#i don't want to even tag this cinderella in case when I watch it i realize it is just as bad as people said

[adarkrainbow]

I have been sharing things about French fairytale movies. We have been talking about Cinderella. As such I want to speak about a movie I actually can't really speak about because I have not seen it... But I need to just talk about it because... Well, you'll get it. It is the 2017's Les Nouvelles Aventures de Cendrillon (The New Adventures of Cinderella).

Now to understand WHERE this movie comes from, we need to return to 2015 and the release of another movie "The New Adventures of Aladin".

This movie is a comedy, an humoristic retelling/parody of the Aladin tale - France has quite a history of One Thousand and One Nights-cinema, and already humoristic takes on similar stories had been done (Gérard Jugnot had notably played in an humoristic Ali Baba movie I saw when I was young, for example). Here the main star and the actor playing Aladin is Kev Addams, which was then a young humorist that had been on the rise for quite a few years and was an "idol of the youngs", so to speak. The gist of the movie is: two thieves are disguising themselves as Santa Clauses in modern-day Paris to steal at the Galeries Lafayette. But they are stuck with a group of children who asks them for a story - and so to get rid of them, they decide to tell them an improvised version of the story of Aladdin, which in turn parallels the real-life events surrounding the thieves.

[Note the writing of "Aladin" with one "d", to carefully avoid any Disney lawsuit.]

This movie was very, very popular in theaters. It was popular enough to actually get a sequel called "Alad'2" (a pun on how "in" sounds like "un", "one"), which also was one of the leads of the box-office in France, and brought in another French humorist, this time of the "previous generation" before Adams - Jamel Debbouze:

But there was one problem... Both movies were absolutely torn to shreds by the critics. In newspapers, on websites, everybody agreed that these movies were actually bad, and not at all good movies nor great comedies. In fact, the reviews of the movies and the sales corresponding to it clashed so much it caused an online scandal when it came to the website AlloCiné (one of the French websites of reference when it comes to cinema), who was openly accused of faking reviews and inventing profiles to boost this movie's note - because it seemed impossible, with all the negative critics and the backlash, that the movie could obtain a mid-rating (3/5).

All of that to say, these movies were very polarizing - seen as embodying the typical bad comedies and a certain "downfall" of French cinema everybody has been talking about in the 2010s, and yet being massively mediatized and very popular among young audiences especially, and bringing in a lot of cash...

Now we reach our movie. Welcome "The New Adventures of Cinderella"! Which technically seems like a spin-off of the Aladin movies, and yet by its chronological placement seems to be a sequel "by the principle", not directly following it while still reusing its principle and referencing the previous movie (this movie was released BEFORE Alad'2)

This movie basically does what "Les Nouvelles Aventures d'Aladin" did - it is an humoristic retelling/open parody of Cinderella, framed as an adult being forced to tell a story to children. In this case it is Julie, a young girl who finds herself alone on the day of her birthday, without anybody remembering it... Until Marco, the man she secretely loves (and the son of her boss) calls to tell her he is coming over. Filled with hope she awaits... only to discover Marco brings her his son because he needed a last-minute babysitter. Stuck with this particularly bratty child, Julie is forced to tell him a story, and fed up with everybody treating her like a servant, she decides to tell a version of Cinderella where she plays the main role - and Marco is the prince she tries to win. Other characters from her life are recast: her boss is the king, her bitchy colleagues are the wicked stepsisters, her annoying neighbor if the evil stepmother... And Snow-White with her seven dwarves pop up at some point - because just like with the "Aladin", Disney references are quite present...

The main actress (Cinderella/Julie) s Marilou Berry, who truly was noticed and became quite famous thanks to playing in "Vilaine", and after passing by a series of movies (including "Les reines du ring"), she had another focus thanks to the success of the "Joséphine" movie. The cast also gathers other actors quite used to the world of comedy, ranging from older generations of the "classics" (Josiane Balasko as the wicked stepmother, Didier Bourdon as the king) to more recent ones (Arnaud Ducret as the prince Marco, Vincent Desagnat as the prince's older brother).

Now, I have not seen the movie, so I can't confirm or infirm this... But when it was released, this piece got bashed. Really, really hard. Harder than the Aladin movie, from people simply calling it "unfunny" and "cringe" to other actively pointing it out as being offensive and sexist, if not misogynistic. Aladin's note online roughly went around a 3/5. This one hesitated between 2/5 and 1,5/5. Now, again, I can't say I agree or disagree with these reviews because I have not seen the movie - and we all know a mass-opinion can be wrong. It seems more recently kinder reviews have been opping around the Internet - pointing out that all the backlash ths movie received was exaggerated and the piece was better than what everybody descibed.

Now, if you want my two pences of thought, I do believe that maybe this has to do with the audience that went to see these movies. As I said, Kev Adams was quite the "idol of the youth" when he did the Aladin movie (I don't know if he still is), but he had a BIG fanbase among teenage girls for example, as well as a certain scope to a young audience. And precisely who kept talking about these Aladin movies and who was more interested in those Aladin movies? Children. Meanwhile this Cinderella movie lacks any star or face that a young audience could recognize - no real Kev Adams. Yes, Marilou Berry is here, but her audience is not known to be young children - and as such, I do believe that the Aladin movies were favored by having a natural "fanbase" and already formed young audience ready to dig in. Meanwhile here two of the prominent stars are actors who symbolize the humor of the 20th century and are now quite aged - Balasko and Bourdon - who will speak to adults, but probably not to children... Anyway I am really speaking out of anything here, especially since I haven't seen the movie, but I do believe that this played a part in how this movie was received in a lesser way than the Aladin ones. (Plus the Aladin movies were clearly aimed at a male audience, which coupled with Kev Adams' natural teenage girl fanbase and the big success of Disney's Aladdin among girls, made sure both genders could go see it without shame - meanwhile this movie is clearly a "girl movie" meaning the audience is already restricted a bit more... And as such much more offended - as I said the movie was accused of being a piece of misogynistic jokes (doesn't help that there are only men who wrote and directed this movie).

But again, it might also have to do with the movie just being bad, you know. After all the man behind this movie (Lionel Steketee) is not the one that made the first Aladin movie (Arthur Benzaquen) but rather the one that did its lesser-appreciated sequel... Though the same script-writer was used for both (Daive Cohen).

Now, my only question, from what I have seen (extracts and trailers and previews) is actually... What is the target audience? Maybe it will clear up when I get to see the movie but this is all framed and sold as a kid-friendly entertainment, it even being an "all-public" movie to which families are supposed to be able to bring their kids but... a lot of the jokes I have seen are typical of adult things. I mean there's a lot of sex jokes for example, which made me think originally this was an adult movie, but then it also kind of is framed and written as a kid-level comedy and... Yeah this leaves me a bit confused. Just take the movie's poster, at the top of the post... You can't tell me there isn't a big sexual innuendo in the way the prince "rides" Cinderella! And yet it is sold as a movie kids can go watch and that isn't for a more mature audience? Anyway, I do not have a lot to say, since I haven't seen the movie, but I wanted to make a "preparation" post for when I will get to see it.

(I will just add that while some of the jokes I have seen do seem really bad - like a certain joke about a character's throat which was used already in Les Visiteurs 3 and seems really out of place in a kid movie, clearly taken from the Men in Black - some actually made me laugh. Most notably there is a great slapstick moment you can glimpse in the trailer where the Lady Tremaine-like stepmother just... headbutts Cinderella for speaking to her. I did quite like this joke as it subverts the pose and subtle threat of the Disney-wickedstepmother, while also clearly dedramatizing the violence into a goofy, cartoonish way. But that's just me.)

[dewvorce-flowers]

get to know me

Tagged by @mikathemad thank you! 💙

Do you make your bed?

I would have to leave it for that, no? (Actual answer being no, unless guests come to visit since my bedroom is also my living room)

Favourite number?

3 and 5 because three represents my siblings and me and five includes my parents too lol, but I'm also fond of 7

What's your job?

Studying to become a teacher, but while the job is something I already worked as and enjoyed the studying is hell. Also working as a "children gymnastics coach" aka parents drop their kids of in an elementary school and we play games for a couple of hours.

If you could go back to school, would you?

No, it wasn't necessarily bad but I much prefer my life now

Can you parallel park?

I could do it well the last time I drove a car but that's two years ago now(the day I got my license). Since my family doesn't own a car and none of my friends have one I just never got to drive again lol

Do you think aliens are real?

At all? Yes

On earth? Eh

Can you drive a manual car?

Yes, but see note in regards to the parking answer. (Actually only drove a automatic car once and that was to get it to a parking lot, where I could swith to manual lol)

Guilty pleasure?

Social media and fanfiction, I know I shouldn't feel guilty over it, but that's far easier said than done :(

Tattoos?

One day I will find the time to actually look at and consider design ideas. Till then the answer is no and I just have to admire them on other people.

Favourite colour?

Genuinely don't have one. Depends highly on the context.

Favourite type of music?

I like certain sounds, structures in songs but not in a way that applies to any type of music or I can describe with my non-existent knowledge. I just know I when I hear it.

I do listen to anything from opera, musicals, german 80s till 2010s, kurdish and turkish 70s to 00s, pop, rock, rap, folk etc

Do you like puzzles?

Yes!!

Any phobias?

Mild claustrophobia.

Favourite childhood sport?

Football(goalie) and swimming. Miss them both but might be able to start with swimming at least soon-ish.

Do you talk to yourself?

In my head. Outside only when I get so caught up I mumble silently/slightly move my lips.

Unless I am around people and we are organising stuff, then I count out my own To-Do list out loud and stuff like that.

Tea or coffee?

Cocoa. Had like two or three sips of coffee in my life lol

Tea can be nice when I have a cold or need something less sweat.

First thing you wanted to be when growing up?

Teacher and I had the dream of becoming a star goalie(knew that was never gonna happen even as a child)

What movies do you adore?

How to train your Dragon, Monty Python(both Holy Grail and Life of Brian), Rise of the Guardians and "Drei Haselnüsse für Aschenbrödel"(Czech/German Cinderella movie)

Of course there are many many more movie, but those are the ones, where I truly lost track of how often I watched them.

Thanks so much for tagging me! I'm gonna tag (if you want)

@maxkeplers @brocksfaber @tkaptains @dwisp @lovethegoalies @dream-leaf @jeynearrynofthevale

(and anyone else who sees this and wants to do this, please tag me in that case!!! Always love to get to know more people but am horrible at remembering urls)

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 3

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 3497 (oops 🙈)

Additional note: what you’re going to read is not realistic.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

With his stomach in knots and a frown on his face, Ivar watches closely his godfather, who enters the living-room, wheeling a large trolley case behind him.

"Hello, Ivar." Floki looks around, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Lagertha isn't here?", before flopping down on the corner sofa.

"No," Ivar shakes his head, wheeling up next to him, "She's out on a date with this English guy... Hammond, Halmund or whatever his name is."

Scratching his ear, Floki tilts his head, "but she knows you're going, right?" He pulls the trolley case closer and then snorts, mumbling under his breath, "don't think I can't see you rolling your eyes!"

"What do you think? Of course, she knows. She said, and I quote," Ivar raises his hands to make air quotes, his voice tinged with obvious annoyance, "'Of course you can go, sweetie, you know I don't want to be the one holding you back. Call me if anything goes wrong. And don't forget to take your meds.'"

"She cares, Ivar." Floki's tone is soft as he places a hand on his godson's shoulder.

Ivar lowers his gaze. "You should have taken me in." His words are barely audible and suddenly he feels like he's eleven again and he has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

"You do know that back then I wasn't in a good place." Floki's sad sigh almost gets Ivar in tears as memories of his parents and Helga flood his mind. The pain in his heart becomes nearly unbearable but he fights it off with all his might. He never wants to feel broken and lost again.

Ivar lifts his head up and Floki can see the stubbornness in his eyes. "I could live with you now."

"No, you could not, and you know it!" Floki smiles and taps Ivar on the cheek. "Ivar, I live between two flights, today in Norway, yesterday in Iceland and after-tomorrow in Canada. What kind of life would this be for you, huh? And besides, living with Lagertha is not that bad."

But living with Sigurd is! Ivar wants to shout. He keeps quiet, though, shrugging before eventually mumbling. "Guess not..."

"So," Floki starts, eager to change the subject, "where are your brothers, by the way?"

"Where do you think they are, huh, you knock-kneed fool? They're already there." Ivar glances at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Harald's party started twenty minutes ago."

"We better hurry up, then!" Crouching down, Floki slowly opens the suitcase under Ivar's scrutinizing gaze.

"Quick!" Ivar commands, barely able to contain his impatience, his nervous fingers tapping his push rims. "What do you have for me, old man, huh?" He even contemplates climbing out of his chair to open it himself, but the fear of breaking a bone at the worst possible time is stronger than his eagerness.

"You're going to calm down, young Padawan." Floki quips, slowly moving his hand in front of Ivar with eyes full of mischief. Ivar immediately slaps his godfather's hand away, mumbling under his breath, "I'd rather be a Sith Lord." That earns him a loud, hysterical laugh from his godfather.

Ivar grunts, ready to protest, but all thoughts leave his mind as soon as he's able to see what is in the trolley case. The scowl on his face obvious, he doesn't even try to hide his disappointment as he utters, "you made me braces?"

He hates braces with a passion. Along with underarm crutches, he had some, as a child. They were bulky, stiff, painful and walking with them was tedious, agonizingly slow, and exhausting. Ragnar had been adamant that he wanted his youngest to walk, no matter the struggles, no matter the nearly unbearable pain. Ivar had settled his ass in a wheelchair the day of his father's funeral, getting rid of his braces shortly after, a decision he had never regretted. So no, such torture devices were not at all what he was hoping for.

"Have a little faith in me," Floki rolls his eyes. "These," he looks lovingly at the strange contraptions in his hands, "are not braces, Ivar. Have you and your crippled ass ever heard of exoskeleton?"

Ivar's eyes widen. "It's that thing used in rehab that allows paraplegics to walk, right?" As Floki nods, Ivar gives him a puzzled glance. "But, erm, you do know I don't have a spinal cord injury, don't you? Or are you suffering from memory loss? Maybe it's your age?"

Dismissing the remark with an exasperated wave of his hand, Floki hisses, "I'm well aware that you don't, godson dearest," before narrowing his eyes, his voice now serious, "you may have full sensation in both legs, yet they can't exactly support your weight and your lack of motor function can't be denied. Not really different from some paraplegic dudes, what do you think?"

Feeling a heavy lump in his throat, Ivar frowns, not pleased with the idea of him being like a paraplegic. Almost without thinking, he contracts his quads as best he can, as if he wants to make sure he's still able to do it.

Floki doesn't miss the barely-there movements in his thighs, though, and his voice softens. "Look Ivar, you're not a paraplegic, okay? But I used the exoskeleton technology. And since you're not paralyzed, I was able to make a smaller device that you can wear underneath your clothes, and you're going to walk. I mean, really walk, not just like those guys in rehab, between parallels bars and with a PT right behind them."

Ivar, his eyes bright, stares at his godfather, slack-jawed with amazement. "I'm..." He begins to sputter, voice filled with emotion, "I'm really going to walk?" Feeling like his heart is pounding out of his chest, he fails to contain his excitement, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his lap. He'd tap his feet if only he could.

"You are." Floki nods before taking out of the trolley case a pair of dress shoes. "I put dozens of sensors in the insole of these shoes, which will enable the exoskeleton to correct your stance practically every second. Therefore, you won't need crutches, although I would say it's safer for you to use this." Reaching down, he grabs a black derby-style cane, simple and sleek in design. "You know," he shrugs, "just for extra support. Better safe than sorry, hmh?"

Ivar, who doesn't even flinch when he sees the walking stick, just reaches out, his hand grazing the carbon fiber exoskeleton. "Is it really for me?" His eyes filled with wonder, his voice trembling, his lips stretch across his face as his godfather nods. "And you made this in what?... four, five days?"

Letting out his signature giggle, Floki waggles his fingers in front of his face. "Even I couldn't make this in such a short time. No, the truth is, I've been working on it for a while. Let's say your phone call just sped things up. Though I must say, this marvel of technology is not flawless... It has a really low battery life, like four hours of autonomy at best. If I had more time, I certainly could have done better, but for now, it is what it is and you'll have to make do with what you've got." Pursing his lips, he glances at his watch, "So, just so you know, if you put this on now, you'll have to come back around midnight if you don't want to have to crawl around. And if you hear a beep, you'd better hurry, okay?"

As Ivar just nods, his beaming smile never fading, Floki adds, tilting his head, "and now, go get ready, young Padawan, you have a party to attend!"

***

Sitting on a bench at the seaside, Ivar watches the party from afar, a feeling of uneasiness tightening his chest. It was a mistake. Attending to this party was a mistake. Despite the exoskeleton, despite the fact that he walks almost normally, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't be here. Anxiety surges like the swell of a wave, and he struggles to breathe. Sigurd was right: he doesn't belong here, doesn't belong to this life.

A part of him wants to leave. It would be better to run away, to go hide in his room. But he won't. He can't. Because just a moment ago he saw you. Because he's not ready to give up on you now that he is here, eventually close to you.

He recognized you the moment his eyes fell on you. Looking radiant in a polka dot dress, you're as pretty as he remembers. Pretty? Who's he kidding? The girl you were six years ago was pretty. You're a woman now, and one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Glowing, smiling at everyone, you didn't even see him. In his head, of course, he makes plans to approach you, even if deep down, he knows all too well he'll never muster enough courage to talk to you. You probably wouldn't want him to anyway. After all, he may be standing tall today, yet he's still a freak, a fucking cripple. He's still cursed with his bony, twisted, useless legs. He's still a burden.

Yet, there's this little voice inside of him, barely audible, whispering that you're not like this, that you never were in the first place; and that's partly why the ten-year-old boy he was when he first met you felt drawn to you almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing and decides to take a little trip down memory lane, bringing him back to that sunny, summer day of his first – and only – encounter with you. His memory so vivid it's like it happened only yesterday.

He can't hear the chirping of birds as his brothers are loudly playing and bickering in the pool. His beloved mother is nowhere to be seen and he's willing to bet she's taking a nap, but not without first making sure he has everything he could possibly need. Lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, a glass of lemonade within reach and a thick book on his lap, he hardly notices his father coming into the backyard, Harald Hårfager following close behind.

Since Ivar knows Harald is here to talk business with his father, he pays no attention to the two men, who take their seats at the patio dining table.

He nearly falls off the sunbed when a tiny voice startles him. "Hello!"

Stunned, he turns his head towards the voice and comes face to face with a smiling girl he doesn't know. You. He'd say you're about his age.

"I'm Y/N," you tell him, waving your hand shyly. "I'm at my uncle's for the weekend," you keep going, pointing your finger at Harald, "and I was wondering... May I join you?" You finally ask, dragging a second sunbed closer to his.

His first instinct is to look around, because you can't possibly be talking to him. Why would you? Surely you can't have failed to spot his leg braces, nor his hideous orthopedic shoes. You can't have missed that he's a cripple.

Frowning as he sees that no one is around, he snorts, his nostrils flaring. He can tell you're wearing a swimsuit under your pink dress. What do you want, then? Are you here to mock and ridicule him or what?

"You better get in the pool with my brothers." He knows he sounds rude, not answering nor greeting you, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be made fun of and doesn't intend to give you the chance to do it.

Seemingly undeterred, you speak with a soft voice. "No, I'd rather not." Your smile is so genuine he can't help but think you mean no harm. "Actually," you shrug, sitting next to him, "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind. What are you reading?"

Gobsmacked, he just looks at you – and gods, how pretty you are! – for a long time, unable to utter a single word. Are you truly interested in what he's reading? Interested in him? He swallows hard, his heart racing. A small smile dancing on your lips, your kind eyes never leave his as you wait, full of hope, for him to finally talk to you.

And that's what he ends up doing, almost in spite of himself. For the next two hours, he shows you his astronomy book, a gift from his godfather for his tenth birthday, and tells you about the stars, the constellations and the nights he spends watching the sky, when his mother allows him to. And for two hours you listen to him, asking a question here or there and always smiling. He's pretty sure you're not faking being interested in what he's saying.

All too soon, your uncle tells you it's time to go and you stand up with a scowl, letting out a sigh of regret. The next moment, you flash Ivar a grin. "I had a really great time with you, thanks! I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow but I hope we can spend time together again sometime, maybe next summer. I'd love to stargaze with you, you know?" With that, you lean forward and as your lips touch his cheek, Ivar's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

Ivar inhales deeply. That kiss... That's when he fell madly and hopelessly in love with you. If he concentrates enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips against his skin, still smell your sweet, flowery scent.

That day, he had watched you leave with a smile on your face, already dreaming of the day he would see you again. You had said "next summer" and even though it was a long time away, he was willing to wait. In the meantime, he would have plenty of memories to recall - your joyful voice, your sparkling eyes, your lovely smile... Sure, he could wait.

And he had waited, hopeful and happier than he had been in a long time.

Not long after, however, his life had been turned upside down, his father being murdered and his mother dying in a car crash. Lost, angry, broken, and infinitely sad, he had gone through the following months as if anesthetized - barely living, hardly functioning, sometimes feeling as if the memory of you was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Yet, and he doesn't know why – or perhaps simply because Ragnar being dead, Harald had no reason to visit anymore – he had never seen you again.

"Hello!"

His whole body freezes and he stops breathing. This voice... Your voice... He'd know it anywhere. Yet, it can't be, right? Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is one of his brothers tricking him? Why would you talk to the cripple?

"My name is Y/N." He can hear the smile in your voice. "I was wondering... May I join you?"

Summoning the courage he's not sure he has, Ivar looks tentatively toward you.

Gods! You're even more beautiful up close. Fuck. Now that you're here, right next to him, he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Panic seizes his hammering heart as a lump rises in his throat. He attempts to swallow around it to speak, to say something, anything, but the words won't come out and he finally just nods, his hand gesturing to the bench for you to sit on.

"Thanks," you give him a broad smile before taking your seat.

Ivar cannot believe his eyes. What are you doing? Did you recognize him? Why are you here, with him?

"Woul–", he sputters, struggling to find his voice, "Wouldn't you rather be there?" Pointing his index finger at the crowd gathered in front of the makeshift stage just a few meters away. He frowns, tilting his head, "the party is in full swing."

"No, I'd rather not." You shrug and as you turn your head toward him, he breathes in your sweet scent, suddenly feeling dizzy. "The guys are already drunk and really have one thing on their minds. And those who are not are boring." You lower your gaze, as if embarrassed, and it's so adorable Ivar feels like his heart is melting. "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind."

Oh, he doesn't. He doesn't mind at all. The truth is, there's a fucking firework inside of him, and he barely contains the screams of happiness that threaten to escape his lips. "That's okay, you can stay," he says instead, his fidgeting fingers dancing on his lap.

Over the next hour or so, the conversation flows easily as you speak about Karasjok, the small town where you live, telling him about your mother's people, the Sami, their culture and customs.

Ivar shares with you bits and pieces of his life too, speaking about his passion for the Viking culture and about his belief in the ancient gods. The night, his night, is full of your laughs, full of your smiles, full of you. He wants it to never end.

He's still trying to figure out if you know who he is, if you remember meeting him once when you rise to your feet, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "Walk with me, will you?"

He's about to break the truth about his inability to walk when he remembers that actually, thanks to Floki, he can. His eyes never leave yours as he grabs his cane with a little bit of self-consciousness, wincing as he stands up, but he can't see disgust, contempt, or disappointment on your face and your smile doesn't falter as you delicately slip your hand under his free arm, curling your fingers back over it. Shaken by your sudden proximity, Ivar feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

"It's such a lovely night and I'm so happy spending it with you."

Your words leave him speechless as you lead him close to the water. A bunch of guys can be seen in the distance and Ivar is pretty sure his brothers are among them. He can feel their heavy stares on him and doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. "Who's this dude? Do we know him?" Standing tall, with his braided hair and a blue suit, he knows he doesn't look like himself. Yet, as he locks eyes with Hvitserk for a second, he'd sworn he sees a hint of recognition crossing his brother's face. And as the latter gives him a thumbs up, he knows his mind is not playing tricks with him.

"Oh, I love this song!" You clap your hands twice before shrugging shyly. "Let's dance, please!"

Ivar's heart breaks. Scared out of his wits, he swallows hard, his breathing uneven. "I... I can't." It's a painful admission, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him up.

He realizes you pay no mind to his defeated tone, though, as you grab his cane, leaning it against a nearby tree. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Almost in spite of himself, he places his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Gently – cautiously – swaying to the music, Ivar leans in close and, inhaling deeply your delightful scent, he feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Your head resting on his chest, he's sure you can hear his frantic, pounding heartbeat. But he can't bring himself to care, not when you're finally exactly where he wants you to be. In his arms.

That's why he doesn't hear the first beep, or if he does, he doesn't pay any attention, entranced by your beauty, your kindness and the mesmerizing color of your eyes.

But when you stop dancing, your eyebrows raised, "What's that beeping noise? It doesn't stop," he hears it too, cold sweats washing over him as panic courses through his body.

"I... I must... I must go," he stammers, and honestly he's about to throw up. He can't think, can't speak. All he knows is that he doesn't want you seeing him crawling around. He won't allow it. He can't.

Fuck.

That's why he leaves. He just strolls off. He doesn't see the appalled look you're giving him, doesn’t' realize he's leaving his black cane behind, doesn't hear the despair in your tone as you shout, "wait, please! I don't even know your name!"

He has only taken a few steps when crocodile tears run down his cheeks, blurring his sight. It hurts so much he could scream, and he can barely breathe as the realization starts to sink in. Who was he trying to fool? Sigurd had been right all along. No matter the exoskeleton, no matter the genius of his godfather, he's still a freak. A monster. An abnormality.

He doesn't belong. He's not worthy.

Fuck.

His heart shatters in a thousand pieces.

Fuck.

Y/N.

Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

About the admin

@aftertheglitterfades tagged me in something and I figured it's been a while since I shared anything about myself on here, so if you wanted to know about me-

Name: Rachel

Sign: Pisces-Aries cusp

Height: 5'7''-8''

Time: 10:51pm

Birthday: March 20th

Favorite bands/artists: Def Leppard, REO Speedwagon, Queen, Van Halen, The Struts, Elton John, Eagles, Led Zeppelin, David Bowie, The Cars, Journey, Foreigner, LA Guns, Cinderella, Mott the Hoople, Bad Company, Eddie Money, Heart

Last Movie: Elvis (2022)

Last Show: Bob's Burgers lol I'm trying to watch it from start to finish and I'm on season 10/12 I love it

When I created this blog: February 19th 2018

What I post: you are here bc I post exclusively Def Leppard content

Last thing I Googled: def leppard acoustic madrid 1993 BAHAHABAAB

Other blogs: if you're gonna tag me in future things, my main is @mccoys-killer-queen! (I feel like that's a known fact by now but in case you didn't know, I never respond to tag games on this account!)

Do I get asks?: rarely ;-;

Following: don't know don't care

Followers: honestly I've never had this many followers on anything- ever like not even CLOSE and I'll only tell you how many if I hit the next milestone that's in my head, but I'm proud of the amount I have bc this was just me gushing about what I love most and ppl went "nice"

Average hours of sleep: uhuhuhh 8-12 hours

Instruments: ;-; I guess ᵍᵘᶦᵗᵃʳ

What I'm wearing: a black van halen tshirt and my kraken ladyboxers lol

Dream job: travelling photographer for my favorite band so basically Ryan's job

Dream trip: anywhere as long as I can go with Leppard

Nationality: American ;-;

Favorite songs: pls don't make me

Last book I read: I never read :/

[smeraldos]

Love by Daylight (1/2)

➸ characters: Seokjin x Reader

➸ genres: Sailor Moon!AU, fluff, sort of e2l

➸ tags: sly friends, petty enemies/secret crushes, running away from the mortifying ordeal of being known

➸ words: 2K+

➸ summary: The day you find out who your suave partner in saving the world is, you're absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure you'll be over the moon. You'll be so happy you'll think you're dreaming. Turns out you're right. You do think you're dreaming. Because this? This can't be real. You're being pranked. Someone, somewhere, is going to jump out and say you're on Candid Camera. (Please.)

>> PART 2

When the lights fade and the facades fall, this is what you’re left with: Tuxedo Mask without a mask, you without your moonlit glamor. Tux the civilian is handsome, you can tell, and this is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for.

He lifts his face.

The youma's words come rushing back: Let the truth be known, the city’s deepest secrets shown.

Tuxedo Mask is none other than Kim Seokjin.

Suddenly, you’re reminded of a crystalline city; people bowing before you; Seokjin taking your hand, your matching rings gleaming in the light. Was it a memory or a dream?

You stand there, dumbfounded, until Tux/Seokjin dons his mask and brushes past. “Come on, Sailor Moon,” he says, sensible enough to use your alias. “The coast is clear. We’ve got a fight to finish.”

☾

“Why does it have to be Seokjin?" You whine, collapsing into bed and disturbing your sleeping cat. (In your defense, he was on your pillow. Which you’ve told him numerous times not to lay down on because his fur would shed.) Luckily, Agust is acquainted with your dramatic side and simply gets up to move.

“Well, why do you have to be Sailor Moon?” He points out. “It could have been someone less bothersome.”

“Hey,” you retaliate. “You’re the one who came to me. You could have given anyone the Lunar Key.”

“I didn't have a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t? You could have walked away and picked someone better, just like that.”

He scoffs. “Not when it’s the Queen.”

“Queen-schmeen." You flop back onto your bed, the springs creaking in protest. "I bet Her Royal Highness is on her throne right now, all nice and comfy. She couldn't care less."

Agust doesn't reply.

At first, you think it's because you've won and nothing else can be said, but when the silence stretches on, you know something is off. You sit up to see Agust no longer curled into himself, but sitting. He stares out your window into the night, his normally keen eyes empty. "She's dead."

Judging by his somber tone, she'd meant a lot to him. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

Agust sighs. "No need to apologize, kid. She was your mother, after all."

"My mother?"

"Not now," he amends. "But she was a long time ago, when you were the princess of the moon and Seokjin the prince of the earth.”

☾

The next morning, you head to school on time.

Your mom—present day mom—was surprised to see you up early, and Jeongguk called you out like the bratty brother he was (wow, no morning run today?), but the truth was you couldn’t sleep.

Last night, Agust recounted your past, how the dark eclipsed the moon. Although the queen tried her best to protect the kingdom, it was to no avail. Seokjin died in the fray, and you fell shortly after, helpless to save your beloved. In the end, the queen sacrificed herself to give you and Seokjin another chance at love, her people another chance at happiness.

A chance to rebuild the Silver Millennium.

The thing was, you didn’t know if that was what you wanted. Not that you’d want the Dark Kingdom to reign, but you weren’t sure whether you wanted to rule in your mother’s stead. Or marry Seokjin. Past you might have wanted to, but the you now could barely stand him. And neither could he. Or so you thought. You’d gotten along just fine with Tuxedo Mask, even grown a crush, but that wasn’t enough to warrant a marriage.

“Hello? Veen to Selene*?” Someone nudges your shoulder, and with a start, you notice Mina looking at you in concern.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing yet, but it looks like you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”

You’re about to tell her when you see Seokjin approaching, his uniform blazer neatly pressed.

“Morning, ______,” Seokjin says. “Mina.”

“Morning,” you reply, ready for whatever biting remark he’d say next. But once Namjoon comes up, he leaves. That's it.

Even Mina, who hardly sees the two of you interact, notices. "That's the first time I've seen you guys polite. It's weird. What happened?"

After a discreet look around, you grab her by the elbow. “He's Tux,” you hiss, but Mina doesn’t look the least bit shocked. Her face breaks out into a giddy grin, like a child who’s finally tall enough to get on the big kid ride.

“You knew?” You ask, a little hurt she didn’t tell you.

She pouts, squishing your cheeks together. “Don’t be mad. You don't know how hard it was to keep it a secret.”

◑

You don't blame Mina, for the most part. It would have been better if you hadn’t known who Tuxedo Mask was, and vice versa. You felt like Cinderella running away from the ball, her beautiful dress giving way to rags and ratty shoes. If the prince caught up to her then, she’d probably be humiliated.

Just like you are now.

Tuxedo Mask has seen you at your most embarrassing moments, fighting to have the last word (or milkshake) as Seokjin, and also at your best, saving civilians with grace. You've only wanted him to see the best of you, for him to think of you as the perfect wonder-girl heroine everyone else saw you as, but he's seen almost every side. You don't know what he sees in you now, if anything. And frankly, you don't want to know.

"Have you ever thought that maybe he's thinking what you're thinking?" Mina asks. "You've seen all the good and bad in him, too."

"But it's different when he doesn't have a crush on Sailor Moon!" You say, exasperated.

"Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about that if I were you."

Seokjin thinking of your alter ego that way is embarrassing, but considering he's also Tuxedo Mask...now your face is red, you can feel it. Red as roses in bloom. "You're joking, right?"

"Why don't you wait and see," Mina replies, as cryptically as when she was Sailor V and you hadn't known any better. Having sympathy for you, she gives you a warm smile. "Don't stress out too much, Moon. You're amazing either way. Just talk to him."

◑

You think there's some reconnaissance to sort out first. When you walked into Crown Arcade and saw Seokjin talking to Jimin pretty intently, you didn’t want to interrupt...okay, who were you kidding? You chickened out.

But Jimin is his best friend, so he'll know how Seokjin feels the most, right? It's the next best alternative to actually speaking to Seokjin, which, well, you aren't ready for. Case in point: you've done the impossible and made yourself scarce. You aren’t about to break your streak now.

So the instant Seokjin leaves, you walk up to the counter. Jimin looks up from sprinkling a milkshake. "Hey. The usual?"

"Yeah, just double on the chocolate."

"You got it," he says, passing the drinks he finished making to a server. You watch him blend milk into ice cream, then reach over for a new cup to pour the mixture into later. It's all done with practiced ease, and you marvel at how quick he is, not to mention how beautiful the finished milkshake looks after. The chocolate is perfect, the whipped cream a cloud of snow drizzled with dark syrup.

Jimin slides it over with a grin. "Mademoiselle."

"Why, thank you," you say, digging in with gusto. This is exactly what "stressed is desserts spelled backwards," meant: Jimin's milkshakes never fail to kick your worries down a notch.

"Good?" He asks.

"Mhm," you mumble, more to your milkshake than to him, when the thought that you haven't paid yet crosses your mind. Oh gosh. You pull your purse onto your lap, but Jimin chuckles, stopping you.

"I've got it covered. Besides, I heard you weren't yourself lately."

"Really?"

He shrugs. "From the way you're devouring that, it's kind of hard to believe…"

You take an extra large mouthful to prove his point.

"But you only lay on the chocolate when you're bummed," he finishes, and you’d protest if you hadn’t made it a habit to drown your sorrows in his milkshakes. They were just too good to resist. Not to mention Jimin is a great listener. Your girls, although you love them, aren't always the best. You'd catch the moment they crossed over from attentive to "Is she done yet?" but with Jimin, you've never had that issue. Turns out you have a different one.

"I hate how perceptive you are."

He laughs. "You're just predictable."

"You know what? You can take back your milkshake and go back to work," you say in a fit of grumpiness, pushing the glass back to him.

"Are you sure you want me to do that?"

You meet him eye to eye. After a minute—a long, impressive minute might you add—you take it back. "Fine. What do you want to hear?"

"Anything you want to tell me. And if it's something you can't share, please tell someone you can. It's not great to keep things bottled up, trust me."

You sigh.

"Here's the deal," you begin, feeling a little weird telling your old crush about your new one, but marching through nevertheless, "I met someone on...online. He's nice and funny and understands me even though he's different. I just click with him, and eventually, I want to tell him I like him. The thing is, I don't really know who he is. We've been chatting on Discord and his profile picture is Tuxedo Mask, but he can't be Tuxedo Mask. Or maybe he is, who knows?"

Jimin laughs. If only he knew.

"Anywho," you continue, "I meet him and find out he's someone I actually know...but he's a pest. He always gets on my nerves and it's like he's a completely different person! I don't even know how that's possible, but apparently it is and it's just so frustrating."

Jimin doesn't speak for a while, which is fine by you. You take the time to jam spoonfuls of chocolate and cream into your mouth.

"You know," he finally says, amused, "that sounds a little like the plot to You've Got Mail."

"That isn't funny.” You huff. “Joe Fox was a jerk and I don't know why they played him off as charming."

"Isn't that what you think of the guy?"

"I never said he was a jerk."

"But you said he was a pest."

"That isn't the s—" You pull at your hair. "Ugh. I don't know anymore."

"Did you talk to him?"

"And what? Spill my complicated feelings?"

"No, just talk to him. You don't have to confess right now. Just air out the laundry and see where you guys are at. Chances are, if you're confused, then he's confused, too, and there's no way either of you can get out of it without talking to each other."

"I can't talk to him, Jimin. I avoided him for three weeks! He's going to hate me."

"He isn't," Jimin says firmly, and you wish you could have the same conviction. "Sure, he'll be upset, but if he's really someone who cares, he'll listen. Look, during that time you avoided him, did he try to reach out?"

"Well, I told him I didn't want to talk and he stopped asking."

"So he'll listen. If it turns out he hates you, give him a piece of your mind and I'll give you triple chocolate milkshakes on the house."

When he puts it like that, talking to Seokjin doesn't seem as dreadful. "You're not just saying that?"

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

You get your answer when someone comes trudging in, holding up a bag from your go-to fast food joint. "Jimin! You better be grateful I drove all the way downtown to get you these burgers. Since when did you like ______'s favorite, anyways?"

"Since now," your traitor of a friend says. You glare at him, which he conveniently ignores.

"You're the best," he tells a surprised Seokjin, leaving with a pat on his shoulder. "Enjoy your meal!"

>> NEXT

...

note:

*Venus to Selene, like "Earth to [insert name]?" but replace Earth with Venus and [name] with Selene, Greek goddess of the moon

[princesssarisa]

Character ask: Snow White

Tagged by @ariel-seagull-wings.

Favorite thing about them: Her kind, affectionate nature, and even more so, the fact that she's so beloved by everyone around her. This makes her a wonderful wish-fulfillment character. No matter how much the Queen hates her, all the other people and animals she meets instantly become her allies and help her, protect her, deeply mourn her "death" and are overjoyed when she revives. This is probably the main reason why her story has always been one of my favorite fairy tales – because I'd like to be loved that way.

Least favorite about them: The fact that within her own story, who she is and what she wants matter less than how other people feel about her. In the original Grimms' tale, the Queen is really the protagonist, albeit an evil one – the focus is always more on her emotions and her actions than on any other character's – and even though Snow White herself is more of a real protagonist in the Disney version, the story still consists more of the other characters reacting to her and making things happen to her than anything else. Contrast her with Cinderella, for example, who in all versions of her story is the character whose feelings and desires we follow. By comparison, Snow White teeters dangerously close to failing the Sexy Lamp Test.

Three things I have in common with them:

I love animals.

I'm a good cook.

I can be naïve and too trusting.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

I don't like to clean.

I would never take food from a stranger if I knew someone was out there wanting to kill me.

I hate combing my hair, so I wouldn't have taken the poisoned comb either.

Favorite line: From the Disney version:

"Oh, you must be Grumpy!" and "Why, Grumpy! You do care!"

brOTP: The Seven Dwarfs.

OTP: The Prince.

nOTP: The Queen.

Random headcanon: She's on the autism spectrum. I can't take credit for this, someone suggested it on TVTropes' YMMV page for the Disney movie, but I like it, especially for Disney's Snow White. She's a mild case, obviously. But this would help to explain why she's so innocent, overly trusting, a bit out of touch with social rules (e.g. entering a house uninvited, cleaning it or eating the food and then going to sleep in the bedroom without permission), slightly obsessive about cleanliness (in the Disney version), sometimes a bit controlling (again, in Disney, the way she plays "mother" to the Dwarfs), yet also (namely in the Disney version) very empathic and gentle, prone to escapism through daydreams, and especially fond of animals and good at relating to them. These are all common traits of females on the spectrum.

Unpopular opinion: Even though she's hardly a "modern" woman and her story is undoubtedly a "problematic fave" from a feminist viewpoint, she still deserves to have her story told to children and be loved by them. There's no wrong way to be female and her traditional, domestic way is as good as any other. She just shouldn't be held up as the only example of what a "good girl" is like.

Songs I associate with them:

These probably go without saying.

"I'm Wishing."

"With a Smile and a Song."

"Whistle While You Work."

"Someday My Prince Will Come."

Favorite pictures of them:

This old German illustration:

These illustrations by Trina Schart Hyman (I wish I could include them all, though – her Snow White is stunning!):

This book cover image by Nancy Ekholm Burkert:

This illustration by Angela Barrett:

This one by Charles Santore:

Disney's iconic Snow White (it was hard to choose my favorite picture of her, but I finally settled on this one):

From the anime The Legend of Snow White:

Sarah Patterson in the Cannon Movie Tales version:

Lily Collins in Mirror, Mirror. (I never really liked this retelling and I'll almost definitely never watch it again, but there's no denying that Lily was perfectly cast.)

I would have liked to share a picture of Elizabeth McGovern in the Faerie Tale Theatre adaptation too, she's adorable in that version, but I couldn't find any good ones online.

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters |  Chapter 4: Saying Sorry is a Virtue

Hello my beautiful souls!!

I hope this of you who celebrate Christmas had and amazing time, and those if you who don't had a great Friday!

I had a really chill holiday, and although I was supposed to be home and that didn't happen, I'm still glad I had a good time. I got a watch for Christmas and I'm obsessed!!

Anyway, I also wanted to let you guys know I'll be posting the story on Wattpad, and thanks to @meowiemari I also have a cover. I have attached it below! My wattpad user is @criminalminds4days so feel free to follow and read along!

Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. It's one of my favorites. 💙💙

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 3.6k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

*************************************************

(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 4: Saying Sorry is a Virtue

It had been a little over three months since her absolute wrecking of the family retreat. She had managed to get her mom to get past it, and though she had promised to apologize to the rest of her aunts and uncles, she had not gotten around (well, more like she didn't think it was necessary, they probably had already forgotten, and she did actually mean every word she said).

Her team and she had evaded more danger than possible in the last couple of weeks, and she had a feeling today she would not be returning to her bed to sleep. She also had to figure out what she wanted to get Spencer for his birthday. She was so excited to celebrate with him that she wanted to spill her idea of a surprise birthday party to him, but she needed to remain strong. She just hoped he would like it, and that she could find something to give him. She knew him so much better now and had so many things that he would like, but she wanted this gift to be unique, something that reminded him of her. Not that she wanted him thinking about her all the time because that would be weird, but maybe once in a while?

A knock on her door made her get out of her head. She walked to see Tyler Hemingway standing on the other side.

"Can I come in?"

"Why?"

"I just-" He looked at the floor, nervous. "I was just hoping we could talk."

"We can talk right here, what do you want?"

"I just wanted to say I am sorry, for what happened."

"What exactly? That you humiliated me in front of my family, or that your wife called me and my boyfriend liars."

"All of it, I should have known better."

"Yes, you should have." She debated whether to say something else but decided against it. "I honestly don't understand where this is coming from, it was two years ago."

"I know, and I am also sorry it has taken me so long to say anything. I just didn't know how to approach the situation, and what we had was so special, I wish I hadn't ruined it."

She had waited to hear those words for so long that how wrong what she did, didn't occur to her until the damage had been done. Even if her feelings for the man in front of her were not the same as they were two years ago, those words were enough to make her become less hostile towards him. She let Tyler in, forgetting Spencer was waiting for her to pick him up in about twenty minutes.

"Spencer? Why are you late?"

"Because she didn't pick me up like she was supposed to. I assumed she may be running a little late, so I waited and then I called her, but it went straight to voicemail." He responded to Emily.

"That is so not like her, should we be worried?"

"I don't know, but I already am, maybe we should go see if she's home or something."

The elevator doors opened once again as Spencer and Emily were preparing themselves to raid her house in order to find her. She stepped out, a look of immense guilt present as her eyes landed on the brunette. He did not seem upset, more like relieved she was there. Emily dropped her jacket and embraced her, a huge weight lifting off her shoulders after seeing her. When she was released from the woman's hug, she directed her eyes back to him.

"I am so sorry; I was on my way-" before she could explain Aaron Hotchner told them to join the rest of the team at the round table to discuss the next case.

"This one is a bad one," JJ said as she read through the file. "These people are killing families. Not even the children are spared."

"Yeah, and it's only getting worse." Said Penelope as she shared the pictures of the crime scenes. She wished she could concentrate but Spencer kept glancing at her with worry. He knew something wasn't right, but she didn't know how to explain it without sounding like she was digging herself in a bigger hole.

She avoided him on the jet, as she pretended to be asleep and then engaged in a very interesting conversation with JJ about diapers and toddlers. As much as she loved the blonde, she sometimes didn't appreciate learning all these baby facts, it took the wishes to have children away faster than anything else.

She was now in a black SUV, with Spencer in the back seat and Emily driving. She sat in the front seat as they drove towards the hospital. One of the girls had been spared and they were hoping to talk to her about the unsubs.

"So, why were you late this morning?" Emily questioned, "You left Cinderella over there without his carriage."

"Yeah, I know. I am so sorry Spencer."

"It's okay, I just got worried."

"I know, and I am so sorry." She took a deep breath, preparing to explain to them why she had been delayed. "I just got some unexpected company this morning."

"Was it Anna?"

"No, she has been radio silent for these past couple of months, I'm assuming she is building a bulletproof alibi for when she decides to murder me."

"Is there something I should know about?" Emily asked as she stole glances at her.

"Spencer and I went to my family retreat a couple of months ago and when we were there I may or may not have basically told my aunts and uncles to go fuck themselves."

"You explicitly told them to do so." Spencer clarified.

"Why did you do that?"

"Because they all sucked. Emily if you would have been there, you would have done the same." Spencer responded. "But going back to the main topic, who came to your apartment today? Was it your mom?"

"We need to have a conversation about this whole family retreat thing!" The woman behind the steering wheel complained.

"I will tell you all about it tonight." She assured her. "And no, Spence, it wasn't my mom, it was someone a little closer to Anna."

"Her mom?"

"No, Tyler."

There was no response to that, Spencer looked like he didn't know exactly what he was feeling, while Emily seemed like she had returned to watch her favorite show only to find out she missed a whole season, and she had no idea what happened to the storyline she was following.

"Who's Tyler?"

"Anna's husband." She clarified, "he came to apologize for everything, and to say that he didn't think what Anna did was okay."

Reid scoffed, "and you believe him?"

"He seemed very genuine about it."

"Unbelievable."

"I am so lost right now."

"Spencer, are you upset about this?"

"Me? Why should I? It's not like I pretended to be your boyfriend to prevent him from making you feel any worse than he had already, and you ended up right back at where you started."

"Are you implying I slept with him?"

"I never said that."

"Well then what are you saying? Because need I remind you, he is a married man. I would never do something like that." She crossed her arms, becoming defensive of the situation. "He simply wanted to talk, so I listened. It was a conversation, and it's just going to be a dinner. Nothing more."

"Oh, so you're going on a date with him too?"

"It's not a date! Did I not mention he was married?! To another woman!"

"Being with someone else has never stopped him before."

"What is happening right now?" Emily asked, to no one in particular.

"Seriously Spencer?"

"Did I lie?"

"Why are you so worked up about this? It doesn't even concern you."

"I am upset, because even after he told you in front of all your family that he was in love with your cousin and married her, breaking your heart, he says, 'I'm sorry' and suddenly he's back on the top of your priority list." He spits out, his emotions running high.

"This man did what now?" Both looked at Prentiss as if remembering she was there all along.

"I can't believe you just said that! I confided in you."

"And I trusted you."

"It was one day! I forgot to pick you up one day and suddenly I am the worst person on this planet, really?"

"Are you seriously so oblivious to think this is about some stupid ride?"

"Guys,"

"No? Then what is this about? Is this about me making you look bad or something?"

"No, it's about the fact that after all we've been through and the fact that I have done all I can to help you and be there for you I am still less important than Tyler fucking Hemingway."

"Guys,"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Guys,"

"It doesn't even matter anymore, enjoy your dinner." He undid his seat belt. "Why didn't you tell me we were here Emily?"

"I have been trying."

"Let's go then." He said as he exited the SUV marching up to the hospital entrance.

"What is his problem?" She asked Emily, still heated by the discussion.

"Well,-"

Before Prentiss could respond she was cut off. "I mean, yes, this guy broke my heart but that doesn't mean I have to hold a grudge forever, right? I might as well move past it, don't you think?"

"If you ask me-"

"And it was one conversation, and we're going out to dinner to finish it, there is nothing wrong with that. I don't know why he got so worked up about it, do you?"

"Yeah-"

"You know what, screw Spencer, if he wants to be a jerk for no fucking reason, let him do it. I am not going to lose sleep over it, nor am I gonna give him explanations. Who the hell does he think he is?"

"I think-"

"Yeah, you're right Emily, when Reid decides to get his shit together he can talk to me, in the meantime, we need to find out who these unsubs are before they hurt anyone else." She undid her seatbelt and opened the door, Emily still sitting there, trying to figure out what the heck had just happened. "Aren't you coming?"

"Yeah, sure." She followed suit and they both entered the hospital. Spencer was speaking to the girl's nurse as they approached, he didn't make any comments, but he also didn't acknowledge her, nor invite her into the conversation as he did to Emily. He was acting professional and doing his job, but his stance and emotions were very clear by the lack of interactions between them unless it was absolutely necessary.

As soon as Emily entered the room to interview the victim, the silence that engulfed them made her heart tighten. Spencer and she had gone past this already, they were friends, there was never a silent moment between them, and now all of that seemed to vanish in the air, all because of her decision to let Tyler Hemingway apologize.

She chose to ignore the situation until further notice. Emily was right, Spencer was being a dramatic prick and she was just gonna give him the time to realize that he was wrong. So when she got to bed, grateful for a bit of peace knowing one of the killers had been identified and was going to be caught soon, the last thing she wanted to do was have a conversation with Emily about the topic this same one had told her to not think about.

"I didn't say to just ignore it. As a matter of fact, I didn't get one sentence out during the whole drive to the hospital."

"That can't be true."

"Oh, but it was. Now I know how Reid felt when Gideon left." She fixed her shirt and continued, "well, regardless, what happened between you and Tyler, and what exactly does Dr. Genius know?"

"Spence knows pretty much everything, it kind of came with the territory." She recounted the story and this time she didn't leave any detail out, well, almost didn't leave any detail out.

Emily learned about Anna and their rivalry, Tyler and him choosing her cousin over her, the only thing she never even brought up was her dad. Only Spencer knew about it and she wanted to keep it that way. She finally landed on the weekend in question and the words she had shared with her cousin. Though that wasn't exactly what Prentiss found worrisome.

"You and Reid kissed?! Like on the lips?!" She screamed.

"Yeah, it was just so they would stop bugging us. It's not even the first time we kissed, so why is it a big deal?"

"Wait, you've kissed him before that day?"

"Yeah, at my cousin's wedding."

"Holy shit! I was not expecting that. My OTP is getting all these moments that will eventually lead to the ship sailing and I didn't even know about them!"

"Have you started talking another language by accident or something? I don't understand anything of what you just said."

"Don't worry about it. On a scale of one to ten, how good of a kisser is he?"

"Eleven." She responded immediately, "but that has nothing to do with this whole situation."

"It definitely does! Now it makes sense, Reid thinks you still have feelings for your ex, and he's jealous. He probably doesn't even know it, and he's probably trying to understand why he is so upset with you. Oh my god, he's jealous!"

"Emily, he's not jealous. Spence and I are not dating, we pretended to be a couple." She explained, thinking the woman hadn't understood her.

"Yeah, I know that, but I also know that any fake dating movie or book has always reached a point where the two main characters become unconsciously aware of their feelings. This is it! THIS IS IT!" She shook her and laughed, then suddenly came to a stop. "Oh my god, I am the best friend. I am definitely the friend that gives some wise advice that makes it click in your brain, let me think," she looked around the room as if inspiration would pop out of the bed. "I got it: get your shit together and marry Spencer." She stood and walked out the door, before fully closing it she spoke again, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go talk some sense into our little genius. Love you, hope I am invited to the wedding!"

Though after the break in the case they had found themselves relieved and on their way back, the nagging feeling she called Emily Prentiss kept insisting that both doctors were actually in love and that all they needed to do was kiss and become a couple. It was so constant that even when she wasn't around she could hear her echo. Like right then when she was trying to brush her hair and mentally prepare herself for whatever this dinner with Tyler was going to bring. Though she and Spencer had not yelled or continued to argue, there was nothing else left of their friendship, at least that's what it seemed like. It was as if the past months were a dream and they were just back to being coworkers, and that feeling was burning her up inside. She did not realize how important he had become in her life until he wasn't a part of it anymore.

"You look great," Tyler said as she entered the restaurant.

"Thanks, Spence helped me pick out this shirt when we went to the mall a couple of weeks ago. He said blue always looked good on me."

"That's great." The man responded, clearly uncomfortable. "So, I know you had to leave for work the other day, but I was hoping now we could talk more about what happened between us."

"Yes, of course."

She didn't really understand how she had gotten to the point of having an actual conversation with the man sitting across from her, because she had been angry at him for so long, that it never occurred to her as a possibility. He had once again apologized and given her a tale of how he had let his emotions guide him without realizing he could hurt others, and while that didn't excuse his actions, she still accepted his apology, choosing instead to move on from their current limbo. They had quickly changed the conversation, like if two old friends had reconnected after so long. Tyler was a great friend when he wanted to be, he was pleasant company, to say the least.

"And the other day, Spence was trying to learn to play the piano, and I told him there was no way he could learn in a week. So what did he do? He-"

"Stop, just stop!" He interrupted her, and she furrowed her eyebrows confused. "I have been sitting here for an hour listening to you talk about your stupid boyfriend and his IQ of 187." He rubbed his hands through his face and tried to calm down. "Was this the plan all along? You heard me tell you that I wished I hadn't ruined our relationship and decided playing with me was perfect revenge? Accepting dinner only to humiliate me by ignoring me and choosing to talk about that Spencer guy? Is he in on it or something?"

Oh. My. God.

Reid was right, this man was not looking to mend old friendships or start a new chapter, he was looking for a mistress. 

"You, are the worst type of jerk I have ever met. I actually believed you wanted to be friends, to turn the page but all you wanted was to get in my pants." She stood, grabbing her drink and spilling it over him. "I hope I never see you again. Go fuck yourself Tyler." She walked, but before she exited the restaurant she returned and gave him a fake smile, "and also, Thank you for humiliating me in front of my family, you showed me how little you were and that I could do so much better. Say, an FBI agent with an IQ of 187." Once again she turned and this time she didn't even bother looking back.

The drive to her apartment was long, mostly because she didn't drive there, but to Spencer Reid's home. She felt her palms sweat, she hated admitting she was wrong, but she hated not having Spencer around much more than a bruised ego. She knocked on the door and Spencer opened, he looked confused, but as soon as he registered her in he simply raised an eyebrow and changed his confused demeanor to a completely neutral.

"I came to tell you that you were right. He just wanted to get in pants." There was no response, and she fiddled with her hands. "I actually thought he wanted to apologize, and I think part of me just wanted to believe that for the first time I was not being used, that people actually cared about what I felt."

"There are people that care about you, they are just not the wants you wanted to."

"No, they are! I thought I needed the people who wronged me to fix it, to show me that I was worth the trouble when in reality all I needed was for me to understand that I was. And I just needed a reminder that the people that care about me are the ones that should matter the most." A trace of a smile formed on his lips. "I am so sorry about how I acted, and I am sorry I left you here waiting for me. Spencer Reid, you are my best friend and you come before any other jerk out there. I need you to know that this time in which I didn't have you with me was miserable. I missed you so much I spent the whole dinner with Tyler talking about you."

"You did?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, I did. I missed you, and I hope we never fight again, I don't know what I would do without your friendship."

"I missed you too." She bit her lip, and he smiled. "Wanna come in and watch TV?"

"I would love that."

"That's good to hear, I am trying to get Spence here to watch Dance Moms with me but he refuses, maybe if there is two of us, he'll change his mind." A voice inside his apartment spoke. He opened the door to reveal Emily Prentiss wearing Pjs with The Hunger Games symbols on them. "May I say, you look hot. Blue suits you."

"So I've been told."

"Are you sure you can handle being in that close all night though? Maybe Spencer can lend you one of his shirts." She said, winking at them.

"Has she been drinking?"

"It's her third bottle of wine."

"We need to cut her off."

"Yeah, we do." He smiled at her, "She's right though, if you want to borrow something more comfortable let me know."

"Careful Spencer Reid, I might take you up on that."

"Awwww, YOU TWO ARE ADORABLE!" The woman screamed. "Just get married already!"

The pair laughed and made their way to the sofa, she closed the door behind her and sat down, feeling whole for the first time this week. Emily and Spencer were the best friends a girl could ask for, and she couldn't think of a better way to spend the rest of her night than watching trash TV with the two of them as they laughed and joked.

It was home. 

[webrokethemoon]

ALL OF THEM O_o for the jjba ask thingy (jkjk you don't have to do all or them or any of them if you don't want to^^)

Doll, you know ily, and I am hella bored, but why?

Star Platinum – Your thoughts on the stars?I freaking love the stars

Magician’s Red – Do you know any magic tricks?Does doing witchcraft count?

Hermit Purple – Show a photo of yourself!No

Hierophant Green – What’s your favourite shade of green?Emerald, forest, or sea foam green

Silver Chariot (Requiem) – How much sleep do you need on average?It varies…a lot. But maybe like 6 hours at the most

The Fool – Tell us a joke!Why did Adele cross the road?To say hello from the other side! *ba dum ching*

The World - A place you want to visit?Africa, all of it.

Crazy Diamond – What do you treasure the most?My friends and my grandfathers pocket watch

The Hand – Do you like your hands?Only when I have long nails

Echoes – Your favourite sound?The sound of a thunderstorm

Heaven’s Door – Share a secret!I ate a cockroach as a little kid

Killer Queen – How would you like to die?I want to be one of those stories parents tell their kids at night. I want to walk into a forest one day and never come out. People will say that I’ve become one with the forest and my ghost resides there helping people who have lost their way or that I’m out caring for the creatures, so basically a guardian of the forest.

Bad Company – What kind of character trades do you dislike?I think meant to say traits and I don’t like when the character that is weak and acknowledges it, but does nothing to change that.

Red Hot Chili Pepper – Can you handle spicy food?Hell yeah I can

The Lock – Anything you feel guilty about right now?Not atm, but pretty soon I probably will

Love Deluxe – Are you secretly in love with someone right now?Yes, myself

Pearl Jam – Your signature dish?I love all food

Achtung Baby – Do you want kids?Do animals count? I’d probably adopt, but other than that not really.

Harvest – Do you pick up coins in from the street?Depends

Cinderella – Which part of your body do you like the most?…

Atom Heart Father – How is your relationship with your father?It’s okay. We don’t talk much, he’s not around a lot, but whatever

Enigma – What is puzzling you currently?How people can manage to prove that they truly are idiots and have the worst and most unqualified person going into a major power. (If you don’t like what I have to say about him, unfollow me rn.)

Earth Wind and Fire – What’s the best classical element?Water

Stray Cat – Cats or dogs?Both

Gold Experience – A precious experience you have not shared with your followers?I took care of a baby bird one time. He was adorable, and I’m glad I could help him.

Sticky Fingers – Zippers or buttons?Buttons

Moody Blues – A song that makes you sad?Battle cry by sia ft. Angel haze

Sex Pistols – Have you ever shot a gun or riffle?Nope, but I’d like to learn how just in case

Aerosmith – Are you afraid of flights?Nope

Purple Haze – What makes you really anrgy?When people fuck with the ones I care about or when they act like they’re superior than others

Spice Girl – Your favourite spice?Cayenne for daaayyysss

King Crimson – Is it possible to predict the future?Maybe, but I believe it can be altered

Black Sabbath – How easily do you trust people?Too easily, it’s bad

Man in the Mirror – Do you like looking into the mirror?Fuck no

Beach Boy – Have you ever been fishing?Defiantly not

The Grateful Dead – What do you want to be remembered for?Being there to support and help people when they need it

White Album – Your favourite CD?Too many

Talking Head – Are you a good liar?I’m okay

Baby Face – Your thought on babies?Wouldn’t want one of my own, but they’re okay

Metallica – Do you like listening to metal?No, not really

Green Day – Ideal way to spend a day off?Being a burrito in my bed watching a good anime

Oasis – Best place for a holiday?Home

Stone Free – Are you a indoor or outdoor person?Outdoor to an extent

Kiss – Who would you like to kiss or get a kiss from?This list is too damn long and half them aren’t even real

Burning Down the House – Ever destroyed something and then regretted it?My life

Foo Fighters – Your favourite drink?Mellow yellow

Diverdown – Your thoughts on diving?Never done it, but I would love to one day

C-Moon – What would you do for your friend’s sake?Anything

MadeinHeaven – What do you believe happens after you died?I’m not really sure. I think everyone has a choice of how they want it, so you get a choice to be reincarnated, sent to heaven or hell, wander the earth as a ghost, etc. it depends on what you believe.

Weather Report – Your favourite weather?Thunderstorms and fog

Whitesnake – Your thoughts on snakes/reptiles?If you know Dr. Montgomery Montgomery from Series of Unfortunate Events, basically him

Tusk – Tea or coffee?Both

Ball Breaker – Your favourite ball game?Water polo or volleyball

Oh! Lonesome Me – Do you feel lonely right now?Yes

Scary Monsters – Your favourite dinosaur?Brachiosaurus

Cream Starter – Do you usually wear make up?Sometimes, but not often

Catch the Rainbow – Your favourite colour in the rainbow?Blue

Ticket to Ride – What was the last ticket you bought for?Green Day at Wrigley field ayyeeee

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap – Do you believe in the multiverse? Yes

In a Silent Way – Do you enjoy complete silence?It’s nice sometimes

Soft & Wet – Shower or bath?Both

Paisley Park – How good are you with reading maps/directions?You do NOT want me telling you directions ask @yourvegetasmellsbad

Nut King Call – How good are you at assembling/constructing things like Ikea furniture?Okay, but not the best

Paper Moon King – Can you do any origami?Hell no

King Nothing – Your favourite smell?Lavender or the smell of earth just after it rains

BornThisWay – A strange habit you have?My pillows have to be puffy and the tag on the blanket must be at the end near my feet

Les Feulies – Your favourite plant?Lavender

Fun Fun Fun – Something you really enjoy doing?Being outside

California King Bed – What size is your bed?Queen

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings