#modering!vikings imagine

[lomohoney]

Smiley face of mars

Just as on Earth, volcanoes periodically spew lava over the planet’s surface. Still another pair of scientists suggested a single impact from just one object could have created the planet’s two faces.īy studying data from two spacecraft, NASA’s Mars Odyssey and the Mars Global Surveyor, a team of planetary scientists was able to look below the surface of a recent lava flow on the Martian surface. Others thought that over time the colliding meteorites, comets or other objects could have shaved off four kilometers of crust from the northern hemisphere. Some suggested that processes deep below the planet’s surface gave Mars different kinds of crust in the two hemispheres. What could account for these differences? It’s been a topic of debate for decades. In fact, the entire southern hemisphere of Mars is about four kilometers higher than the northern hemisphere. Another NASA spacecraft, the Mars Global Surveyor, later showed that the planet’s crust is also thicker in the south than in the north. The south appeared rugged, dotted with craters and mountains. Surprisingly, those images showed that northern Mars looks very different from southern section of the planet. The spacecraft sent back the first close-up maps and images anyone had ever seen of the Martian surface. That’s when NASA scientists launched the Viking spacecraft into orbit around Mars. The debate started more than 30 years ago. Their findings answer a question that has long puzzled scientists: Why do the Red Planet’s northern and southern hemispheres look so different from one another? Now, scientists say one of these massive collisions knocked off much of the top of Mars, our planetary neighbor. This illustration was created from Caltech simulations of the impact, one of three recent studies to support the idea that the uneven surface was created by a single impact. The impact itself, illustrated here, may have given Mars its unusual “two faces” - af high, cratered crust in the southern hemisphere and smooth, low crust in the north. Mars may be home to the solar system’s largest impact crater, hidden below lava. These could knock off huge chunks of rock, some that eventually became moons, and left the surfaces of the planets forever changed. But when the solar system first took shape, asteroids and other objects regularly slammed into each other. The image is about 5 kilometers across.When you look up at the night sky, it’s hard to imagine the violent, chaotic place our solar system was billions of years ago. The Happy Face crater snapped by HiRISE on December 13, 2020, at 4.58 pm local Mars time. Understanding these climate trends is important in our quest for human exploration and the possibility of populating another planet by determining if Mars has ever or could ever have the right conditions to support life. Longer observations give an insight into long-term climate trends on Mars. Measuring these changes helps scientists understand the annual cycle of deposits and removal of the polar frost. By 2020, these dips had grown larger and merged into one. When the Sun shines on it, the ice melts, skipping the liquid phase and turning directly into a vapor, causing erosion on the surface.Īs you can see in the image above, the "nose" in 2011 consisted of two circular depressions. During a Martian winter, carbon dioxide freezes, building up a thin layer of dry ice on the ground. Mars is a very cold planet due to its thin atmosphere and lack of oceans to moderate temperatures. According to HiRISE team member Ross Beyer, "The 'blobby' features in the polar cap are due to the Sun sublimating away the carbon dioxide into these round patterns." Sublimation is when a solid bypasses the liquid phase and turns into a gas.

[hornyorca]

Of All The Phenomenon’s In The World.

Ragnarssons x Modern!Reader.

I blame FOB for my title length.

This is basically Vikings meets modern times with a little bit of the avengers thrown in. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life and I can’t even apologize for it.

I blame @cryogenik @kirah34 @dani-si​ for this. It’ll get to the fun stuff soon. don’t worry. I plan on there being lots of exploration if yOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

mostly @cryogenik​. mostly.

warnings: cursing. i think that’s it.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid I can’t do that for you.” Flew between your lips for probably the thousandth time in a single hour, the dark circles under your eyes more prominent than when you forced yourself out of bed this morning.

Gladly enough, as your eyes rolled furthering into the back of your skull with each passing moment, you didn’t have a face to match the ungodly voice grinding through the phone, “Well, find me someone who can.”

Whoever was listening up above give you patience, because if you had strength, you might actually burn the entire building to the ground. Curling your hand into a fist, you slowly motioned punching the sleek black receiver on your desk as a punctuation to each word. “Again, he is in a meeting at the moment, and cannot come to the phone. I am not allowed to give out anymore information than that.”

There was a moment of silence, one that seemed blissful and sweet, but did not last long enough. “So, I can call back later then and he’ll be available?”

Your hands met in front of your face, palms together in a praying motion, and you almost hissed: “Yes.”

“Okay then, I’ll just call back later, I guess,” She sneered, and you silently gagged. “It would of been nice had you suggested it earlier instead of wasting my time, you know.”

The dial tone followed and for a moment you simply sat, legs spread improperly wide, forearms supporting yourself against the cold desk, and eyes unfocused on your CEO’s door. Several muted gestures flew from your hands at the phone, ripping your bluetooth off and chucking it in the trash can, and you began a slow breathing method.

“You know, that’s a 300 dollar piece of equipment,” Be damned with formalities, you didn’t even bother to turn your head.

“Mr. Stark  —  “

“Ah-ah, I’m sorry, who are you looking for?”

A little part of you died inside each time he made you do this, and you internally sobbed with both words. “Crimson Dynamo.”

“Continue,” Tony gestured, swiveling his hand around, and you vaguely noticed him tinkering with your Newton’s Cradle.

Inhaling deeply, you were finally frustrated to have enough courage to finally tell your boss exactly how you were feeling about everything you dealt with. “Look, I love being your assistant, I really do — “

“Of course you do.”

Ignoring that comment, you went on, “ — But I’m here to help you take care of business, not help throw turn down your one-night swings for you in the process!” There was no comment, and when you looked at him, his brown eyes were focused on the little contraption, and your fingers twitched. “Mr. Stark!” You pleaded, slamming your hands down on the table.

“Oh, I’m listening,” He assured you, not sparing you a glance, but his finger stopped poking. “Or does it bother you that I’m playing with my balls?”

There was a momentary pause before you leaned forward and swiped away the distraction, and dropping it in the trash. “And now they’re back where they belong.”

“Ouch,” Tony made a thoughtful look, his brown eyes looking sadly into the trash.

Your nails tapped on the desk, one following the other as you glanced down at the fancy watch on your wrist waiting for him to finish mourning his new loss. “How was the meeting that you refused to let me go to?” It was no secret that Tony Stark was Ironman anymore, and that meetings for the Avengers were held right in this tower, and it always crawled under your skin to be so close yet so far away from them.

Of course, you had met a few of them at a passing glance, got introduced, but you were a part of no official business. That didn’t stop a few of them from getting your phone number, much to Tony’s annoyance on how everyone tried to play with his toys.

He was such a child sometimes.

“Boyfriend break up with you?” A nonchalant response, completely irrelevant. You squinted at the screen, fingers pausing on your keyboard as you were slowly booking his next meeting that actually had to do with business you were a part of. “Goldfish die?” Each question made your brows furrow deeper as you slowly turned in your chair, looking at him like he had gone mad.

“What?”

His finger tapped his chin several times, analyzing gaze on you. “There’s got to be a reason you’re so bitter lately.”

Offended, you jerked back a bit. “I am not — “

Tony snapped, slowly pointing both fingers at you in a western gun shoot-out. “When was the last time you had a vacation.”

You could never remember a time in your life that you felt your emotions switch so much than when you were around him, this time suspicion came over you. “When did you become so generous.”

“See! Right there!” He exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger inches from your nose. “You’re going to ruin this company with your negative vibes, and we don’t have that here.”

Glancing around, you openly gestured to the fact it was basically only you and him on the entire floor, because he felt the need to have an entire floor for his office. “We?”

He nodded, suddenly setting a bag on the high-rise of your desk. “Exactly, and that’s why I got you this.” Rolling down the bag, he revealed a little Bonzai.

Slight disappointment came over your features as you looked at the tiny tree, a singular leaf on it’s branch. “Is this my vacation?”

“Close,” Tony began to explain, “It’s a hint that has to do with your vacation.”

“You’re... sending me to China?”

“No,” His finger pointed at the miniature plant, a million dollar grin cracking his face. “Think of what the Bonzai represents.”

“Peace? Serenity?”

“Yes, and yes. That’s your vacation — I mean, peace is what you millennial’s are all about these days, right?”

There was no amusement in your features. “Did you just call me a millennial?”

Stark’s hands drummed on the surface of your desk until he reached the very end. “I don’t wanna see you or hear from you for three weeks, got it? Or at least until positive emotions are seeping from your pores.”

“That’s disgusting to think about.”

“Three weeks!”

Your fingers danced along your steering wheel, eyes jumping around the area as your foot tapped in impatience at your GPS. “Please, turn around.” And you ripped it off your dash, flicking it into the back seat without a care, your car still parked on the side of the road. Giving your face one last rub with your hands, you put your car back in drive and floored it, not bothering to double-check if anyone was coming up behind you.

Of course, getting lost on your way home was a wonderful way to start your vacation. Apparently, your GPS, no matter how much money you had spent on it, didn’t know how to navigate around tons of road construction and unfortunately, that was the only way you knew home. It didn’t help with the rain pouring down either. You only hoped your house wasn’t flooded.

You lived in a little rural area outside of NYC, with the beach practically in your backyard. You’d been there for about two years now, Mr. Stark having moved you out of the motel you had been living in, since, in the time you started working for him your actual apartment was almost an hour away. A year later, he had followed you home one night, claiming it was an experiment on what normal people do after work, and after finding out where you lived, he gifted you with a set of keys the next day. At first, you refused them, until he informed you that the contract was already in your name and rent would be paid to him. The rent eventually came down to nothing, and you took care of everything for yourself.

You couldn’t lie, while your boss got on your nerves at times, that job was a god-sent gift, and you don’t even want to think of where you would be without it, or without him.

Groaning, the rain continued to pour, only coming in thicker waves as time went on, and by the time you arrived at your house, you couldn’t even see the drive way. Sitting for a moment, you looked around your car and slapped the steering wheel, throwing yourself back against the seat and crossing your arms. You honestly have had the worst day, and just wanted to go inside and go to sleep, and you kept telling yourself it could be worse.

It could be worse.

It is worse.

Jolting forward, your head barely brushed the steering wheel as it seemed like an earthquake shook the ground, and immediately the rain quit pouring, calming to a small drizzle. You stayed still, barely breathing as you stared idly out the blurry window. Through the running droplets, you vaguely made out dark colors on your property.

Oh God. Oh God.

So many things had happened in NYC, and yet you were living here, and this would probably be the moment you would regret it. You figured, being mixed up in the business of Tony Stark you would die at a young age, from something he would do, or someone would see you as leverage for a kidnapping. Clenching your eyes tight, you let out air in multiple spurts. 

You thought you’d face a regular fate, like getting stabbed or shot by a mugger, or a crack addict, or being held hostage in a bank robbery. You know, the normal things that happen in big cities. Not have some HYDRA agent hunt down your ass, or some other-worldly mortal enemy of Tony, or god knows who. 

Trying to calm down, you quietly mumbled to yourself, trying to tell yourself: “Maybe it’s just Thor visiting... or Loki... or something.” For some reason, the two Norse Gods had taken a quick liking to you, frequently talking to you and visiting when they had the time. But lately, Loki had not been coming around and Thor did not seem to willing to talk, so you were left to wonder and worry, but were assured he was still alive and well.

Not that you were sure that made you feel any better or worse.

Rubbing furiously at your face, you reached your free hand over to pop open the door, and your foot was immediately calf deep in water. Slight tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you shook them away as you didn’t give a damn anymore, climbing out the car. Though, when you looked towards your house, you saw five figures; one laying in the grass coughing and sputtering, another clutching his side as he looked off into the distance, a blonde laying on his back in the grass with his face covered, and the other two were holding onto each other.

Those definitely were not Thor or Loki.

Not to mention the fucking boat in your backyard.

Immediate panic rushed through you, gut dropping at the scene of them dressed up in what looked like ancient armor, axes strapped to their bodies. Wetting your drying lips, you slowly crouched down as none of them noticed you, glancing off down the road where your neighbor lived. Granted, he was the closest one and was about 4 miles down the road, but maybe if you tried hard enough you could get away. You grimaced thinking about escaping on foot, but judging by the risen water-level on the road, you had a feeling you wouldn’t make it far by your vehicle. It looked like you were lucky you made it home.

Wiping sweat from your forehead, you tried to calm your pounding heart and shaking hands that gripped the door of the car as you peaked around it. Though you wished you hadn’t — the figure on the ground aggressively pointed at you, yelling something that you weren’t sure you even wanted to understand, and two bulky figures began stalking towards you.

“Fuck me,” You breathed, taking off towards the flooded road on foot. 

You’d feel better if you died trying to get away rather than not, even if that was an 70 dollar skirt.

[scandinavianfairytale]

Him & I

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Warnings: Summer time fun, (inappropriate) ice cream consumption, so much domesticity & lots of old married couple style bantering, so many feelings 🥰🥺, Ivar & Reader are too cute 🥰 but their partners are getting suspicious 😬😅

It was unusually hot this summer. So much so that you accepted Ivar's invitation to his family house on Anholt island for a few days for this heatwave to pass. The Lothbroks rented the Air Taxi for the whole extended bunch, now including Freydis, Erik, Tora and you.

The extended weekend everyone took off work was much appreciated as well as the swim in the cold Atlantic ocean. Everyone got along very well, playing volleyball and board games, cooking big meals together and playing drinking games in the evenings.

But then the reality caught up with them and Monday evening came and everyone started packing. The whole mood changed. You were complaining to Erik about not wanting to go back to the city and the heat and the responsibilities.

"I get it, but the more you complain, the harder it'll be to connect back tomorrow. I can help you pack, if you want." Erik suggested as he glanced at his watch.

"No, it's fine."

Erik walked downstairs with his suitcase and sat on it as he waited in the entryway.

"Where's your better half?" Freydis asked as she sat down on her suitcase next to him.

"Upstairs complaining about not wanting to leave." He chuckled.

"I can't wait to get back to the city. There is a concert I'm dying to go to this Friday."

"Same. I'm so excited to return home, even with the heatwave...I really don't like living out of the suitcase."

"Hey Ivar, can you check on Miss Always Complaining upstairs? I fear she just unpacked everything in protest." Erik joked as he saw Ivar going up the stairs.

You were staring at the folded clothes and grimacing when a knock on the door startled you.

"Geez Erik, I'm almost done, okay?" You called at the door, but then Ivar opened it and you sighed.

"It's just you."

"Thanks for that." Ivar laughed and folded his arms over his chest, observing your pouty packing.

"Sorry...it's just...I really don't like the idea of going back to work." You sighed, leaning back on the bed.

"I know. You hadn't had a break in over 9 months, minus Christmas." He walked in the room, sitting next to you on the floor.

"I really needed this..." you gestured at the house. "but I'm still so tired and the idea that I'll have to log back in tomorrow is making me nauseous."

"Do you want to stay?" Ivar asked as he observed you.

"No...I can't, you went through so much trouble to organize the air taxi and everyone took their vacations...I can't ask anyone to stay."

"Well you're not asking. I'm asking. And I'm only asking you." You met his eyes. "If you say you need more, we can make that happen. We just call our bosses and ask for a few more days. They'll manage without us."

"You'll stay too?" You asked surprised.

"Someone has to make sure you don't get into trouble." Ivar laughed.

"I think you must've us confused. I'm the one that keeps you away from trouble, not the other way around." You laughed as well.

"Hey, you two," Torvi's voice came booming through the hallway but she stopped talking and smiled as her head poked through the door and she saw you two sitting on the floor laughing. "How about you two move your butts to the taxi and continue your conversation there."

"We're staying for a few more days." Ivar replied simply, smiling at Torvi.

"Alone?" Torvi's eyebrows fused with her hairline. "I mean Erik and Freydis aren't staying with you?"

"I haven't asked Erik...but he made it clear he doesn't want to stay..." You shrugged your shoulders.

"And Freydis wants to go to a concert." Ivar added.

"Well...okay then. Have fun." Torvi smirked as she walked away. Maybe this time alone will finally make you realize that you are with wrong partners.

As she arrived downstairs without the two missing pieces Erik and Freydis wondered where you were.

~Freydis & Ivar~

"What do you mean you're staying?" Freydis asked, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at him.

"She needs this, I told you that I'm worried about her."

"She's an adult, I'm pretty sure she doesn't need you to take care of her. Besides, I really want to go to that concert I've been telling you about for months now."

"And I told you I don't want to go. I thought we agreed that you're going to go with your friends." Ivar sighed. He had this conversation for what feels like 10000 times.

"Yeah, but I wanted to sleep at your place."

"I can give you the keys if that's the issue."

"You're really going to leave me alone for the whole week?" Freydis was getting annoyed.

"Are you suggesting I leave my friend of 10 years alone in the middle of nowhere so that I wait for you one night to get home after a party?" Ivar asked incredulously.

"I guess it's not a discussion, is it? Enjoy your time away from me." Freydis glared and walked away. Ivar pinched the bridge of his nose.

~Erik & you~

"Look, I get that you're tired, but avoiding going back to work won't make it magically disappear..." Erik tried to persuade you.

"Erik, we've been through this. I'm stressed and I need a break."

"You just had a break." Your boyfriend pointed out confused.

"Two days is not a break."

"It was a break for me."

"Well I'm not you. Also our jobs are significantly different, so I'd appreciate it if you'd stop disregarding something that you have no idea about." You bit back at him. You hated having this conversation. Erik went in to hug you, but you pushed him away.

"You're right, maybe it'll be good if you took some time away from the city and relaxed." He said stiffly and kissed your cheek, before walking away.

After everyone left the house felt quiet and empty.

"What put you in a sour mood?" You asked as you studied Ivar's frowning face.

"How about we don't talk about it?" He suggested and plopped down on the couch. You sat next to him and together you sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I didn't mean for you to be quiet." Ivar's head resting on the sofa turned to you.

"I know. I don't wanna talk either. Can we watch TV and then go to sleep. I promise I'll be better company tomorrow." You gave him a haphazard smile.

"Erik?" Ivar asked. You nodded.

"Freydis?" You asked a few seconds later. Ivar nodded. You sighed and Ivar turned on the TV. You ended up watching a romantic comedy The Lost City and laughed throughout the movie and continued with Modern Family, both of you falling asleep somewhere in the middle of Season 2, completely exhausted.

When Ivar woke up the next morning completely stiff, the first thing he needed to do was stretch and the cracking of his bones woke you up.

"This was the perfect place to sleep." You giggled and yawned at the same time.

"I think this means we're old." He sighed as his back cracked.

"You're old, my bones are still fine." You joked, but when you stood up and stretched everything started cracking.

"Yup, that's the sound of a young person." Ivar joked.

It was nice spending time alone with Ivar again. Since the relationship with Freydis became more serious - when he told her he loved her, it seemed to you as though she has been permanently glued to Ivar.

For the next 5 days Ivar spoiled you, he let you sleep in even though he is usually up at 6 am and he made sure pancakes were always waiting for you when you woke up.

"You don't have to make me pancakes, Ivar. I'm sure there are better things for you to do than wait for me to get up." You said on your second day.

"You could just say thank you, you know." Ivar grinned at your happy expression.

"Thank you." You smiled sweetly at him.

"I really don't mind making pancakes. Besides they make you so happy that if I didn't make them, I'd feel guilty."

"They do make me really happy." You giggled and cut a big chunk of a Nutella stuffed pancake.

After the clean-up you made your way to the small beach and enjoyed the recluse from the heat that the soft Atlantic breeze provided. You were finally nearing the end of the book you have been reading for the last 7 months, when Ivar reappeared from somewhere holding two ice-creams and offered you the lemon flavoured one.

Humming your thank you, you pounced on the ice cream, hoping for the internal cool-down of your body. Glancing at Ivar he gulped down the ice cream - like he always did and you shook your head, focusing your attention on the book again.

"Ugh...brain freeze." Ivar shuddered and held his temples.

"That would imply you have a brain..." You replied, not glancing away from your book. You could feel his glare on you and you couldn't help but grin. Looking up, you only caught a glimpse of him leaning over and smearing his ice cream on your nose.

"Nose freeze." He laughed as you shrieked at the cool ice.

After the sun weakened you went to the water to cool down and finally swim for a bit. Ivar had a very different strategy of entering the water - while you ran in and dove head first, he liked to take his time.

"Hey, grandpa Grumpy, are you coming in or not?" You called from a few feet away, droplets of ocean water dripping down your forehead.

"Screw you, it's so cold!" Ivar called at you, slowly making progress by splashing a bit of water on his body to get accustomed to the change in temperature. A wicked smile crossed your lips and you dove underneath the water surface, swimming towards him and reappearing right in front of him.

"Boo." You grinned.

"I get why your parents call you Mermaid." Ivar smiled at you. You perched up at the shoreline, the top part of your body out of the water and the lower part submerged.

"When I was little my favourite fairytale was The Little Mermaid. And I thought that if I just stay in the water long enough, I'd grow a tail. So I would swim and dive and wait for my tail to finally appear but my parents always forcefully removed me from the water because my lips turned blue and they were scared for me." Smiling at the memory you gazed at the vast ocean. "I really thought that if I just tough it out, I'd finally get my wish. That's why they still call me Little Mermaid." Your eyes focused on Ivar again who was now turned towards you and sporting a soft smile.

A loud curse tore from his throat as you splashed water at him.

"You're such a baby. The water is not even that cold." You laughed.

"You just wait. I'll make you pay."

"Only if you can catch me." You stuck your tongue out at him and dove back in the water.

Your battle continued in the water with both of you splashing and dunking each other. You were so loud that in the end only the two of you remained in the water while everyone else packed their bags and left.

Giggling like the two idiots that you were, you made your way back to the house to make dinner and watch the series again.

🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊

"We're going back tomorrow." Ivar pointed out as you watched Modern Family. Burying your face into a pillow, you groaned.

"Don't spoil our last day here."

"I've been wanting to ask you something for a while now...this might be the last chance I'll get."

Pausing the show you turned to him, crossing your legs under you, ready for a 'real talk'. You motioned for him to continue.

"You know your opinion means a lot to me..." Ivar paused and you slowly nodded. "I noticed a few things recently and I wanted to ask you what you thought about Freydis?" Searching his eyes, you were surprised by the question.

"She's okay. I mean I wouldn't call her my friend, but I don't mind her." You shrugged your shoulders.

"Okay, but I want to hear your opinion on her with me."

"As long as you're happy, I'm happy." You forced a smile on your face.

"That doesn't answer my question." Ivar rolled his eyes.

"I don't think my opinion is needed here. You're the one dating her, so what I think has no value."

"But when you say things like that, it makes me think you really don't like her."

"Why do you need to hear what I think, especially if you think I have a not so great opinion of her?"

"Because if this relationship will be long-term, I don't want to lose you, because deep down you don't like her." Ivar averted his eyes from you. "You mean so much to me. We've been friends for such a long time and no relationship is worth compromising that. So, please, tell me what you think."

Running your fingers through your scalp and sighing, you observed him.

"Ugh, fine. I think she's kind of rude, selfish, opinionated bordering on judgy and controlling." Ivar remained quiet. "But my opinion of your girlfriend shouldn't be a factor in your relationship. I only experience a fraction of her and I have no way of knowing how she is when you're alone. Our friendship is not going to end because I might not be the biggest fan of her. I promise." You smiled.

"She is very opinionated, isn't she?" He laughed a few silent moments later.

"Very much so. You know I have no problem with that in general, but on Sunday I couldn't get even a word in when she went on a rampage on the meat industry. And when anyone wanted to say something she just disregarded everything or refused to listen."

"I remember and then everyone just started talking about other things and she was insulted." Ivar mused. You scratched your temple at that, looking away from him and gathering the courage.

"Since we're on the subject...care to share your thoughts on Erik?" You met his eyes. It was his turn to be uncomfortable.

"He's okay."

"But...?" You continued for him, making him sigh.

"He's not exactly the guy I thought you'd end up dating."

"Meaning what?"

"Look this is just somethings I picked up on and I might be exaggerating...but he tends to disregard you and your worries, he's manipulative, he doesn't get your humor and he has a ridiculously high opinion of himself."

You slowly nodded.

"You know I've been having the feeling that he's trying to manipulate me sometimes..." You felt a pang in your heart.

"You're not an easy person to manipulate."

"I thought you'd be with a different kind of person too..." You finally said and Ivar's heart skipped a beat.

Thank you for reading! 💙🥰

The GIFs are not mine - they belong to the amazing creators 🙏😊

I'm back at the Ivar x Reader train and this time with a long story 😁 I'm trying to get a few stories out these days because I'm leaving in 2 days for a month and I have no idea how much time I'll have for writing during the trip 🙈 but I am so excited, 5 weeks away from here and with my favourite people 💙🥰

This is me when I tell people I'm going for 5 weeks 🤭😁👇

[alexhandersenx]

There’s no one to save me

Ivar/Reader (Modern AU)

A/N: Hi everyone! First and most important thing, HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!!💕🎉🎂 @flowers-in-your-hayr I want to wish you all the best on this day, I hope you enjoy this day as much as possible and hope this can make it a bit better! This year may not have been our best birthdays but next year we’ll celebrate them twice! You know I really admire your work but much more as a person! Thank you for always being so so nice, you’re great!💖

Second, here it is, me and my shitty writing. This is the first time I ever write anything (you’ll see) but a lovely little bird came and told me about this amazing surprise (@maggiescarborough​ 💖) and I couldn’t refuse. This is the moodboard I chose bc when I asked Gabi about it, I wrote more of a mini fic than a request (sorry about that, honey😅) so I thought it’ll be easier since I already have an idea.

And finally, to say that this can be considered as the first chapter of a small fic???, Idk,  if you want to read something else, I will continue it and if not, it can stay as a imagine. (Any feedback you want to give is always welcomed and will help me in the future!)

Okay that’s all, I think. Now I'll shut my mouth and let you guys read in peace😊

All credits to this amazing moodboard for the birthday girl @flowers-in-your-hayr​

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: First time writing (biggest warning), mention of death and suicide, cursing, drug dealing, a bit of angst, English not being my mother tongue. (I’m not sure if something else😅).

There you were, (Y/N) (Y/LN), facing the most important case you had encountered in your professional career, which, to tell the truth, was not very long. You were 24 years old and you were a policewoman at the local police station on a small island called Samsø, which together with some others as Læsø, Anholt and Sjælland were known as the 'Kattegat Islands'.

You started there when you were 22, with a lot of effort and after years of dedication, yes, it may sound like a joke, since you were very young, but since your father passed away, you decided to follow in his footsteps. He had become chief of police and worked in what was now your office. His death occurred unexpectedly, one day he went to work and didn't come back, your mother and you didn't know anything, but he had been working on a drug-related case for a long time, and they didn't clarify anything for you after his death either, justifying that it was a case of high danger and a secret file.

When your father died, you were given the belongings he was carrying on the day of his death. You didn't find anything out of the ordinary, just his watch, which had his initials on it, the car keys and his wallet, in which he carried the usual: some money, credit cards and a picture of  your mother and you as a child. From one of the compartments of the wallet, a small fragment of a photo was sticking out. It was very enlarged, only a small part of the face could be seen, it looked like a man, but his face didn't sound familiar to you and besides the fragment was very damaged, so you didn't give it much importance. Although you were intrigued to know the reason for that fragment in your father's wallet and you wanted to know the identity of that person, unfortunately you couldn't do anything about it. You put the items back in the bag and kept it in a drawer that you knew you wouldn't open often since it was with the rest of his belongings.

After this incident, you and your mother faced a difficult time when living at home without him was almost impossible. After a not very long period, you were able to return to your daily life and continued, but however, your mother did not get back on her feet, she went into a great depression. You tried psychologists at first and slowly it looked like she was getting better, but it seems she only did it to fall into an even bigger black hole.

From then on, you contacted a psychiatrist, after a year watching your mother was consumed with sadness you couldn't stand it any longer, even though she was resistant to taking medication you couldn't do anything else. She had been going to the psychiatrist for some time and the truth was that it wasn't going as you expected, your mother had a very negative attitude. She tried to avoid medication when you didn't force her, and for that reason none of the treatments worked.

You were desperate, time was passing, and you didn't know what to do anymore, until one day when you came home and you found your mother breathing very lightly and not responding to any kind of stimulus. She had decided to take her own life with a bottle of pills, yes, how ironic. When she was taken to the hospital, the doctors told you that her vital signs were very bad, the intake of medication had to be over six hours ago, and this had already affected a large part of the system. It was very difficult for her to survive, so much so that she couldn't.

21 years, just 21 years when you were left alone in the world, when everyone was getting drunk and having a hangover and throwing up the next morning, you were there struggling to get where you were today.

Although you couldn't have reached that point without the unconditional support of your father's great friend, Officer Heahmund. He had been like a second father to you, the only one you could lean on when these events occurred. Both he and his wife Anne and their little twins always had a place for you.

You could say you'd been investigating the case for a year and it was huge, really huge. Both you and your colleagues had reached an impasse, you couldn't get anything new, so you decided to take the reins and make a proposal... raid the shelter where the organization was hiding. You had managed, after a long time of tracking them down, to find out that every Thursday at 11.30 p.m. they went out to do business. If you calculated it perfectly, you could set up an ambush, surround the perimeter with your agents strategically, and force your way in, so you could examine the interior for clear, incriminating evidence and wait for them to come back and finally catch them and finish the damn case. From that point on, the game would begin.

Ivar Lothbrook, or also known as Ivar the Boneless, was the person you were chasing. Known to be the leader of the organization. Information about him was quite scarce, the son of a bitch knew how to remain anonymous, you didn't even know what he looked like. Although he also took part in the weekly excursions, he never got out of the vehicle they were in and you didn't dare get close enough to the shelter to see them leave, just as a precaution, so as not to spoil the case. All you knew was that the nickname he had earned was due to a disease he suffered from that made him unable to walk, Osteogenesis Imperfecta.

But you did know something else about his brothers, who were in charge of leading the band when they were doing field work and his brother Ivar was not there. There were three more brothers, the elder Ubbe, the second Hvitserk and the last Sigurd. You had pictures of them, which you had studied to a tee, and they didn't have any kind of background, something that caught your attention because in all these bands it's something common, but it seems that they were playing clean.

Tomorrow would be the big day and you had no margin for error. You decided to leave it at that, not think about it anymore. You opened a bottle of wine and ordered dinner at your favourite restaurant. You were going to enjoy that night quietly before going into action.

That night you practically didn't rest, your head didn't stop thinking and you were fighting against it for a long time, until finally you were victorious, being able to sleep. You promised yourself that it wouldn't be the only thing you would be victorious in.

The sound of the alarm woke you up, it was very early, although there were still hours to go, you had to be ready and needed to do certain things before preparing. You had arranged to meet at 8pm at the police station, you would go over the plan and wait until 10.30pm to put the plan into action. The day went away, you had gone out to buy some things that you needed, you had done some sport to clear your mind and you had taken a bath for an hour and a half which helped to relax each of your muscles that had been in constant tension for several days.

You got out of the shower, you started to fix yourself and for a moment you looked in the mirror, from bottom to top, and you looked into your eyes, you saw your father, you saw him in you.

- “Ivar, Ivar, what little freedom you have left” - You said in a defiant voice as you kept looking at yourself and feeling sure that everything would go as you planned.

What you didn't consider at the time is that in a game you don't always win, and even less when you don't know your opponent.

A phone call took you out of your thoughts, you hesitated for a few seconds before reacting, you went into the kitchen and picked up the phone:

- “Hi, (Y/N) here”.

- “Hello, sweetheart, how are you?” Your boss asked with some concern in his voice.

-  “I'm doing good, getting ready to leave soon. Anything happened?”

-  “No, nothing, I just wanted to remind you, that you still have time to stop this, I can send another partner, I don't want you to do this out of obligation” - said Heahmund, with some hesitation.

- “Heahmund, we've talked about this a million times, I'm gonna take care of it. We've gone over the plan every day; we've looked at alternatives in case the first option doesn't work out and you have an expert in infiltrating other people's homes in charge of the plan... What can go wrong? Trust me, before you can tell, we're in your backyard drinking beers with Anne and the girls, celebrating together as a family, while Ivar the Boneless is rotting in jail” - You said with certainty

- “Ever since you were a little girl I've always admired that about you: Determined, brave and a fighter, which has always made you achieve everything you set out to do - he answered with a broken voice” - I just wanted to wish you the best of luck in the world now that no one is around. See you in a bit, Agent 007.

As he spoke you noticed some concern in his voice, was Heahmund afraid of the mission?... Impossible, he was known for his courage and dedication but in this situation,  you could not avoid that this insecurity that you did not feel for a long time will hit you again.

Since the death of your father you had changed, you had become steel, as you said, you had no heart for anyone, you had focused so much on getting ahead and getting what you had in mind that you had forgotten one very important thing, being a teenager. And now that time was gone.

Still, you burst out laughing when he called you Agent 007

- “Thank you, Jack Bauer” - you said, playing along, referring to those movies and action shows you loved to watch together when you were younger.

You hung up and then felt a sense of emptiness and… fear? No, you weren't going to let that happen. You certainly knew that you had to occupy your mind at that moment, or you would go crazy. So, you connected your phone to the speaker and put on your favourite playlist and time passed with you getting ready until it was time to leave. You took the bike keys, a beautiful Harley-Davidson and got going.

When you arrived at the police station your colleagues and Heahmund were already there, you went over the plan and waited for the exact time to start.

It was 11:15, the game had begun. You were about to head for the first stop on your mission. The aim in this phase was to park in the surroundings of the main highway, where Ivar and his people had to go through, so you could check that everything was in order, and that the usual Thursday trip would take place. You arrived before time, it was night and the highway was slightly illuminated by distant lanterns. The place had been carefully chosen as there were certain points where you could wait in stealth.

As time passed, you became more and more nervous and couldn't help it. There was something in your head that wouldn't let you concentrate. Heahmund noticed it and said:

-  “What's going on in that little head, (Y/N)?” - He said in a sweet tone.

-  “Hmm...nothing, I'm fine” - you whispered as you looked for his glance and smiled.

-  “Come on, (Y/N), I know you too well to know that something is bothering you”

- “Ugh, I hate you Heahmund… what if they don't come, if for whatever reason today doesn't happen” - you said losing your nerve a little

-  “Hey, hey, hey and this? Where's my little fighter? They're going to do it, you'll see, and before dawn they'll all be behind bars”

- “How can you be so sure?”

- “I just know” - he said with confidence and came up to you kissing you on the head

You needed it, you needed someone telling you that everything would be fine, with your 24 years you were tired of playing grown-up, strong and lonely. You had always needed that love, but that side of you was known only by Heahmund and he had always been there to give it to you.

You did not have much more time to get melancholy, it was happening, Ivar and his people could be seen from afar. They were organized in three black armoured cars and four motorcycles guarding the sides. You saw how they passed before you, in a heartbeat everything you had feared had happened, the only part of the plan that did not fall on you had worked. Now everything depended on you. You waited a few minutes and both of you, along with several patrol cars, set off. Some of your colleagues stayed in the place so that they could control when they returned and thus warn those of you who were going to the shelter.

Second stop on the mission, the shelter. Ivar and his people owned an apartment building where they used to stay permanently, it was on the outskirts of town, in the middle of nowhere. You had left your vehicles a few meters behind, also hidden, so as not to cause any noise. You found yourselves walking quietly in the dark with your guns in hand, towards an old building. When you reached the right distance, you appreciated the immensity of the building with enough housing to accommodate several families. The facade was neglected, yellowish-coloured, and you could see the doors of each house, white and many of them peeling and battered. Plus, right next door was what looked like a big warehouse. Everything was surrounded by metal fences.

Your companions began to take their positions as you had planned and you and Heahmund continued to approach, until you reached the side of the fence so that you could climb without attracting attention.

You looked at Heahmund and nodded just as you turned to move forward alone you noticed how he grabbed your arm, your heart racing as he said:

- “I'll keep an eye on everything that happens, the moment I hear something out of the ordinary, even if you don't say the code word, we'll get in and get you out”

- “Damn, Heahmund, you scared me... yes, I know, don't worry” - you said losing your patience a little

And now it was time, holding your SIG Sauer firmly in your hands and checking for the last time that the microphone you were holding in the middle of your bra was properly placed, you were ready to move forward. You approached the front door of the warehouse. If there was anything interesting to look for, it would be there. You pulled the lock pick out of your pocket and picked the lock easily. You opened the door a couple of inches, at that moment your heart felt like it was going to come out of its socket. You checked that the light inside was off, you continued to open it completely and you went inside quietly. It was all dark, you stood still for a few seconds to pay attention to all the sound around you. You could only hear the “tick tock” of a clock. You looked at the wall for a light switch, found it and turned it on. Several fluorescent lights illuminated the big warehouse, some of them failing and blinking making the place even more scary. For a few seconds the light blinded you because of the contrast of the dark night to which your eyes had been used so far. You took a quick look, ducked your head and whispered into the microphone:

- “Clear”

You raised your head and for the first time you stopped to look around. It was immense, the walls were covered with high shelves where there were pots of all kinds, some were full and some were empty, there were boxes, masks, safety goggles, gloves and all kinds of chemical devices. There was a long table on the side with many chairs, some lying on the floor, others on top of the table... that place reminded you of a typical high school lab from which the most you could do was decant a mixture. You were surprised... they were cooking drugs there... "Well, what a dump" you said to yourself; you thought everything would be much more careful and not such a messy place as that.

And in the middle of all that mess, at the end of the room you found a big wooden desk and a big black leather armchair behind it, it seemed that that little space didn't belong in the room, it was all tidy and on the table the only thing that was there was some papers, small pictures and office material. You approached and saw some maps with certain points marked... What were these points? You thought that it could be some meeting place or points of sale, you took out the PDA and uploaded the photo to the police station network.

- “I think I found something, I just uploaded it to the network” -You said in a whisper

You didn't have any answers, nor did you notice much of it, since you got caught up in a huge painting right behind the desk. In it appeared a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair. It was just a painting, but you could feel the elegance of that woman in it. Next to her was a taller man who looked slightly older, shaven and with a long beard with white locks. He was in a suit and showed a great presence just like the woman. But there was something that caught your attention, the look of him, his intense blue eyes seemed to pierce you as if you were seeing them in person. The wrinkles at the corner of his eyes betrayed his maturity. You stared for a while, curious, until you came back to reality, took a quick look again to see if anything could be useful, but nothing. So, you retraced your steps and headed for the door. You tried to communicate with your colleagues again:

- “Guys, nothing else around here, I'm going back to my starting position” - You whispered again.

And at that moment you froze, you were listening to yourself double and your "double" was coming right out the door. Time stopped for you, you didn't understand anything, and the only thing you could think of was to hide behind the door. This one opened little by little and you started to listen how people came in... one, two, three... you were counting the steps to be able to calculate the number of people, you lost the count to the fifth since such a quantity would be impossible to face and come out victorious.

- “SHHHH, shut up... do you hear it?” - said a male voice you didn't recognize.

What you could hear was your breathing shaking through a walkie... at that moment the world fell apart. A police walkie in the hands of those assholes, something hadn't gone right, and you didn't know what.

- “Yeah, it smells weird too, doesn't it?” - said another male voice, but this one sounded much more ironic.

- “I don't know Ivar I don't smell anything... what do you smell?” - Said a third voice, the closest so far to your position.

- “Mmm I don't know it's a disgusting smell, something like... police”

At that very moment they closed the door, leaving you exposed. You saw five men, but you didn't have time for much else as the one closest to you, that you came to recognize was Ubbe, grabbed your arm and made a quick movement blocking it, causing your gun to fall to the ground. He drew you to his body by placing your back to him and holding your neck with his arm, doing a lock around it to immobilize you. You looked ahead, saw a young man slowly approaching you and examining you from bottom to top until your eyes connected, deep blue and intimidating gaze. To tell the truth, he was a very attractive guy, but that idea was automatically erased when you remembered who he was. Something stirred in your stomach, you didn't know if it was fear, hate or a mixture. Slowly a cynical smile appeared in his mouth. Definitely, it was disgust what you had noticed in your stomach seconds ago. You could have tried to get out of that grip, but you didn't see the point, they were five men over six feet. It was impossible, to get out of there. Ubbe kept pressing his arm against your neck, causing your senses to slowly fade away.

- “Well, well, and I thought this wasn't going to be fun" said the boy in front of you in a hesitant voice. - Nice to meet you, I am Ivar Lothbrook - he said extending his hand

That was the last thing you could see and hear before you lost total control over your body and thus your senses.

The game had started... like a shitty one.  

[imaginesmai]

Ubbe-25th of December (1)

MoodBoard done by the amazing @worldisadirtyplace, I love it so much, thank you!!

An anon requested a military!Ubbe. This is something new. Maybe it’s not my best work, but let me know what you think! Anyway, I enjoyed it a lot!

Plot: When Ubbe’s gone, the only thing you have left is hope.

For the second time that day, you put on the dishwasher. The electric bill would probably be a nightmare that month, but you weren’t thinking about that. Glasses, spoons, bowls and dishes were scattered around the counters, and more of them were in the dishwasher waiting to be cleaned. On the other side of the kitchen, food for almost a whole army was finished; the only clean part of the kitchen. The rest was a mess, just like your life.

Your hands, already raw from scrubbing so much, kept trying to clean the huge vase you had used to measure the food. Little droplets of blood were mixing with the soap and the water, making it seem like you had been cooking chocolate. In the back of your mind, a kind voice you knew too well was telling you to stop, to catch a break and to do what you had to do. But listening to that voice would mean admitting that there was a yellow letter waiting for you in the living room, with the official army’s stamp, that was still unread.

It had arrived the previous day, delivered by the mailman you greeted every morning. Who knew you since you were a kid, and who was a good friend of Ubbe. Maybe building your reasoning on his pained face was not logical, yet you couldn’t ignore it. You couldn’t ignore his pitiful stare as he gave you the letter, that seemed to chase you even in the kitchen. So you decided to ignore it and to stick to your original plan.

Ubbe was coming home that night and the whole family was going to celebrate it together. His brothers were already in your apartment, and his parents would be coming in a few hours. And you had to finish the damn dinner by then.

“Y/N!” Ivar’s scream made you turn your head, just in time to see Hvitserk taking a piece of the cottage pie you had made.

“Hvitserk, no!” he didn’t listen to you, and put quickly the food on his mouth. “It’s still-“

You were interrupted by his scream as he spat the food on the floor, moving his hands desperately and sticking his tongue out. Ivar and Sigurd laughed from the living room while Hvitserk stumbled into the kitchen and pushed you aside so he could reach the sink. He put his mouth under the stream for a few seconds, until he could feel his tongue again.

“Why is it so hard for you to listen?” you half smiled, crossing your arms. “You know I would have given you a piece later.”

“But it looked so good!” Hvitserk’s pouted like a little kid. Since you had known him, he had been your favourite brother. Ubbe had introduced you two early in your relationship, and while he was away Hvitserk had stayed with you. “You can’t cook something so delicious and expect me to wait! This-This is your fault!”

“That’s a shame” you shrugged, going back to your previous task. “I’ve heard of people who had lost the taste because of a burn.”

“Very funny, Y/N” he rolled his eyes, still very aware of his tongue’s pain.

“Hey, it’s true” Ivar said, and soon you heard the crutches against the wooden floor. “Uncle Rollo can’t know the difference between sweet and bitter.”

The three brothers started arguing and you decided to stay out of it, knowing that it was most likely to end up in a fight. Your smile disappeared when you thought how Ubbe would have tried to break them away only to end up in the middle of the fight. You took a shaky breath, remembering again the yellow letter in the living room. The brothers knew about it, and they respected your decision of not opening it. After all, it had been delivered to your house; and after more than one year waiting for him, you had the right of taking your time.

You felt a pair of arms taking your hands out of the water and turning you around. Hvitserk was looking down at them with a little frown, the screams and punches of Ivar and Sigurd in the background. He caressed your fingers and palms softly, and then tried to meet your eyes.

“How low have you been in the kitchen?”

“I don’t know” you shrugged, and it was true. Since Hvitserk ‘moved’ to your house, there had not been a day where he had gotten up before midday, and you had started in the kitchen when the sun wasn’t even up.

“I think that’s enough food” he said, looking back to the counter where all of it was. “We will be eating leftovers for a month”

“He’ll be probably hungry” you blinked two times, and waited three seconds to talk again. Avoiding thousands of tears to roll down your cheeks. “Who knows what is he eating there, in his last letter he told me that they only give him soup.”

Your attempted laugh came out as a sad chuckle, and that time Hvitserk didn’t try to smile or hide his pain. All of you were worried about him.

It had been five months and a half since his last letter, where Ubbe told you that things were getting messy and that he was being sent to another military unit. He was supposed to be home the 25th of December, the date where all the soldiers would be back to celebrate Christmas and New Year with their families.

You were tapping your foot against the floor, the cries of the baby beside you driving you mad. When you had first saw him, five hours ago, you thought he was the cutest thing alive. He had looked up at you, smiled and laughed until his mother had let you grab him. You had played with him and bounced him up and down for a while, enjoying his little face and hands. But you were tired of him already.

He had begun crying when his mother had taken something he was licking away from him, and he hadn’t stopped since then. People around you were glaring at them, and the poor woman had already taken the child for walks. Still, he kept crying and fussing. You had offered to hold him while she took a break and went to the bathroom, and the kid had taken delight in pulling at your hair as hard as he could. The scarf around your neck that shielded you from the cold of the airport fell to the ground, and you had to wait until his mother was with you again to pick it up. Who spends so much time in the bathroom? She did.

It was all worthy. For you and for the three boys sleeping beside you, it was all worthy. It didn’t matter the cold of that 25th of December, because you knew that two hours later you would be in your house with your personal heater beside you. It didn’t matter the uncomfortable chair you were sitting in or the annoying people around you. It all didn’t matter because Ubbe was coming back home.

Driving with his brothers had been a nightmare, since they didn’t exactly get along well, but you endured it anyway. When you saw the flow of green and brown uniforms coming out of the boarding gate, you forgot about everything bad that had happened to you for the last year. He was there.

You woke up Hvitserk, Ivar and Sigurd, and walked closer to the group of soldiers. Men and women kept walking out, some of them not even looking at you, just running to meet their families. The smile of your face was so big your cheeks hurt, but you didn’t care; you were shaking with excitement.

But he didn’t come.

Soldiers left the airport and soon there wasn’t anyone else in there, just the three of you. You kept looking towards the door with a smile, waiting for him to come home. To run to you. To be alive.

“Y/N?” you turned around and saw Alfred, one of Ubbe’s mates. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for Ubbe” you answered, the obvious reason behind his absence screaming at you. You chose to ignore it, and kept smiling. “When is the other plane arriving?”

“What other plane?”

Alfred’s confused face almost made your smile disappear, but you kept smiling. He was coming out of that door. Your Ubbe was coming out of that door the 25th of December, just like he had told you on his last letter. And you were going to spend Christmas together.

“Ubbe’s plane. When is it landing? Today?”

“Y/N, why don’t we sit down?” Hvitserk put a hand on your shoulder.

You turned around and saw Hvitserk’s teary eyes. Suddenly, you were aware that his brothers were not behind you; Ivar was sitting on the floor with his head down, and Sigurd was looking through the big window. You couldn’t see neither of their faces, but you could hear the quiet sniffles of Sigurd. You looked back to Hvitserk, who had one single tear running down his cheek. You also heard Alfred talking behind you, and Hvitserk answering him. The kind brother, probably your best friend in that moment, pulled you towards his chest, and held you there as he talked with Alfred.

The horrendous sweater he was wearing quickly got stained with tears; in the red and green fabric appearing round perfect drops of water. You tried to understand what was happening, why he was crying, why Sigurd was hugging Ivar when they didn’t get along. Why Ubbe wasn’t the one hugging you, because he was coming home on the 25th of December. Right?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dinner was silent, not even the TV with the local news or the fights between the brothers making it any better. As you tried to swallow your food avoiding the lump in your throat, the memories reached you.

Your mind went back to that night, blocking your surroundings and instead listening to Alfred’s calm voice. He had told you that Ubbe was missing. Probably your most hated word since that moment. Not killed or captured, just missing. You spent a week trying to assimilate that word.

Missing meant that Ubbe could be dead or alive, in an enemy’s camp or lost somewhere in between. He could be hurt or recovering, you didn’t know; neither did Alfred. He was kind enough to give you his phone number, and in the first month you called him almost every day. Thankfully, he was the only person who didn’t think Ubbe was dead, and for you it meant everything. It was hope.

And that hope bought you to that dinner, the 25th of April. Since that horrendous day at the airport, you had made a routine, the only thing preventing you from breaking apart. Every 25 of each month, the whole family would have dinner in your apartment, and you would cook more food than necessary. Aslaug was the first one to support your decision, and forced the whole family into the tradition. Hvitserk was more than happy, because there was food around and he was already living in your house. The rest of the family didn’t want to do it as first, they thought it was a stupid thing.

But for you, it wasn’t. It wasn’t stupid because Ubbe was not dead, just missing. Because he promised you that he would be back the 25th, and you knew he was a man loyal to his word.

Because, deep inside, you knew he was coming back home.

A soft hand on your shoulder made you look up to Bjorn, Ubbe’s older brother who had also been in the army. You didn’t know him very well, enough to understand that war made him a quiet man, even around his family.

“Y/N, we’re finished” he half-smiled at you.

Suddenly you realised that the only thing unfinished was your dish. All of your ‘guests’ were gone, the table neat and Hvitserk sleeping on the couch. Lights were out too, the small lamp you had always on making you able to see Bjorn’s tired face. It must had been two or three in the morning, you couldn’t blame him.

“Sorry” you mumbled, chuckling a little. “God, I’m sorry. I did it again.”

“Don’t worry, you know we don’t mind” Bjorn took a step back so that you could get out of your chair. “Aslaug and dad are already gone, he has to wake up early. They took Ivar with him, and Sigurd is sleeping in your couch. Want me to take him home?”

“No, no. He can stay, his brother is always here anyway” you smiled, and tried to get up.

As soon as you put one foot on the ground, the world around you became blurry and you nearly lost your balance. You gripped the table for dear life and Bjorn hoisted you up, preventing you from hitting the floor. He sat you back on the chair slowly, and you sighed at his worried eyes.

It had been going on for a while, even if you didn’t want to admit it. You had this state where you would become unaware of your environment. It could be a few seconds, some minutes. An hour. Then, your body would grow weak and you couldn’t get up for a while.

Hvitserk had been with you every time luckily, and all his family knew about your ‘condition’.  They told you that you should see a professional, but they didn’t force you. The real reason behind your fainting was Ubbe’s absence. You weren’t sleeping well, eating correctly or having a normal life. Just waiting for another 25.

“Thanks” you smiled at him, as he kneeled beside you. “I think I’m gonna go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Do you want me to finish this?” he asked, talking about the kitchen and the table.

“I’ll finish it tomorrow” you said. It was another excuse to avoid thinking about the yellow letter, to busy yourself with something else; to deny the truth.

“Okay”

There were a few minutes of silence, where none of you looked at each other. It was a strange situation. You had never been so close or talked with Bjorn, but you had heard about him from Ubbe. He talked about his brother as if he was the greatest man alive, and you were sure he went to the army because of him.

If he had been there, he would have ambushed his brother his questions about anything, like a child searching for his father’s attention. If he had been there, he would have taken you to bed and gossiped about his family with you. If he had been there, but he wasn’t. Along with his brother and you, the letter was the only important thing in that living room.

“I miss him too” he broke the silence, and you looked down at him surprised. “I may not seem the most affectionate brother, but I love him. And it’s hard to be without him. For everyone.”

“Yeah” you mumbled.

“You-Maybe you should talk about it. About him”

“Bjorn” you sighed. “I already told you, I’m not going to the physiologist. I’m fine.”

“Not a professional, just me, for example. You’re building a lot of things inside you, and you need to let them go.”

“Ubbe’s not gone” you raised your voice, but lowered it when you remembered the two brothers. “I don’t need to talk about him, I need to talk with him. And when he-“

“Then tell me what you like about him. Anything, Y/N” he pleaded.

You fell quiet again, not knowing what to say. A car passed by your apartment and the soft lights let you see Bjorn’s wet cheek. Some tears were running down his cheeks, and you understood what he meant them. Ubbe was probably his favourite brother, and not having him was hard, not only for you.

You opened you mouth a few times, trying to let something out. Instead you gripped his big hand and breathed slowly.

“I don’t think I can’t go on without him” you mumbled. “I-I, we’ve been together always. We had everything planned. I can’t-This is the only thing I have left. The dinners, his family. This house. If he’s not here, it’s not enough.”

Bjorn sighed and looked to the ground.

You had met Ubbe when you were children, in school. The first day, with just six years, Ubbe found himself alone with some mean guys. They pushed him around and mocked him, and Bjorn didn’t come. He ran and hid under a tree, sobbing wildly; and that’s how you found him. You offered him half of your sandwich, that had peanut butter and caused an allergic reaction on him. And since that moment, no one knew how but you became best friends. Best friends who had their first kiss together, shared their first time and planned a life together.

Tears welled up in your eyes, so you turned away and walked to your room.

“I’m going to bed, Bjorn” you smiled again. “You’re welcome to stay here, Hvitserk room is free.”

“Torvi must be worried” he said, not moving from his spot. “Do-“

“Goodnight, Bjorn” you cut him off.

And just like that, you went to bed and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first rays of sun hit your living room, hitting the glass surfaces and creating a comfortable scene. You had woken up later than usual, and decided to stay in bed until eight. Usually, you would be up since six or even earlier. But you needed strength for what you wanted to do.

In your hands, the letter seemed smaller than when it arrived. The envelop was pale yellow, with your address written in a messy calligraphy and the official army stamp. It was slightly wrinkled at the corners, and stained with a mysterious substance. You preferred to think that it wasn’t blood, but there was no human way to tell.

Your first attempt of opening the letter went bad, and it fell to the floor. You took it back with shaky fingers, and that time you did it right. The letter came open and you discovered that the envelop itself was the letter.

Hi doll, it’s been a while.

An ugly and happy sob left your lips when you read the first part of the letter. You highly doubted the high commands of the army would write to you like that. It was your Ubbe, who had put you that nickname since you were in highschool. He was alive.

I wanted to write sooner, I promise. I also wanted to be home for Christmas, to put up the tree with you and to drown you in gifts. But here it’s hardly made what I want anymore.

By then, some parts of the paper were soaked with your tears, and you had your hand over your mouth to avoid waking up any of the brothers. You would tell them, you were dying to prove them wrong. To prove everyone who doubted about your Ubbe wrong. But you wanted to enjoy each letter written in that awful calligraphy of your man.

Things have changed. Well, there are some that not, the food for example. Beside your beautiful face, what I miss the most is your cooking. I mean, I don’t think what we eat here is even considered food! Grey, sticky and thick dough? Damn, doll, I won’t ever complain about the vegetables again.

That’s not the worst part, though. And you know I don’t like, and I shouldn’t, talk about it with you, but after breaking my first promise of coming home I think I can skip a few rules. Just don’t tell Bjorn.

A month before my arriving date, I was transferred to another unit, farther from the main city, so the communication were shit. I wrote a letter, and I thought I would finish it once we arrived there. The safe point was attacked and we moved on, not staying too much time in one. We were in the middle of a recognition operation when shit went down, and I’ve been unable to contact you since then.

Luckily, my new mate (Daven, too talkative and his feet stink) and I have found an old army post. I hope I haven’t scared you with the yellow envelop, but this is the only thing I got! He got me a pen and we walked to the nearest village so that I could send the letter. It will probably arrive a few months later, here it is 8th of March.

Time is something we can’t waste, so I’ll sum up how much I love and miss you, and the things I’m going to do to you when I come back. You can read any of my other letters and imagine what I want to do with you. Our next plan is to find a way to come back. I’ll write whenever I can, and this is a promise I don’t intend to break.

But if I can’t, don’t get sad, doll. I’ll be trying to get back to you, whatever it takes. I will appear in our front door and hug you for hours. The only thing I need you to promise me is that you won’t lose hope, Y/N. Because I can and I will be back home.

Yours always, Ubbe.

When the final dot of the letter appeared in your vision, you were a crying mess. Not even your hands could prevent the sobs and happy laughs to leave your lips, and soon Hvitserk and Sigurd were running down the stairs.

They asked you what was wrong, looked around for anything that had made you cry. But just saw a small paper stained with tears. You shoved it in Hvitserk’s chest, and pointed with your head towards him.

As the brothers read the letter, you hugged close one of the cushions of the couch and cried harder. He was alive, your Ubbe was alive. All those dinner were worthy, and your hope wasn’t in vain. He was coming back to you.

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[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Hjem(løs)  - Ivar x OC - Modern AU - Part 2

*Hjem(løs) = Home(less)

Synopsis: It's Juleaften and Silje walks home from a late Christmas shopping spree. On her way back to her apartment, she makes an unexpected encounter.

Word count: 8.3k

Part 1 <<< >>> Part 3

MASTERLIST

However, that didn't prevent him from keeping an eye open. Like an invisible guardian making sure nothing bad happened to her, Ivar stayed in the same area as Silje for a while. It was borderline creepy, Ivar was well aware of it, but he felt like he owed her big time, and if the only way he could repay her was to lurk in dark alleys and make sure no creep was following her home, then he would do it. There were worse places in Copenhagen to hang out; Silje's neighbourhood was lively and overall safe - which made him wonder why he felt entitled to become her guardian angel at all, and from what exactly he was trying to protect her, but that was a place he didn't want to let his mind wander.

He had no idea how much longer he could persuade himself that he was only staying here for her sake. Truth is that he could not bring himself to walk away and wave goodbye to the possibility of ever running into Silje again. It had been quite a while since Jul, be he could not move on from their meeting. The need to see her again was strong, though not as strong as Ivar's reason telling him to stay at a distance. He had no right to bust in her door after a month without any explanation. He had no right at all to even talk to her again. He was giving himself headaches from thinking about this too much.

Therefore he remained in his dark alleys and on his isolated benches. Anger bubbled up inside of him whenever he saw her walk by, carelessly strutting home to the tune of some song blasting in her earphones. She didn't notice him – why would she? People don't look at homeless people, and homeless people don't like being looked at. She represented quite the temptation though. On the one hand he was pulled towards her like a magnet, on the other, he knew it would be wrong of him to give in.

It was snowing today. Ivar's fingers were blue and he hadn't felt the tip of his nose in four days. Strangely enough, he still felt good – maybe not fine, but good. There was peace in the air. People were still high off the bliss brought by the winter holidays, and the new year. Not to mention that he remembered how much Silje loved snow. Fuck, he was being ridiculous. She would make fun of him if he said his thoughts out loud. He had to fucking move on and stop nearly interfering with her life again.

So far he hadn't done anything, he hadn't uttered a word as she walked down the street across from his new sleeping bench. He looked up, smiled a little when he saw her mouth the lyrics to a song he couldn't hear, and hid his face in his scarf. As much as it caused his heart sink in his stomach each time he saw her strut by, simultaneously so close and so far out of reach, it still made him feel better to know that she was doing all right. It helped him sleep at night at least.

“Hey! Watch it man!” Someone yelled at him when he accidentally bumped into their shoulder. He had zoned out again. “Fucking hobo!” The other man grumbled in his beard, shooting a nasty glare at Ivar.

Today was not the day to mess with Ivar. As quick tempered as he usually was, tonight was worse and if this guy took so much as a second to think before speaking, he would have kept his mouth shut.

“What? Is the side walk not large enough for you?” Ivar barked back. He was so tired of being treated like a dog with rabies. “Bloody idiot.”

“What did you just say?!” The guy turned around to face Ivar. He was taller and broader than him, but there was no backing out now. It was like a switch that flipped inside Ivar.

“Is your masculinity so feeble that you cross homeless people merely to show off your steroid induced muscles?” Ivar heard his voice snap at the increasingly furious stranger. He couldn't help the cocky smirk on his face just like he couldn't help the scoff that followed his declaration.

It was too late to try and get out of this situation. Ivar had let his frustration and anger take control of his actions and he was about to face the consequences. The man was red in the face and looked about to blow up. Meanwhile Ivar tensed his entire body, ready to receive a blow. After all maybe that is what he wanted, or needed. Nothing like a sucker punch right in the jaw to put one's ideas back in place. If this guy hit hard enough maybe he would knock Silje right out of Ivar's mind.

He had no idea how much he craved a good fight until this very moment. Ivar's hand itched to throw a blow himself. He clenched it into a fist before stretching his fingers again. His knuckles hurt from the cold despite his gloves. He saw it coming and raised his arms in defence when the man's fist was mid-air but it hardly did anything so soften the blow. Clearly, Ivar had underestimated his adversary.

It all went black rather quickly after that.

*

“Skål!” Her friends all cheered, the sound of beer bottles clanking together filling the air.

It was accompanied by heartfelt laughter and the distinctive smell of alcohol. Silje was not a huge fan of beer and only drank one so her friends would stop pestering her about it; now they are already too intoxicated to notice that she was drinking tea. Her palm was held up toward the sky in an attempt to catch a few snowflakes but they melted the second they touched her skin.

The results of the first semester just came out and her friends dragged her to this picnic table in the middle of a park to celebrate. Although it was freezing, the alcohol running in their systems kept them warm enough to keep the party going, attracting the attention of passers-by with their music and loud chatter. Her tea wasn't doing that good of a job at keeping her limbs from getting numb, and neither did her skirt and tights.

“I'm going to head home” she declared only to earn a round of protest and teasing about how early she left. “I'm tired,” Silje objected when one of her classmate slung his arm around her shoulders to try and make her stay. “And cold. You can continue this party without me and I can celebrate in my apartment, wrapped in a warm blanket.”

“You are such a grandma!” Her friend snickered playfully as he shoved her in the arm. “Go, I'll distract them while you flee.”

Before he or anyone else could change their mind and decide to chain on her the bench with a beer in her hand, Silje stood up, gathered her belongings and stuffed them in her backpack as she walked away. While the music of their improvised party faded, Silje turned up the volume of her own and closed her eyes. It was a gentle night, the snow fell steadily and slowly from the sky, the kind of night you spent sitting in front of your window and looking outside.

However Silje had no intention of going home right away to find comfort in the many blankets she owned. As most days, she settled on a part of the city and wandered through the streets in search of - in desperate hope of finding – Ivar. She had regretted her decision of letting him leave the second she saw his dark figure walk away from her building. It was stupid really, but she wanted some kind of assurance to see him again, a means to contact him.

She expected him to wave, or smile, or do something but he merely disappeared in the shadows and from her life. Today was the 27th of January, over a month since the last time she saw him, and already she was beginning to forget what he looked like. The brevity of their encounter, although intense, had left a bitter-sweet taste in her mouth. She felt guilty – for not doing more for him, for not understanding his situation, for not sharing his problems. It was pointless to dwell on these things but here she was, roaming aimlessly through streets she didn't know, at night.

Somehow she knew this would enrage him if he knew – he made it very clear during their conversations that he thought it was reckless and careless for her to walk around at night in dark passageways. This forced a smile on her face and she let out a silent laugh, her hot breath visible in the air. Silje took out her earphones for a second. She thought it might help her find him if Ivar was around but the music and conversations coming out of the bars in this area drowned out any other noise.

She had been walking for half an hour when she decide that it was enough. It was late and cold. She'd look again tomorrow. It was time to head back and hide in these blankets she told her friends about. Someone wolf-whistled and Silje's head whipped to the right to see where it came from. There was a group of four or five boys staring at her. She scrunched up her nose in distaste and ignored them. They protested and called for her but she put her earphones back on.

“Jerks,” she grumbled to herself when even with her music she could hear their shouts.

“Hey!” Someone suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder and jerked her back. “I'm talking to you, bitch!”

As any girl would in her situation, Silje tensed up and her blood ran cold in her veins. Already cold sweat was forming in the nap of her neck – the instinctive response to a man raising his voice at her and being aggressive. She counted to ten in her head to gather herself and calm down. She got this, there was no reason for her to panic, she could handle the situation. There was no room for fear right now, she had to show this jackass that she wasn't some little mouse he could intimidate into talking to him.

After a short moment, Silje felt confident enough to look up and meet his eyes. The way he looked at her made her want to vomit in her mouth. Disgusting. Revolting. Clearly this guy was not familiar with the concept of a woman not being interested.

“And I'm ignoring you, asshole. Are we done stating the obvious?”

It was pretty ballsy and she might regret it but the words were out now, she couldn't take them back. One of the dude's friends whistled as she said that, apparently admiring the nerve she had to talk to him like that.

“What? You think you're too good for me?” The guy snarled, eyeing Silje up and down in a distasteful manner. “You're not even that hot, you should be flattered.”

“Oh be still my beating heart,” she said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. “There, happy? Let me go now before I scream bloody murder and get the cops on your ass for assault.”

She would do it. She was ready to. At this point sarcasm was merely a defence mechanism. It took all of her concentration not to tremble like a leaf.

“Jeez! Girls nowadays can't take a compliment anymore!” He exclaimed but still let her go.

“You just told me I wasn't even hot, in what world is that a compliment? You need to work on your approach techniques dude.”

He grumbled a few more insults under his breath but he was already stepping back. He was obviously not happy about this defeat but his friends were laughing and telling him she wasn't worth the trouble so he let it slide. When she was sure they left, Silje carefully placed her earphones back on, hands shaking and eyes prickling, and she turned around to resume her walking. Just when she thought she might have to make a detour in case they decided to follow her home, she stumbled on something and almost fell.

She caught herself in extremis by reaching out for the corner of a wall, scratching her hands in the process. A string of curses tumbled down her lips while she rubbed her palm on her coat to get rid of the dirt, then she looked down to see what made her trip. When her eyes fell on the metallic cylinder on the floor, she thought they might pop out of her head.

That she would recognize anywhere. It was her Thermos. The one with the mismatched lid she had given to Ivar a month ago.

“Ivar,” she whispered, hoping against hope. “Ivar!”

On her feet she was before she had the time to think about it, nearly falling once again. Her hand found the Thermos and clung to it for dear life as she stumbled into the alley on her right.

“Ivar you bastard, if you're here say something!” She shouted this time, making sure that the entire neighbourhood heard her. “I swear I'm going to drag your hobo ass out of the hole you're hiding in!”

Her threats mustn't have been very convincing since no one answered, or maybe he simply wasn't here anymore. After a few more seconds of listening intently, one sound stood out of the distant music from the nearby bars. Faint, almost inaudible laughter.

“That the best you got, woman?” The strained but already so familiar voice of Ivar asked from the shadows.

Silje dived down towards the source of the voice and her hands found him before her eyes did. Her fingers grasped at the material of his clothes and Silje did as she promised and dragged him out of the darkness and into the light of the nearest street lamp. She only let go when he groaned.

“Shit, where did you get that strength from?” He asked, a bit out of breath.

Now that she could see his face Silje understood why he sounded in pain. The entire left side of his face was bruised and swelled. He had a black eye and a split lip; the blood had dried on his wounds.

“Don't say anything,” she ordered him, already taking his chin in between her fingers to better examine his beaten face. “You look like a bloody mess.” Her voice was stern but gentle.

“You look beautiful.”

“And you're delirious!” Silje exclaimed, her hand flying up to feel his forehead. “You have a bit of fever. How long have you been here in this state?”

“Few- hours-” he said, short breathed already. “Silje.”

He simply said her name with no intention of saying anything else, but it got her attention at last and she looked into his blue eyes, pleading her. Her hand let go of his chin and she moved it to his shoulder.

“I wanna hug you and punch you so bad right now,” Silje said between her teeth. “Come back with me. I'll fix you up, we're not too far from my apartment.”

“I can't- my legs... fuck. They messed up my legs,” he whined pitifully and winced in pain, his eyes drifting from hers to his legs. “I can't walk.”

“Even if you lean on me?” She asked hopefully. He shrugged but was already trying to stand up, willing to try anything to get out of the gutter he had put himself into. “We only have a couple streets to walk before reaching my place. You can do this.”

The strain was visible on his face etched with agony. Silje's arms were there to support him and help him up, no matter how much bigger he was, she was not about to complain or leave him to his fate. She had looked for him, she had found him, and now she was going to be true to her word and drag his ass back to her apartment, even up the five floors if she had to.

It was a lot harder said than done, but not impossible. She had no means to establish exactly how much pain Ivar was in because he hadn't said a word during their slow progression through the streets. His mind was entirely focused on not screaming or collapsing on the floor. The vein on his temple throbbed menacingly, if that was any indicator of the ache he currently endured. Nothing would have prepared either of them for the trial it represented to climb up so many stairs with only Silje's tiring legs to get to the top.

“Just leave me here, you won't make it with me,” Ivar groaned with difficulty.

“We're almost there, two more floors to go,” she said, completely ignoring his resigned tone. “Quit being a drama queen.”

“You killing me, Silje!”

“Oh is that what I'm doing? Funny because I thought I was once again saving you from the cold harsh world. A little gratitude would be welcome, you know? And I know precisely how you can repay me. I have a monstrous pile of dirty dishes waiting in the sink just for you.”

“This makes me want to stay in the staircase even more,” Ivar sighed, holding his breath each time they ascended another step.

“If you're well enough to make jokes then you're also well enough to climb up a few more steps,” Silje declared confidently. “We've made it this far, Ivar.”

“So stubborn,” he grumbled again though she thought she detected a hint of admiration in his voice, but maybe she was hearing things. “I am not joking, my legs are killing me.”

“Well what do you want me to do about it? I suspect you don't want me to bring you to the hospital, do you?”

He stiffened against her side and glared at her.

“I don't have money to pay for healthcare, you know this.”

“I do, that's why you're going to crash on my couch and I'll call my brother. He'll come and examine you properly. I don't know how to assert the extent of your injuries but he can,” she assured him but it did little to nothing to calm him down, in fact it had the opposite effect.

“Which brother?” He asked warily.

“Ubbe,” Silje managed a laugh even though she was exhausted. “The one you've met.”

“I remember Ubbe,” Ivar huffed.

Suddenly they realised they had made it. Silje's front door was standing right there. No more stairs. Black dots danced before her eyes and sweat trickled down her spine but they had made it.

“I remember the way he almost crushed my hand while shaking it,” Ivar added, a little out of breath but nothing compared to Silje's state of breathlessness and sweatiness.

“That's just his way of saying hello,” she said and with a little wave of the hand to gesture him it was nothing worth getting grey hair over. “I am in strong need of a shower.”

She managed to help Ivar onto the couch, both of them sighing in relief when their seemingly never-ending journey finally ended. She told him that she would call her brother then hop in the shower, and that she was all his after that.

It took a little more time and energy than she expected to convince her brother to get out of bed, grab the crutches they'd given him after his injury and come over to her place, all of this to look at Ivar's legs.

“Ivar? Who's Ivar?” Ubbe had asked, only to remember the moment he said his name. “Oh, the guy from Juleaften? What happened?”

“I don't know yet, okay? Just come, it's important and quite urgent too.”

He complied after two more minutes of convincing, and Silje was finally allowed a moment of peace. She got Ivar a glass of water and a pillow, then took her well-deserved shower. When she opened the front door fifteen minutes later, her hair was still wet, her previous clothes discarded by the bathroom door, and Ivar was grunting on the couch, trying not to move his legs. Their tumultuous journey had woken up the wound, it throbbed and deformed his attractive features into an expression of anger and pain.

“Come with me,” Silje grabbed Ubbe's arm to lead him right in front of Ivar. “It's his legs. I need you to examine him.”

“What are you now, a doctor?” Ivar spat. It was the pain speaking, not him, Ubbe knew better and he simply smirked. “I thought you were a reject soldier.”

“Big mouth, eh?” Ubbe huffed and knelt down by his legs. “Didn't serve you well from what I can see. And no, I'm not a doctor, but soldiers are trained to tend to their companions if something were to happen on the field. Landmine explosion for instance. That shit can blow your legs off.”

“I didn't step on a fucking landmine,” Ivar barked back. “Those assholes beat me up.”

He didn't specify that he provoked them but the siblings shared a look that spoke volumes. They knew he wasn't just randomly attacked. Ivar didn't say anything after that and allowed Ubbe to feel his legs and assert his injuries.

“Are they broken?” Silje asked after a couple minutes, not holding it in anymore.

Ivar hadn't realised how worried she really was up until now. Her foot tapped on the floor at a fast pace, one of her arms rested across her chest while the other held her hand up in front of her mouth. Her eyes did not budge from her brother once while he took a look at Ivar's messed up legs.

“No,” Ubbe said, earning a round of relieved sighs. “Wait before popping the champagne. That was the good news. The bad news is that while I can tell that your legs aren't broken, I can't guarantee that your tibia bones aren't shattered. And worst of all your left knee is out of joint. Did you walk here?”

“Hardly,” Ivar said with a little one-shoulder shrug.

“Well, you must be a tough motherfucker, because that hurts like hell. I can put it back in place but I should warn you that this is usually done under anaesthesia,” Ubbe explained under Silje's increasingly anxious gaze.

He looked Ivar straight in the eye without budging, like a real solider. Ubbe's relaxed demeanour from Juleaften was gone, his face was plain and serious, his mind focused on the task at hand, and no room was left for jokes.

“I can take it,” Ivar assured him.

“Sil,” Ubbe called his sister, waking her from her fear induced trance. “Get him something to bite into, a wooden spoon, a folded towel.”

She did as she was asked without uttering a word and soon came back with what he asked, leaving him to choose which of the two he preferred. Ivar simply grabbed the spoon and put it in his mouth.

“All right, here goes nothing,” Ubbe said, positioning his hands around Ivar's knee. “Silje don't look.”

He didn't need to tell her, she was already putting a conscious effort into staring out of the window instead of looking at the two boys in front of her. The towel would have worked better to muffle Ivar's pained groans and cries. Silje's hand shot up to her mouth and she had to turn around. Tears prickled her eyes but she swallowed them back. There was no time for this, Ivar was the one suffering, she could act like a weak little thing later. Right now she had to get her shit together.

“It's done,” Ubbe declared and after a few more seconds of panting, Ivar took the spoon out of his mouth. It hit the floor with a loud clatter. “He'll need a knee brace. Sil can you get him one?”

She nodded, still shaking.

“Y-yes, I have a friend who had one a few weeks ago, I can ask him.”

“Good. And you-” Ubbe's attention went back to Ivar. “If you don't want to end up at the ER, you have to rest until your bones heal and your muscles recover from the beating. Where do you live? I can drive you back. Do you have someone to take care of you? Because you won't be able to make it through this alone.”

“He does. I'll take care of him,” Silje stated firmly, two puzzled gazes turning to her. “He's staying here.”

“What if he doesn't want to crash on your couch for the following month?” Ubbe replied, pointing at Ivar as though he wasn't here. “Because that's how long I would suggest he doesn't use his bad leg.”

“He'll be fine,” Silje assured her brother.

“Bu-” He started but was interrupted by Ivar.

“I'm homeless, man!” To say that it cast a cold in the room would be minimising this. “The couch is fine.” In the state he was in, anything would have worked, he was tired enough to fall asleep standing. Not that he would be doing much of that from now on.

Ubbe stood up abruptly, almost knocking over the coffee table.

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed, looking at his sister.

“Not now, Ubbe,” Silje sighed and rubbed her face. “Thank you for coming, and for the crutches. We'll talk later, okay?”

“No, not okay, you can't just make me come here in the middle of the night during work week only to have me examine a homeless dude who got into a fight, then tell me you'll have him sleep on your couch and not give me a stellar explanation!”

“It sounds terrible when you put it like that but it's not as shady as it sounds,” she promised him. “Come now.” She gestured him to follow her to the door, away from Ivar's curious ears. “Ivar is my friend. I'm not going to turn my back on him when he's injured.”

“But he is homeless,” Ubbe protested with vehemence as if he was making a valid point. He wasn't.

“That does not define him. Listen, we'll argue tomorrow, okay? I'm tired and I think Ivar has a bit of fever.”

She must have sounded particularly worn out because Ubbe closed his mouth – for now at least – and opened the door. The trained soldier he was recognized the priorities but he would not let her go away with this.

“This conversation is not over-” he told her with a warning finger pointed at her. He pushed his sister to the side and walked up to Ivar who barely managed to open his eyes when Ubbe called him. “And you-” he started sternly. “-I meant what I said. You don't jump around, you don't try to exercise, you don't run, you don't even walk anywhere apart from the bathroom and the kitchen, anything farther than that is too far for you until I say it isn't anymore.” He looked furious but also determined to help him heal. “In case I'm not being clear enough, my sister's bedroom is off limits.” He had whispered the last part for only Ivar to hear – and he did hear it loud and clear.

“Yes sir,” he mumbled in response, barely conscious at this point.

Ubbe walked back to his sister who was still waiting by the door. “Don't post-pone our conversation for too long or I'll have to tell the others.”

Contrary to Ivar though, Silje wasn't about to pass out and wasn't in the mood to get intimidated by her big brother.

“Hvisterk already knows about Ivar anyway. Sigurd wouldn't care, and if Bjorn learns that you let a homeless stranger sleep in my apartment, you'll be the one in trouble. Goodnight brother.” Silje smiled and shut the door before Ubbe could find something else to threaten her with.

Her shoulders slumped down and she leaned against the door just or a few seconds, to catch her breath and get a small break from the intense last hour she had. When she felt she was ready to go at it again, she went back to Ivar, once again put her hand on his forehead and told him to stay awake just a little bit longer – his eyelids were droopy but she didn't want him to fall asleep before changing him and giving him some medicine to reduce the fever. It required another twenty minutes to accomplish these tasks but when she was finally done and Ivar was about to fall asleep in his new dry and warm clothes, she felt rather happy with herself. In an ideal world Ivar would take a shower too but they were both too exhausted for that. Tomorrow would be there soon enough and if they were lucky, by then Ivar's fever would break and his knee wouldn't feel like it was on fire anymore.

“Are we good now?” Ivar mumbled, fighting off sleep as best he could.

“Yes, we're good,” Silje told him, gently pushing some of his hair out of his face. “You can go to sleep. Hopefully you'll feel better tomorrow.”

She had a feeling he was already asleep mid-sentence and didn't even hear the end. A little smile tugged at her lips but it vanished quickly. This reunion was a bitter-sweet one – light years away from what she had imagined. Finding her friend beaten and feverish in the shadow of a container in a small back alley was not how she had hoped to find Ivar – actually the romantic inside her was convinced that despite her searching through the streets, she would end up bumping into him in that same park where they first met.

Soon her living room was filled with the light and steady snores of Ivar and she smiled again. Exhaustion washed over her and Silje lost no time in changing into her pyjamas and turning off the lights. Whatever happened today was over and it was time to breathe again.

*

“Ivar... Ivar. Ivar!”

The voice sounded distant, like an echo. But whoever was calling him seemed to get closer and closer each time they called his name. At first he wanted to groan and turn around, tell whoever was disturbing his sleep to go away and leave him in peace – the voice became too loud. But he realised that they weren't shouts.

“Ivar,” he heard again, more aware of the proximity of its source. He felt something heavy on his forehead and winced. It was cold too. “Ivar, open your eyes.”

He did not want to but the voice was soothing and warm, so he complied. His eyelids fluttered open, and he was glad to see that it wasn't too bright in the room. His eyes finally glanced towards the form next to him and he was met with Silje's worried gaze.

“Welcome back,” she told him with a somewhat tense smile. “How do you feel?”

“What-” shit his mouth was dry. “-what time is it? How long was I out?” He asked, ignoring her question. He felt awful, like a truck ran him over - twice.

“It's almost six in the evening, you slept over sixteen hours.”

“Did you sleep?”

“Not much. Believe it or not I went to class today,” she told him with a huff, as if wondering what the hell she was thinking. She didn't want to go but she had an important presentation and her professors didn't know or care about the fact that she gave shelter to an injured homeless man. “The three longest hours of my life, I thought I'd come home to your dead body lying on my couch.”

“You're the worst- caretaker- ever,” Ivar painfully breathed out. The air didn't come easy in his lungs, like something weighted down on his chest.

“Here,” Silje said and handed him a glass of water. “Need help?”

Ivar shook his head no and propped himself up on one elbow to down the water.

“I trust you're a fighter, you wouldn't let a fever get the best of you,” she chuckled.

“You just said-” Ivar started but left his sentence unfinished, simply gesturing to her with his right hand and hoping she would understand.

“I was worried, can you blame me? I was hoping your fever would get down a little bit. I probably should have woken you up to give you your medicine but you looked like you needed the sleep,” Silje explained, already reaching down to grab something Ivar could not see from where he was lying. “It's probably for the best that I'm not trying to become a nurse, right?”

“Your brother would make a better nurse,” Ivar began to laugh but it turned into a cough. “I bet he'd look pretty in the uniform.”

“God, I can't tell if this is the fever speaking or if you're really a on death wish. Do not say that in front of Ubbe or next time you wound up beaten up he'll refuse to take a look at you.”

“Just you wait until I'm better. I bet I can take him any time,” Ivar kept bragging.

Silje's hand reached out and brushed his hair out of his face. His forehead was sticky and his hair greasy. It was a tad longer than last time she saw him and his beard had grown back. The contact of her fresh hand against his hot skin made Ivar close his eyes in delight and lean into her touch. Next thing he knew Silje was giving him pills to swallow and asked that he sit up.

“I know it's painful but you have to get up, you need to take a shower.” Dread must have been written all over his face because she quickly added, “It'll make you feel better and I'll help you.”

“You'll help me shower? Like a baby?” He grumbled in complain. “How do you plan on doing this anyway? I can't stand on my left leg and I can't take a bath either.”

“Actually you can, I had it fixed,” Silje declared with a wide smile. She put her arms on the couch and rested her chin on her joined hands. “I think it'll suffice if I help you in the tub, you can take it from there. Unless you feel like getting a hair massage?”

“I feel like dying,” Ivar said, ever so positive and joyful.

“You're a ray of sunshine Ivar,” Silje laughed. “I'm glad you're fine. This might sound weird but I missed you – you really have a talent in bickering back and forth with me.”

“Don't you have enough brothers to fill up that role?” He wondered, trying to stand up with Silje's help.

Like yesterday, she let him lean on her and together, they stumbled across the room and to the bathroom. Ivar sat on the lid of the toilet. Silje ran his bath and turned on the wall heater to hang the towels on it.

“Apparently not,” she sighed, her hand lingering under the running water to see if it was hot enough. “They are a lot of things but intellectually stimulating is not one of them. I love them all but they can be a little boorish and obtuse at times.”

“Dunno.” Ivar shrugged. “Ubbe seemed pretty sharp to me when he examined my leg. The look in his eyes-”

“-you were on the receiving end of the soldier stare,” Silje laughed. “It rarely shows but it's scary when it does, it means shit's going down. After his injury, Ubbe wasn't the same; he had this look in his eyes all the time. But he's getting used to civilian life again, with Margrethe's help.”

“His girlfriend?”

“His fiancée,” Silje corrected him. “They are getting married in August.”

After that he didn't say anything anymore. Ivar stayed quiet until it was time to strip and get into the tub.

“I won't look,” Silje promised him when his fingers tugged at his belt to unbuckle it. She had no idea how she would accomplish that because she hardly managed to keep her eyes off his naked chest, but if she had to close her eyes to give him some privacy then she would do it.

“I didn't say anything,” Ivar replied, a smirk appearing on his face as he looked at her.

Silje couldn't help the blush on her cheeks but she didn't answer to his shameless flirting. He was feverish, he didn't think what he said – that's what she repeated to herself like a mantra while he finished taking off his remaining clothes while leaning on her to keep his balance. The girl let him take the lead and get into the tub on his own while trying her best to keep his weight off the bag leg.

“There. Will you be okay?” She asked him when he was in the water. Thank the gods, bubbles hid most of his body.

“Sure,” Ivar assured her. He raised his hand out of the water and flicked it at Silje, throwing drops of soapy water at her face and making her close her eyes. “I'll call you if I need help.”

“You won't try to get out of the tub by yourself to prove a point?” She asked just to make sure, squinting her eyes at him. “No misplaced pride? You call as soon as you're done, yeah?”

“Whatever,” he sighed and rolled his eyes but she didn't move a muscle. Silje would stay where she was, kneeling next to the tub and staring sternly at him as long as she wasn't sure he wouldn't do anything stupid. “I promise, okay? Now let me bathe, woman!” He flicked some more water at her and they both smiled.

Without another word, Silje walked out of the room, closed the door, then leaned against it and slid to the floor. Damn this boy.

*

Three weeks had passed and Silje was forced to admit that Ivar was far from the model patient. And she sure as hell would never become a nurse, that was final.

He was grumpy, stubborn, unwilling to comply, restless, capricious, and a bunch of other non-flattering adjectives. Silje was just about done with him. Then again, in spite of his foul behaviour when the pain kicked in, he was still of good company the rest of the time. He never voiced it but Silje knew that he only acted the way he did because he felt useless with his injured leg. It itched him to get up and get something done – she noticed he was particularly irritable whenever he sat on the couch, his legs resting on a cushion on the coffee table, while Silje ran around tiding and cleaning the apartment.

“This is ridiculous, let me help,” he grumbled for the hundredth time. Each time Silje laughed and told him to shut up. “I'm serious Silje, I'll go mad if I have to stay here any longer.”

“I've been cleaning my apartment on my own long before you crashed on my couch, I think I can handle this,” she reminded him. “Do something else to keep you busy. Read a book, learn sign language, knit a sweater.”

“Do you think I am an old lady?” He scoffed, obviously offended. “I need to get up, my muscles are stiffening from lack of use.”

If he was still bargaining instead of simply getting up my himself it meant that the pain was still too strong for him to do so. Silje stopped vacuuming the floor and pushed her hair out of her face to look at him and give him a scolding glare.

“We've been through this conversation already,” she said. “As long as Ubbe doesn't give you the green light, your ass is glued to the couch.”

“I'm sure I can stand on my leg, he just wants me to stay a cripple a little longer because he doesn't like me staying with you,” he argued, pointing a finger at Silje. She rolled her eyes and resumed vacuuming.

“Fine, you win. If you insist so much gather my mugs and put them in the sink, and put the bath towels in the washing machine,” she told him.

Those were easy tasks he could perform with his knee brace and crutches. As though she had just provided him with a life purpose, Ivar stood up, trying to conceal his wince of pain, and did as he was told. Silje couldn't wait for his leg to heal. Faint laughter came from the bathroom a few minutes later when Silje was putting away the vacuum cleaner and she peeked inside. A furious blush crept on her face when she saw him standing by the washing machine with her freshly washed underwear in his hands.

“I can't tell which one I like best,” he said, turning his head toward her, a boyish grin on his handsome face. His black eye had faded now, the wounds from his fight disappeared almost completely – the only remaining trace being the healing split lip.

In his left hand Ivar was holding Silje's cat knickers with the two little ears on the back, and in his right hand were her more revealing and expensive bottoms. Her mouth was ajar and she couldn't find anything to say for a solid ten seconds, then she gathered her wits.

“What are you, five?” She asked, her eyebrows shooting up and her arms crossing over her chest.

The way he looked at the underwear and then at her was purely indecent and certainly not how a five year old would behave. His wolfish smile sent shivers down Silje's spine and she dropped her arms to her sides and stood a little straighter. There was no knowing if he was messing with her or not, Ivar was difficult to read. He was a huge flirt, which made it increasingly hard for Silje to keep her cool around him. One day she was going to pin him against a wall with no warning and he won't see it coming.

“C'mon, Silje,” Ivar began. “Do you think I am that innocent?”

However today was not the day. She refused to answer this and engage on this slippery slope. Ivar was playing with her, he wanted to elicit a reaction.

“I can tell you where I bought them if you want the same,” she said, enjoying seeing his smirk drop. “They make bunny ones too.”

Defeated and disappointed, Ivar turned away from her. He mumbled something about her taking the fun out of everything, and went back to his task.

The comedy lasted another week, until Ubbe came along again and told him he could walk again.

“Not running a marathon, hear me?” He added right away when he saw Ivar's face light up. “You keep the leg brace, and you use the crutches. But you can take a walk, go grocery shopping or whatever you do with you time usually.”

“How thrilling. Might as well pick up an apron and settle down if I'm going to spend the rest of my days limping around,” he immediately complained, throwing his head against the back of the couch.

Ubbe patted his shoulder. Silje had called him a couple days after Ivar's injury and explained everything, which had considerably reduced Ubbe's hostility towards the young man. But not completely either.

“Can you lay off the drama for a second?” Silje huffed from the kitchenette. “Rejoice,” she told him in an overly optimistic voice. “You are now allowed to set foot outside of these four walls. Maybe you won't be as grumpy after some fresh air.”

That prediction came true. After his first walk Ivar was already less of a pain in the ass and stopped behaving like a child. Funnily enough, the nearest green area was Vestre Kirkegård which meant that Ivar and Silje regularly walked past the bench where she found him. He savoured the moment, enjoying how far he had come since this day. He liked to think that he had a little more control over his life than the first time he met Silje.

He even felt confident enough to make a move – at least he would if he could walk without those damn crutches. They didn't allow him to put his arm around Silje or even to let her hold his arm while they walked. No she simply strolled beside him with her hands in her pockets and cradling a cup of tea.

“Let's sit down,” he said, stopping in front of the bench instead of walking past it. “I wanna sit on this piece of wood one last time.”

“Feeling a little nostalgic?” She teased him, standing in front of him while he sat down, putting the crutches aside.

“No, I sit on it to establish dominance,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or maybe I like this bench? It's where I met a pretty girl.”

“I can't tell if you're joking or not, you're always looking at me like you know something I don't,” Silje told him and sat down.

“They say knowledge is where lies true power,” Ivar philosophized. “Why wouldn't I be serious? What makes you think I'm not?”

Silje laughed at this and gave him a scolding look.

“You are a relentless flirt, Ivar,” she told him but he only looked at her as if to say 'so what is your point?'. “You do it for the thrill and to make me uncomfortable.”

“Are you uncomfortable right now?” Ivar asked, leaning in closer to her and not detaching his eyes from her while she pondered her answer and bit her lip.

“No, uncomfortable wasn't the right word,” she eventually decided. “You try to make me nervous.”

“Unsuccessfully from what I can see, you always have an answer to my teasing no matter what I say.”

If anyone had heard this conversation they would have cringed. The air was tense and so electric Silje wondered if her hair wasn't standing on end. Speaking of hair...

“We need to do something about your hair,” she blurted out, effectively breaking the tension. “It's getting out of hand.”

“Wha-” Ivar began, gesturing around to show his disagreement. “My hair is perfect as it is.”

“It's not.” Silje shook her head under Ivar's puzzled gaze. “If you don't groom a little you'll never find a job.”

“A job?”

“Of course. Did you think I was gonna let you crash my place free of charge forever?” She scoffed and took a sip of her tea. Ivar leaned back against the bench and stared at her.

“You're kicking me out as soon as I can walk again?” He asked, truly astounded.

Not that he didn't see it coming, or thought he deserved it, but it was out of character for Silje. Or was it? Could he really tell after knowing her for a total of two months? Even if she did plan to dump him in the streets as soon as he was healed, this still came pretty much out of nowhere.

“No, I'm saying you help put bread on the table. You're not my charity case, remember? You're just a friend I'm helping get back on track.”

You're just a friend.

“You'll have to wait until August to apply for university, but until then you'll work. You don't need to pay a rent, my parents already cover the charges for the apartment and it's not like it changes anything for them if you live with me. I only ask you help pay for groceries and the water bill. You sure do enjoy your bath time so you can pay for it. The rest of the money you should save for dog days.”

“Sounds like you gave it some thought,” Ivar observed. “All right, I was going to do it anyway by the way, I wouldn't have abused your hospitality. I intend to contribute as best I can. But can we negotiate about my hair?”

“No.”

“What- but, why?”

“No.”

“That's not answering my question at all,” he complained but Silje merely smile innocently and finished her tea.

“It's beginning to rain,” she said. “Come, let's head back. I used to do my brothers' haircuts whenever their girlfriends didn't want to. I'm good at it.”

Ivar wanted to object again but he figured it might indeed feel good to get his mane tamed. It hadn't seen a pair of scissors in quite some time and grew long in the past year or so. Besides, going to a hair salon was out of the question, at least until his first pay check.

“Okay, but I get to choose what you do to my hair!”

“Whatever you say Ivar.”

Silje stood up and held her hand out for him. Ivar glared at it but still took the offered hand somewhat reluctantly. At least he tried to look reluctant. It was still warm from the cup of tea and she enclosed her fingers around his hand, dragging him away from the bench with a big smile on her face while he stumbled forward.

If you like my work please consider buying me a coffee <3

[imlyfie]

Lyf headcanons pt4

I've seen a lot of AUs and crossovers with HTTYD and can't help but think what if there was a new AU crossover of Vincenzo(kdrama) and Hiccstrid.

It would make for such an entertaining headcanon idea, like imagine a ruthless Hiccup who's playing Vincenzo being a badass mafia lawyer and Astrid being Cha Young, a brazen bold tenacious lawyer but with a twist of HTTYD universe. Although come to think about it Ruffnut's personality suits Cha Young more...

Since their personalities clash it would be messy if not written properly. But I want to see Hiccup as an antihero character who wants peace just as much as canon Hiccup and is ruthless enough to use merciless justice to achieve it. And as amazingly badass as Astrid is physically Cha Young's mental strength is something I think would very much complement these female leads very well.

Given Hiccstrid's witty comebacks and snarks (coughmainlyHiccup'scough), it would be fun to see them out of the Viking physical fighting stereotype for a bit and see Hiccstrid as badass lawyers who use wits and words instead of Inferno and the axe.

With enough backstory in this AU would be such a fun take since Vincenzo is dealing with the corruption of the law and HTTYD is dealing with adaptation and transformation from the old into the new (aka traditions to moderness).

The dragons would have to be inexistent tho. Else it's gonna be weird considering it to be a modern AU. Imagine Toothless as Inzhagi lmao.

And Viggo as Choi Myung Hee. Maybe Dagur as Park Seok Do or Hwang Min Seong. And Drago or Grimmel as Jang Han Seok. There would definitely be a lot of OC's as well.

And without the whole Maces and Talons metaphor, coz while it was a fun mind game it, soon got old with how much it was mentioned. And Viggo's actions were kind of predictable season four onwards once Hiccup match up with his game.

(P.s. this is just me being salty on the writers rtte coz some episodes especially seaason five onwards it felt more of like wasted potential rather than fulfilling. Like King of Dragons or 1&2 felt so rushed like huh?!) Anyays rants aside feel free to disagree.

Should I write it? Maybe I'll pos some headcanons here. It's gonna be a WIP.

[sugar-petals]

BTS Scenario: Dating a Tall Girl

a/n. inspired by anon who like me is a honorary member of the ‘taller than my bias’ assembly so let’s treat ourselves shall we 💃

warnings ⚠️  none, all fluff :)

➸ Taehyung Listen, listen. Here is the MVP. I mean think about it. Why’d you not put a model next to the shining man who embodies Gucci, Dolce, Gabbana, Versace, Armani, Prada, the Italian and French spirit! He can’t help but wanting to put designer clothes and accessories on her and show up together with her to stun at social events. That’s a lot of press and praise they’ll be getting. It’s only logical. Presents galore are on their way, she will be terribly spoiled and revered and he’ll admit he’s absolutely overdoing it. And then again, she’s also his number one cuddlebot and girl to hug in his sleep. No longer embracing pillows for this gent, and you can imagine he is in good hands. To summarize: It’s an all-round good idea.

➸ Seokjin Has been praying for a 6′2 queen for years. Being way on eye level with the number one worldwide handsome man sure is like a knighting or hitting the jackpot. Definitely knows how its like up there and will laugh at silly or embarrassing head bumping stories together with her. Tall life is like being a disoriented stormtrooper in a tiny ass spaceship, let’s be honest. Or they go on endless rants about never finding the right trousers because legs legs legs. Some Jinmoney has to solve that problem with a personal tailor am I right. As for their favorite activity: Jin will paddle out on a lake regularly to do some fishing together. Four long arms have a better chance than just two, so. It’s not the biggest ever deal to him, Seokjin doesn’t think it’s her utmost defining feature in their relationship.

➸ Yoongi Our open-minded fella (funny way to put it but you’ve heard him destroying ideal type stereotypes at fansigns a hundred times) who, despite being the smallest in the group, aims high in his usual manner. What Yoongi wants, Yoongi loves, and Yoongi gets. Or... does he date her to feel extra cute? Maybe so, maybe so! If he admits it, he’s a little bit jealous of her height, but also deeply protected. What other gf could feel like home and have such major roommate vibes. In his practical mind, and with time in particular, things get much more sorted out. If she has what he can’t have, and he himself is perky pocket size, why not fully capitalize on it. Yoongi will also draw inspiration for his songs out of her looks. 

➸ Jimin So, the sweet mochi man it is. A more difficult case. Will, as you might already suspect, take some time to get used to this when it plays out in daily life. But I think he’s gonna realize something. Just because he’s the tiny one, it doesn’t mean he’s less loved or gets overlooked because that’s what he fears, not actually being too smol. In fact, he owns his height really well once he knows he’s not ignored. Now: All the heaps of her affection arguably can’t be stored in his height but surely in his fluffy hair that can hold all the compliments in the world. So there’s that. What is gonna be immense fun to him is doing athletic activities with her. It’s always a sexy thing to do couple yoga or latin dance as a height difference pair. I think at the bottom of his heart, Jimin knows he makes the best little spoon.

➸ Hoseok What he thinks about her height? Swag! Looks up to her literally and figuratively and he enjoys it. Meanwhile, a lot of situational comedy will arise, I’m telling you. Hobi is going to tease her a bit for her occasionally lanky dancing if he dares. Maybe after a beer or two. She will simply say it’s ‘exquisitely Namjoonesque’ and call it a day. Nobody in their right mind will argue about their own jopping skills in front of Jung Hoseok. Now, in all seriousness. If his mixtape is blasting she will unlock new levels of moving her body, what did you think! He is definitely impressed by her physique and you know... the making out will be steamy out in public because this girl makes Hoseok reckless oh my god.

➸ Namjoon Talk about Joonie. We’ve heard he likes tall girls. And hey, the man is equipped with delicious logic, he got this figured out from the start. You gotta make the couple proportions work you know. So of course he won’t hesitate to ask her out once he worked out her character and if he’s her taste. Past that point, overcautious Namjoon is out the door, RM will take over from there. All of town quickly spreads the word because this double tower power simply cannot be overlooked strutting down the pavements. And, man. If Namjoon doesn’t come along with someone who can’t pinch his dimples, all that architectural efforts that God exerted when creating RM was for naught. Yeah boy, this is what a viking couple looks like. 

➸ Jungkook Frequent things he will say under his breath in reaction to her: “Just like Tyra Banks!” — “Blake Lively style!” — and even: “That was like Namjoon did it!” — Long story short, Jungkook can’t really hide his mixture of complete adoration and envy. How the world is like in her eyes is the most interesting thing to him, no wonder he’s always found by her side. So, it takes him a while to settle for a more moderate feeling about the height difference. He’s the kinda guy who formerly wished to be taller but has started to accept that he is somewhere in the middle where it’s actually a very comfortable spot as he learns. He likes to sit down with her to brush her hair or give a back massage.

art: Windflowers (1903) — by John W. Waterhouse

[aadmelioraa]

What do you think of Vikings Valhalla so far? I never finished Vikings - I LOVED it at first, but I just couldn't get through the last few seasons.

I enjoyed it! I would recommend it even if you didn't like the original show, and I would say that context is not necessary to watch the spin off. Putting the rest below a cut bc I get a little critical of the original Vikings.

Honestly I went in to VV with pretty low to moderate expectations, but I found it well paced with interesting characters. I have my issues with a few writing choices, but overall it's a solid first season imo. My main issue with the last few seasons of the original Vikings was that I could not stand the Ragnarssons lol...like...all of them. Or really...any of the men. I simply did not give a fuck, at best. The women were great, and they were the reason I kept watching to the end . I also was really only in it for the Saxon storylines by the end. In VV I have my faves but there aren't any characters (so far) that I absolutely loathe when they're onscreen lol. I am looking forward to the second season! I'm pretty interested in the period they're covering and the production value is good. It's worth a try if you are thinking about it—I would say by the first 1-2 eps you'll probably have an idea if you want to invest more time. The original Vikings definitely took bigger swings in terms of style and content, which were hit or (more often) miss for me. I am wondering if VV will amp up the unhinged factor at all...I don't imagine it will given it's a different show runner, but we'll see!

[fenristheorem]

My OC, Fenris

... and the Eldarya AU that she’s in, because I just can’t see her in the original Origins storyline with her differences from Guardienne/Erika. And I think my AU has some pretty interesting ideas. I’ll explain it after I introduce her.

Yea, I know, Fenris Theorem, Fenris, it all connects, huh? Hehe. I like the name, that’s all.

(This page is informational, so it’s written in a bit more of a note-taking fashion rather than a story fashion. It’s written in a very choppy manner but it’s comprehensible despite not having any stress on having it beautifully written.) 

This page just introduces you to my OC. I decided to create a page on her for the poll (now ended) because I think some people will really like small excerpts on her story with Lance, but obviously you need to know about her before deciding that for sure. You’ll notice that some theories I may have posted on Lance in the past are a part of this AU - these theories have been in my mind and I posted them only because I thought they could exist in the actual plotline (it’s where a lot of my theories come from, and then some ideas fit into the AU, and then some ideas could exist in the actual plotline as well based on what I observe), so this is where some of those theories come from.

For the poll - if anything, I would recommend reading the paragraph titled “*Her story in Origins (where many things are explained in moderation, because if I went in-depth I wouldn’t need to write stories on this):” above all else because that describes what I will be writing if the poll results shows that that’s wanted. Everything else is just extra information for you to know my OC and the AU better. The paragraph is at the bottom of the post.

Above all else, this is an AU, and a fantasy world. I like to try to give rationality and logic to a lot of things, so you’ll read a lot of me explaining things, but at the end of the day it’s all fantasy and can be perceived - and therefore approved or unapproved of - in a multitude of ways. If you like my AU but find it illogical in some ways, that’s no problem! Just enjoy reading about it if you enjoy the ideas within it. 😊

~ This is long so continue below the cut ~

A lot of this information can be a bit vague at first but it comes together when I explain the basic plot.

Her basics: She goes by Fenris but her actual name is Dakota. However, people usually call her Kota, or occasionally Ko (Fen is used later for Fenris, first by Ashkore / Lance, but later when she was discovered by the guard as well). She was 18 when she came to Eldarya via mushroom circle (like Guardienne/Erika). The guard test placed her in the Obsidian guard - she’s very happy with that outcome. Was in a relationship with Valkyon before leaving him for Lance (*explained later).

Physical Appearance: Unfortunately I don’t have a picture of her and nothing in Eldarya describes her and her clothing very well, so you’ll just need to imagine the physical features that I describe on Eldarya’s Guardienne sprite. Also, she’s pretty flexible with how she styles her hair and dresses, so I don’t think a single picture of her would describe her well.

Fair and light in skin tone, perhaps a slight tan-ish tone. Thin, but broad shouldered. She’s well-muscled (later on, less so when she first arrived), which gives her a bit of thickness, but not too much. Nicely curved. About 5 ft. 5 in. (167.64 cm). Dark hair, but not exactly black, with brown-hazel eyes. Her hair is medium-length and is usually braided in a multitude of styles. Her eyes occasionally glow a brilliant gold (explained under ‘abilities and genetics’ and ‘her story in Origins’).

Usually wears dark, ancient / tribal-like clothes (think Norse Vikings) with thin, form-fitting but strong armor around her forearms, lower legs (below the thigh starting from knees) and chest/midriff. She wears a good amount of red, blue, gold, silver or dark green clothing and accents with the black base for color. Usually nothing over-the-top, she likes to have her own unique style and express herself but doesn't like to draw unnecessary attention. Doesn't like most faux fur as it doesn't look nice in her opinion, but may wear some that she likes occasionally. Is more likely to wear real fur from hunted animals, but doesn't wear it too often. She wears a sword on her hip, and has a few semi-concealed daggers placed on her body (thigh, boot, torso) for quick use if needed.

Personality: She has a wide spectrum of how she acts depending on people, situations, what she knows, and her current mood. She's typically quite calm, and doesn't seek for trouble or drama, however, she does like to hear the recent news/gossip from around the guard; to stay updated on things, know what may effect her, try to think ahead and just for the sake of knowing. She's very curious and typically observes the situation around her, but in a very subtle way. Is a planner and likes to think ahead, and usually knows how to react to anything because of her observations and forward thinking. Around friends, she's very kind and welcoming. They can talk about anything to her and she'll keep her mouth shut - she has a good loyalty streak (but it does have a limit). However, she doesn't have any friends that are like family to her, but on the day she does find friends like that her loyalty will truly be endless. It's ride or die, and she'll always stand by their side. She has a major independent streak and can’t be around people for too long, otherwise she’ll crack and get a bit irritated more easily. She likes her alone time. In general, she's very cordial with people. Again, she doesn't like to cause unnecessary trouble or drama - she's had a rough past (discussed under ‘history’) and quickly shuts down anyone doing so in a professional but aggressive, don’t-argue-with-me sort of way. She can be harsh, cold and withholding - especially with people she genuinely dislikes - but doesn't like to act this way. On the note of people she dislikes- it's hard to get her to truly dislike someone, but it can be a bit easy as well. In general rule, as long as someone is conscious of the reality of the world around them and doesn't seek to cause issues, she's fine with them, but the instant someone starts continually spreading rumors that are clearly false, or acts (especially in a way that hurts others) solely in their selfish interests, or takes part in willful ignorance (purposely ignoring an issue that you know shouldn’t be ignored), she keeps note of that person and reminds herself to be wary of them in the future. They could be a source of trouble or misinformation that may need to be stopped, and she won’t be very forgiving. However, this is just a general rule, it doesn't always apply - remember she can change based on the situation and what she knows. She recognizes that sometimes people dislike things that are good for them, or like harmful things, and sometimes the villain is actually the hero, history and set rules are created by the winners and anyone against it is considered the villain, and sometimes you need to be cruel to be merciful. She's fully aware that sometimes the bad of life is good, and may defend that, but she's always sure to think long and hard about it before giving a decision like that. A lot of terrible things have happened to her, so she tries to avoid being a source of those terrible things for the world. She feels emotions very deeply and can be a bit impulsive, but fortunately she’s not typically hurt or gets others hurt due to her impulsivity. Again, she is very curious and observes things a lot, so she can usually get a good read on anything new she comes across and work from there, or she can use other information she knows and apply it to the situation. That being said, she won’t drag her friends or anyone else into her occasionally dangerous impulsive decisions. She’ll offer it if they’d like to join her, but she won’t pressure them. Their safety is their decision, and she’ll do her best to protect them although she can’t truly guarantee it. Being in the Obsidian guard, she can’t really condone anyone to risk their safety for fun, especially if it’s her idea. She has a good sense of responsibility when she works for what she believes in, and will sacrifice some of her comfort and fun making sure that she follows her responsibilities if needed. On the topic of her guard - when she first came to Eldarya and joined the Obsidian guard, she wasn’t too bad of a fighter upon basic training, but it was when she started training with Ashkore / Lance where her skills greatly improved until she was perhaps the best fighter in the guard, rivaled only by a few other warriors - including Valkyon. She’s not against helping others improve, but she’s very careful with what she tells the guard - if anyone knew her skills were due to Ashkore, she’d be in massive trouble and may be treated as a complete accomplice. She doesn’t like to lie unless truly necessary, so she’ll usually withhold lots of damning information, and she thoroughly thinks over everything she says, any possible answers to theoretical questions, how her words can connect with other things, and how it might be taken from someone else’s perspective, before revealing any information. Did I mention she’s very cunning and smart, especially after knowing Lance? She has prior knowledge in how to utilize sarcasm and wit, but that’s also improved after meeting Lance. 

She changes in time to be quite a bit more harsh and unforgiving when she starts working with Lance.

(For media reference, think of Lagertha from Vikings and Octavia from Netflix’s The 100. She’s a bit of a combination between the two, both in personality and appearance, although Octavia represents her a bit better in appearance.)

Abilities and Genetics: When she first came to Eldarya, she had no idea of her faery genetics. She never felt as though she belonged with humans and always felt that something was off, but she truly thought she was human genetically - until the guard had her take a test and realized she apparently had some faery blood in her (like what actually happened in the original plotline). She went a good while not knowing about what her genetics were, until Lance told her she was a dragon. She learned her abilities under his mentorship, and found that - to be more specific - she’s a shadow dragon. Her shadows appear usually like a pitch black fog, but can be manipulated into almost any form; hard or soft, thin or thick, curved or straight. It has a bit of a cold feel, but she can’t actually control the temperature of her shadows. She can adjust the color of her shadows along a grey-scale until it looks like any grey or silver, even looking like normal fog, but she can’t make it lighter than silver. She can also make pre-existing shadows darker or lighter depending on what she wants. Being a dragon, she also has a dragon form and can shift into a half-transformed body (like what’s seen with Tia). She has premonitions and prophecies as well. This ability typically manifests in dreams and can come to her the night before it manifests in reality, or even sometimes years in advance - there’s really no way to know. She struggles a lot trying to learn this - and to learn the difference between a premonition dream and just a normal dream - and has some basic understanding of it’s rules. She has absolutely no control over when she has these dreams, but she can occasionally put herself in a bit of a calm, meditative state where she can observe her surroundings enough to faintly feel energies, and from there she can receive some premonitions. When she receives premonitions or prophecies while awake, her eyes glow a brilliant gold - this stems from a more spiritual side of her genetics (*explained later). This ability to very hard to control, though, and can rarely be done despite her persistence in it. 

History: She... didn’t have a very peaceful life. Since her birth, her parents had basically been at war with each other. She grew up under a distinct combination of good influences and bad influences from both parents, but for the most part her mother was her major support as her father failed to be there for her. Neither extended family had much impact, but her father’s family knew of the terrible things he did and didn’t do anything. She continues to hold a grudge against many humans for being forced to live an endangered upbringing when she and her mother were so clearly crying for help. However, she’s aware that this is also what drives her some days, as she didn’t live through all of that just to die shamefully with an unlived life. In time, her grudge against humans has calmed, but it flares back up whenever she’s reminded or learned about something terrible that humans have caused or do currently - it’s a continuous battle and she has a hard time giving an honest opinion on humanity due to her complex emotions. She came to Eldarya when she was 18 (like Guardienne/Erika) and the rest is history (*and is explained below).

Relationships: Miiko is... alright. It’s a bit of a love hate relationship sometimes, but Fenris is usually quite cordial with her. Nevra and Ezarel were irritating at first, but Nevra’s lovableness and Ezarel’s humor slowly grew on her. She liked Valkyon when she first arrived and somewhat quickly pursued a relationship with him. She didn’t mind Leiftan - he was always very kind and left her alone while being cordial (remember, she’s not an angel in this so Leiftan wouldn’t be into her like how he was with Guardienne/Erika). Karuto is like the good father she never had, but she puts her foot down with him on occasion - she doesn’t like to be told what to do, scolded, treated like a child or anything. This is only because she views him in a bit of a fatherly way, and doesn’t want a repeat of her original father. She makes sure he knows that she truly appreciates him, though. Jamon is a bit of a brother if anything, but he’s really just a close friend / colleague that she likes a lot. She appreciates his gentleness and protectiveness for everyone. Ewelein is basically a second mom, she reminds Fenris a lot of her mom back on Earth and has a deep respect for the Elf. Chrome is a bit like an irritating little brother, but she also has a sisterly affection for him. Ykhar and Kero are the panic colleagues; she has a hard time seeing them doing anything else than panicking. She worries a bit for their health as long-term stress is destructive and tries to be as comforting and as nice as possible with them without betraying her personality and morals. Karenn and Alajea are close friends, almost sisterly, but not exactly so. She’s a bit closer with Karenn than she is with Alajea. Cameria is similar to Karenn in the way that she has a bit of a sisterly relationship with Fenris, but in more of a battle partner way. They have a tendency to train together a lot, and they heavily trust each other to have their back in war. Huang Hua is a bit of a friend / leader - she respects the phoenix a lot and has a bit of a close friendly relationship with her. Feng Zifu is a bit of a father figure in the manner that she respects him a lot. She likes to listen to his advice and appreciates his formality.

The AU: So before I explain the plot of the AU, I need to explain a few basics of how I set up the world. In this AU, the crystal breaking could destroy Eldarya, but if it’s shattered in a certain way with certain spells and chants, it’ll release the spirits of the dragons (who sacrificed to create the crystal) and allow them to retain a sort of half-living form - basically they’re alive but... not? It’s weird to  explain. Why does the crystal breaking in this way not destroy Eldarya? The sacrifice allowed a release of energy that originally created the world and then primarily manifested into the shape of the crystal that maintains that world, so this ritual that would be preformed upon it’s shattering would basically allow the energy of the dragons to maintain the world while allowing them to roam around in a different form - hence why they’d be half alive in a way. They’d be physical, but they have additions and limits on what they can and can’t do because they’re still technically dead. However, this isn’t common knowledge (because the guard protects the crystal, they’re the ‘only’ source of ‘accurate’ information on the crystal and both Yonuki Kaze and Miiko have stated that if the crystal breaks Eldarya will fall), only Lance has figured this out (and many of his mercenaries believe him or are working with him because of his destructive habits), so due to this, his ambitions are sort of split in two; destroy the crystal to revive the dragons, and destroy anyone who may try to stop him. In terms of history, Lance in this AU witnessed Miiko (and Nevra - there’s a history behind that that I won’t go into right now) sacrificing dragons to the crystal when he was a part of the guard to try and maintain balance and confronted her about it, only for her to threaten him (in basic; she was convinced sacrificing was the only way to keep balance, and that’s because Yonuki Kaze influenced her into thinking that, so from her perspective Lance coming along and saying it was wrong and had to stop was basically him saying to let the world die) to not tell anyone and stay out of it. Lance then spent a while researching and devising an idea on how to actually balance the world and this included destroying the crystal in a specific way to release the energy (technically there are two ways; the sacrifice was supposed to happen with dragons AND angels, so the ritual was devised to work with the two, but a ritual originally for two races used only with one is basically a ritual preformed improperly, and therefore bound to yield improper results - hence the infertility of the world and shiftiness of it. Undoing the ritual would allow the world to stay while “canceling out the sacrificial imbalance”, but if an angel or demon were to willingly sacrifice - preferably alongside a dragon at the same time - then it would be solved in that way as well). Lance tried to explain this to Miiko later, only to barely get past “I have another idea” before being shut down again. He kept quiet because he feared for himself and his brother (and the only reason Lance could have known that dragons were being sacrificed - without being a dragon himself - is that Miiko said it during the sacrifice he saw, so he didn’t want to raise suspicion onto him and his brother). Later on, Lance is sent to lead an army in a foreign land and is nearly killed, but he saw a chance to escape the guard and took it. From there he’s been Ashkore.

Basically this AU - instead of being “oh no, he’s trying to destroy the world because he’s angry and hurt” - is actually more like “if you had listened the world could be stabilized and also a powerful race could be revived.” It takes the trope of hero and villain and twists it, so the villain is actually a bit of an underdog, villainous hero while the hero’s are - in a way - villains who are heroes because their damning stories haven’t been revealed in a wide-spread manner. Overall, it’s supposed to blur the lines of good and bad, and right and wrong - showing that both sides have good and bad within them, and which side is ‘good’ can depend solely on perception and one’s life anecdote.

*Her story in Origins (where many things are explained in moderation, because if I went in-depth I wouldn’t need to write stories on this): Dakota came to Eldarya by accident via mushroom circle and was placed into the Obsidian guard. She adjusted in time (and willingly took the potion in episode 13 to ease her family / mother of pain and worry) until she got used to things and entered into a romantic relationship with Valkyon. She was sent on basic missions and such and met Ashkore a few times in war (and around the guard), and then she met him accidentally while alone later on outside of the guard. He offered to train her (more like threatened if she didn’t?) and she accepted in time. They trained at night, which was a bit of an issue as she now shared a room with Valkyon and, therefore, had to sneak around. Her skills quickly improved, and her relationship with Valkyon began to decline as he began to become a bit confused / suspicious about her sudden and seemingly random upturn in skills. There were feelings of neglect as well. This carried on for many months and Dakota learned more about Ashkore as well as herself. He eventually admits that she’s a dragon and that he’s investing some of himself into her because of that, and she does her best to explore her abilities with him after that. Eventually she accidentally discovers his actual identity, but keeps quiet about it. As they grow closer, she begins to ask more about him and his reasoning, and he explains his motives for going after the crystal while brushing on the topic of why he’s ruthless to some, but leaves others alone. As she discovers the truth about the dragons and Lance, she realizes that her feelings to the guard were based on lies and false implications, and she begins to grow mentally and emotionally closer with Lance. She becomes less empathetic / sympathetic with Valkyon and eventually sleeps with Lance. This happens a few more times and they enter a sort of limbo where they don’t talk about their relationship with each other but know there’s something heavy going on. Back in the guard, she’s still with Valkyon, and she begins an internal war on what exactly her plan is knowing that she’s sleeping with two guys on the opposite side of a war and that it can’t continue. Her and Valkyon break up in time and she invests her full time into training with Lance, expressing interest in joining his cause. They begin to work together and he gifts her with a specific outfit / armor (that can alternate between identity concealing and revealing for her comfort and safety) so she can go on missions with him. They develop an elaborate scheme to allow her to go on long-term missions with him without suspicion from the guard. She’s eventually sent on a mission and it’s on that mission that she discovers her relation to an ancient dragon named Fenris, and then expresses her interest in taking that name to Lance and the rest of his allies that she’s met (from then on she’s known as Fenris with Lance and Dakota in the guard). Back at the guard, she continues training with Lance and maintaining some sort of odd relationship with himin secret. She’s found elaborate ways to get out of the guard without their suspicion so she can spend many days at a time alone with Lance in a cabin he has hidden in the forest. Over the span of many months / years, she goes on missions with the guard to foreign towns / establishments that are attacked by Ashkore - whether she knows that prior or not - so as she trains she also has actual encounters where she needs to truly fight Lance without actually hurting him while looking as though she’s truly trying to hurt him. When she’s allegedly away on some missions from the guard, she wears the armor that Lance gave her to campaign with him and this occasionally leads to her fighting against the guard if they’re around. In this time and when they’re alone, Lance and allies calls her Fenris as she’s requested them to do. Eventually they go to Memoria together and find out that they have a deeper connection than they think - Fenris (who was an ancient dragon that Dakota took the name of due to her relation with him) and Tia actually knew each other and had a complex history that carried forward to Lance and Dakota / Fenris, and there’s a prophecy of sorts surrounding them. Their relationship after that is still complex, but is more stable as they confirm an attachment to each other. Lance’s identity is eventually revealed to the guard, and sometimes later Fenris is revealed as well, and Lance - in very short, important seconds - offers her to join him completely outside the guard’s walls. She accepts and they flee the guard for a while and plot. Eventually they attack the guard in a final push and get to the crystal, successfully breaking it with... some losses. From there is the skip to ANE, but New Era is... complicated. I haven’t yet thought how she fits into ANE, as many things would be different. Maybe I won’t put pressure on creating her story in it, but if I do I might list it here. Her story in ANE would need to be based off of her story I have here in Origins.

If I write excerpts of this, there may also be many more adventure scenarios that are written but aren’t mentioned here (Lance offering to “help” the guard bring down another greater threat and then turning his forces on them in the midst of war for his own gain, sending them on a wild goose chase, the guard tracking them through rough, unforgiving landscapes trying to catch them, etc.) depending on how the details of her story manifest.

I apologize; that’s a lot to read but I can be very specific and this AU has a lot of important detail that separates it from the original Origins storyline. And this talks over my OC’s details and an AU, which is a lot since there’s not a lot of referencing because I’ve never talked about either before... However, if you’ve read all the way through this post - congrats, and I hope you’re interested in it!

Again, writing excerpts about my OC and her storyline in this AU is an option you can vote on in my writing poll that determines what I’ll write now so I can post later when I can’t access my Tumblr for a few weeks, so if you’re interested in reading about this then please read the info I have about the poll here and feel free to vote!

[therealeagal]

Things I know about the United States.

Ah, the United States of America. Land of the free and home of the brave. Where we crown our good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea. A new land promised to our forefathers by God himself, away from the European rabble.

The party line is that they were fleeing religious persecution, although I have heard (don’t quote me on this) that they were fleeing because Europe wouldn’t let them religiously persecute certain people. If true, it would explain a great deal about how Americans behave.

The United States is a big place. Really big. It takes up most of North America. The USA is divided into fifty states (plus a smattering of territories).

Can you name all fifty states off the top of your head? I bet you can’t. I bet most people can’t. I certainly can’t. And even if I could I would only know like, one or two things about each of them. Though I’m an American, I probably know less about America than some non-Americans. In no particular order, we have;

New York? No one gives a shit about New York state. New York state is New York City’s giant bitch and everyone knows it. Sorry non-NYC-New-Yorkers. I don’t make the rules.

Texas? It used to be its own country, you know. For like five minutes until the United States slapped it down to remind it who’s daddy. Also, it’s got the biggest of everything. Especially (one might argue) douchebags. In both senses of the word, I have to imagine. Sorry Texans. I don’t make the rules.

Alaska. Oil and also it used to be Russian. Also the biggest state, which Texas is probably mad salty about.

Florida. Old people and alligators and Disney, traditionally, but these days it’s mostly known for that Bugs Bunny animation where Bugs saws Florida off the United States. I don’t remember the original context, but suffice it to say, most people outside of Florida tend to agree with Bugs’ decision for other reasons involving the Republican party. I reserve comment.

Hawaii. Beaches. Volcanoes. I remember there was a thing about a telescope that people didn’t want to be built for some reason. I think it’s the most recent state. Used to have a queen until America “bought” it (in much the same way that Russia is currently in the process of purchasing Ukraine).

Alabama. Oh, I think we all know what Alabama is famous for. Sorry, Alabamans, I don’t make the rules.

Idaho. Potatoes. That’s it. That’s all anyone knows about it, really.

Ditto Arkansas and Bill Clinton.

Wisconsin? Cheese and the Packers.

Minnesota. I know literally nothing about Minnesota. The Vikings? They’ve got a sports team called the Vikings, right? Or is that someone else?

Michigan. It makes the cars. Also, Detroit. Also, that thing in Flint with the water, right?

Ohio. Cleveland. No one cares about Ohio except for Cleveland. Ohio is the New York to Cleveland’s NYC. Sorry Ohioans. I don’t make the rules.

Nevada. Las Vegas. Also, maybe Reno. MAYBE.

California. Crazy people. Crazier than shit-house rats. On drugs. Also, Hollywood. Though that may be redundant. There’s also Los Angeles. Golden Gate Bridge, yes. Very famous landmark.

Massachusetts. Boston. Which I am continuously surprised to learn is not a suburb of NYC. Sorry, Bostonians. I don’t make the rules. Also it was one of the original 13 colonies if Assassin’s Creed 3 is to be believed. I should replay some of them old AC games. The series has gone to pot lately, but I remember quite liking 3.

Vermont? What’s Vermont got? Vermont's got nothing. Vermont keeps its head down. When was the last time Vermont was in the news?  Never. Vermont has a moderate Republican governor. It’s walking the razor’s edge of bad publicity. California can afford bad publicity. Everyone knows Californians are crazier than shit-house rats. On drugs. Vermont can’t afford bad publicity.

Louisiana. N'awlins. That’s how the cool kids say New Orleans. It’s basically all there is in Louisiana. It and Baton Rouge, which is French for red stick. The French are not known for their creative nomenclature.

New Mexico. What was wrong with Old Mexico?  We didn’t need a new one. There’s nothing in New Mexico anyway.

Arizona. The starting point for trips to Tacoma.

Washington has Seattle. And Seattle only has the Space Needle.

North Dakota. I think Mt Rushmore is there? Or was it the Grand Canyon? I don’t know anything else about it.

South Dakota. Ditto.

Rhode Island. It’s the smallest state, land-wise. That’s all I know about it.

How many is that? That’s only like 20. There’s way too damn many states.

What else? Mississippi. A hard to spell name. Neighbors with Alabama and Louisiana, which oughta tell you a lot.

Uhhhhh....Maryland. It’s got Washington D.C., home to POTUS, literally the worst job on the planet.

New Jersey. Uhhh...Jersey Shore? That’s all I know about it.

Maine. The one at the top right. That’s all.

So I can only name 23 states off the top of my head and 4 more given a bit of thought. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.

[aphspain-pure]

Back to de past, right to the future [Chap. I]

Category: Fanfic. 

Pair: EngSpa, UkSpa. 

Words: 2.611.

Genre(s): drama, historical, yaoi. 

Abstract: England feels some magical disturbance in the air that morning. How could he have imagined that it was caused by his own self, but some centuries ago. 

Pirate England suddendly appears in the Modern Era. 

________________

When he opened his eyes, England could not focus well. 

It was dark and cold, but the tremendous and familiar humidity of his cabin or any of the parts of his ship was not noticeable. Nor could he feel the typical rocking of the waves of the high seas, so he deduced that, God knows why, he was not in his boat.

He scrambled to his feet and took a quick look around him in dismay. He was in complete darkness but, thanks to the patch over his left eye, he was quickly able to get used to the lack of light. Only then he did recognize the place.

This was his magic room, where since Viking occupation times he had conjured his spells and his miracles. It was cloudy, dark and penetrating as always. There was nothing out of place except for him, who couldn't bring himself to remember how in the hell he had gotten there. He did not remember even having arrived at port, even having approached Great Britain. The last thing he remembered was being on his ship, somewhere between the Caribbean and the West Indies, and he couldn't figure out how or when he ended up there.

Grunting in disagreement, with a hangover of a thousand horrors, he decided to leave the questions unanswered for later and get up, dusting himself off, ready to go out and yell at the first servant who crossed his path. He didn't know what was going on but he didn't care, at least he wouldn't think about it until he'd had his first shot of whiskey or rum and kicked a couple of arse.

Or so he thought, unhinged, until he opened his special room’s door and took a look outside.

- What the bloody hell?

 ____________________________

In another part of London, England watched the energy in the air with a puzzled countenance, noticing slight arrhythmic disturbances in the wind while enjoying his famous breakfast tea. He was in a cozy old café from his Victorian era that still stood to this day and which England cherished with pure English love and courtesy. He had decided to have breakfast there, early, to arrive with plenty of time for the world conference that day. That was why he had left the house exceptionally early, even if he usually preferred to get up at a moderate hour and take it easy on homely mornings.

He sighed. He had once been a man of action.

Maybe America was right when he accused him of being a boring old curmudgeon.

He calmly finished his cup of tea, retrieved his coat from the courteous waiter who had stripped him of it earlier –a practice which, now almost extinct in modern times, England greatly appreciated-, thanked him and left. The day was cloudy and threateningly rainy in London, as usual.

Thus, once outside, he felt again that feeling of unease that had been attacking him for some time. A spiritual unrest, as if something bad was about to happen. Deciding not to become paranoid, he called his chauffeur to take him to the boardroom right in the center of Westminster.

 __________________________

He arrived early, and the only other nations besides himself already there were Germany, Switzerland, Netherlands, and Japan. The rest would still be in their respective hotels or even, if they had decided to fly from their countries that morning, on the plane or the airport. As far as he knew, France used to prefer the latter option when meetings were held at his place, preferring to spend as little time as possible on British soil. And England could not say that it did not understand or disapprove of it; moreover, he would resort to the same when the situation was the opposite.

He walked over, respectfully greeted the three blonde nations, and calmly placed himself next to Japan. His transoceanic friend gave him a slight bow of the head. - Ohayo gosaimasu, Igirisu-san. How has the sun risen today? –he commented, in an appropriate and neutral tone.

England appreciated the chivalricism. – It isn’t being one of my best days, but I cannot complain. Anyway, good morning to you too, Japan. –And the Japanese gave him a small and short smile.

After that all went silent, and the only thing that was heard for a few minutes was the chalk of Germany hitting the blackboard as he wrote down the important points of the day. Everyone knew that the meeting would probably end as usual, with nothing clear, with the United States laughing and claiming to be a hero every few seconds, the odd country asleep, hysterical discussions between itself and France and Russia trying to make people become one with him, but Germany still insisted on trying to create a serious atmosphere. Internally, England admired and appreciated his dedication, even if it didn't get real results in the end.

Eventually the rest of the countries began to arrive one by one. The feeling of discomfort and that something was wrong did not leave the guts of the host country, anyway.

There was something strange, even dangerous, floating in the atmosphere. His sharp, mint green eyes scanned every corner trying to find the source of the discomfort, unable to find anything. He had a pleasant conversation with Luxembourg when he arrived and later he chatted with Portugal a bit, all automatically while he went over everything. Each time the air was tighter from a supernatural point of view, as if the Disaster itself was drawing closer and closer.

It wasn't until Norway appeared in his field of vision that England paid any real attention to something. 

Usually they would do nothing but greet each other from afar with a minimal movement of the head. But if Norway had stood there, in front of him, it definitely meant something.

Getting to the point, the Nordic inquired. - What the hell is happening here? –With his frankness and usual calm voice.

England, sighing, crossed his arms and furrowed his thick eyebrows.

- It's been bothering me since this morning. I don't know what the hell it can be, but it's downright disturbing. It is… like a powerful presence but at the same time cloudy. And the strangest thing of all is that it looks strangely familiar to me.

- Yeah… -the other man agreed-. It's ... certainly familiar in some way. –Then he looked around-. And every time it seems to increase that energy. You haven't used magic again while drunk, have you? –And for a moment, England looked offended. At least before recalling the hundreds of times it had actually happened, after which he quietly apologized.

Trying to hide that he was somewhat ashamed of himself, he cleared his throat and muttered that he didn't remember conjuring anything lately. That definitely upset the Norwegian's stern gesture a bit.

- So this doesn't make sense.

A moment later the Italian brothers entered and Germany called the session off. He and Norway were forced to separate, but not before sending each other glances of beware of anything and nodding in agreement.

But in these, just as Germany was about to start with the first point of the day, the main gate that led to the huge boardroom was thrown open. 

And the most incredible thing happened.

- What the hell is going on here by gad!? –The sordid growl of the new presence broke in. They all immediately turned to look there and, simply petrified, England stood up, shocked, knocking the chair over.

In front of them stood an astonishing 17th century pirate captain, dressed in his grandiose red coat, his worn flat boots, his jeweled saber, his open ruffled shirt, the typical gold ear rings, the eye patch in the eye and the so characteristic captain's hat. His voice had been sordid and commanding and his eyes exuded the amusement and danger of a true saltwater buccaneer. Someone who, at least the European countries and some former colonies, recognized immediately. He licked his lips leisurely as he began to draw his sword.

- You're already singing if you don't want to die, you louts! What does this all mean? –And pointed the sword towards the large table full of perplexed countries.

The attention fell entirely on him, in a frozen moment of time, until someone else claimed it.

- What the bloody hell are you doing here!?

Then the newcomer pirate's eyes lifted until, surprised and interested, they rested on the emitter. He looked directly at England, dressed and mature, with an uneasy and confused smile. - I should ask you the same. What is this all supposed to be? –taking great strides and dangerously dancing his saber with that deranged look of his-. You better start spitting it all out if you don't want to taste my steel, you fucking bastard.

And England, still not fully recovered from his shock, tried to articulate something to calm the hotheaded just as the door opened a second time. This time, timidly and slowly.

- Eh… Hello? I'm sorry I'm late again, I've fallen asleep again haha… -from a newcomer Spain who nervously rubbed the back of his neck with an embarrassed gesture.

This intrusion impressively attracted the pirate’s attention. 

- You... –he blurted out, lifting the eyepatch to see perfectly with both eyes, as a wolfish grin stretched the corners of his lips and he screamed in exaltation-. On guard, you bastard!

And before Spain could even react, the subject came forward like a veritable bloodthirsty beast towards him. The ancient empire, instinctively, placed his body on guard against the imminent attack, which he would have been about to receive if it had not been for the sudden cry that devastated the room:

- SLEEP!

And the body of the said pirate man fell inert to the ground. England had conjured something to make him abruptly fall asleep. The boardroom was suddenly silent.

England and Spain looked at each other in shock.

- ...What the hell?

_____________________

 When pirate England emerged from the dark abyss of unconsciousness again, it appeared to be back at its home outside London. He blinked a few times as he growled and groaned at the post-spell pain in his tormented mind. He cursed the other England, the one from the future who had had such a naughty face, and tried to regain control of his body.

It was then that he was known prisoned. His arms were tied with a thick, scratchy rope to the back of the chair he was sitting on. He raised an eyebrow for a moment, really not very impressed, and later turned his gaze straight ahead.

The familiar face of his presumed captor managed to get an idle, amused smile from his lips.

- Scared that I might bite you, darling?

Which was quickly answered by a. – Dare to even suggest such a thing and I will hang you before you can take a step. –Which brought an even bigger smile and a greater sparkle in the other's eye.

There, sitting on the sofa, Spain was holding a rare article of paper with many hyper-realistic letters and images that he seemed to be reading carefully. But England knew better. He knew as the best what face this handsome jerk made when he was really focused, and the one he made when he tried to fake it. Catching Spain in the middle of that picaresque action seemed as charming as it was amusing, and he could not but fall into the temptation to frustrate him in his attempt.

- I do not know anything about the future, but just by seeing those whore's clothes that you bring, I think I would not mind being in your humble care a little more.

A vein was marked in Spain’s forehead who, honestly, had been years, decades…! With no real dislike for England. An insincere and tight smile showed his vain attempt at impassiveness. –This I am wearing is a simple "shirt", the type of garment that is worn today for formal meetings.

- Well, what a scandal, how immoral! With that tight-fitting blouse, I could see your nipples from nautical miles away. –To which, with a new vein marked, Spain jumped just at the time that contemporary England entered the room.

He carried with him a small silver tray with two porcelain mugs of Earl Grey and a few small butter cakes. His entrance surprised the other two. Immediately, however, Spain pointed at the captive and yelled at the newcomer. – Tell this uneducated you that neither my shirt is obscene nor am I a whore, now!

That sudden demand caught England off guard, whose first thought was to look directly at the named shirt, seeing, therefore, how the white fabric hugged and made the tanned skin transparent. He swallowed hard for a moment, which his other self took advantage of to act funny.

- From the familiar treatment that you two maintain I deduce that, very and at the same time not so much to my regret, in the future the Spanish Empire and I have that kind of intimate relationship. –Whistling at the sudden sight of a red and indignant England and an angry Spain-. In the bull’s eye, isn't it?

Making that this time, yes, Spain was so frustrated that he ended up pouncing on him.

The action awakened the green in the captive's eyes, amused to the core that he had finally made the future version of his rival lose his temper. Spain fell on him, a pair of strong hands and –although not as calloused as he himself remembered- still rough from the work in the fields surrounding his neck with accumulated resentment. 

He held back a smile.

- Ahh... I see that you are both quite rusted …

And, shocking Spain (who had still been trying to hang him), he broke free from his moorings and abruptly swapped positions.

England, from outside, watched in shock and without being able to speak as, in front of his eyes, his former self turned the tables and placed himself with the force of a beast above his current EU partner. Spain had fallen backwards and his hands had been forcibly captured on his head; he writhed like a sardine as he looked badly and –almost- growled at the one who just two seconds ago had been tied to a chair. Immobilizing his body, the pirate had mounted on him, leaving him unable to actuate any movement.

Looking indiscreet and almost with little concealed grimace, England glanced in the direction of present-day Britain. - Even a bastard child who has not seen more boobs in his life than his mother's would have loosened a knot that simple. –He growled, nodding at the untied rope lying on the ground. Making disgust, this time he directed his words to Spain under his grip-. Are you grossly underestimating me or are you so old that you have forgotten what you were capable of in the past...?

The three pairs of green eyes maintained that tense look for a few long seconds in which, little by little, the pirate began to change that tension for a deeper emotion. 

Darker and more penetrating eyes as they went down through the other's tanned build.  – Although I have to admit that this body is not that of an old man, no sir ... –taking the liberty of passing a hand from Spain’s chin to his tanned chest-. It's been a while since I saw this sinful skin so closely, I presume since 1588 …

And Spain’s eyes expanded in shock, while modern England’s nearly shook in bewilderment.

The apparition of Pirate Era England had opened something that had been buried centuries ago.

[wisdomrays]

TAFAKKUR: Part 325

A JOURNEY IN THE ATMOSPHERE: Part 2

AN AMAZING FILTER

The troposphere, the atmosphere's first layer, is 8 kms thick at the poles and 17 kms thick at the equator. Its highest point is around 22 kms. After this comes the stratosphere, which is about 50 kms thick and has a higher temperature. This layer prevents the sun's high energy radiations from reaching Earth. The ozone layer, which is vital for life on Earth, is located in the stratosphere. Ozone, which filters the sun's hazardous rays, is a compound made of three oxygen atoms. The ultraviolet rays convert oxygen molecules into ozone by combining with oxygen.

Some human-made chemical products harm the ozone layer and thus enable ultraviolet rays to reach Earth's surface. One result has been an anomalous increase in cancer rates, as high-energy ultraviolet rays have very short wavelengths and thus can potentially break the bonds of DNA molecules. These waves, if they reach Earth, also heat up Earth's atmosphere. An increase of 10 C is enough to cause blood and sap to boil.

Thus we can understand the ozone layer's role in maintaining this very sensitive balance. Those who claim that such perfection is casual are unable to read the signs God sends to His creatures.

A COMPARISON

To appreciate these blessings, consider the moon: Its diurnal temperature reaches 120'C, while its nocturnal temperature plunges to -150'C. It is a desolate, silent, and dead place constantly afflicted by meteor showers and ultraviolet rays. This does not happen on Earth, because the carbon dioxide and water molecules in its atmosphere absorb the sun's excess radiation. This limits the temperature rise during the day and preserves heat for the night. The atmosphere screens hazardous radiation from the sun during the day and preserves the temperature at night. This roof' gives our planet a moderate climate, while other planets suffer from extreme temperatures.

The water in oceans and seas, which cover approximately 75 percent of Earth's surface, regulates Earth's climate. It protects the land from the freezing polar climate and from the scorching temperature of the tropics. Land easily radiates the energy absorbed from the sun's radiation and thereby ensures a moderate climate.

Although the oceans and seas face higher radiation rates, it is hard to raise their temperatures. Millions of solar calories from the sun are needed to raise the water's temperature by only a couple of degrees Celsius. Also, this water does not cool easily. This resistance to temperature change enables it to regulate the climate and provide water to the land via evaporation. If the land-sea/ocean ratio were lower, Earth would be full of deserts. Given this, how can we not see the plan of the Artist who created the universe with infinite wisdom?

METEORS

The next level, the mesosphere, extends for the next 80 kms.3 It protects Earth from the meteors that used to scare the Vikings. This is vital, for many meteors fall to Earth every day, as Earth's gravitational pull attracts them. Also known as shooting stars, they disappear when they enter the atmosphere, for the combination of great speed and atmospheric air reduces them to dust. Without this shield, we would face the meteors every day, just as the astronauts who visited the moon discovered. This dust then goes on to form clouds by joining with water particles until a certain density is reached and the resulting mercy of rain falls to Earth according to a physical and mathematical plan.

A MIRROR FOR RADIO WAVES

Now we come to the ionosphere, which extends for the next 400 kms. Here, all particles have either a negative or a positive electrical charge.

People were astonished when the wireless radio was invented. However, scientists saw a huge problem: Since radio waves must travel on a straight path, and Earth is a sphere, they could travel only 100 kms. But in 1901, England and Canada were able to communicate via wireless radio across the Atlantic ocean because particles in the ionosphere have an electric charge that makes them reflect radio waves coming from Earth back to Earth. The ionosphere was seen to be like a large echo chamber in space.

Thus we see that God took the needs of all centuries into consideration when creating Earth. As our knowledge increases, we discover what He placed there at the time of creation to benefit us at a later date.

MAGNETIC SHIELD

Next comes the exosphere, which extends another 2,000 to 3,000 kms. Here, there is almost no air and friction. Molecular collisions gradually decay, and the relative meaning of temperature no longer applies. Thus most satellites are placed in orbit at this layer.

A compass always points north on Earth because of the magnetic field lines. If we follow this direction, we reach the North Pole. Such knowledge enables us to navigate on land, sea, and air quite easily.

The poles are situated at opposite ends of a hypothetical axis passing from the middle of a hypothetical circle forming the equator. But they are only geographical”not magnetic”poles. The magnetic North Pole is located at the edge of the Ellef Ringes islands in northwestern Canada, 1,290 kms south of the geographical North Pole. The magnetic South Pole is located at Adelie Land in Antarctica. There are various explanations, but no solutions, about what causes these magnetic fields. One theory claims that magnetic field lines (Van Allen Belts) surround the Earth because of the hot liquid iron and nickel at its center.

This layer, the seventh, largest, and final layer, functions as a magnetic shield. The magnetosphere consists of belts formed by magnetic densities. The closest belt to Earth is 4,000 kms distant. The second belt is 16,000 kms distant and can effect things up to 30,000 kms distant. These invisible belts catch and prevent dangerous cosmic rays and charged particles from entering the lower levels by changing their direction. Thus these cosmic rays (having the force of atomic bombs) and solar winds (high-energy electron-carrying atoms) do not reach Earth. Before any of the atmosphere's properties were discovered, the Owner of Earth and the sky told us about the atmosphere's shielding: And We have made the sky a roof withheld (from them). Yet they turn away from its portents (21:32).

THE BALANCE IN THE ATMOSPHERE

Atmospheric gases, because of their nature, seek to scatter into space while gravity works to pull them down and keep them. However, a perfect balance ensures that neither development will happen. Using Earth's mass, radius and gravity, and several other factors, the precise calculations and adjustments that maintain this balance are beyond even the imagination of humanity.

If Earth were closer to the sun, its air would be hotter and these hot gases would rise and leave the atmosphere. If Earth were further away from the sun, they would be pulled down onto Earth's surface. If gravity were a little more or less than its current value, the same situation would occur. In addition, the incoming heat must be held for some time. This is done by carbon dioxide.

And yet our planet is a warm and lighted home moving rapidly in cold, dark space. In this home, we have everything we need. To appreciate what we have, all we have to do is compare it with the moon. Do those who seek the source of these actions in blind nature or unconscious and unintelligent reason know that they must assume that all lifeless and unconscious particles must have the knowledge of how to create the universe; how to meet every need and action of all parts of existence (especially of humanity), and also have absolute power to make these processes function with complete perfection for all of eternity?

[tvdversefanfiction]

Original Love

Warnings: I do not own nor claim to own the copyright or any of the characters within the TVDverse which consists of shows including “The Vampire Diaries”, “The Originals”, and “Legacies”. 18 Plus: Some chapters may contain graphic descriptions of sex, sexual smut, and fluff, that may be considered somewhat pornographic but only some chapters, think of it as a plot with some porn instead of porn with a plot. All chapters contain moderate to strong violence, language, and sexual innuendos. Strong displays of violence, gore, and torture, with supernatural horror elements and scenes of a sexual nature. F/F, M/M, F/M, GEN, OTHER +

CHAPTER ONE HERE

Chapter 2 - The Price of Friendship

Sometime within the 13th Century…

Darla Petrova had a rather tragic upbringing, having been abandoned on the doorstep of an orphanage located south of France in a small town called Pierlot when she was six years old, under the belief her parents Emile and Germain Petrova would one day come back for her but they never did. The orphanage in which Darla spent the remaining of her childhood was run by nuns, nuns which were not particularly kind nor unkind but strong in their religious believes which mean when a sixteen-year-old Darla began showings signs of the traveler magic within her they quickly began seeing her as an apprentice to the devil, forcing her out of the orphanage, without a penny to her name. The town of Pierlot quickly began hearing the gossip about Darla Petrova from the loose lipped nuns as this young girl was quickly labelled as the bride of Satan, a label in which she found no choice but to revel in as she used her bad reputation to form a way of living, making an earning independently and using it to help create the one thing she always longed for, a home, a place to belong, a place that was hers, and could not be taken from her like everything else had been her whole life. Darla played the role of Satan’s bride very well using it as her niche within the sex market she had begun working in, quickly making enough to buy her own home, taking other women in as turning her house into a brothel, turning the seemingly quiet and perfect town of Pierlot into a fit of chaos as their hatred for Darla Petrova continued to grow. Despite having many reasons to hate all of humanity Darla had a soft spot for lost girls, girls that reminded her of herself, taking them in and teaching them the ways of life, living by her standards, creating a brothel out of lost girls who not only found themselves but learned to fend for themselves, to not rely on anyone, and most importantly answer to no-one. It did not take long for the women who lived with Darla Petrova to find their reputations just as tarnished as the so-called devil’s bride, however, come night many of these townsmen flocked to Darla’s little whore house, some of these men in question being powerful men which ultimately put Darla and her girls into a place of power themselves. Darla had built for herself a sinner’s paradise within the town of Pierlot, making the most out of nothing but what little happiness she found herself having was fleeting as she soon found herself going down her darkest path yet, led by a man she believed was her friend, a man who was more monster than man, a man who went by the name Kol Mikaelson.

Within their first meetings, Darla could tell there was a darkness within her new favorite client, but he also paid his dues and brought great humor, fun, and even more debauchery to her home proving himself quite a hit with Darla’s women who found themselves enjoying their time with Kol Mikaelson just as much as he clearly enjoyed them. Darla found the darkness she sensed from Kol alluring, knowing there was darkness within herself too, but it was not until one fateful night when the fearless Petrova woman was out for a late-night walk that she truly got a glimpse into Kol’s true nature and instead of being afraid or disgusted she found herself excited, intrigued and dying to get as much out of her new friend as she possibly could. “I’ve heard about your kind, it’s truly remarkable the kinds of creatures who walk through my doors, particularly the creatures that need to be invited in first,” Darla said to Kol after finding him in a dark alleyway, seeing him in full vampire face mode as he drank from a man’s neck, draining his victim of his blood before throwing the lifeless body to the ground. “I know I’m some kind of messed up version of a witch in fact that is how I earned the title of the devil’s bride, but it was not until I met someone like you that I found myself not only wanting to explore that side of me but wanting so much more than just a place to call home in a tiny part of a big bad world.” “You’re a witch? I’m generally good at spotting a witch but I must admit I did not think of you as one.” Kol admitted as he cleaned the blood of his victim off his face, his vampire face turning back to his normal face, as he walked over to the woman who had just witnessed his latest murder. “If I were a good woman then I’d scream right now, wakening the town to learn of a gruesome murder, however, everybody already knows I am not a good woman and those who are not under my roof are not my problem…you could murder every last one of them for all I care about,” Darla replied to the original vampire, shocking him by her lack of fear towards the situation she had found herself in. “There’s a darkness inside of me too but I am, but, a novice, and something tells me that you would make the perfect tour guide to lead the devil’s whore into true darkness.” “So, let me get this right, instead of screaming like a bloody banshee you’re wanting to make a deal with a man who you just saw kill another man?” Kol asked her with a smile on his face, clearly amused by her. “You keep proving yourself to be a far more intriguing creature than this simple-minded townsfolk could ever understand.” “I want you to teach me everything that you know to mold me into your perfect prodigy and truly embrace the darkness beneath my surface,” Darla demanded from the Mikaelson man. “I’ve had but a taste of power and I want so much more, I believe you could lead me to true power.” “And if I do agree to make you an accomplish in my wicked deeds it would mean showing you so much more than the limits of this small town, diving into one’s darkness should never be taken lightly,” Kol answered her, as he began genuinely contemplating Darla’s possible alliance. “If I was to say yes then you would have to truly be willing to do me one hell of a favor in return.” To get a taste of true power Darla was more than willing to do anything even help Kol Mikaelson in his mission to take his brother Klaus out once and for all, Kol being determined to be free from his older brother’s ruthless rules, but as these two new friends were about to learn, Klaus Mikaelson was not someone to underestimate, a lesson his own brother Kol should have already learned.

Darla Petrova came from an especially important bloodline being a descendent of the original doppelganger Tatia and the ancestor of doppelganger turned vampire Katerina, history would prove she was much more like the latter but one thing all three Petrova women had in common was they all became victims to the Mikaelson family. Tatia Petrova was a grieving Viking widow who defied death despite it being custom for her to kill herself following her husband’s death and instead moved to a magical town called Mystic Falls where she found love again with Elijah Mikaelson only for death to catch up to her as she was killed by a newly turned Elijah. Katerina Petrova found herself in trouble long before meeting Klaus Mikaelson, but she found more trouble afterward as she narrowly avoided being sacrificed by turning herself into a vampire and then lived an undead life on the run from Klaus for 500 years until she fell at the hands of her love Stefan Salvatore. Darla’s story began with her foolishly putting all her trust in Kol Mikaelson, under the belief she would leave Pierlot with her new friend and that he would show her a world that before she could only but imagine but sadly the truth to her story was a far grimmer fate for the self-made traveler turned small-town madame as the once-abandoned child find herself once again completely and utterly alone, this time only having one man to blame, Niklaus Mikaelson.

Late one night Darla awoke from her slumber to find her house eerily quiet, the sound of silence being something rarely heard within a house filled with beautiful women and their many clients, and so Darla climbed out of her bed eager to investigate the disturbing peace, leaving her room and making her way downstairs, and then into the living room, only to unwittingly walk into the most horrifying scene she had ever witnessed. “No!” She screamed in a fit of disbelief and horror as she looked around her blood-soaked and stained living room to find the women, she loved like sisters spread across the floor and the living room furniture brutally murdered. “It never ceases to delight me that people are still shocked to discover that crossing me is something one should never do.” Klaus declared after vamp speeding into the room, the blood of his victims on his clothes, his victims being the murdered women laid before him and Darla. “And yet there are still fools like you who continue to side with my idiotic brother Kol, had you sided with me I may have granted you a promise that only I could fulfill, but instead you chose to come for me, and now your whores are dead but do not worry because you will soon be joining them.” “But it has been days.” Darla cried as she struggled to take her eyes off the gruesome scene before her, realizing at that moment that the women she had promised to protect had died under her roof because of her actions, her longing for more, wishing at that moment that she had just stayed happy with what she once had, knowing now that it was all gone. “Kol’s always making a move on me I’d be a fool not to say compel a working woman or several of them under the very same roof he frequently visits to keep a willing ear and a spying eye on his movements,” Klaus admitted with a great sense of pride over unmasking Kol and Darla’s plotting against him. Without so much as a chance to plead for her life or beg for mercy, Klaus vamp sped over to the traveler, grabbed a hold of her neck with both hands, and with full force, instantly snapped her neck, before throwing her lifeless body to the ground. “Forgive me Tatia but the blood of your blood was too idiotic to be granted another day of breathing.” Klaus sarcastically mumbled to himself, unapologetically apologizing for murdering somebody of Tatia’s bloodline, not that it bothered him in the slightest. However, unbeknownst to Klaus he was not taking out an enemy like he had thought but had instead awakened a new, far more powerful enemy. Darla Petrova died that day, however since making her deal with Kol Mikaelson she had been drinking vials of his blood as insurance to give her some security while they plotted against Klaus and although none of their plans came to fruition, the vampire blood in her system brought Darla back from the dead so to speak. A secret Klaus or any other of the Mikaelson family would not find out for many centuries to come, Darla being far too smart to let them know she was still among them, plotting away as she set out to prove that a Petrova scorned was a far deadlier creature than a meddling Mikaelson.

[bestylist]

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Copyright 2020 © UX Themes

[miojolovetodo]

Reincarnation AU

BASICS

Name:  Eloi Shou Aikyo

Name Meaning: Eloi: (The Chosen), Shou: (Soar), Aikyo: (Love/Respect)

Alias/Nickname:

Age: 7-17

Date of Birth: December 4, 4PM

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Bloodtype: O

Gender: Male

Sexual Preference: Greysexual

Species/Race: Human

Occupation:

Alignment: Neutral

Languages Spoken: English, Spanish, Japanese

Current Relationship Status: Unknown

Pet: Rat Terrier named Chestnut

APPEARANCE

Height: 5′6″

Weight:  111

Body Type: Thin, Defined

Eye Color: Emerald Green

Hair Color and Style: Black, short and choppy

Distinguishing Marks (tattoos, scars, etc): Slitted pupils, Large iris’, birth marks forming the shape of the number four on his left shoulder next to a patch of discolored skin that slits across his heart.

Birth Defects: Partially deaf/ blind.

Clean Shaven, Stubble, Rugged: Clean Shaven

Usual Clothing Style: Grunge, Emo/Goth, Baggy or sleek and clean,

Wearing Currently:  a baggy grey hoodie, somewhat tight deep blue t-shirt, tight fitting black jeans, green themed sneakers.

PERSONALITY

Hobbies:

Personality: Relaxed, Intuitive, Strong, Thorough, Neat, Orderly, Contemplative, Fair, Tolerant, Meticulous, Insightful, Private, Strict, Impassive, Unaggressive, Stubborn, Quiet, Unambitious, Invisible, Surprising, Undemanding, Casual, Self centered, Unemotional, Pedantic, Insulting, Inconsiderate, Cruel, Dull, Regimental, Misguided, Condemnatory, Amoral  

Quirks/Habits:  

Illness/Allergies: Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Low Empathy, PTSD

Outlook: -

Likes:  

Dislikes: -

Usual Demeanor:  Usually mellow and laid back, almost to the point of apathetic, indifferent and emotionless.

Quick to Anger or Difficult to Anger:  Difficult to anger.

Easily Approachable or Not So Much: Not particularly. Most people imagine that he doesn’t like them because of his demeanor to begin with. Whether he does or not, he let’s things happen as they happen.

Introvert or Extrovert:  Introvert

PAST

Describe your characters History/Background:

After Ulquiorra is reborn, he is reborn into a moderately well off family. He however spends most of his life not getting the love an affection a child would need to adjust as normally to the world. His mother and father spent much of their time at work and would often tend to their son, Shou’s needs by buying him things or hiring help to take care of him.  Growing up this way has made him a little more than just a bit narcissistic. Though he is often quiet and contemplative more than outwardly concerned with the others around him directly. Even as a small child this had made many children find him to be strange. However this did not prevent Shou from finding friends, of course.

As a high school student Shou attends school at Karakura, which is quite a bit away from where he was born. His parents having moved there residents there when he had turned twelve. After moving there Shou found it a bit harder to make friends with most of the students who had already known each other for some time. Over the next few years Shou grew more into himself and embraced his more narcissistic tendencies. It often tends to show him as being an asshole to most people, and in most peoples opinions. (Work In Progress)

Hometown:  Unknown, Spain

Childhood trauma: Watched a child that was his age die by Hollow attack when they were only the first years of grade school. This happening on a school day in the middle of recess.

Parents/Siblings:  Unknown

How events shaped their outlook on life: After the incident that happened in his childhood most students from that year were for the most part traumatized by what they had seen. Eloi’s reaction and little empathy had made him stand out and easy imagined as a ‘freak’ to the rest of his peers however.

MISCELLANEOUS

Do  they know their heritage well? If so, does it resonate with their personality? (Ex. A viking having a brash and impulsive, violent personality):  Not very well at all really.

Powers:  Void [ This ability is one he developed entirely independent of his former life, but rather that of his new one., Ulquiorra’s Powers [Powers he will regain in time/Once he awakens his past life.]

Weapons:  Murcielago in the form of a Nodachi

MBTI:  ISTJ-A

Enneagram: 1w9, The Reformer, The Peacemaker

Element: Earth/Darkness

Temperament: Phlegmatic-Choleric

Aptitude:  Candor or Erudite

District:  4

Harry Potter: Slytherin, Wampus, Black Mamba

Talents:  

Social Standing:  Moderately Average Wealth

Verses In This AU