking around with Ivar and each time she caught you in the house, she’d look at you with this stare ‘I know how badly you corrupted my son’.

You hadn’t thought that she’d have been ecstatic of knowing that you and Ivar had been irresponsible enough to have a child, but according to Sigurd, she wanted to meet her ‘grandchildren’.

Which brought literal chills to move down your spine.

You appreciated that she wanted to be involved, but at the same time… it was just too much.

And you had been glad when Sigurd had shifted the theme of the conversation onto himself, and you were all too happy to be distracted by his horrifying music career, as you teased him for it.

But this coffee left a bad taste in your mouth.

Because suddenly Eric wasn’t anymore your secret.

And as much as you were glad for more people around you…

… it also meant they might leave you.

And you’d be heartbroken again.

But it’d be worse now, because they’d also leave Eric heartbroken.

---

In the end Ivar found out that you were right: Eric was a monster after having eaten ice cream as an afternoon snack and after dinner, but Ivar honestly knew that he couldn’t deny his child much.

At least to make up for the lost time.

They had played all afternoon, after he had threatened Heahmund to tell him to avoid bothering him with anything work-related for the rest of the day, since he wanted to play with his son.

And played they did, going even outside in the small apartment’s private garden to try out some soccer moves, as Freydis got everything ready, pointedly avoiding to look at them, together.

What she didn’t say, except with her eyes was ‘… I don’t have a problem with your bastard, but I don’t want to be part of this… at least for now’.

But he had been rather thankful for your gentleness with Freydis and for the respect he had felt between you two.

He hadn’t honestly expected for it to go this well, so he wasn’t certainly going to complain.

Although he was tired, wanting to straight up go to bed, after he had managed to make Eric fall asleep, he still did his best to adjust the mess of toys in the sitting room, before he joined Freydis in their bed.

She was finishing up getting ready, dosing her body with her usual lotions, a soft smile filling the room in a rather pleasing matter, immediately relaxing him as he moved to the bed, keeping his keen eyes on her.

She was slender, maybe a bit more than you could ever be, and graceful enough that nothing in her seemed out of place, and she was damnably beautiful.

But strangely, she had no effect on him.

Although he had noticed her for her beauty when she had accidentally smashed a cup of coffee on him, as she was rushing to her first day of work, he couldn’t get further than that.

She was beautiful, sweet and gentle.

But at the same time there was almost a block between him and her.

And he hoped that the marriage and the baby might help him developing this relationship further, because right now he felt stuck.

And he knew that Freydis was feeling it too.

Even more since you and Eric had appeared again.

He could see it in the way she felt threatened by your appearance.

He sometimes wished that his stupid prick would just work, so that he could give Freydis a part of him properly.

But sadly, he couldn’t.

And Freydis’ badly hidden sadness didn’t help, as she set beside him in bed, comfortably.

“Did you have fun?” she asked softly, as she turned to him, meanwhile he plugged in his phone and set up the alarm for the following day, pretty late since it was Saturday.

“Yes, I did” he mumbled, as he unbuckled his braces, having helped Eric through his, before he got him to swallow his medicine “… it was tiring but satisfying”.

“It’ll be definitely useful for the future” commented gingerly Freydis, as she moved to grab one of his hands, and pushed it onto her barely rounded stomach, as she smiled up to him “… you seemed a pretty amazing dad with Eric”.

“Ahh I am just trying my best” he commented, as he moved to face her, finally slipping under the covers, as he switched off the main lights, keeping on only the lamp on the bedside table “… he is a sweet boy”.

“That he is” she replied, although he could see that Freydis’ face was a bit shadowed “… (Y/N) did an amazing thing… and all on her own!”.

He didn’t know why but Freydis’ words hit him profoundly, stroking a rage on his chest, because he couldn’t help but feel like they had a double-meaning.

As if they weren’t exactly truthful.

But he tried to ignore it.

Freydis had honestly every right to be angry at him for what had happened with you, and he’d tolerate it, because he had done wrong in not telling her and in keeping things from her.

But he wouldn’t regret you or Eric.

He certainly wouldn’t have, when speaking with Freydis seemed so insidious.

He remembered the soft exchange of words before you had left Eric to him, the easiness with which he was starting to speak with you again, as you smiled softly, taking care of your child as if it was the most brilliant thing ever.

Not that you didn’t have awkward moments.

But talking with you had always been as easy as breathing with him.

And he had thought that he would have felt the same with Freydis this, but slowly… he just…

He again hoped that the child and the wedding would change everything, because he was so damnably in love with Freydis: she was the woman of his dreams and the woman he had always wanted.

But at the same time, he couldn’t deny that some parts of him still loved you.

And that wasn’t something that was ever going to change now that you were with him.

And this might be quite troublesome.

He brought Freydis closer to him, softly shushing her and wishing her ‘goodnight’, as he switched off the lamp on the bedside table and tried to rest his mind.

But sadly, there wasn’t any rest for the wicked.

---

The following morning you came to pick up Eric.

You didn’t look exactly ‘awake’, but from the look on your face and the huge sunglasses you were wearing, Ivar assumed that you had probably partied a bit last night.

And some part of him, which he quickly shoved down, couldn’t help but be… jealous and possessive of you, although he laid no claim to you.

You were a free woman, who was more than allowed to do what you wanted.

And he had a fiancé.

And a child on the way.

And yet he asked himself whether you had been hanging out with a simple friend or you had brought somebody home.

He justified as simple worry for Eric and his wellbeing.

He didn’t want him to grow among unknown men crashing on your couch.

As Freydis saw you, she immediately offered you coffee again, being shut down by a soft ‘no’, as Eric immediately appeared in the kitchen in his superhero pajama, shooting himself in your arms, as you giggled a bit startled.

“Hey, little captain America, I was gone just for a day” but with the way your lips crooked up he knew that you were happy that he had missed you “… but I am glad to see you too”.

And then you shot up a quick look at Freydis and Ivar, who were sat down on the kitchen table readying everything for breakfast.

“… I hope he wasn’t too much to handle” you apologized softly as he gently asked to be picked up, which you did as if it was the most normal thing.

“He was a complete sweetheart” answered Freydis for both, because Ivar was completely taken aback by the motherly charm you were exuding, interrupted by Freydis’ loving hands settling on his “… wasn’t he?”.

“He was” added Ivar, as he insisted for you to join them for breakfast, since Eric had woken up late, alongside his parents, so it’d take him a bit for getting ready “… and you really look like you could use a cup of coffee”.

“… maybe” you agreed, eventually letting go of your monkey who set himself on the table, meanwhile Freydis collected another chair for you, as she asked to Eric what he preferred to eat for breakfast.

“… and you aren’t allowed to say ice cream” reprimanded him softly Ivar, immediately getting a pout from his child, showing him that a bit of ‘his most annoying’ genes had been passed down to the boy, alongside his pretty eyes “… but we have the corn flakes you like, don’t we Freydis?”.

The woman immediately nodded, as she passed you the chair, for which you thanked her, asking if you could help her with something, as she asked if you could help her with coffee, already getting a few mugs out.

The breakfast was calm, although an awkward silence filled the air, meanwhile you spoke softly with Eric, checking if he had taken his medicine and if his legs had hurt the previous night, as he excitedly told you about how he had taught Ivar new soccer moves.

“Oh it is good that you are making him do some exercise” you mumbled jokingly, as you turned to Ivar “… or he wouldn’t get enough nonr, he used to avoid PE as if it was the plague”.

“That was low” replied Ivar darkly, but his eyes sparkled with amusement, as he felt Freydis scrunching up her eyebrows, unaware of this, as Eric just asked if he could also ‘skip PE’.

“… and it backfired” you commented as you proceeded to explain to Eric the importance of PE, as Freydis kept on throwing daggers at Ivar, with her eyes, which he ignored, till you eventually had to leave, offering to help Eric pack up.

“Is there anything else that you haven’t told me?” asked Freydis, as she linked one of her arms with his.

“I don’t think, sweetheart” he tried to escape this awkward conversation “… we used to be best friends, so it is pretty normal that she knows those things about me”.

“Well yeah, that’s what best friends are there for, isn’t it?” she asked what looked like a trap question and he simply nodded, immediately taking the chance to accompany you to the car.

Where another harsh conversation was to be held.

You set up Eric on the back of the car, helping him to get out of his braces and his seat, as Ivar held the door for you, eventually managing to face you as you checked a bit more on how Eric had felt and if he had created any trouble.

“.. and I have to ask you another favor”,

“Is this about coming to Thanksgiving to your mother?” you surprised him, and he had to take a few minutes before he replied to you.

“… ahem… how do you…?”.

“Sigurd…” you explained, as he immediately was annoyed “… I met him for a coffee, yesterday…”.

“You met with Sigurd?” he asked you, extremely confused.

And he had to admit it, slightly annoyed.

“He was my friend, before we were even friends!” you retorted, catching his tone, almost as if you were justifying yourself “… and my answer is that I’ll think about it”.

“My mom is just… excited about having a grandchild” he mumbled, almost as if he was the one who had to justify himself.

“She just has to wait for another seven months and she’ll get one” you commented, with a tiny knowing smirk that he had always found the sexiest “… and she doesn’t even like me, even more now that she knows about Eric, probably…”.

“She never hated you!” replied exasperated Ivar “… and she is excited to see Eric, but… I understand if you don’t feel like that”.

“I’ll think about it” you simply repeated again, before saluting him, as you got in the car, making Eric wave at him, till you were lost in the horizon.

And he couldn’t help but hate the thought of you leaving.

---

Eric sang for the entire on the road back home, much to your hangover head.

But you were glad to have him back in your arms.

Although a night without him had been quite more pleasurable than you had thought…

… till the following morning you had woken up with a full-blown hangover, some random guy’s number in your phone with the note ‘call me’, although you were sure that you’d never do it.

In fact, not even a few harmless chats with the guys in the club that Angelika had brought you in had broken you away from your attraction towards Ivar.

Hence you had grown quite heavy with the alcohol.

But at least the hangover had avoided making you think about him.

Maybe you should have seriously thanked Angelika.

Although you doubted she’d be up right now, since not only her son was at her father’s house on the weekends, but she had gone back home with a pretty young thing last night, after she had accompanied you back home.

Your mother had caught you in your stumbling steps and had simply helped you to settle in bed, mumbling something about ‘having enough children, these days’ but she had left water by your beside table.

Which you had needed, because you had woken up with a sore throat, suddenly remembering about the first time you had drunk something remotely alcoholic.

It had happened at the Lothbrocks’ house.

They had always bene a terrible influence on you.

Ragnar had come back from one of his ‘trips’ and he had brought over a bottle of some awful Nordic liquor, which you had downed alongside the brothers as you played a rather version of ‘never have I ever’.

And luckily for you, half of the questions where sexual, so you had drunk.

A lot.

To the point that Ivar had insisted on you staying over, before you were even together.

Not that he had much choice, you had fallen asleep on his bed a few minutes after he had bought you to his room.

It had been the first of many nights spent together.

And the missing figure of his body against you, hurt you.

A month ago, you wouldn’t have cared.

But having Ivar so close to you and Eric…

… it almost made you think about what you could have been.

And what he would be with Freydis’ child.

You were truly happy for her.

She was sweet and gorgeous, what more could Ivar want?

A single mom who was a complete and utter mess wasn’t seriously something anybody might have been interested in.

Eric called out your name and you immediately shook yourself from your thought, realizing that you had actually arrived home.

“Oh Gosh” you were glad that your own hands had been much more functional than your awful brain “… we are here, already”.

“Mommy, are you hurt?” asked worried Eric, seeing you grimacing a bit because of the tiredness in your limbs.

Honestly, it wasn’t supposed to be that heavy on you.

You weren’t that old after all… you hoped.

“No, no sweetie” ‘my heart just decided to break itself on useless memories’ “… what about you? Do your legs bother you?”.

“No no” he chanted, with a happy smile on his face “… I am just a bit tired”.

“Are you saying that because you are truly tired or because you don’t want to do your homework?”.

“Daddy didn’t make me do any homework yesterday!” he tried to protest, just to be frozen by your harsh gaze.

Even hangover you knew how to handle the temper he had inherited from Ivar.

“… and that is why you shall do some today” you commented, as you moved to exit the car and collect him, helping him with his braces and in getting up, as he brought his backpack with him “… not too many, if you promise not to protest too much”.

“I swear that I won’t talk as Loki, when they stitched his mouth close” he promised, zipping his mouth, as you sent him a worried look.

“A rather gruesome story…” she mumbled softly “… I’ll have a talk with your father about it”.

“He said you wouldn’t have approved” he commented, with that smartass smirk his father had as well.

“… but he still told you” you grumped more on yourself than on anything else.

You and Eric arrived at home, your mother welcoming you back, as she hugged her beloved grandchild, something that reminded you of the conversation that you had last had with Ivar about Aslaug.

Your mother loved Eric with all her heart, it was her grandchild.

And had the situation been reversed, had you been the one who had just discovered of your child… you would have wanted your mother to know him.

In the end Ivar would always do as he preferred.

And get people to bow for him.

Part of you wanted to almost refuse his offer to let Aslaug meet your son, because of that.

But… it wouldn’t have been fair… to the poor woman.

As much as you didn’t find particular interest in Aslaug and in her liking you, your younger self had always tried to appease to her, both because she meant so much to Ivar, but also because you admired her.

She was a single mom too, with four children, one of which born with a rare genetic disease, handling an absent father and constant fights among her children.

And she always looked damnably classy, with her stylish clothes and her ironic gaze.

You had always been scared of her.

And you were still, a bit.

But you had grown.

You were yourself a single mother, maybe less stylish than her.

You were doing it for her, not for Ivar.

And that was what you kept on saying to yourself, as you asked to a wondering Eric.

“Would you like to know your other grandma, little one?”.

---

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catchlalune · 4 years

Text

Original artwork here

a/n: Hello starbursts! Happy Juneteenth and I hope everyone is staying safe and still quarantining! This fic is very different from my usual works so I need to preface this in my authors note that all of the characters in the story are pretty awful. If you find yourself in any of these situations PLEASE seek help. I wrote this to highlight these issues and you should think of it much like a modern day Romeo and Juliette story (and what I mean by that is that everyone in that story was incredibly dense and really could’ve solved a lot of their issues by talking and working through things together.) Thank you to @skzctnightnight and @pockpop for actually helping me maintain my motivation for finishing writing in an actual day. (also tagging @jejublr )

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairings: Lucas x Reader

Genre: Angst, CEO! Au, Arranged Marriage

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, smut, abusive relationship (this is not between the reader and Lucas), this again is to highlight how awful people can be this is an extremely toxic scenario so please don’t read if you will be triggered. Also not proofread yet but I plan on fixing it later

This is not in any way, shape, or form meant to say that I believe Lucas is like this in the slightest. I am using his likeness to portray a completely fictional character and that is all.

The entirety of the two years she has spent with Lucas culminates to the two of them in this moment. The sinful sounds the two of them make as skin slaps on skin. The feel of him inside her. Everything is hot and wet and passionate. As passionate as the kisses they’ve always shared. As hot as the sun on their skin as they sit and laugh in the sun, Lucas’ parents included. As wet as the rain as it pours outside, slapping on the pavement in hard droplets.

They say that if it rains on your wedding day it means the relationship is meant to last forever. But what does it mean when it happens on a day of goodbyes? Are you fated to never say hello again?

Whatever it means does not matter much to the two of them. Lucas is too busy coaxing his cock in and out of her to think of much other than their combined pleasure. They draw this out for as long as they possibly can. They know what will happen when they finish. But still Lucas must bring her to the apex of her pleasure, circling her throbbing bud as he stoaks the fire inside her belly. Her toes tingle, eyes shut tight and breathing ragged. Her fingers pinch and rub at her nipples until she's shaking.

She comes undone with a sweet groan, gripping him until he releases into the condom.

They lay there in the darkness of the night, the only illumination being the red of the alarm clock on Lucas’ bedside table. Glaringly it tells them the time but they ignore it as it looks in on them. It judges silently as the time reaches hours close enough for the sun to claw its way above civilization. They grasp for each other in the post-coituous haze. It does not matter, no matter how tightly they cling.

“I want to stay like this forever.” His whispers sound like music to her ears, the song of a siren.

She does not answer him, anything she wants to say is caught in her throat. The memories that flood her mind hurt her before his words even can. Distinctly she remembers his mother telling her about the arranged marriage proposal from before he was even a child. Lucas doesn’t even know, she hadn’t even known up until two weeks ago. Their two year relationship had suddenly been reduced to nothing by those words. And his mother had been so casual about it, telling her as they searched for Lucas’ birthday present as if it was nothing more than an afterthought. ‘And by the way, you will never be able to have my son. Not completely.’

She doesn’t realize the sobs that wrack her until Lucas pulls her close. He coos at her about how she always gets so emotional after sex. He jokes, tries to lighten the mood but nothing will quiet her mind. Not really. She knows that their graduation tomorrow means the end of this, of them. She knows she should at least tell him why, but she can’t bring herself to say the words.

Instead she lets him hum the both of them to sleep, Lucas feeling bad about not being able to cure her of whatever ails her. She speaks to him after a brief period of rest, words hardly above the sound of the rustling of sheets.

“Maybe we could’ve been, in another world.”

By the time he wakes the sun is just rising over the horizon, alarm clock blaring, and the bed cold. He doesn’t have to wait long to find out she is no longer with him. Some part of him feels the dread, knows something must’ve been wrong but he tries to brush it off. He does a good job of it too until he realizes he can’t reach her. Her number automatically disconnects, her things are no longer at her dorm room, and he doesn’t even catch a glimpse of her at graduation. When it is time for her to walk the stage there is a pregnant pause and the name of the graduate. He can’t imagine what must have happened to make her miss her own college graduation but he can’t even find the time to worry. Not when his parents are there and tell him the truth.

---

“If I have to listen to another man tell me about how to run my own business I just might shoot myself in the foot.”

Already the span of time has reached six long years. Leaving him was a decision she did not pride herself on. Some nights ended with dreams, ghosts of memories too long passed. Echoes of a time she felt safe, felt confident. Now she stands in the lobby of a convention center trying to figure out which panel would aggravate her the least. Two more long days she would have to deal with the misogyny, usually her patience wouldn’t be so thin but she hasn’t been able to sleep very well recently. She wakes up with the feel and taste of him on her. She feels dirty.

“I agree, we can do it together.” The woman-- who she hadn’t noticed-- smiles at her so brightly it makes her a bit uncomfortable. She was very pretty, the image of most men’s dreams probably. Perfectly manicured nails, long pin-straight hair, skin a milky complexion, lips a shade of pink that was not too bold and not too flirty. The woman also wears a dress she vaguely remembers seeing in a high fashion magazine not too long ago whilst waiting at the doctor's office-- in another word: expensive. She feels a bit embarrassed to have said that so loud where others could obviously hear her. It was obvious she was being watched, she was a woman in a man's world she was always being watched.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t worry about it. Your secret is safe with me!” The woman takes a moment to wink at her, she shifts on her feet still feeling a bit awkward. “My name’s Jaeun, you’re the CEO of Xuxi’s Publishing Group, correct? I’ve been trying to find you all day.”

Jaeun launches into a story about how she’d stumbled upon her company and relaxes her enough for the two of them to have a conversation about things other than business. It had been such a long time since she had a friend and talking to Jaeun was extremely easy. Maybe it was the way she seemed so bright and bubbly, or even the way she navigated conversations with a natural grace. Whatever it was, Jaeun quickly became a staple in her life for the next two days.

And then it all comes crashing down on her, just like the rain on that night it rains the last day of the convention. It comes down so hard it resonates within the convention center. But that’s not what she’s focused on. Jaeun had offered for her to meet her husband and his parents excitedly yesterday after talking to her about the lack of business prospects. It was supposed to be relaxed and informal but she was on absolute high alert.

The years were kind to him in a way that she considered unfair. He was even more beautiful than the night she left him.

“There you are! This is my husband Lucas. I showed him your business proposal and he wants to have a meeting for a merger.”

It’s no more than a few days after the convention that he shows up on her doorstep in business casual attire that puts hers to shame. She’s not even sure if it was actually smart for them to be left alone together but she swallows the lump in her throat and lets in him. She offers him a plate of food that she made for their lunch but he declines. He does the same to her offer for water and coffee as well. He’s been there all of five minutes and already her palms are sweating. She almost feels silly as he tells her that she can eat, always feeling like the one taking instead of giving.

"Do you really like her as a friend?" A strange conversation for him to start, but he needed to vet her nonetheless.

"Yes." There is no doubt in her words, they are hard and come out leaving no room for doubt.

"Do you love and cherish her?"

"Of course I do, it's been so long since finding a friend like her." She fiddles with her fork wondering why this was being asked to her and not the other way around.

"You know I think she loves you too. I don't know about cherish, that's a good change word. It's just that her mom is so skeptical of everyone, it's better that she doesn't get too close."

"I know, but it doesn't change my answer. "

There's a brief pause between them before he speaks again, a small smile on his face.

"I almost wish I was in an arranged marriage with you. I think it would be easy to fall in love. Should I just end it with her? You know I could." He says it with such conviction it makes her heart flutter.

"Don't say things like that. Jaeun really likes you, she really wants to make it work." It almost sickened her how easy it was for him to just say those words to her. Maybe it was easy for him, but what about her friend? She was groomed her whole life for him. The way he would easily throw her away for another makes her resolve to forget the butterflies in her stomach that much stronger.

"Let's get down to business now shall we? You came here to talk about a merger." She looks at him with her eyes and jaw set and he knows. He knows he is going to fall into her head first and drown. He knows that she is so loyal to her morals and her friendship that she would willingly let any sparks for him fizzle out and die. He knows it, and yet the beating of his heart only gets faster.

"Let's."

She is exactly how he remembers her. And the way he remembers her is very intimate. If he closes his eyes he can faintly feel the way her body would meld perfectly against him. Lips laying kisses across the expanse of his visage. The smell of her, fresh and sweet; the smell of citrus and a hint of honey with jasmine blooms. He can still feel the way their hearts beat at each others ribcage, trying to find a way out and meld together. But they never did, and they never will.

It has already been two weeks since their meeting and business between them is going off without a hitch. But of course that's all that is going on between them, business. She is just as intelligent and bright as she always has been and it seems if only she had been dealt a luckier hand in life her business would've surpassed his years ago. He shouldn't be but she makes it so easy to remember their summer tryst. She makes it so easy to remember how he cares for her.

Even at the company dinner she makes it easy, she glides through the room as if on air. Her pantsuit hugs her body in all the right places. He takes note of how it makes her stand out, of the power she exudes just by making a not so orthodox outfit choice. Of course some of the men would think she was a hardass because of it, but when she saunters away with a pretty brunette and stay in the bathroom longer than socially acceptable they begin to think other things. Of course even if these things are true it's none of their business and he tells them just that. Reminding them of the company rules against harassment and intimidation.

This doesn't stop him from waiting for her though. After another ten minutes the brunette slipping out from the bathroom a satiated look on her face Lucas is waiting. He keeps his eyes trained on the bathroom door but when he feels it's been too long he doesn't wait anymore. It is a company wide policy that most bathrooms be gender neutral and luckily this was one such one. He makes his way quietly into the single toilet, he tells himself it's just to make sure that she's okay. But when he sees the way she looks he can't help but ask her.

"Did you have fun?" It's an innocent enough question but the implications of it are anything but innocent.

"Are you mad?" She doesn't even startle at his presence, as if she knew he would be looking for her. It takes him a second to really be able to answer her. He thinks about it long and hard.

"I can't be mad, because I was the one that let you slip away from me." He regards her with a soft wisftfulness that makes both their hearts ache. It hurts to look at her lipstick smudged and hair disheveled when he wasn't the one who's done it. He wonders if the woman she's just hooked up with knows.

"If I had held you longer, maybe you wouldn't have slipped out of the bed that night. We could've woken up to each other we could've-"

"You know that's not true. Don't even pretend for a second your parents would've given up your arranged marriage."

"We don't know that, we could've been more persistent! We could've begged." His eyes are alight, wild with all of the things he might have done to stay with her had he known it would hurt him this much.

"No, it wouldn't have changed anything. Just like every other rich person the only thing you and your whole family value is money and power. It doesn't matter how much they liked me." The words come out of her mouth as sharp as razor blades and they cut. They cut so deep and so hot it almost makes him dizzy. He knows she doesn't mean it, she's just upset because he'd almost caused her friendship to fall through. He deserves it but just because it was true about his parents doesn't mean it was for him.

"You don't understand how much I love you." He steps forward, tears threatening to pour down his beautiful face. She will regret her next words for the rest of her life. But she must say them even if they aren't true, even if they hinder her from happiness.

"I understand, but it's that my understanding does not matter. Jaeun loves you." Her words echo through different times and spaces it seems. They beat at the two of them brutally. They make it hard to breathe.

"Do you love me?" He steps closer, words falling from his lips like water from a faucet. They begin to flood the room with their intensity, the water is at their shins. She steps back.

"Jaeun loves you." A shake of her head and the room is flooded higher, the water at their hips now. He takes another step forward.

"Do you love me?" The words are at their chests now and she shakes her head again, tears mirroring the ones steaming down his face.

"Jaeun loves you." He stops when she is almost against the wall but doesn't proceed forward.

"Do you love Jaeun?"

"I do, with all that is in me. She's been my only friend through all of this. I can't betray her." The words are at their throats now, they choke her so that her speech is airy and labored. They press at her chest. He knew that he would drown in her, he just didn't realize he would never be saved.

"But loving me, you already have." He steps away and she can already breathe better when her senses aren't so full of him.

"I never said-"

"You didn't have to." The smile he gives her is preposterously solemn for such a wide showcase of his teeth.

"Jaeun loves you." She whispers back to him, head bowed and eyes looking at the shiny leather of his shoes.

"I know, but I love you. " He turns away from her and begins his exit and subsequently his descent into madness. Every step he takes from her causes her to fall just a bit closer to the floor, by the time he is gone she is already on her knees gasping for air.

Jaeun waits for him outside the room with an eerily stoic face. He knows she has heard everything but he doesn't care, he hopes she wants a divorce but to his surprise she offers him her usual smile. Normally he'd think it was full of charm but her words...her very words tell him she was simply a snake all along.

"Let's go home, I'll help you forget about her."

They were so caught up in the turmoil of their relationship they hadn't even seen the signs. The seeds that Jaeun had sowed. And now, they played right into her hand. But for her sake, he'd do everything to make sure she wouldn't find out.

"I don't need or want whatever it is you're offering me. What I want is for you to get the fuck away from me." His words come out scathing, he puts every bit of malice he can into each and every letter. But it just makes Jaeun laugh, she then fixes him with a look so sinister it almost makes him shiver.

"Don't be silly. The second the two of you got together there was already a due date on your relationship. You were never meant to be forever, there was a deadline and it ended exactly when I decided it to. Really it's your fault for ever getting involved with her in the first place." She ends it with a sneer marring her pretty features and so loud he hushes her fearing that his lover might hear.

"Is it really my fault?" The thought seems ludicrous to him but all Jaeun needs is that inch of doubt in his voice to take it a full mile.

"Of course it is baby, you're just as awful as I am. But it's okay, I forgive you." He lets her pull him away after that, head so clouded with her words he can barely manage to walk correctly. It was true, he knew he was getting an arranged marriage and his parents knew but still he…

He would make sure that she'd be happy anyway he could even if it meant being in a relationship with Jaeun.

The years spread between them like a desert, sands of time speeding up and slowing down in frequent intervals that they can't change though sometimes they wish they could. Lucas' marriage to Jaeun is nothing more than a facade and his deserves an Oscar for his performance every time she comes around. Sometimes he wonders why Jaeun keeps her if she doesn't really see her as a friend but then remembers that Jaeun is cruel and enjoys watching the two of them pine. Whenever he kisses Jaeun he feels her lips ghosting across his own. Whenever he touches Jaeun he feels her skin soft and supple. Whenever he fucks Jaeun he really wishes he could make love to her. And whenever he sees their daughter though he loves her to death, he wishes her mother was another woman. He especially wishes it when she comes around to babysit.

Jaeun takes her cruelty to a whole new degree when she begins to ask her "friend" to babysit for her. 'She's just so tired and Lucas is always so busy.' And it isn't entirely a lie, but Lucas had long since been working from home just to be able to catch a glimpse of her in passing. He didn't think his heart could ache more but it does the moment he hears it. He watches from around the corner to the kitchen, peering in and spying like a shadow.

"Mommy can we have chicken for lunch?" His daughter had just begun to learn how to enunciate her words better. Four years old and Jaeun had hardly stepped in to care for the child, she wasn't a mother any more than she was a wife this much was evident from their daughters words.

"I'm not your mommy darling, you can call me auntie though." She bends down to pat Jisoo on the head. Eyes tender with a longing she could not put into words.

"But you act like a mommy, can't you be my mommy? Can we please have chicken?" The four year old pouts up at her, Lucas nearly swoons. Everyone knows that it's true, even the maid and butler agreed she was a much better fit for Jaeun at motherhood. But secrets should never be uttered aloud.

"We can have chicken Jisoo, but you can't keep calling me that. At least not in front of everyone." Jisoo lights up at the prospect of some kind of compromise.

"Does that mean I can still call you mommy?" She hushes the child and leans in close to her. Lucas has to strain to hear the words that come from her.

"Yes, but only when we're alone and you have to be very quiet. It'll be our little secret, promise?" She holds out her pinky for Jisoo to wrap her smaller one around.

Lucas returns to his office with a smile on his face, something he'd not worn in such a long time the staff gave him strange looks, whispers of rumors beginning. It made no difference to him, he'd just been so happy to keep their secret safe. A secret made for two.

#wayv scenarios #wayv smut #nct scenarios #nct smut #lucas scenarios #lucas smut #xuxi scenarios #xuxi smut #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop angst #wayv angst #nct angst #nct wayv #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: manipulation #tw: abusive relationship

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boomerang109 · 3 years

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ALSO JSDNFJH ZUKO IN WWDA WITH SHOULDER/EAR LENGTH HAIR (LIKE SUKI) WOULD LOOK JUST LIKE EURYDICE AND I DONT KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THAT

ZUKO AS EURYDICE AFGHAJFGHAFDJ I LOVE IT

honestly that’s like who he parallels in the relationship too? and sokka is orpheus? 👀

anyway, buckle down for the hair rant you didn’t ask for. i have Thoughts and i have for a while but they haven’t been communicated well through the actual fic because they’re like slow burn ideas but also i have no fucking patience and i feel like my foreshadowing is really tiny details and i’m worried that it’s just coming off as Uneducated so i’m gonna explain it

so before i tackle hair, one scene y’all might remember is when sokka goes home with zuko for the first time and he notices that zuko doesn’t take his shoes off. and he thinks to himself how stereotypically japanese-americans do take their shoes off in-doors. that line was very intentional (and it was not in any way a reflection of sokka)

another thing y’all might have noticed that when sokka met ozai he’s described as having short hair. and you might’ve gone “wtf boom, he clearly has long hair in canon” and that would’ve been a valid response. but i promise, i had a reason

so what do these two seemingly small details have in common? they’re both ways that ozai has americanized. because, in my modern au, i said hmm how can i show that ozai is a piece of trash? by making him as westernized as possible. (ozai and iroh moved to america when they were kids, iroh also embraced many american customs but ozai fully amercanized with very few exceptions)

and this will create another difference between living with ozai and living with iroh. ozai’s home obviously has all the issues of being an abusive home, but it also lacks any connection to japanese culture. so, when zuko eventually moves in with iroh, he’s actually going to speak japanese at home for the first time since childhood and partake in cultural activities that will connect him to his culture, because iroh (unlike ozai) has not abandoned the culture that iroh and ozai grew up in. (also, as i’m very upfront about, i am unfortunately white. which means 2 things. (1) i am trying my best but i do have to do more research and if anyone wants to provide me sources or is asian-american and open to questions, i would be really grateful. and (2) i’m including this aspect of the story because it was very important to me that i wasn’t just another white person going “haha high school au! let’s white-wash it!” but it’s not going to be the main focus cause i’m not the right person to tell a story centered-around being an asian-american and also because it’s a fanfic which means i get to write what i want and what i want to write is father (figure)-son relationships, friends-to-lovers, etc.)

so, you’re reading this, and you’re going okay. that was a lot of words. but you haven’t said anything about zuko’s hair which is what you said you were gonna talk about. for once, reader, i haven’t forgotten what my point is, and in fact, i am getting there

with american culture expecting men to have short hair (and often viewing men who don’t as feminine), you know ozai wouldn’t let zuko grow his hair very long. he doesn’t want his son looking like a girl. especially with zuko’s height, ozai is sure not to let it get too long. once, when they were little, one of ozai’s employees called zuko azula (as ursa had let him grow his hair down to his chin). zuko got an inpromptu haircut from an angry father that night (and a calmer trim the next morning from his mother) and his hair has never gotten much past his ears since

but once zuko is out of the hellhole that he currently calls home, he’s going to grow his hair out to be suki length and then ponytail length and maybe even longer. we’ll see. i personally think he looks best with the scruffy hair, but i don’t think he cares what i think--i think he wants to express a bit of femininity with some long hair (and if his real reason for preferring long hair is sokka braiding it? that’s between him and sokka)

i hope you enjoyed this rant about hair and culture that you didn’t ask for. i doubt many people read this whole thing cause it was looong. maybe let me know what you thought if you did read?

#wwda #ask a boomerang #aspen tag #wwda meta

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enbyleighlines · 4 years

Note

Sangcheng or Chengqing or both?

Alright! First thing’s first, this first part will seem off topic, but I swear it’s relevant!

One of the big changes in this modern cultivation au is that Wei Wuxian’s parents are still alive. Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren raise him within the Yunmeng Jiang sect, with Wei Changze acting as Jiang Fengmian’s sworn brother and advisor. Similarly, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng become sworn brothers early on in life, and view themselves as brothers.

At first it causes some tension between Yu Ziyuan and Cangse Sanren, but eventually Yu Ziyuan realizes that Cangse Sanren has no interest in her husband whatsoever and it allows the Jiang-Yu marriage to heal over time.

So! When Wei Wuxian discovers Jiang Cheng’s crush on Wen Qing, he teases him relentlessly about it in front of his mother, who tells Yu Ziyuan, who has been playing matchmaker for Jiang Cheng, to little avail. Every woman she sets him up with ends up rejecting a second date. After a bit of research, Yu Ziyuan decides to contact Wen Ruohan and set up a date between Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing.

And it goes... surprisingly well. The first few dates are a little rocky, and there are some misunderstandings, but they both keep agreeing to go out again. After all, Wen Qing and Jiang Yanli are good friends, so it’s not like Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng are strangers. Jiang Cheng already likes Wen Qing, even if he is terrible at expressing it, and Wen Qing finds herself charmed by his passionate work ethic. Most importantly, Jiang Cheng is neither intimidated nor offended by her pragmatism, which other men have called the “unfeeling, robotic” part of her personality.

Seeing that Wen Qing is not immediately rejecting her son, Yu Ziyuan puts pressure on them to get married.

Nie Huaisang, on the other hand, is living their best genderqueer life. They sometimes feel like they exist solely to be a huge disappointment to their elder brother. They show little interest in the cultivation world, and instead try to pursue the simple life of an independent artist. However, during big holidays and other events, Nie Huaisang enjoys the opportunity to catch up with old friends: Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng in particular.

When Nie Huaisang hears the news that Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing are engaged, their heart breaks. For years, they have harbored a big fat crush on Jiang Cheng. Yet they try to be strong.

It takes a lot of time and drama, but eventually an incident involving alcohol happens, and things come to a head.

Thankfully, Wen Qing is the least jealous person that has ever lived. Long story short, Nie Huaisang kind of becomes Jiang Cheng’s trophy mistress, who helps Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng out when they have to deal with complex diplomacy issues that can’t be solved through shouting matches.

They have an unconventional but strong polyamorous arrangement that suits all of their needs. Jiang Cheng gets both a clingy, affectionate lover who demands to be spoiled, and a partner who can hold her own on the battlefield and has the guts to tell him when he is being stupid. Meanwhile, Nie Huaisang gets to live a life of luxury and leisure, and Wen Qing has someone who will dote on Jiang Cheng when she needs some of her precious alone time.

Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng are both very tactile and extroverted, while Wen Qing is heavily introverted. Wen Qing can often feel overwhelmed or claustrophobic when Jiang Cheng invades her personal space too often. It’s not like she’s adverse to hugs, kisses, and all that other romantic jazz; she just has to be in the right mood.

So the three of them wind up getting along quite nicely. Wen Qing and Nie Huaisang become close friends, even.

It’s a very fortuitous arrangement for all of them.

Thank you for the ask, yet again!! And sorry for the ridiculously long response!!!

#demoiselledefortune #asks #mo dao zu shi #chengqing #sangcheng #sangchengqing

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ahs-source · 4 years

Photo

Welcome to the first Fanfiction Friday! Thank you to those who submitted all of these brilliant works! Please check out these writers and spread the love! (note: this is a long post and, as such will be tagged as #long post and #FF Friday for anyone to blacklist, if so desired).

Heavy Dirty Soul (Completed) by HadesRuinsEverything (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Reader | Tags: Slow Burn, Rape/Non-con Elements, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Past Rape/Non-con, Slow Build, Angst, Choking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Cock Warming, Possession, Blindfolds, Blasphemy, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Demonic Possession, Dark, Heavy Angst, Dialogue Heavy, Sharing a Bed, Strangers to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Chess | Completed (17/17 Chapters) | 83359 words | Canon Divergent

“There’s a lot of things I can’t give you. I always worry that’ll it’ll never be enough… That I’m not enough for you.”

He stays quiet for a bit.

“You’re enough to bring a fucking God to his knees.”

Requiem: Into the Unknown (Completed) by EmWrites4 (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Original Female Character, Michael Langdon x Original Male Character, Michael Langdon x Devan Campbell | Tags: depictions of graphic violence, Eventual Smut, Language, Blood Kink, death kink, blaspheming, Horror, Action/Adventure, Cthulhu Mythos, Trickster Gods, Accidental Voyeurism, Masturbation, Non-con cutting, Religious Discussion, Science Fiction, Supernatural Elements, Epic Bromance | Completed (9/9 chapters) | 23487 words | AU / Post-Canon Divergent

Michael Langdon, once the antichrist, was killed and transported body and soul to Hell. Demoted to Angel of Death by his Dark Father while his younger brother Devan Campbell is groomed for the throne, Michael gets a break for an island vacation to escape work and the looming threat of his brother’s reign. What he finds there is an even greater threat beyond his imagination.

stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead (Completed) by thedivinemove (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Mallory | Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Murder, Witchcraft, Antichrist, Rough Sex, Time Travel | Completed (1/1 chapters) | 4125 words | Post-Canon Fix-It

It keeps happening. They live an endless circle, even as time moves forward. She kills him, he comes back. The story repeats itself, more or less the same. They’re a snake eating its tail, a pentagram with no beginning or end.

Or: Mallory keeps reliving her nightmares. Michael gets killed. Repeatedly.

Tag, you’re it (Completed) by gelukstraan (AO3) / @stupidocupido (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Reader | Tags: Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, mastrubation, plot heavy, Bondage, Unhealthy Relationships, Stalking, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious themes, dark themes, Fluff, Angst, Cat/Mouse games, Obsession, Song Based, Degradation, Slapping, Suicide Attempt, References to Depression | Completed (2/2 chapters) | 30203 words | Post-Canon Divergent | Tumblr Link

‘Running through the parking lot, he chased me and he wouldn’t stop. Tag you’re it, tag, tag, you’re it.’

Witch!reader has an ache for her worst enemy. To get rid of this feeling she visits him in hell, but her plan does not go as she expected it to go…

turns out california is more than just a state of mind (WIP) by everythinghappensforareason17 (AO3) / @everythinghappens-love (Tumblr) Relationships: Montana Duke x Brooke Thompson x Xavier Plympton, Xavier Plympton x Brooke Thompson, Montana Duke x Brooke Thompson, Xavier Plympton x Montana Duke, Donna Chambers x Brooke Thompson | Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, Backstory, Character Study, Threesome - F/F/M, POV Alternating, Heavy Angst, Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Manipulation, Polyamory, Triggers, Hopeful Ending, Hurt No Comfort, Or little comfort, Physical Abuse, body issues, Eating Disorders, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Religion, Past Sexual Abuse, Murderers, Recreational Drug Use, Drug Addiction, First Time, Voyeurism | Last Updated: 2020-02-29 (2/? chapters) | 7424 words | Canon Divergent

(And in the end, she guessed she had. She should have known that death was better than nothingness .)

And life goes on like that for such a long time…

Brooke in the shadows, watching…waiting.

And with Montana out there, living…getting drunk… causing bar fights…doing drugs and aerobics…chasing men and women…and laughing…just laughing the night away.

And then she meets Xavier.

They’re never gonna give you love like ours

Unhallowed Wretch (WIP) by SisteroftheMoon (AO3) / @guiltyfiend (Tumblr) Relationship: Michael Langdon x Reader | Tags: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut | Last Updated: 2020-03-23 (6/? chapters) | 33757 words | AU / Period Piece

Reader is a girl who is bought from her caretaker, and sent to live with the Langdon's as a "companion" for their son, Michael. He's not the son of the Devil, but he might as well be.

“I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say.” ― Daphne duMaurier, Rebecca

waiting for a girl like you (Completed) by melodylangdon (AO3) / @melodylangdon (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Reader, Michael Langdon x Madison Montgomery | Tags: NSFW, Apocalypse, Consensual Sex, Smut, Dirty Talk (additional tags in chapter summaries) | Completed (11/11 chapters) | 30009 words | AU / Modern Day / College

Michael Langdon is a player and reader knew him when they were kids. He was rude to her but they both grew up. They go their separate ways and later cross paths again in college. Michael and the reader have a class together. She remembers him and can’t help but feel an attraction towards him. The feeling is mutual. He ends up becoming her Italian tutor and they come to know each other again. The problem is that although they are both single, Michael hooks up with a lot of girls. Will their rekindled friendship turn into something more or will they be friends with benefits?

You knew who I was with every step that I ran to Pudú (Completed) by Lobo_Steel (AO3) / @crossdressingpirate (Tumblr) Relationship: Michael Langdon x Mallory | Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Telekinesis, Clairvoyance, dream walking, Animal Transformation, Frottage, Choking, Past harm to an animal, Crack Treated Seriously, Vaginal Sex | Completed (2/2 chapters) | 10885 words | Post-Canon Divergent

Langdon stops mid-attack and looks down at her, confused. Why does he look like a giant? Mallory tries to scurry away, but something trips her up and sends her down on her stomach. Her vision is obstructed by a mass of grey. Is that my dress?! She manages to free a limb, sees fur, and screams.

Oh God, oh God, holy shit!

She’s got hooves.

Mallory wriggles the rest of the way out of her fabric prison and spins in a tight circle, trying to see her body. She catches a glimpse of four stubby legs and reddish-brown fur with spots.

WHAT IN THE EVERLIVING FUCK—

A big hand seizes her by the scruff of the neck and gives her a hard shake.

Thank you for participating and submitting in works for our first every Fanfiction Fridays! We will upkeep this every Friday (so long as we get submissions) to continue celebrating the great diversity of writers in our community. Please continue sending submissions to ahs-source.tumblr.com/submit or through the Tumblr mobile app. *As a reminder, any and all characters and their pairings can be submitted, so long as the pairing includes a character from American Horror Story!

*PSA to Writers: If you wish to have your work or Tumblr username removed, or want something changed, please notify us and we will remove/change it immediately (usernames were found on AO3 user pages). All works are listed in alphabetical order using information found from the source page of the work. *PSA to Submitters: Some authors were submitted more than once, we will save those praises for next week (meaning your submissions were not ignored - thank you for being so enthusiastic about certain authors)! *PSA to Everyone: If there are any improvements we could make on how we present this information or how/when it’s posted, please let us know!

#American Horror Story #American Horror Story Fanfiction #AHS Fanfiction #Fanfiction #Michael Langdon x Reader #Michael Langdon x Mallory #Xavier Plympton x Brooke Thompson #Xavier Plympton x Montana Duke #Montana Duke x Brooke Thompson x Xavier Plympton #Donna Chambers x Brooke Thompson #Michael Langdon x Madison Montgomery #Michael Langdon x Original Female Character #Michael Langdon x Original Male Character #Michael Langdon x Devan Campbell #AHS: Apocalypse #AHS: 1984 #Alternate Universes #long post #FF Friday

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krreader · 5 years

Text

BTS scenario (Mafia!AU) → arranged marriage.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; mafia!au ; language genre: angst ; fluff ; hints of smut

a/n: thaaank you love and I hope you like it!

kim seokjin

This wasn't what Jin had wanted either. He had imagined his life differently too, but he never had much of a choice and neither did you.

You were the children of mafia bosses. Two bosses that finally wanted to unite and what better way to form an alliance than by marriage.

You and him hadn't even spoken ten words with each other before you had to say 'I do' and now was the wedding night and all you did was sit on the balcony and bawl your eyes out.

You weren't scared that he might force you to do something you didn't want to do, your father taught you how to fight years ago, but you were just so.. lonely in that moment, despite having gotten married today.

Jin thought about whether or not he should just leave you alone, but if you wanted this to work in some way, you needed to set some things straight first.

So he stepped out on the balcony and sat down next to you, leaving enough space as to not make you uncomfortable, though.

He didn't say anything for a while, he waited until your sobs eventually quieted down and you wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks.

“I'm sorry about all of this,” Jin said truthfully, not looking at you, but at the setting sun, “I didn't want this either.”

“I know,” you nodded and pulled your legs closer to your chest.

You were both forced into this marriage after all.

“But.. I want you to know that I'd never do anything to hurt you, even if I probably couldn't. You don't seem like the type of woman to be pushed around.”

That made you chuckle a little and nod, “Yeah, you got that right.”

“I want to get to know you, though.. maybe we can be friends at one point and maybe we can find a way to make this work.. for our families’ sake.”

You grew up knowing that you'd take over for your fathers one day. You wanted to be good leaders. So what Jin proposed wasn't a bad idea.. and the sound of at least being friends with him was a good one.

“Maybe we can,” you finally turned your head to smile at him and so did he.

It was one filled with hope.

min yoongi

“She won't come out,” Yoongi's father said when they tried to open the door to your wardrobe.

“Can you blame her?” Yoongi muttered under his breath, but then just shrugged when his father looked at him angrily.

“(Y/N),” your mother tried, “Sweetheart, come on, this is your big day.”

“Leave me alone! I don't want to get married!”

“See, she hates it too, so why do we have to do this?”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” his father hissed, taking a step closer to the door, “(Y/N), love.. we've known each other for years, haven't we? And you know Yoongi since you were a little girl.. it's not that bad, don't you think?”

“I don't care that I know him or you.. I want to choose who I marry myself. I don't want you guys decide for me. This is my life!”

“I told you this would happen,” your mother said angrily, but your father seemed to have enough of this and one of his men kicked in the door.

You didn't even flinch when they did it, you just crossed your arms in front of your chest and pouted, still wearing your sweatpants.

“No.”

“(Y/N), get dressed.” your father threatened, Yoongi strolling in behind him with his hands buried in the pockets of his pants.

“At least let her wear whatever the hell she wants. If you take away our decision of who we want to be with, then at least let us wear what we're comfortable with.”

It wasn't what you wanted, but it made you smile nevertheless, especially because of how angry this made your mother. She had imagined her only daughter to wear the expensive dress she had bought for you..

And then it made the rest of the people in the room even angrier when Yoongi took off his jacket and slipped his hoodie over his head that was also in this room.

“Come on, let's get this over with,” he held out his hand to you and you took it.

You knew that you'd have to get married to him in the end, but at least you did it on your own terms in your Adidas sweatpants and sneakers to say: fuck you.

jung hoseok

“Dude, your wife is smoking hot,” Hoseok had invited his friends over for the first time since him and you had gotten married.

“I know right? I'm the luckiest guy on earth.”

All of them were eyeing you like you were their next meal, but all of them knew that if they even thought about doing more than that, Hoseok would cut off their hands and dicks.

They were having a poker night and you had made them snacks, sitting in the living room and reading while you waited for them to be done and leave again, like the fantastic wife that you were.

And as you both said your goodbye's later that night, Hoseok's hand rested on your lower back.

But once the doors were closed, he turned around right away and walked up the stairs without another word.

It was a facade.

One that your parents made you play because it was best for your families.

But you didn't even like each other, you just pretended as if you did.

You never talked to each other or looked at each other if you didn't have to. You slept in separate bedrooms, didn't share meals with each other and didn't spend time with each other whatsoever, unless it was absolutely necessary.

And you doubted that would change anytime soon.

The fact that you were pregnant with his kid didn’t change anything.. for either of you.

kim namjoon

These arranged marriages that you always see in movies.. you had always thought that they wouldn't exist in this modern day and age anymore.

Your older siblings had all found random partners, so it came as a surprise when your father announced that you'd have to marry Kim Namjoon, son of your father's enemy, to form a truce between your families.

And so that's how you ended up in this meeting room, Namjoon sitting across from you and being unsure of what to say or do.

“My father told me a lot about you,” you tried to be nice, tried to break the ice, “You seem like a nice man.”

“I haven't killed anyone yet if that's what you want to know,” Namjoon shifted in his chair, “My father wanted me to many times, but.. I don't like killing.”

“That's.. unusual for people in this line of work.”

“I didn't choose this life. I was born into it.”

He was smart, you could tell. And you liked that a lot. Most men you had to deal with were complete idiots who thought killing was a sport.

So maybe this wouldn't be as bad as you thought it would be.

“I think I like you,” you smiled.

“You don't know me.”

“I'd like to change that though..”

Namjoon thought you were a lot worse than this.. but he was glad that he had been wrong.

park jimin

“Are you sure about this?” Jimin asked, one hand on the gear shift, the other on the wheel, but his eyes were on you.

“I am.”

The issue wasn't the arranged marriage that you had already gone through with last week, Jimin and you had liked each other even before this topic had come up.

The issue was everything that came afterwards.

Your fathers wanted to unite your families to found one big mafia group and you and Jimin were supposed to be the leaders.

But you didn't want that. You both hated this life and if you ever were lucky enough to have children, you didn't want them to be raised like you and him were raised.

So even though it was risky, you decided to run away together.

You drove and you drove and you drove until you were in a place that was hard to find even for the both of you. It wasn't a big house, it wasn't what you were used to, but it would be safe.. safe for you to lead a normal life and to raise your children – the two that you ended up having – without them being born into a life of killing and horror.

kim taehyung

“Great, so you're telling me I have to marry this self-absorbed wannabe god?”

“Is she talking about me?” Taehyung whispered to his father.

“Listen, (Y/N).. we've been trying to form an alliance for months, you're the first one that Taehyung is interested in and we've run out of candidates. And.. well, your father is more than up for it.”

“So what? I'm against it.”

“I don't care,” your father added, “This is the best thing that could have happened to our family, (Y/N). He will bring men, guns and money and we need all of this.”

“And what does he get?”

“Hopefully a son,” Taehyung's father grinned, “Even though we appreciate daughters as well, so don't worry about that.”

“Ah, so you want me to be his baby making machine, yeah?”

“I like you because you seem like you care,” Taehyung interfered before any of your fathers could speak again, “You have four younger siblings that you raised since your mother died. I want someone that I know can take care of children, because once I have them, once.. my wife and I do, I want the children to be the most important thing in our lives. I don't want you to be a baby making machine, I'd be happy with just one child. I just want someone that I know I can count on.. always and forever. Someone that will be my partner through everything.. someone that cares. And that’s not easy to find in this line of work.”

He definitely knew how to wrap you around your finger.

You did love children, you loved taking care of them, you were so used to it with your siblings..

..and he talked like if you'd get pregnant, he'd take the best care of you you could hope for.

You knew that you’d have to get married eventually and it seemed like he was the best candidate your father could have chosen after all.

And well, guess what? Nine months after your marriage he proved to you that he wasn't just the best father in the world, but he turned into the best husband too.

It wasn't what you had wanted initially, but he made good on his word.

jeon jeongguk

“Have you got any idea who I am?” you leaned over the table and narrowed your eyes, “What I can do to you if I wanted to?”

Jeongguk gulped down hard and had to force himself not to look to your lips, but.. he failed miserably. He even ended up biting down hard on his own lower lip.

“Is it bad that I'm getting hard right now?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Your eyes darted down, then back up to him with a grin.

“You're a little puppy, aren't you?”

“N..- No.”

Actually, the contrary, but you were intimidating and he had never seen someone like you.

You had been so against this marriage, because you didn't want someone who desperately tried to prove to you that he wore the pants in the relationship.

But Jeongguk wasn't like that.

He liked to be dominated every once in a while and he liked it if you took command, in your private life, but especially when working.

That's why your marriage ended up working so well.. because you needed someone like him and he needed someone like you.

#bts imagine #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #requests

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thebrochtuarachs · 5 years

Text

Arranged: Chapter 5

Modern AU. Set in 2018. Where Claire and Jamie are arranged to be married.

CH: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

AO3

A/N: In celebration of my 25th birthday, I am finally updating this fic! Hope you like it and so excited to share the coming chapters ahead! _____________________________

Monday rolled out and she hadn’t heard from either Jamie and Frank over the weekend.

Frank did warn her that communications will be hard as being in remote areas during his excavation project in Egypt and she really didn’t expect much from Jamie since they agreed to keep discussions off about their arrangement during weekends. It should’ve soothed her mind but she jumped between feeling calm and restless as the weekend passed by.

As a woman of science, Claire relied on logic in dealing with issues in her life and more than not, logic helps her arrive in a viable and proper decision. However, being in a relationship is more than quantifiable facts and figures. It involves – should involve – a matter of heart and emotion that she will have to take into consideration.

On one end, the choice should was clear – Frank. Although they have only been going out barely a month, at least, to her - them, they were official. He was older with a stable career, more mature – sometimes too much – but she can get on with it. But more importantly, he likes her enough to actually pursue her even at the risk of his job.

But then last week, she went home for dinner only for her family to announce that they were arranging a marriage for her to her childhood friend who she hasn’t seen in the past half year. She was definitely angry and confused at the beginning, however, she couldn’t deny that continuously spending time with Jamie the past three days have been entirely pleasant, even if it was in the most common and domestic situations. It surprised her to feel that what she looked forward to the most was the time of day they’ve scheduled just for themselves at the cafe. She couldn’t lie to herself and not say that Jamie was somehow in her emotional mix now regardless of how that came to be.

It was unchartered territory to her and she was definitely unsure what the outcome will be and that heightened her anxiety a different level.

Claire shook her head and refocused her mind on her classes instead as she drove on her way to school. The day went by fairly normal. Not hearing from either men didn’t trigger anything and she was thankful for that, saving her energy now that she was on the way to the café to meet up with Jamie.

As she walked to the parking lot, she heard voices from behind one of the larger vehicles that kept the group of men hidden from plain view. Despite that, she heard one voice that was entirely too familiar. One would think that living in Scotland for most her life that everyone’s accent would be the same but Jamie’s voice registers uniquely to her.

She paused, waiting to hear what was going on. She peeked at the situation but didn’t intervene.

“Let him go, Grant.” Jamie said warningly.

“What will ye do then, Fraser?”

“Ye coward, picking up on someone ye know canna fight ye fairly.” Jamie dwelled for a moment before declaring. “I’ll fight ye.”

“Jamie, no!” a person unfamiliar to Claire pleaded back. “Let them do as they wish to me.”

“No, no, no.” Malcolm Grant said. “Tis’ an offer I canna pass. Finally having a chance to give the famous Jamie Fraser a piece of this.” Malcolm held up his fist but Claire saw Jamie unbothered.

Malcolm shoved Jamie’s friend to the side and when Claire saw his difficulty getting up, it became clear to her what Jamie meant by fighting fairly. Ian wore a prosthetic on his right leg.

Her thoughts abruptly stopped once she heard the sound of a punch landing on the face. Malcolm and Jamie didn’t waste time getting at it with Jamie getting the upper hand because of his size and strength. He landed two punches that sent Malcolm at a distance but then two of his groupies suddenly appeared from nowhere and it was now a 3-on-1 battle.

“This is our fight, Grant. Ask yer men to leave”

Malcolm ticked his tongue. “Awww, since when was I fair on anything, Fraser?” he remarked, smirking at the upper hand he now has. “Get him” he ordered and his guys held Jamie by the arms, rendering him at a great disadvantage. Jamie’s friend tried to join the fight but his prosthetic was easily deformed by Malcolm that left him to watch Jamie deal with it all by himself.

Jamie tried to fight off the two men but it was to no avail. Malcolm came close to him, patting his cheek. “Such shame to destroy this pretty face”

Then everything happened quickly thereafter. With Jamie helpless, Grant threw one punch to his face, then to his stomach, and the last straight to his nose that caused him to bleed profusely.

Everything happened so fast that it took Claire a second to react and interrupted them.

“What the hell is this?! You better leave or I am calling the police?” she made herself known with the threat.

“And who might you be, pretty lass?” Malcolm asked, definitely interested in the lady that has arrived.

“Claire – leave…“ was all Jamie managed to say as he heaved, recovering from the punch.

“So the pretty lass has a name. Claire…beautiful” he started walking towards her and Jamie tried to get away again but Malcolm’s guys were fast and held him off.

“Stop right there.” Claire commanded as she pulled at her phone and started dialing.

“Okay, okay.” Malcolm raised his hand and backed off. “Come on ye two.”

“Really boss?!” One of them inquired.

“Ye, ye.”

The two men shoved Jamie towards where his friend was and the three started walking away. Malcolm turned around, looking at Claire with a smug face. “This isna the last ye’ll see of me…Claire”

Claire all but ran to Jamie’s side, checking up on his condition. “You’ve broken your nose”, she assessed while trying to see any other injuries.

“I’m fine.” Jamie said, standing up and then turning to his friend to help him up too.

“No, you’re not. You’re bleeding, you bloody Scot! Come on, we need to get you to the clinic to fix that nose…”

“Claire Beauchamp, this is Ian Murray. Ian Murray, Claire Beauchamp.” Jamie interrupted her with his introductions.

“Hello, Ian.” She turned to him, checking him up to. “How’s the leg?”

Ian’s brows rose in surprise then his eyes drooped in embarrassment. “I am sorry.”

“Whatever are you sorry for?” Claire said, hoping that her message came to Ian in kind and not in spite.

“How did ye know?” Ian asked.

“Just by observation, nothing to worry about.”

“I think Grant hit the mechanism when he shoved me. We really need to go to the clinic.” Ian explained and Jamie groaned at the inevitable.

The three of them walked awkwardly towards the clinic while Claire repeatedly reprimanded Jamie under her breath. “Being punched three times, broke a nose and says he’s bloody fine...”

Jamie laughed that sent more blood to ooze from his not but he didn’t care.

“Don’t laugh! Who were those guys anyway?” she asked.

“Ach, no one, Sassenach.”

“They’re the Grants.” Ian answered instead. “They love to bully me around uni but Jamie wouldn’t allow them to no matter how many times I asked him to stay away from it.”

“Why to they pick on you?”

“Er, the obvious I guess.” Ian explained.

“Just for that?”

“Eh,” Ian just shrugged as they finally arrive at the clinic.

The nurses didn’t waste time fixing Jamie up as soon as they saw the bloody mess on his face. When asked how he broke his nose, Jamie explained that he fell off the stairs. The nurses raised an eyebrow in skepticism then looked at Ian and Claire for confirmation. They just nodded because if they knew the real reason, it might cause something else they don’t want to deal with.

It took less than half an hour for the nurses to fix Jamie’s nose and cuts and for Ian’s leg to be working again and they were out with strict orders of rest and fluids.

“I’ll see you home, Jamie.” Ian offered but Jamie refused.

“No, tis’ alright, Ian. Ye ken we live on opposite sides of the city plus I’m fine, really and home is just a bus ride away”

“I wouldn’t mind”

“No, and tis that. Go home, Ian. I’ll see ye tomorrow.” Jamie patted Ian in the shoulder in assurance.

“If ye say so. Head home, too, and rest. You’re more banged up than I am.” Ian returned the gesture and turned to Claire. “Tis nice to meet ye, Claire. I just hoped it was in better circumstances.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’ll see you around.”

Ian left the opposite direction leaving Claire and Jamie to deal with themselves.

“I dinna think I can go to our wee meeting today, Sassenach. My head’s a bit woozy right now” Jamie turned to Claire sheepishly, trying to scratch a small itch on his nose but hissed when he touched a sensitive area.

“I’ll take you home, Jamie” she offered.

“No, ye dinna have to do that, Claire.”

“Please. I brought my car today so it’s no bother really.” she countered, not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

“Alright, I dinna want to argue wi’ anyone anymore today.”

The drive to Jamie’s was silent, mostly because Jamie dozed off during the ride. When they arrive at the Frasers, Ellen asked the same questions as the nurse at school and also turned to Claire for confirmation to story they all know not to be true.

“Claire, if you could settle my son at the living room, I’ll get some ice from the kitchen.”

“Mam, ye dinna have to bother…”

Ellen Fraser only have to give Jamie a look for him to follow her orders and Claire giggled.

“Don’t laugh, my mam is going to have my hide no matter how grown up I am” Jamie chastised humorly.

“How are you going to explain this one away?”

“I dinna ken, maybe stay silent until she just gives up?”

“Like that’s going to work on Aunt Ellen”

Jamie gave a scottish grunt just as his mother entered the room, handing Jamie a pack of frozen peas.

“Must be some slippery stairs for you to fall face first and break your nose, my son.”

“Aye, tis”

“Your father and I will love for you to regale that tale over dinner. Claire, my dear, will you be joining us for dinner as well?”

“Oh? I - uhm..”

Jamie looked at her with pleading eyes to stay and help him get through his family’s questioning.

“Let me just call my mom” Claire took out her phone, dialed home and after a few minutes. “I’m free for dinner”

“Fantastic! Now, I’ll leave you two kids to fend for yourselves. Dinner will be ready in a few hours”

Ellen Fraser left for the kitchen and Jamie stretched on the sofa, tending to his swollen face. The silence stretched and Claire wasn’t really sure how to go about it. She never really had a reason to stay long at the Fraser’s house unless it was one of their family dinners and it was definitely a long time since she stayed over their house for no reason at all. It wasn’t uncomfortable, she just didn’t know what else to do.

“Claire” Jamie turned to her, breaking her thoughts and sensing her slight uneasiness. “Do ye still know how to ride?”

“Of course, I do”

“Would ye like to look around the estate?”

“Sure”

It was a lovely afternoon for a ride and Jamie was pleased that the horse he’s chosen was immediately taken to Claire. She’s a natural rider, he observed and he was glad that she looked to be enjoying herself.

They reached the farther ends of the property, going to areas they’d frequent before as kids - the river they’d sneak off to in the summer, the treehouse fort they’d only let their parents enter with a password, the pond they’d skate around during the winter. They talked about memories of their childhood until they found themselves at the top of a hill, watching the sun fall from the horizon.

Claire dismounted first and walked towards the huge oak tree near the edge. Jamie dismounted after her but only took the reigns of her horse and let her wander towards the edge.

“It’s beautiful. Why don’t I remember this place? Haven’t I been here before?” Claire asked in succession and Jamie just stayed silent. He had planned on taking here there a long time ago to tell her of his intentions to court her but timing always never felt right until it was too late and he found out about Frank Randall.

“We hadn’t rode this far before.” he excused.

“Well, I’ll definitely come back and visit this place. Just look at this view! The endless rolling hills!” Claire excitedly proclaimed as she took out her phone and took a photo. Once the task was done, she turned around to head back to Jamie and her horse. And in that moment as she walked, the sun perfectly aligned behind her, creating a silhouette that took Jamie’s breath away.

Ah, dhia. She is beautiful.

Surprising even himself, he had enough awareness to hand her back her horse and ride away without getting too caught up in the situation.

A few minutes later the house was in view and they were depositing the horses back in the stables.

“Thank you for the ride. I haven’t had the chance in a long while, I almost forgot how much I loved it. I know I should be studying or doing our research but this is way more fun and relaxing. A nice break, is it not?”

“Glad you enjoyed it, Sassenach. Tis’ my pleasure.”

From the back door of the kitchen, Ellen called out that dinner was ready.

Jamie and Claire settled their horses and before Jamie could muster what was happening, Claire shoved passed him and started running like a child towards the house.

“Tag! Last one to the house is the loser, Fraser!” Claire called out and they were off to the races, she with the headstart but Jamie not far behind her. Their laughs echoed throughout the deserted field and it was just like they were 7 and 9 again. Jamie fought the urge not to tackle or hug her from behind resulting in his loss.

“Wash yer hands before ye proceed to the table” Ellen ordered upon the duo’s entry. Claire continued her victory cheer as she headed for the sink to clean up. Ellen Fraser greeted her son by the door, gave him a smirk and then tousled his hair to disarray to which Jamie only happily rolled his eyes.

Thankfully, Jamie’s parents didn’t push him enough to explain the bruises he has but let it slide for the time being, happy that he’s home and safe.

Dinner had been a lovely affair for the foursome. Ellen and Brian regaled childhood memories of Jamie and Claire’s, laughing and embarrassing them both to no end.

“Let me just get us another bottle” Ellen stood and Jamie followed his mam to help her.

In the recess of the kitchen, Ellen turned to her son who was reaching for another bottle of wine.

“Tis’ nice having dinner with Claire.” Ellen remarked, leaning on the counter.

“Ye have dinner with her once a month, mam, for the past 20 years. Ye’ve known her all yer life.” he retorted.

“True, but tonight, seeing ye and her, getting to know the woman she is and becoming” Ellen sighed. “I love that girl like she was my own daughter, ye ken. But now, I really wish she was my daughter, if ye get my meaning”

Jamie turned around to give his mother an exasperated look but was stopped in his tracks when his mother produced a small, black velvet box from her pocket.

“Mam..”

“It would give me great pleasure if ye gave this to her.” holding up Jamie’s hand and pressing the box to his keeping.

“Our situations complicated enough..” Jamie said as he tried to hand it back to his mother.

“I’m no asking ye to give it to her tonight. Just...” she paused, raised one hand to his cheek to get his attention. ”hold on to it, aye?”

Unbeknown to the two, Claire had been watching the entire scene unfold through a small opening in the kitchen door. Brian had asked her to follow them to request for the cake as well when she heard their conversation.

She meant to show herself sooner but when Ellen produced the ring box, she was frozen on the spot. She watched Jamie try to refuse it but to no avail. Aunt Ellen didn’t mean to pressure Jamie either, it seems, much to her relief. However, she couldn’t deny the small curiosity in what is beneath it.

Claire shook her head and pushed the thoughts away. As she saw Jamie place the box in his pocket, Claire entered the kitchen asking for dessert.

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redisriding · 4 years

Text

The Right Swipe - Chapter Seven

A Court of Thorns and Roses Modern AU Fanfic

All character’s belong to the wonderful Sarah J Maas.

Tag List: @superspiritfestival @duskandstarlight @perseusannabeth @courtofjurdan @omg-aelin @keshavomit @rainbowcheetah512 @queenestarcheron @mis-lil-red

“Are you nervous about tonight?”

“Of course!”

“Why?”

“I want you to like them.”

“Feyre,” Tamlin said, catching her wrist to stop her as they walked along the street towards the Weaver’s Cottage.

Feyre looked up at her tall, handsome boyfriend. He had dressed impeccably tonight, in a dark navy suit and crisp white shirt. His golden hair was pulled back into a long ponytail. He radiated control. Totally at odds with the jittery nervousness that Feyre knew she exuded. She placed her hands on those broad shoulders of his, to centre herself.

“I am going to love your sisters. They’re your family, and I love you very much.”

A thrill went through Feyre at those words. They were still so new to them. Whispered in bed for the first time only a few nights ago.

She hadn’t known what love felt like until she met Tamlin, but now she knew for sure that was what she felt.

It was electric.

Like standing on the edge of a cliff about to jump and not know whether you were going to plunge into the icy depths below or soar into the sky. It was the adrenaline that kept her on edge.

It was what it felt to be alive.

She smiled back at Tamlin, “You truly are the best, you know that, don’t you? I cannot put into words how you make me feel. I love you.”

“I think you just did,” Tamlin said with a chuckle, before leaning down and pressing his lips lightly to hers.

Feyre broke the kiss a moment later, swatting away his handsy protests. “Come on now,” she said, linking her arm through his, “Let’s go meet my sisters.”

Thankfully, they were the first to arrive. It allowed them to get settled at the table, and for Feyre to order a large glass of wine before Elain appeared, followed soon after by Nesta.

Introductions were made, Tamlin graciously kissing both sisters on the cheek while Feyre swept both her sisters into hugs. “He’s very handsome,” Elain had whispered in Feyre’s ear while they embraced.

The conversation that followed once everyone was seated was polite if awkward. Everyone muttered general comments about how good the food looked and what they were debating ordering.

Feyre knew a cross examination of Tamlin was coming, but her sisters held off at least until the food was ordered.

As soon as the waiter had disappeared, did Nesta begin her assault.

“Tamlin, Feyre tells me you work for Spring Court Developments?”

“I own the company actually.”

“Wow, that seems like an impressive thing to have achieved for someone so young.”

“I started working straight out of college and worked my way up.” Tamlin’s hand found Feyre’s leg, he began brushing lazy strokes up and down her thigh.

“You didn’t inherent the company from your father?”

“Well I—.”

“I thought I recognised your family name, and then when Feyre told me who you worked for…”

“I work for myself, Spring Court Developments is my company.”

“Gifted to you by Daddy.”

“My father trained me from a young age. It was always his intention that I would take over the company as my own.”

“That’s still very different from building the company up from the ground on your own, like you told Feyre.”

Tamlin’s hand stilled on Feyre’s leg. “Spring Court Developments has expanded exponentially under my command.”

“Perhaps, but if it weren’t for your father’s money you would not be in the position you are now.”

His fingers began digging into the flesh of her upper thigh. “I’m not going to apologise for the hard work of my parents.”

“The hard work of your parents is not the issue in question here.”

Tamlin’s lip curled up into a snarl.

Feyre knew he was holding his temper on a short leash.

Perhaps, gripping it as tightly as he gripped her leg.

Feyre tried covertly to shake him off, she was going to have bruises tomorrow if he didn’t realise his hold soon. But Tamlin remained oblivious to her attempts to escape his grasp.

“Tamlin,” she hissed but he didn’t notice.

His attention was focused totally on Nesta, the vain in his forehead twitching.

“If you are suggesting that I am some sort of wastrel who just lives off my parent’s money and does no work of my own, you are sorrily mistaken.” His voice was controlled, icy, but there was no mistaking the rage that bubbled just beneath.

“I—.”

Tamlin didn’t pause to listen to Nesta’s comeback. “If that were the case, then I would have run my father’s company into the ground by now, instead, I think you will find that Spring Court Developments is thriving. It is a very different beast from the company my father started all those years ago, but I promise you it is very much my company.”

Elain and Feyre exchanged a worried look, as Nesta took another swing. “Do you think your father would be proud of what you’ve turned his company into?”

The growl Tamlin emitted wasn’t enough to stop her though. “The company your father started all those years ago focused on building affordable houses for young families in a growing city. The company his that son runs today is more concerned with forcing those very families out of their homes so the land can be used to build condos for business men who don’t even live here.”

Something like realisation flashed across Tamlin’s face, reducing his boiling temper to a simmer he could once again exert control over. “And whom, may I ask, do you work for?”

“Amren and Associates.”

“Lawyers.” Tamlin breathed, sitting back in his chair.

Feyre frowned, looking between Nesta and Tamlin. Clearly there was more going on in this conversation than she understood. She made a mental note to ask Tamlin about it later.

The waiters appeared at their table with their starters, giving Feyre the perfect opportunity to change the direction of the conversation.

“Elain,” she said, louder than she had anticipated, but both Nesta and Tamlin’s focus snapped to her, “tell us about your date last night.”

“Oh yes!” Elain’s face lit up, blushing slightly as she picked at her food. “Last night was my second date with Lucien. It went really well.”

“What did you guys do?” Nesta asked, her attention now focused on Elain, she ignored Tamlin who continued to brood in her direction.

“It was so lovely, he brought me for a walk through the Velaris botanical gardens so we could watch the sunset and then we went and got Italian food.”

“Brought you to the botanics? It sounds like he has been really paying attention when you talk,” Feyre said.

Elain blushed, “I had told him that I loved the botanical gardens, but I don’t think he realised quite how much until we got there.”

“Did you go all Elain on him?”

“All Elain?” Tamlin asked.

“I can’t help it, I see flowers and I just start spilling everything I know about them,” Elain said.

“That must have been quite boring for him,” Tamlin said, taking a bite of his roll.

Nesta’s head shot around to look at him, her mouth open as if she was going to rebut his comment, but she caught the warning look the Feyre shot her in time and refrained from saying anything.

Elain frowned. “I don’t think he was bored…at least he pretended to look interested.”

“Some men will do anything to get laid.”

Elain put down her fork and blinked at Tamlin, “We haven’t had sex.”

“But he wants to.”

Elain blushed furiously, whatever she was about to say next died on her tongue as her mouth opened and closed like a fish.

It was Nesta who jumped in, “Is that why you got Feyre her job, so she’d sleep with you.”

Tamlin swallowed what he was chewing, shaking his head. “No, don’t you listen?”

Feyre froze at the tone he used towards her sister. Nesta too had gone ridged, it was shock, Feyre was sure, at being spoken to like that, that prevented Nesta from replying.

The gap in conversation however allowed Tamlin to continue. “I said, some men are like that, but not all men.”

“I don’t think Lucien is like that,” Elain murmured but Tamlin ignored her.

“I knew when I met Feyre that she would have slept with me if I asked. She was clearly the kind of girl you could get into bed if you bought her dinner.”

Feyre’s head whipped to look at Tamlin. She never knew that he thought about her in such a derogatory manner, let alone speak out loud about her like that…and to her family. It was mortifying. Tears sprang to her eyes.

But Tamlin continued, “I’m a very spiritual man, I listen to a podcast series by a priestess, her name is Ianthe, you probably don’t know her. The podcasts are for women but I find I get a great deal out of them. I learn about how women think, how they feel, and how I can attune myself to the needs of women.”

Nesta stared at Tamlin, blinking, clearly trying to suppress a laugh.

Feyre felt hot, her breath shaky as the tears still burned at her eyes.

“One of Ianthe’s seminal works is about only giving yourself sexually to those who you connect with spiritually. I knew within moments of meeting Feyre that she was someone I could give myself to in every way.” He looked down at Feyre then, with that soft smile and loving eyes that cracked something in Feyre’s chest. The hurt that she felt immediately disappeared, and as Tamlin’s hand began moving on Feyre’s thigh again, the sticky heat became something altogether more pleasant.

“I practice what is called no fap.”

Nesta choked on the water she had been taking a sip of in an attempt to regain her composure.

“What is that?” Elain asked.

“I abstain from masturbation.” Tamlin said plainly, “So that first night, when I spilled my gentlemen's mayonnaise into your sister, it was like being elevated to another plane of existence.”

Nesta seemed to be having some sort of break down, her eyes wide, she gawked at Tamlin, her mouth appeared to be forming the words “gentlemen’s mayonnaise” over and over.

Elain meanwhile had turned a shade of puce.

There was a long pause, before Feyre decided to push through the awkwardness. With a long drink from her wine glass she launched into an excruciatingly detailed monologue about her day in the gallery. When she finally finished, the main course had arrived and normal, first meeting, chitchat resumed. Everyone was keen to stay away from topics that risked igniting tempers again.

As the waiters cleared their main course, Nesta turned to Elain and asked, “So what about the other guy you were seeing, is Lucien in the lead at the moment?”

“Azriel?” Elain shook her head, “No, he’s still very much in contention. We’re actually having dinner together at the weekend.”

“So you’re finally going to meet your mysterious man?”

“Yes, although he’s hardly mysterious at this point. I feel like I know him with how much we talk.”

“Do you know where he’d taking you yet?”

“No not yet, he said he’d send me the address before hand. I think he wants it to be a surprise.”

“Make sure you turn your location on, so I can see where you are.”

“I always do.”

“I just worry about you, especially when you’re with strange men from the internet.”

“A bit of a slut are you, Elain?” Tamlin’s words cracked like a whip through the air. Tempers which had cooled during the course of their dinner immediately reignited.

“How dare you speak to my sister like that,” Nesta hissed, her top lip curling back to expose her teeth.

“It would explain why you look like that,” Tamlin said, gesturing to Elain.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Nesta was on her feet now, voice rising. People at other tables looked over to see what the disturbance was.

“Let’s not make a scene now Nesta,” Tamlin said condescendingly.

“How dare you! You know, I let the stuff earlier slide because you were talking about Feyre, disgusting as it was, it’s your relationship and who am I to get involved in that, but to speak to Elain like that, when you don’t even know her—.”

“Oh please, pretend all you like that you’re defending your sister’s honour when we both know—.”

“You disgust me,” she said drawing herself up to full height to sneer down at him, “Feyre, you know I love you, and I know that I can’t tell you how to live you life, but I refuse to sit here and listen to this for another moment. I’m leaving.” Grabbing her bag, Nesta pivoted on her heel and stormed out of the restaurant.

“Very dramatic your sister,” Tamlin said, watching her go.

“Emmm…I think I might go after her,” Elain whispered.

Feyre just nodded at Elain, how could she allow her sisters to be spoken to like that and by the man that she loved. They didn’t deserve that, especially not Elain, after everything she’d been through.

True, Tamlin didn’t know about that stuff, but it was still at best a reckless thing for him to say. At worst, it was cruel.

It would be a wonder if his words didn’t send Elain into another downward spiral, and just when she seemed to be pulling herself up from the depths.

Nesta was right to storm out. Feyre only hoped that the sisters would lean on each other for support tonight.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” Elain whispered as she kissed Feyre on the cheek, her hand stroking her hair.

“Okay,” Feyre whispered, unsure of her ability to form a complete sentence, to say what she wanted to say to Elain, to comfort her, without breaking down completely.

Elain gave Tamlin a curt nod, which as Elain went, was as good as sticking her middle finger in his face, before hurrying out of the restaurant.

After a moment’s calm, a waiter appeared to check if everything was okay.

Tamlin ordered a banoffee pie for dessert.

They sat in terse silence as Tamlin ate it.

Bite by painfully slow bite.

“Your sister’s are certainly spirited,” Tamlin finally said, after they eventually left the restaurant.

Feyre trailed behind him as they walked down the street to where he had parked his car. Her leg hurt from where he had dug his fingers into it during that first confrontation with Nesta. It had been almost dead when she first stood up after Tamlin had, after what seemed like eons, decided it was time to go home.

Now she couldn’t keep up with his long strides.

“Oh for heavens sake Feyre, hurry up,” he snapped when he realised she was behind him.

“I—.” Her voice died on her lips, as he turned around to wait on her. One eyebrow raised in question. In challenge.

Feyre took a deep breath to steady herself, for a moment she felt brave standing up to Tamlin, “You hurt me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Feyre, I didn’t hurt you.”

“You did, when you gripped my leg earlier it really hurts, and I know it’s going to bruise tomorrow so don’t tell me you didn’t hurt me when I can’t walk.”

Tamlin’s eyes went wide, he was in front of her in two strides, cupping her face in his hands pressing kisses to the corners of her mouth. “Feyre, baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never hurt you. It was an accident.”

The tears that Feyre had held back all night suddenly began flowing down her cheeks.

“Shhh, Feyre please don’t cry.”

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” she hiccuped, “but you did.”

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to. I would never hurt you baby, you mean everything to me.”

It was all coming out now, the confession that he had hurt her, the tears that she had repressed all night. She needed to get it all out. “Why were you so awful to my sisters?”

“Nesta was very rude to me.”

Feyre frowned, thinking back on the evening. Was Nesta rude? Or was she just being her brutally blunt self? “She wasn’t rude, she was looking out for me. She wanted to get to know you and to understand your intentions with me.”

“My intentions with you…Feyre, I didn’t want to do this now, or here.”

“What?”

In one moment Tamlin was standing in front of Feyre, his hands holding her face gently as he wiped the tears from under her eyes. The next he was on the ground, kneeling in front of her, pulling a little black box from the inside of his jacket.

Someone shrieked in the distance.

Feyre didn’t realise what was happening until he flipped open the lid to reveal the biggest diamond she had ever seen.

Could he be?

No!

Surely not?

“Marry me Feyre.”

#the right swipe #acotar fanfiction

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