#really trying to capitalize off of post wedding feelings for this one

[waitimcomingtoo]

Sweet Nothing

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: you and Peeta have an honest conversation after he defends Gale at the whipping post

You looked over your shoulder when you heard your front door open and saw Peeta with a loaf of bread. He saw that your hand was on Gales back and his jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Hey, Peet.” You said through a yawn. He blushed at the nickname as he walked further into your house.

“Hey. Have you been there all night?”

“Yeah. In case he woke up.” You yawned again and nodded towards Gale.

“Did he?”

“No. He’s still pretty knocked out from whatever Prim gave him.”

“You should go get some sleep. I’ll stay with him.” Peeta offered as he set the bread down.

“No. It’s okay. I won’t make you do that.” You smiled awkwardly, knowing that was probably the last thing Peeta wanted to do.

“You’re not making me do anything. Go on. Get some rest.” Peeta gently urged you. You gave Gale another look and decided he’d be fine without you for a little while.

“Okay. Thank you.” You said as you stood up. You stepped forward and sleepily wrapped your arms around Peeta. He was surprised at first but soon wrapped his arms around you. You yawned against his shoulder before resting your cheek on it and closing your eyes. Peeta smiled to himself and gently swayed with you to let you get a moment of rest.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I don’t think you should sleep standing up.” He said into your ear. You sighed and let go of him before going to your room. Peeta watched you leaved before occupying the seat you had just been in. He could still feel the warmth you left and longed for time when that wasn’t the only intimacy the two of you shared. He let you sleep for a few hours before deciding to bring you some water. He went into your room with a glass just as you were waking up.

“Hey. How’d you sleep?” He smiled softly and sat on your bed.

“I slept okay.” You shrugged. “Thanks for giving me a break.”

“Of course. We both know you’d never ask for one, but I could tell you needed it.” Peeta smiled teasingly as he handed you the glass of water. You gratefully accepted before downing the glass.

“You’re a good guy, Peeta.” You sighed as you put your cup down. The finality in your voice clued Peeta in that you had made some sort of decision between Gale’s whipping and now.

“But not the right guy, huh?” He smiled sadly. There was no self pity in his voice, which made your heart ache as you stared at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t always know what you’re thinking. But I can tell something about Gale is giving you serious guilt about your fake relationship with me.” Peeta said, making your stomach drop at how well he could read you.

“I think he kinda assumed he and I were something before I went off to the games. But I don’t know if we are. I know he wants a wife and kids. And I know I’m not ready for that yet.” You admitted without looking at Peeta.

“Do you think you’ll be ready for it one day?”

“Maybe. If I ever truly believed the world was safe enough for kids to be in.”

“What about marriage?” He asked softly.

“Well I’m already engaged, aren’t I?” You laughed dryly, knowing your fake wedding was mere days away. Peeta didn’t share your laughter and instead looked gutted at the reminder of the wedding. Your smile fell as well and you looked down again.

“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t how you wanted things to happen.” You said as you played with your fingers.

“How do you know that?” Peeta asked and it was his turn for his stomach to drop.

“Haymitch told me.” You admitted as you looked up at him. Peeta gulped and stared into your eyes, knowing there was no use trying to lie to you.

“I’ll admit that I always hoped we’d get married one day out of love, not obligation to The Capital. But your brilliant mind has once again come up with a way to keep us safe. So I guess I can’t really be upset.”

“Yes you can.” You said immediately, making Peeta look confused.

“You can be upset about what I did to you in the games. I’m upset about it.” You continued as tears filled your eyes. Peeta smiled sadly and took your hand.

“You didn’t do anything to me.” Peeta assured you. “You played a part that allowed us to get out of there alive. And alive together. We never would’ve both made it home without you. I would’ve died from my leg wound and you would’ve come home with no one who ever truly understood what you went through back there.”

“I know. I just wish there was a way I could’ve let you know about the plan while it was happening. I didn’t know you weren’t playing along.” You said while avoiding his gaze. Peeta’s eyes bore into you but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“I didn’t know how much I would be hurting you when I acted the way I did in the cave. It killed me when I realized you were never pretending.” You whispered as a tear slipped down your face.

“I wouldn’t say I never was. I think we both played up our romance for the cameras, intentionally or not. But a lot of what I said to you was true. I really have pinned for you for the last 11 years.” Peeta confessed as he wiped your face with the sleeve of his shirt. You looked up at him and gave him a soft smile.

“Some of what I said was true too.”

“Really? Like what?” Peeta asked hopefully.

“Like when you said I wasn’t paying attention and I told you I was. You said it was just because you didn’t have any competition in the games. I said you don’t have much competition anywhere.”

“That can’t be true.” Peeta chuckled. “You just slept in an old chair all night long in case Gale woke up and needed something.”

“He would’ve done it for me.” You said quietly.

“I think he’d do anything for you.” Peeta laughed sadly, making you think.

“No, actually. I don’t think he would.”

“You don’t?” Peeta raised an eyebrow.

“I love Gale. He’s my best friend and provides for my family. But sometimes, and I would never admit this to him…” You trailed off and looked off into the distance as you thought of Peeta preparing to eat the nightlock berries with you.

“What is it?” Peeta asked.

“I honestly think if Gales name had been called in the reaping instead of yours, he would’ve killed me in the games if it came down to it. He would’ve let me eat the nightlock by myself or cut my throat or done something final just to get home. He’s a hunter. He isn’t a lover. He isn’t…” You trailed off again and looked down to avoid meeting Peeta’s eyes.

“He isn’t you.” You finished. Peeta’s face burned red but he kept his composure. He had a million things he wanted to say to you, but nothing came out.

“You know, you guys would probably get along if you gave it a chance.” You said to fill the silence.

“Gale and I would never get along.“ Peeta laughed as he shook his head.

“You might. You’re both from district 12. You’re the same age. You’re both stubborn. I think you’d be great friends.”

“No. We could never be friends.”

“Why not?”

“Because of you. The number one thing we have in common. We both….” Peeta trailed off and smiled sadly, and you knew exactly what he wasn’t saying. They both wanted you, so they could never get along.

“Yeah.” You said finally. “I guess you’re right.”

Peeta felt he had dropped the ball and caused the moment you were having to end. He wiped his hands off on his pants before taking one of yours to hold.

“Look, Y/n, I know romance is probably the last thing on your mind with everything else going on. But you deserve to be happy. Even if happy is with him. So I’m fine being your friend and loving you from a distance. Because even if you chose him over me, at least I’ll know that you’re loved. That’s all I could really ask for. I just want you to feel loved. So I don’t want you to feel pressured to “pick” one of us to be with. You have a million more important things to think about. But if one day you do chose, just know I’ll love you either way.”

“Peeta.” You breathed out and touched his face. He leaned into your palm before kissing the center of it. You started to lean in to kiss him when your mom entered the room.

“Oh. Sorry.” She said when she realized what was going on. “Gale is asking for you, honey.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right there.” You said without taking your eyes off Peeta.

“You should go. He needs you.” Peeta told you with his selfless smile. He got off your bed and headed for your door.

“Peeta.” You called desperately, hoping he’d stay.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? It’s almost our big day.” He winked at you before leaving. You sighed in disappointment before going to see Gale.

“Hey. How you feeling?” You asked as you sat back in your chair beside the table.

“Better now that your fiancé went home.” Gale said with a tired smile.

“Hey, my fiancé defending you at the whipping post and stayed with you while I slept.” You defended Peeta in a calm, gentle tone.

“Don’t act like he’s some saint. He just wanted some points with you.” Gale brushed it off, making you frown.

“He isn’t like that, Gale. He doesn’t do things for praise or attention. He does things because he’s selfless and kind.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize he meant so much to you.” Gale mumbled. He was starting to get on your nerves in a way he usually didn’t.

“He saved my life. So yes, he does.” You said simply.

“Come on.” Gale laughed humorously. “Don’t tell me you actually have feelings for the guy. He’s a baker. A nobody. He got hurt in the games and painted his face until you came along to save him. He can’t protect you. And he definitely can’t provide for you. Unless you think you can survive on cupcakes and cookies for a living.”

You sat back in your seat and gave Gale a blank stare. You wanted to say “I can’t protect myself. I can provide for myself”, but you bit your tongue. You let it slide since he was just waking up from his pain medication but it bothered you that he didn’t think you were self sufficient. You thought back to your conversation with Peeta from just moments ago and how he called your mind brilliant. You smiled at the memory before looking at Gale again.

“Would you be upset with me if I ended up with him? You asked quietly.

“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “You’re never going to end up with that guy.”

“But would you still be my friend if I did?”

“I don’t see how I possibly could.” Gale said like it was obvious. He had given you the opposite answer Peeta had and it made you think. Gale didn’t care if you ended up loved. He only cared if you ended up with him.

“Right.” You smiled tightly and looked down.

“Why are you asking me this anyway? Isn’t your love for him just a lie for The Capital?”

In that moment, it had never been clearer to you that no, it wasn’t a lie. Your love for Peeta was real. Gale could offer you a fire that already burned within you, but Peeta wasn’t fire. Peeta was the sun. He was a dandelion in the springtime. He was rebirth, new beginnings, and an old friends all at once. He had nothing to offer you but unconditional, unasking, and unselfish love. You needed to be with him immediately and got up out of your chair.

“I have to go.” You said and ran out your front door. You ran all the way to Peeta’s house and pounded on his door. Peeta opened it in no time and looked surprised when he saw you.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Peeta asked. You answered by throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him. Peeta’s eyes flew open in surprise before fluttering shut. He wrapped and arm around your waist and walked backwards without ever breaking the kiss. Once you were inside his house, you deepened the kiss until you needed to pull away for air.

“What’s happening? Are the cameras here?” Peeta whispered as he stared into your eyes. It mad you sad that he thought you were only kissing him because there were cameras around so you shook your head.

“No. I just realized something.”

“What’s that?”

“That if I’m gonna be on this train for the rest of my life, there’s no one else I’d rather be on it with.” You said as you brushed your thumb against his cheek. It took Peeta a minute to process what you were saying but when he did, he smiled.

“Can you please say it? Even if it’s just this once?” He whispered with desperation heavy in his voice. You smiled and cupped his face so you could bring his forehead closer to press against yours.

“Peeta Mellark, I fear I’ve fallen helplessly in love with you.” You said as stared into his eyes. Peeta broke out into the biggest grin you’d ever seen on him before scooping you up and spinning you around. He pressed a million kisses to your cheek before setting you down.

“That’s all I ever wanted to hear.”

[somelazyassartist]

To go with my last post about Thistle acting capital-W Weird™ around Laios, it really does make perfect sense when you think about their history from Thistle's perspective instead of through Laios' like we actually see.

Imagine being Thistle, and you're like, I don't know, 14, and you're the royal court jester and adoptive son of your King. And you just got a baby brother and you're so excited about it. It is, without doubt, the happiest day of your life so far. While you're celebrating a few of your family's servants and guards come in to help. One seems somewhat confused about the situation but you probably assume he's just a new hire, it makes sense to bring in added security when there's a new prince around. You don't see this knight again anytime afterwards, but you're not exactly in charge of hiring or firing guards, so it's not really any of your business where he wandered off to.

You are Thistle, and you're now probably around 40 or so, still rather young for an Elf but a fine young man nonetheless. You're all dressed up to the nines and eager to perform your newest flute composition in honor of your little brother's wedding, and you're so, so proud of how far he's come. You helped your father raise him well. And just as the ceremony's about to kick up, and the people are starting to get drunk and make merry and dance, the King, your father, collapses. Poison, assassination, you hear people cry out. But as you run towards him you slam right into one of your guards- and have the extremely fleeting thought of "WAS that one of our guards? I haven't seen them around but they seem so familiar somehow"- but as soon as the thought occurs you're snapped right back into the present, and the fact that your father was murdered right in front of your eyes, and that you couldn't do a thing to stop it.

It's been a small time now, enough that you've had time to lay your King to rest, and to prepare your brother for the throne. It's his coronation day. You should be happy- you are PROUD, of course, of how far your little brother has come- but it is not the joyous day that you would have hoped for, and instead one of mourning for you. And looking around the room as the Kingdom's crown changes bearers, you see a guard, rather out of place. And this time, you have time to process why he feels so strange here. You've seen this man before. You KNOW you've seen this man before. This is the man who you have seen exclusively on the best day of your life and the worst, with no trace of him elsewhere in your life, and he is here, now, again. And for one who is clearly a Tallman, he hasn't aged a single day. There is something wrong with him, and with you, and you feel that if you keep crossing paths it will only end in disaster for you. So you try to kill him. And he disappears, right in front of your eyes. You don't see him around after this. You pray you never will again.

You are now The Mad Sorcerer- no longer, even, the false name given to you by your King. Only the title used by those who want to kill you remains in people's minds. It's been so long now. You can't even count how many years it's been, but you know your life has reached centuries upon centuries past what you were meant to live. And so has everyone you've ever cared about. In these years you have done everything you can to preserve the last bit of what you can call home, trapping yourself and your entire kingdom in an oasis of immortality. So what if the people may grow to resent you? You're protecting them. It's not your fault people may mistake your kindness for cruelty. Though many adventuring parties have tried, none have gotten through your defenses, so as long as you keep focused on your goal things will be fine. Except for this last week or so, where one particularly troublesome party has been making their way further than most would dare venture. And you swear on your Kingdom's throne, if this party includes who you think it includes, you are going to have a fucking aneurysm.

You are the Lord of this Dungeon, and unfortunately for you, your house has just been broken into. Even more unfortunately for you, you know exactly who did it. When you step through your front door, everything is unsettlingly clean. You wonder why in the world the man following you for your entire life would take the time to tidy your house if he's here to psychologically torture you. And then a thought hits you like a punch to the gut, and you rush upstairs, and you see all of your diaries taken out of their hiding spots. And you know that if they took a look through them they would find roughly 200 pages of glittery pink gel pen writing out repeatedly,

✨ This motherfucker again ✨

[sdr2lovemail]

Hello, could I request Mitsuri x reader headcanons?

A little backstory: It's a modern au where reader is the sister of the clones. She's dating Mitsuri and Zohakuten doesn't approve. Like that's his big sister get away from her! Zohakuten probably give Mitsuri such a hard time when he's around.

Zohakuten wants Mitsuri out of your life (FEM Reader)

Synopsis: Zohakuten hates your girlfriend and is very open about it.

Notes: I love Mitsuri and I love Zohakuten, thank you for requesting this. Double posting, I felt inspired by this ask.

Requests are open!

Mitsuri would be ecstatic. Pacing around, anticipating your younger brother getting home. She wants to make a good impression. She loves you so much and wants your brother to approve of her.

You try to get her to lower her expectations. “Uhh, I wouldn’t be too excited. Zohakuten isn’t the most… friendly.” 

As if summoned by his name, Zohakuten walks into the room. His usual scowl seems to deepen upon seeing Mitsuri. “Who is that.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

Before you could introduce her, Mitsuri bounds up to the boy. She offers her hand with a wide smile. “I’m Mitsuri Kanroji, your sister’s girlfriend. You must be Zohakuten. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Ignoring her hand, Zohakuten is silent as he glares at her. His brow furrowed with anger. Though, his expression doesn’t daunt Mitsuri. She instead grabs something out of her bag.

“I brought you a gift! It’s the latest copy of Jump. My brother loves it.” She offers him the manga, hoping he will like it.

“I hate that magazine. Don’t think you can sway my judgment with pointless entertainment.” With that, Zohakuten stomps to his room, ignoring your reprimands, leaving you to comfort Mitsuri.

The two of you had a rather rough childhood. Your brothers moved out the second they could, and your father had the tendency to just up and leave, which left you to raise Zohakuten pretty much on your own.

He’s always been a closed-off kid, protective of those he loves and quick to anger. He hates others trying to get in his space. You were the only family member he had around. He didn’t want a stranger ruining his normalcy.

Zohakuten tells that to her face, of course. “You are just a shameless harlot trying to seduce my sister. You’ll never be a part of my family.”

No matter how much you reprimand him or put him on punishment, his feelings hardly change. Mitsuri would try everything to get him to like her. She’d offer gifts like sweets and games, try to bond with him, anything to try and get to know him. But her efforts are met with the presents being trashed and mean words.

He goes out of his way to make Mitsuri feel unwelcome.

One time, Mitsuri had come over for dinner. Zohakuten had set the table with only two plates. When you asked him to set another out, he said you shouldn’t waste your money feeding her. After getting scolded, he would get a plate for Mitsuri, with as much attitude as possible.

Mitsuri will eventually learn that this is just how he is. No amount of presents, food, or small talk can get him to like her. Though, she’ll still offer him things.

I can see Zohakuten capitalizing on your love for him. You wanna hang out with Mitsuri? Well, his stomach hurts and he needs you to help him feel better. You and Mitsuri are snuggling in bed? Zohakuten had a nightmare and wants to sleep in your bed tonight. 

Your four other brothers might take him off your hands if they could be bothered to. It’s Aizetsu who watches him the most. He feels bad that Zohakuten keeps meddling in your love life.

Give him a few years, and he will grow to tolerate Mitsuri, nothing past that. He’ll start taking her presents and not try and lock her out of the house. Zohakuten will always carry a sense of resentment. You’ll be at your wedding and he’ll pull you aside to ask if this is really what you want. “The papers haven’t been signed you can still leave.”

[doxypsychlean]

Hello, recently found your tumblr and I really love the way you write!! I have a request for Aegon being betrothed to someone a bit older (late 20s/early 30s) and therefore wouldn't be afraid to stand up for herself and wouldn't take his shit - but at the same time being a nurturing person. This combined with Aegons mommy-issues would just be a divine dynamic that I would love to read!

Oof, sorry for taking this long to post it! Hope ye like it:)

Wisdom

Aegon II Targaryen x Older!Reader

Headcanons

Warnings: mention of childbirth

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

Alicent was against it from the very beginning. You were much older than her son. She'd heard all the tales,all the rumors about the monster you were. She believed them, there was no other rational explanation as to why you, a woman of noble descent, hadn't taken a man to marry. But there was nothing she could do. The King had made his decision.

Now that your father was gone from the world, you had taken over as Lady of the Eyrie and Warden of the East.

You were a strong, fierce woman and an excellent fighter.

Why you'd stayed alone for so long, no one could tell.

No one, except you. You'd spent your entire life fighting to secure your claim, so what was rightfully yours wouldn't be taken away from you.

It'd been long since the people had started spreading rumors about you being barren, some kind of a monster, even a man...

You paid them no mind. You knew why they did it. They wanted answers. They had none. So they created their own versions of your story.

You knew what you wanted- power.

Going against the Crown wasn't a safe, nor a wise choice. Though the prospect made you feel less than excited, you knew the next best thing was getting to the damned iron chair through marriage. But to whom...

You received a letter from your king not long after you'd put your father in the ground.

Viserys had heard enough about you. He couldn't afford a rebellion. Not now. So he'd decided you might as well join the royal family.

You didn't even bother with sending a letter back, but instead gathered your most trusted men and headed for the capital.

The Prince was confused. There were no horns and hooves, no spiked tongue, no tail. You were actually quite the beauty, if he had to be honest.

He tried to be smug about it, chest puffed out and all. He truly did.

Except you didn't blush or try to hide your face when he approached you, like most girls did. You weren't some clueless girl, but a woman grown.

"Don't test your luck, boy. You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"I- Well...I-"

He turned into a blushing mess, walking away with his head hanging in defeat.

Aegon had never met anyone like you before.

From that moment on, all he could think about was you.

Soon after the wedding, his mother stopped nagging him.

Scratch that, she avoided him like hell for a while.

Well, the prince also stopped giving her reasons to do so.

The first time he came back home drunk, you sat him down. After one long,long talk in which you explained how you won't stand around and watch him drink himself into an early grave, you sent the prince out of your shared quarters, so he could think about what he'd done.

Yep, he never made that mistake ever again. You made sure of it.

Your feelings for the young man grew with time.

He never left your side for too long, always trailing close behind.

You'd started giving him lessons in politics.

He couldn't deny it, you had experience in ruling.

As well as other departments.

Whenever in doubt, Aegon would run straight to you.

"I can't do it. I'll be the worst king there ever was or ever will be..."

"Not with me around, you won't."

On one particular night, the prince dragged his feet into your bedroom, tears streaming down his face.

You were quick to jump from the bed and take him in your arms.

In a fit of rage, his mother had screamed at him how the only thing you cared for was the Iron Throne and how he was the only one that didn't see it. How you'd toss him to the side the moment he becomes King, for then you'd have what you've always wanted.

Aegon asked you if what his mother had said was true, his voice faltering.

You confessed your love for him that night, your hands wiping at his tears as he held onto you tight.

Not long after, you had to call the Grand Maester to your chambers.

To say you were scared would be an understatement.

You weren't sure if your body could handle it. Maybe ten or fifteen years ago, sure. But now...Most women your age had two or three by now. You weren't old, but you also weren't stupid. You knew how wrong something like this could go.

You'd started considering getting rid of the child that was growing inside you.

And who could blame you? A self-made woman like you to succumb to childbirth would be unthinkable. After all you've done, you couldn't allow yourself to go in such a ridiculous way.

After a few days of contemplating on your side, the Grand Maester's presence was requested to your chambers once more.

"Princess, are you sure? The Prince Aegon-"

"Prince Aegon cannot and will not know about any of this."

The old man nodded, agreeing to keep his mouth shut.

Or so you thought.

That same night, instead of him arriving with your cup of moon tea, it was your husband.

The small teacup Aegon held in hands was shaking uncontrollably, threatening to spill everywhere.

He placed it on the table and stormed out without saying a word.

You were left there to make your choice. He knew he couldn't stop you. It was up to you to decide.

On the next morning you found him in the training grounds, the straw dummy he was swinging at almost completely torn in half.

"I have faced many a foe in battle. I have risked my life more than once, Aegon. And yet, I am not as brave as people make me out to be...I am afraid."

"Then let me be there for you, just like you've been for me."

The boy you'd given birth to months later was a carbon copy of you. He had the same hair, the same nose, the same smile.

The only thing that he didn't get from you were his eyes. They were the same shade of crystal blue as those of his father.

[triviareads]

ARC Review of Marriage and Masti by Nisha Sharma

Rating: 4/5 Heat Level: 3.5/5 Pub Date: August 27th

Premise:

A Twelfth Night-inspired romcom; Veera Mathur drunkenly marries her friend and crush Deepak Datta, and they agree to stay married as platonic friends until they meet their respective career goals.

My review:

Nisha Sharma finished her If Shakespeare Were An Auntie series strong with a friends-to-lovers romance done RIGHT. It has the perfect amount of pining and angst without veering into pathetic territory, and the way Deepak and Veera's romance develops post-marriage feels so natural and QUITE swoony.

Veera's in a bad place after being forced out of her family business by her own dad before they merge with Deepak's company. She's aimless and trying to raise capital with her twin sister for their next venture when she's yacht-wrecked in Goa. Enter Deepak, who was juuuuust dumped by his influencer fiancée via "get-ready-with-me" video (I did laugh; THERE'S your "com" in the romcom) and he rescues Veera, except they have a few too many and wake up married the next morning.

Here's the thing: Veera and Deepak have a history. Their friend groups merged a couple years back and they really hit it off, something we see via flashback text message conversations (similar to Tastes Like Shakkar which I loved), and you really see how Veera developed feelings for Deepak, as well as her hurt when she found out Deepak was engaged to someone else without telling her. Somewhere along the way, probably after his engagement, Deepak realizes he has feelings for Veera too and he takes the opportunity to play the long game after their accidental marriage. I like how neither Deepak nor Veera are in a place where they're like, super tragic about their love being unrequited which is how a lot of friends-to-lovers romances don't end up working for me. They never take it out on the other person, and though Veera especially hesitates even after they have sex and Deepak has kind of made his feelings known, it doesn't feel contrived.

I think Indian weddings are seen both in India and abroad as this enormous to-do (if recent events are any indication) and sort of the be-all-end-all, but there is so much more to a marriage than the wedding. And because Veera and Deepak basically elope, we don't get the wedding and instead, we see all these lovely, meaningful post-marriage Indian (specifically Hindu-Punjabi) traditions like the Aunties blessing their home and the Grihapravesha pooja to welcome Veera to Deepak's family home. And some of these moments are so so romantic— I DIED when Deepak pleats Veera's dupatta and helps her with her baliyan earrings before their wedding reception, and the way they observe, but also subvert the patriarchal tradition of Karva Chauth (where married women fast for their husband's well-being) in such a sweet way.

A couple other things worth noting— there is a lot of boardroom drama; the plot is centered around Deepak getting enough votes to become CEO, and Veera finding closure and moving forward after being shunted out of her family's company by her own dad. And a part of that, interestingly, is going no-contact with a family member, something that is still looked down upon in =South Asian communities, but I appreciate the nuanced way it was handled in this book, and by the end, you can see Veera is 100% valid for doing what she does. I also liked how the story deals with Veera feeling like the odd one out after both her friends coupled off which is very relatable.

The sex:

Deepak has strong "don't worry baby I'll take care of you" energy and I have to say, I'm a fan. It starts off strong with a sleepy sex moment (HOT; I love when two characters are just too exhausted to not give into their impulses), but my favorite scene is definitely before their belated wedding reception, and Veera is feeling anxious so she asks for "stress relief"— Obviously Deepak is more than happy to oblige, and there are so many details I loved, like the chime of her anklets against his back, and the way her lehenga is half off and exposing her partially. Again, Nisha Sharma is doing the most to eroticize Indian clothes and jewelry and I'm HERE for it.

There's also this mild brat/bossy dynamic which kind of peaks when Veera and Deepak go all the way the first time. It was surprising in a good way, and I just wish Nisha had expanded on it some more.

Overall:

Look, it's hard to find South Asian romances with this level of heat (and believe me, I've looked) and Nisha Sharma did a great job of interweaving the romance and culture in a really lovely way that I'd recommend to anyone looking for a romcom-esque romance novel.

Thank you to Avon Books and NetGalley for the advanced copy in exchange for my honest review.

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

Gimme directors commentary for Two Liars Lying To Eachother please!

its been a while since ive thought about this fic in any capacity lksajdaskdfld lets see if it still holds up! directors commentary for chapter 1, i'll be doing the others separately later :D

Each of his hands was cuffed to one of the table's legs, somewhat restraining his motion. He hated it; he preferred being able to fidget.

autism edgar but this also isnt the sort of autism i tend to see him as having? idk the idea of edgar stimming is very weird to me

That was a somewhat good sign. He took another glance at the large, mirrored wall of the room, which he had no illusions was reflective on the other side. The only question was whether anyone was in the viewing room to catch his knowing glances.

theres an XKCD about how fun it is to occasionally announce "i know you're listening" to an empty room, because if you're wrong nobody will ever know and if you're right it will freak the HELL out of them. thats basically what Mustardseed is doing here.

According to Michael, he had traded himself in to the compound in exchange for catching Mustardseed - for catching me, Edgar thought, smiling faintly.

seamless exposition, me. i had to establish that this Edgar was Mustardseed, but the narration is roughly tied to his view of things, and Mustardseed doesn't think of himself as Mustardseed, just as Edgar, so the narration couldn't call him Mustardseed.

The door swung open and in came Ty Betteridge. He was a few years older than the last time Edgar had seen him, back when he'd killed him inside of Tier Two on the night Base was formed,

...wasn't that Hunter? or did it become Edgar that killed young!Ty in the post-72 timeline? i am confuse

Well, I appreciate making me feel like a criminal after you plucked me out of the middle of my normal day.

hes so bitchy and for what?

If you're worried about unpredictability, why does the cowboy get to roam free? He's been rather hard to keep under control, in my experience.

i wanted to make it clear just how bitter Edgar is towards all members of Base, so of course five seconds into this conversation he tries to fuck Michael over

Ty's grin was somewhat predatory.

this fic is 90% me looking for different ways to describe smiles. Ty and Mustardseed are both very smiley.

They called you OVEdgaR,

i think im the only person who capitalizes ovedgar that way

"With my husband, yeah." Edgar smiled and raised his left hand to show off the simple wedding band. "Mm. Congrats. Mike told me he wasn't married to you, how odd."

I FORGOT HOW DISMISSIVE TY SOUNDED HERE. he cares of course but

Base Mike and Edgar aren't married.

i try to be very precise about the names characters use for each other, because i think its a very quick way to characterize relationships. Mustardseed always refers to them as "Base Mike" and "Base Edgar", while Ty refers to them as just Mike and Edgar, or possibly Mikey and Edgar, depending on context.

"Hm. You're much less trouble than the Mikes; each one of them ties so much into their name. It's a little exhausting keeping track of them, to be honest." "Well, I never really had trouble with it, but I suppose it is easier if you care about him." Edgar smiled like he hadn't just thrown out the barb. Ty laughed. "I care about Mike Walters more than you can imagine, Panther." Ty grinned, waiting to see if Edgar would respond to the pet name. Edgar kept his face neutral and pleasant.

Edgar definitely won that exchange :P its important to me that Edgar feels like he's in control of the conversation even though he very clearly isnt in control of the situation, because that's the vibe he gave off in ep 84.

Moving on… you established a campaign of terror against Mike's base in an attempt to free yourself and your… husband… from their control. Is that right?

Ty is reading these questions off his clipboard and the prompt on it didnt say "husband," it said "OVER Mike." HOWEVER the pause before saying it was something Ty probably did deliberately to keep up his veneer of indifference.

"I'd rather not put Michael through any more undue stress. He's had a hard couple of days, especially with all the strain you've been putting on him."

this is so funny to me, because it IS another barb, but its also sort of Ty trying to guilt-trip Edgar like thats gonna work??? :P

I have a lot of sympathy for Michael too, but as far as I know, he's never had anyone threaten him at gunpoint to stay in Base.

i'll be honest, he probably has. Michael's seen some shit

"I am sorry for your situation, Edgar, I really am. But you do keep pulling me away from the questions, and the sooner we get these done, the sooner we can get you out of those cuffs and moved to your quarters."

this is a very Ty Betteridge thing to say. like yeah, im sorry that YOU keep delaying me from getting you comfortable. hes so...

So he was listening when Michael and I were talking.

reading it back, i feel like i didnt give the audience enough credit. they probably could have picked up on these little jabs and maneuvering tactics without me having to point them out. anyway yes, ty is doing this interview only half for actual information gathering reasons, the other half is just to waste edgars time as a form of basic psychological warfare

Your Base may be rudimentary, but I believe that you are a smart man, Edgar.

i keep pointing out the little jabs and not having much to say about them, but theyre still so good to me. "i know all your friends are stupid but i didnt think you were too"

"Sometimes smart people do dumb things in the heat of passion." "And is that the only reason you made those thirty-two duplicates?" "It's the only reason I'm going to be telling you."

i'll be honest, i have no idea what i was hinting at here. i think canon at one point suggested there might have been an ulterior motive to the Mustardseed escapees, but i didn't make any sort of plan for what that might be. if i had to retroactively justify it, i'd say Mustardseed's future scouting told him that the escapees would be consolidated into MW, and that MW's existence was important to his plans somehow.

"I've got all day, Ty." Edgar smiled across the table, a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

i just ctrl+f'ed and the word "smile" appears 7 times in this 1k word chapter.

[pinkremedy2515]

Recap and present intro

I’m in junior year now, and i just went back and read all my previous posts, a measly 7 by the way. Apparently they’re from 2022 and onwards if i inferred correctly. Which mean it hasn’t even been that long, huh.

I decided to be just a little more organized about the posts now because i almost had an aneurysm trying to read the last one. That’s almost a year and a half old, huh…

So quick recap of what you, the grateful inquisitive audience, missed; 1. I did my o levels,

2. discovered i was moving from the city i grew up in for my whole life,

3. went on summer vacation,

4. dyed half of my hair hot pink in a show of teenage impulsivity (although it was a thorough meticulous decision),

5. got all A*s on my o levels, missed a rank by 5 marks (or was that 7 marks…)

6. Got stuck in my home city and delayed the move because my dad’s employer decided to be an ass about my dad moving,

7. finally moved in the September of 2023, and moved to the capital city of my country from my beachside home city ( I know it sounds all Hollywood having to move in the middle of high school especially into the ‘BIG CITY’ but i was far from ‘a fish out of water’ I just hate this place)

8. Moved into a small ass apartment, that is a fraction of the size of our previous house, and my room is as small as it is legally allowed to make a bedroom (i know because I searched it up) while my older sister gets to have a much larger room with a balcony too because i lost a coin toss that i suggested to conduct.

9. Broke off a friendship that was nearly a decade old, and really I don’t even know what to make of it

10. almost instantly made friends with the girls in my new class, and made almost all the teachers hate me within the first month if I’m to wrong. This little trope suggests that i am the cool rule breaking type, but let me assure you i am not. The teachers hate me for no good reason, but it doesn’t really matter cause they fucking suck too and i hate them just as much if not more. Although I am in the stem subjects (bio, chem, physics and math) and my science head hates me so I don’t really feel the best about her having direct control of my gpa, but what can a girl do

11. Almost forgot, i went to my cousins wedding halfway across the world, spent buckets of money on the tickets and the dresses cause it was during Christmas, only to look god damn hideous because only divine intervention can help me look anything above perfectly mediocre and average,

12. And ive lost all hope and motivation for my as level, because due to the above mentioned vacation I ended up missing a shit tonne of the syllabus being taught and the teachers didn’t like me enough to reteach me the bits i missed, so i had to haul my ass all the way through my mocks, which i barely passed, and all the way to where i am now.

13. Turned 17 about 2 and a half weeks ago and felt nothing but despair for having reached that age, not because its almost as cliche as 16 but rather because I don’t look forward to the future anymore

SO HERE WE ARE~

Present day me, who just finished bombing her math and mechanics as papers on the first week of may, and i now have exactly 3 days till the next slew of exams which involve three exams in 3 consecutive days, and i really am not as prepared as I should be but I can’t seem to find it in me to haul my ass through it because i freak out and get stressed and end up doing nothing.

I’m very different from last year in that regard, i used to be at the top of my class and aced my subjects and here i am now, barely even passing and standing at the very bottom of what used to be my academic career but is now a wide yawning chasm. I hope to not fuck up everything completely, and just get an A on my AS levels, a passing A would do as well. I really hope god up there is feeling sympathetic to a pathetic stupid teenage girl who is trying to try her best.

I’ve been raised and am at an economic level that has me comfortable but the only future for me is one i make myself; through my academics and hard work, so I am fully aware what’s at stake here but im giving up on myself. The me who fought died one day and I didn’t even have a warning. No heads up, no 2 week notice, and definitely no replacement hired. The worst bit was i spent the whole summer studying and planning to make this the best and most productive year, but all my effort lead to absolutely nothing, and it would be a lie to say my spirit I entirely crushed to smithereens and i feel that i am teetering on the brink of what might be a depressive slump.

It’s currently 2:24 am on the 11th of May as I type this, and I should either be asleep or doing the past paper thats been squished under my iPad-laptop. i might not post this just immediately so the timing probably wont add up. Although im not sure tumblr has a time format or info bit for the posts anyway, at least not from what ive seen.

I missed out on a bunch of other things that happened to me along the way, and a bunch of stuff that’s happening now. But i felt a little encouraged to post because one of my previous posts had a singular like, which may have been an accident and even if it wasn’t, that person probably wont find my blog (if you can call it that) again because they don’t follow me :// which sucks a bit but whatever. Maybe I should take the initiative and follow them… maybe i might…

Anyway ill probably conclude this essay of a post now, but one last thing, i feel the need to change the color scheme and vibe of the whole account again, so ill probably do that in the morning after i wake up and have two consecutive tutoring sessions that make me want to reap my own soul :D

Byyyyeeeee to the worlds quietest audience :)

[lululeighsworld]

🌹

send me "🌹" and i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing

As a gesture of hope, it became tradition for new couples to share a small dessert on the night of their marriage, feeding each other spoonfuls of the delicacy to signify that no matter what may come in the future, they would always be there to take care of the other.

[1kook]

A COLLECTION  [ updated: 8 . 23 . 21 ]

— STATUS ONGOING — NO REPOSTS — ASKS under #ncouple ! — Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr

—NETFLIX & CHILL.

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.  warnings smut in the forms of grinding, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla unprotected sex, dirty talk misc use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc  word count 10.2k  posted june 12, 2020

—HULU & WOOHOO.

summary But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings slight feelings of insecurity, smut in the forms of fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, riding, slight praise kink  misc if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read word count 6.3k posted july 4, 2020

—IMAX & CLIMAX.

summary The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl (? kinda), daddy kink that morphs into ily kink misc  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count 9.8k posted august 5, 2020

—KISSANIME & FOREPLAY.

summary You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings mentions of hentai, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 word count 8.2k posted september 1, 2020

—DISNEY+ & BUST.

summary There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.   warnings arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of humiliation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment (? idk lol), unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, the return of mean jk, desperate jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf misc angst, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count 13k posted september 9, 2020

—ESPN & BDSM.

summary You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.   warnings smut in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink misc kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count 12.7k posted september 14, 2020

—YOUTUBE & USE LUBE.

summary You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. warnings smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, tit fucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook misc domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3 word count 8.7k   posted september 30, 2020

—VIKI & HICKEYS.

summary Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.   warnings a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries, jk is a good boy n I want him to be happy   misc there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide word count 16.3k posted january 14, 2021

—PEACOCK & SWEET TALK.

summary “I wanna watch Solange in Bring It On,” Jungkook smiles, and you have to wonder who exactly this blond man is and what he did with your teen-movie-hating boyfriend.   warnings smut in the forms of kissing, cunnilingus (eating out + fingering), light praise, a lil body worship, jk fat cawk, brief nipple play, playful jk, unprotected sex, riding and missionary, the jk hand kink, I love you kink, jk wants nudes, jk’s cheerleader fantasies mentioned, spit kink, light choking, jk has like a scent kink (?), mention of collars and pet play misc app developer jk becomes even MORE app developer-y, oc is anti-google, there's plot, a 2 year anniversary, Solange knowles appreciation, BLOND JK!!!, gets sappy for a sec, seahorse marriage mention, doyeon x joon side pairing, jk is disgustingly dreamy and oc is threatened by that fact word count 10.7k posted march 23, 2021

— CRUNCHYROLL & RAIL.

summary Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. warnings smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… misc fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality word count 8.7k posted may 21, 2021

—FUNIMATION & PROCREATION.

summary Never mind your upcoming wedding, this was perhaps the greatest moment of your life— the day Jungkook sought out an anime on his own. warnings kissing, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, cum eating, mentions of anal, doggy style, unprotected sex with the intention of pregnancy, spitting, hand holding<3 misc the wedding night, Doyeon strikes again, jjk watches  jjk, oh no not twins word count 9.1k posted july 31, 2021

—BOOMERANG AND BANG. 

coming soon

—COOKIES & CREAM.

summary Jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy Christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (And maybe having his dick sucked.) warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, face fucking, cum facials, fingering, overstim, double orgasm, r*mantic sex, riding, unprotected, cream pies, jk does this weird thing where he licks her face yeah idk, jk loves seeing his gf cry, jk has an obsession with jizz   misc jk pov !!, eggnog slander, jk hates xmas movies, oc dresses like a sexy mrs claus, Elf !!, jk is in loooove word count 7.1k posted december 23, 2020

— TUTUS & TIARAS.

summary your first pregnancy through the lens of your husband warnings smut in the forms of penetrative sex, sex while pregnant, unprotected sex, tit play, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, sticking the tip in and jacking off/cockwarming?, creampies, nose kink (? like she grinds against his nose), infatuation with scent, frottage/grinding, lactation kink, titluvr jk [bass boosted] misc married ncouple <3, domesticity, jk pov, mood swings, pregnancy, GIRLDAD!JK, DILF!JK, pregnant!reader, jk’s kids are virgos its true  word count 10k posted august 23, 2021

— one.

summary Maybe Jungkook wasn’t always as cool and composed as you initially believed. But that’s okay, because you love him all the same.  word count 1.3k posted September 10, 2020

—two.

summary Even after all these years, all these doubts, and all this solitude that was really no one’s fault but his own, he still finds himself hoping that maybe you’ll be the one. word count 1k posted september 11, 2020

—three.

summary But Jungkook loves the sun. word count 1.5k posted september 12th, 2020

—four.

summary For the last ten minutes or so his mind has been bothered by one thing and one thing only— the hair that hung in his face. word count 800 words posted september 22, 2020

—five.

summary Startled and inexperienced, he can’t do anything but rub his hands over your back. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he murmurs, even though it’s not. word count 1.3k posted september 22, 2020

—six.

SUMMARY Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. WC 1.8k POSTED september 25, 2020

—seven.

summary And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan. word count 2k posted october 30, 2020

—eight.

summary You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same.   word count 1.9k posted december 28, 2020

—nine.

summary “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” word count 2.2k posted january 8 2021

—ten.

summary See, there’s no one in this world who ignores his house rules more than you. Even worse, there’s no one on this planet who can make Jungkook ignore his own rules like you do. word count 1.4k posted february 14, 2021

—eleven.

summary You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small. word count 1.2k posted may 3, 2021

—twelve.

summary Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. word count 1.4k posted may 8th, 2021

—thirteen.

summary Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.   word count 1k posted june 13, 2021

—fourteen.

summary Jungkook needs you to know that you can always count on him. word count 1.3k posted july 6, 2021

—fifteen.

summary It’s Jungkook’s teenage fantasy— being pushed down by a cheerleader. word count 3.1k posted august 9, 2021

— sixteen.

summary Your skin is warm and smells like sunshine. Jungkook can’t really explain it. (And also like the sunscreen you had doused him in earlier, but that isn’t as romantic.) word count 1.9K posted august 11, 2021

—seventeen.

summary She looks his way and suddenly Jungkook is nineteen again, in his dorm, listening to the first person he ever thought he loved telling him he’s too much to handle. word count 1.6k posted august 18, 2021

beautiful banners made for series!

cute and cozy gif by the lovely @ladyartemesia​ 

LASTLY: 

[lin-nin]

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 12

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a     desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it? Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer:   Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

--

Chapter 12: Called In Favors

< | Previous Chapter The weeks had blurred together once you had properly settled into your new home. Your days were spent often either reading something you found in the library that wasn't at your castle, or training with Techno. The training had been rough on you, horribly so. Bruises were blooming all over your body, especially your back. Despite getting better on your feet and with your response time to Techno, he never failed to knock you down at least a dozen times before calling it a day. It was frustrating, but definitely served to motivate you.

The boys had taken to watching you sometimes, with Tommy and Tubbo cheering you on. Wilbur would sometimes call out advice from the sidelines, and it was something you were thankful for. Beyond the training, you often met with Eret to go over wedding plans. The two of you had grown extremely close over the weeks, swapping stories as he fussed over your dress. You appreciated his friendship like no other, extremely content to have made a proper friend.

The wedding was only a couple of days away now, and you were giddily pacing around Eret. He laughed at you, moving to grab your arm to stop you. “Relax, pacing isn’t going to make them show up any sooner,” He murmured, and you couldn’t help the impatient way you twirled.

“I know. I just miss them and want them to hurry up,” You practically whined, toying with the sleeves of your dress. Dream and George were supposed to be showing up today, and staying for about a week. Excitement coursed through you the moment you had woken up, the excitement blatantly clear in your eyes.

“You miss them, don’t you?” He gave you a soft look and smile, letting go of your arm to let you pace again. 

“Always. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, but I still miss them. George is my brother, I naturally miss his guidance. Dream is my partner in crime, we’ve always been joined at the hip. I feel lost without him by my side.” You paused by the window, peering out at the courtyard. Tubbo and Tommy were squaring off, pointing swords at each other. It was always interesting to watch them fight, how seriously they could take it, swinging as if they had the intent to take a limb off each other. Only to turn around a few moments later and tackle the other and laugh, as if they weren’t practically at each other's throat. It was endearing in a sweet way.

“I see. I suppose your restlessness would make sense, then.” He wandered over to stand beside you, watching Tommy and Tubbo as well. The two swung their swords at one another, practically anticipating one another’s movements. You yearned to have the added danger of sharp objects in your training. While you did enjoy the hand-to-hand, it wasn’t nearly as exciting as what you were watching.

“Do you think Techno will let me fight with my dagger any time soon?” You mused, turning to look at Eret. He hummed, shrugging slightly.

“He’s probably going to try and make sure your hand-to-hand is nearly perfect before he lets you actively touch your dagger.” You pouted at that, huffing a little.

“That’s boring, it gets so repetitive. Not that it isn’t useful, of course it is. I was just hoping to learn to use a weapon much sooner.” You grumbled, moving away from the window. The ballroom had most of its decorations up, leading to it feeling like a completely different place. You ran your fingers along the table, tracing the grain on the wood.

“It’s good if you’re finding it repetitive. He might actually let you use your dagger soon. Ask him about it later,” Eret laughed, following behind you. As he did, you could hear Tommy yell obscenities at Tubbo, making you shake your head. Loud as ever.

“He better. Wonder if he’ll let me show off for Dream and George.” You gave a crooked grin. You could already imagine the frustration on their faces as you trained. Your training sessions were nearly daily anyways, and you hoped that Techno didn’t choose today of all days for a day off. You really wanted to show off and make it known that you could hold yourself in a battle. Especially with Techno.

“He’s cocky when it comes to his fighting, he’ll want to show off. You won’t even have to ask him.” You couldn’t help but grin at that, eyes alight. Good. You really wanted to be able to see how the two would react. You had a rough feeling on how Dream would react, but you really wanted to see if he would be proud after all of it was said and done. After all, learning to fight from literally nothing wasn’t a small task.

“Good! That’s all I ask for the time being. I’ll ask about my dagger later, then.” Eret only gave you an amused look, watching you return to wandering around the room. You were just incredibly eager to see your brother again. Even though it was for your wedding, a thought that had your stomach flipping. You still had trouble picturing it as your own wedding, despite the fact you had helped through every single step of it.

“It’ll probably have to wait until after your marriage. It’s already bad enough you’re all bruised up before the wedding, we don’t need any cuts showing up,” Eret teased and you huffed, acutely aware of how it would look. Neither George nor Dream would be pleased about the bruises on your forearms from blocking hits from Techno. Not that you cared too much what they thought about them. You were happy that they were there because it meant you were learning. You were improving on top of it, too. You had to be.

“I suppose I can be okay with that. After the wedding I better be using my dagger, or Techno is gonna have a few problems.” You settled your hands on your hips, puffing out your chest.

“Somehow I doubt you could give him very many problems.” Eret’s laugh was contagious, easily breaking through your initial pout.

“Maybe I could, you don’t know!” You wandered to stand beside him, peering as he messed with some of the decorations, making sure they sat as he wanted. “Do we need to do a final dress fitting?”

“No, the only thing you need to do is take it easy and prepare yourself for your wedding tomorrow.” Eret reached over, patting your shoulder. You huffed. You had been antsy the entire time, wanting to make sure everything was perfect. While it was an arranged marriage, it was still your one and only wedding. You were going to make sure things were perfect for it. As much as you could, anyways.

“That means do nothing until George and Dream get here. Who knows when that’ll be,” You whined, dramatically leaning against him. He laughed, head shaking.

“Realistically? Anytime soon. Didn’t the prince say they were planning to leave early morning?” You nodded at the question, craning your head towards the main hall. They would be arriving soon, and it caused excited butterflies to swirl around your stomach. Eret noticed, pushing you gently towards the door. “Go wait for them before you wear a path into the floor.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, grinning thankfully at your friend as you took off towards the door. The morning sun beat down on the ground outside, and you giddily went to the same spot Philza, Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur had stood for your arrival. You rocked back and forth on your heels, staring down the stone path expectantly. As if they would appear if you so much as blinked.

“You seem excited,” A voice mused from beside you. You yelped in surprise, jumping a little. Techno stood beside you, looking down in amusement at you. When the hell had he snuck up on you? Were you really that focused on Dream and George’s arrival?

“I am, I missed them,” you replied, turning your gaze towards the path again. A fond smile was painted on your face, eyes bright with excitement.

“They should be here soon. The carriage was seen pulling into the capital not too long ago.” The words only fuelled your excitement, and it took everything in you to not start pacing again. You really were restless with the excitement, the movement felt like the only way to expel it. Other than being able to hug George properly. You simply continued to rock on your heels, excitedly listening out for the sound of them. Under the assumption you didn’t see them first.

You heard the steady pace of horse hooves before you saw the carriage, though you stood on your tip-toes. You grasped onto Techno’s arm for balance as you craned in an attempt to see. From your peripheral you could see him look at you, that amused smile on his face. His hand covered yours on his arm, allowing you to properly look for the carriage as it pulled up.

You were practically bouncing when it came to a stop, fingers curling into Techno’s arm. You didn’t even care who came out of the damned thing first, you were going to hug them. Techno laughed as you stared, watching the door open with such eager anticipation. You launched yourself away from Techno, throwing yourself at the man who stepped out of the carriage.

Arms wrapped around you, a startled laugh ringing in your ears as you were spun around before your feet returned to the ground. “Good to see you too.” You pulled back a little, grinning at George fondly.

“I missed you so much,” You held onto him tight, not wanting too much to part.

“It’s been a rough few weeks, hasn’t it?” He reached up to ruffle your hair, much to your protest.

“Did you miss me too?” Dream’s voice called as he stepped down onto the stone. Excitement lit up your face as you untangled yourself from your brother.

“Dream!” You called excitedly as you threw yourself at him next. He picked you up as your arms wrapped around his neck, holding you tight against him. “Of course I missed you, idiot. You never replied to any of my letters.” You buried your face into his neck, relishing the familiar scent of fresh linen and roses, as well as the sharp tang of metal. It was comforting to smell it again.

“I was busy with a few things, but I promised I read each and every one of them,” He assured you, hands squeezing your waist. Techno cleared his throat from behind the two of you, and you sheepishly pulled away from your friend at that. You offered Dream a gentler smile, turning to offer it to Techno as well. The same look he had given Dream back when you set off in the carriage, except it was a little more off putting now that you could actually see his facial expression. The down tilt of his mouth, the way his eyes were narrowed. It was enough to make you take a few large steps back from Dream, closer to Techno.

“I’m glad to see you made it here safely. I take it the trip was okay?” Techno mainly addressed George as he spoke, and you wandered back to his side. Standing between George and Dream held a different feeling than it had previously. George followed when Techno moved towards the castle. His hand settled in the middle of your lower back to guide you, an action that made heat rise to your cheeks. You were used to him resting a hand on your back, but it was always between your shoulder blades.

“It was, thank you. Have things been fine here?” George upheld the conversation, and you just let the two of them talk. Between the hand on your back and the heated stare you could feel burning holes into you, you didn’t think you trusted your voice at the moment.

“I’ll let you show them around. Come to the courtyard when you’re finished,” Techno addressed you, hand finally moving away from your back. You missed the touch just the slightest, but met Techno’s pointed look evenly. For training. He meant to meet him there to train. A smile blossomed on your face as it clicked.

“Alright, I shouldn’t take too long.” You watched him leave towards the courtyard, but not before he narrowed his eyes at Dream once more. It was going to be a long week, wasn’t it? You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on showing them around.

“He’s much less intimidating without the mask,” George mused, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“He’s only intimidating when he wants to be.” You led them towards the east wing, entirely forgoing the west wing. It was mostly just servants quarters and work rooms, so truly Dream and George didn’t need to know too much about it. You informed them as much, too.

“Where’s your dagger?” Dream questioned as you lead them into the dining hall, causing you to look at your hip. You hadn’t been wearing it since you never used it yet, and taking it off during training was just an extra step you didn’t care for.

“I haven’t learned to use it yet, though I’ll probably start learning to use it after the wedding.” You grinned bright, and George made a sound of disagreement.

“I still don’t think you need to be learning to fight. Surely you won’t be in a position where Technoblade can’t protect you.” You shrugged, leading them down the wings and pointing out various rooms.

“I don’t think I will be put into the position, but it doesn’t hurt to have the knowledge should it be needed.” You led them up the stairs next, heading towards the rooms they would be staying in.

“Just don’t get yourself hurt. I don’t want to get a letter about that.” Dream gave you a pointed look and you laughed, head shaking. 

“I won’t! I take good care of myself!” You defended, watching them examine the rooms. When they were satisfied and returned to your side, excitement bubbled in your stomach. This meant you were closer to training, all you had to do was change and head to the courtyards.

“Going to come with me to the courtyard?” You asked with an excited smile, heading in the direction of your room. 

“I don’t see why not. You seem awfully excited.” George raised an eyebrow and you grinned, peering out of the windows as you passed the ones that overlooked the courtyard. You could see the training patch from here, and you could very clearly see Techno on it, across from Philza. Both had swords drawn, practically dancing around each other and calculating the others movements. They moved with a sense of clear familiarity, around both each other and their blades. It wasn’t the first time you had seen Techno train using his sword, but it always enraptured you every time.

“I am.” Your voice was soft as George and Dream also glanced out the windows to see what you were looking at. Just in time for Techno to knock Philza’s sword out of his hand, the weapon bouncing along the ground. His shoulders heaved, a cocky grin on his face when his uncle raised his hands in defeat. He sheathed the sword, hand raising to wipe sweat from his brow. He’d clearly been training from the moment he’d been out there.

As if aware you were watching his gaze tilted up, looking towards the window. More specifically, towards you. He gave a grin your way, hand raising in a small wave which you couldn’t help but return. He raised his eyebrows, almost as if a silent question on if you were almost done and you couldn’t help but nod excitedly. From beside you, Dream huffed, especially at the smug smile on Techno’s face. You didn’t care, simply moving away from the window to move to your room faster.

“I have to change, but then we can go to the courtyard.” You practically ran into your room, eager to change into your pants and boots as opposed to the dress. You eyed the exposed bruises on your forearms, knowing full and well the reaction you were about to get. You slid out of your room, grinning up at George and Dream. “Okay, so, I may be about to go train-” You slowly started, warily eyeing their reactions. George made a noise of protest, eyes going wide. Dream shot a hand out, grabbing your wrist and lifting your arm up. The dim lighting in the hall illuminated the bruises of varying shades, as well as the scowl on Dream’s face.

“This is what happens when you train? You’re covered in bruises!” Dream demanded and you flinched a little, slipping your arm from his grasp.

“It’s from blocking hits, it’s not like he’s trying to hurt me,” You grumbled, sidestepping the blonde. The look on his face had made you uneasy, and you didn’t want to look at it. You just wanted to get to the courtyard. 

“You don’t know that! There’s no telling if he wants to hurt you or not!” Dream persisted from behind you. You took a breath, pausing on the stairs and looking at him.

“Dream, I am absolutely fine. You’ll see.” You didn’t give him too much time to react, darting down the stairs. You didn’t want a lecture- you wanted to train. You wanted to have fun. You could hear the two following behind you, as well as George’s soft muttering. Presumably he was reassuring the taller, but you didn’t care to listen to what they were saying.

The warmth of the sun was definitely welcome as it hit your skin. It was a familiar feeling, and you couldn’t help the eager grin on your face as you looked to Techno. He offered you a faint smile as he messed with his hair. He tugged it back, looping it into a loose bun. You raised an eyebrow at it, coming to stand across from him. “Taking this seriously enough to pull your hair back?” You questioned, swinging your arms across your chest in a stretch.

“I have to show your brother how much you’ve improved, don’t I?” He shifted, taking up a fighting stance once more. You naturally fell in line, mimicking his stance. George awkwardly stood to one side, Dream watching with a glare and his arms across his chest. Back behind Techno stood Philza, curiosity clear in his gaze. He hadn’t particularly watched the two of you train in the past, so it seemed now was the time he picked. Tommy and Wilbur were sat on the ground at his feet, watching with varying curiosity and interest.

You rolled your shoulders, before charging at Techno as you often did. You didn’t even have to think too much anymore, feigning to one side and shooting a hand out to clip his side. He had made sure very early on you learned to use your size to your advantage. That showed here as he turned, moving to hit you. You narrowly blocked the hand with your arm, jumping back as his foot shot out. The hit would have landed on your calf had it landed, and you were kinda thankful it had missed this time.

He didn’t relent on you as you danced on your toes, exchanging hits evenly. You stumbled when his hand passed your face, making you dodge to your best ability. You swung a fist out in retaliation, and he easily caught it. He swung it, pinning the arm behind your back. One hand moved towards your neck, hovering as if he had a knife. If he did, the blade would be very near your neck. Blood rushed in your ears, the adrenaline pumping. You were effectively trapped and defeated.

"I think I win this round," He murmured against your ear, and the blood rushed to your face. You were suddenly very aware of the way your back pressed to his chest. You were also vaguely aware of Tommy making disgusted gagging noises from the side.

"It would seem so," You managed to say back, voice barely short of a squeak. He unhanded you, allowing you to slip away from him. Your heart thundered as you took up your spot once more, looking at Techno’s family. Philza had this bemused look on your face, whereas Wilbur looked almost bored and Tommy looked disgusted. Your ears flushed and you focused in Techno once more, hands raised.

"Fight me," Dream's voice interrupted as he stepped into the middle of you and Techno. You blinked up at the blonde, turning to look at George. George had simply shrugged and you looked back towards Dream. Techno had stepped around him, an almost agitated look on his face.

"I was under the impression you didn't want her fighting?" He levelled Dream with a glare, which Dream only seemed to take in stride. Your stomach twisted anxiously, eyes darting between the two men.

"I don't but clearly you're going to teach her anyways." The way venom practically dripped from Dream's voice was worrisome, a trait you had only seen in him once or twice before.

"Well her future is here, so I think it matters more what I want and what she wants." He inclined his head, looking at him down the bridge of his nose. Tommy had leaned over to whisper to Wilbur, glancing at the two uneasily. Techno's fingers had twitched towards one of his swords, and it seemed like Dream was thinking similarly.

"Hey, its fine! I'll train with him! It'll be good to fight someone I'm not familiar with!" You exclaimed as you moved forwards, slotting yourself between them. You pushed at both of their chests, hoping to diffuse the situation. Dream gave Techno a smug smirk, and Techno simply sighed with a nod.

"Fine," He relented, taking a few steps back. He stood beside Philza, looking none too pleased.  You stepped back from Dream, returning to your spot. You could, at the very least, spar with him. So long as it kept the situation from escalating. He didn't wait for you to be ready like Techno often did, instead going straight for you.

You spun on your toes, yelping and dodging out of the way from the hit aimed towards your stomach. You rebounded from the initial shock, spinning again to smack your heel against his thigh. The slight wince that crossed his face immediately brought satisfaction bubbling up, a smile on your face. You weren’t given much time to celebrate the hit, though. You had to react fast, meeting each hit with your own. You winced a little as he struck your wrist, cursing under your breath.

His hits and timing were a lot less forgivable than Techno’s, having an edge to him that you were never quite prepared for. Your eyebrows knitted together as you punched at his shoulder on his bad side, knocking him off balance. His hand shot out, grasping onto your wrist and dragging you down with him. You yelped in surprise, his back slamming into the ground. His body padded you're fall, a small thing you were thankful for.

You weren't given too much time to contemplate the next course of action, getting thrown off of his chest. He rolled the pair of you over, leaving you pinned to the ground beneath him. His hand moved, mimicking as Techno had earlier. Like if he had a knife it would be pressed to your neck.

"I win," Dream whispered and leaned down, smug smirk still on his face. You huffed beneath him, shoving slightly at his hand at your defeat.

"Alright, you win. Now get off of me," You grumbled. You pouted a little and pushed at his shoulder, ignoring the way the smugness vanished. He complied, getting off of you and allowing you to sit up.

"You still have a lot of work to do." His voice came from above you, and you rolled your shoulders. You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. 

"I haven't been training that long, of course I still need to learn." You placed your hands up under you, moving to push yourself up. Before you could, Techno’s all too familiar hand came into sight, offering to help you. He had inserted himself between you and Dream, a frown tugging at his lips. You easily took his hand, allowing him to pull you up. You stumbled as he did so with a little more force than necessary, colliding into his chest with a squeak.

"She did fine. She's not some delicate flower who needs you to keep her thorns clipped." He hardly seemed bothered by you being pressed to his chest, only seeming focused on staring down Dream. You carefully pulled away from Techno’s chest, though you continued to linger by him.

"I never said she was,” Dream spat, causing your nervousness to rise.

“Dream-” George started, moving to grab his friend’s shoulder.

“You didn’t say it explicitly, but your actions said it well enough.” You raised a hand, gently pressing it on Techno’s upper arm.

“Techno-” You murmured softly, moving to push him away. The two glowered at each other, though Techno did allow you to move him. You ushered him towards his brothers, glancing back at Dream nervously. Whatever tension was between these two was quite dangerous, and you didn’t like it. “Dream, maybe you and George should go to your rooms for right now.” Your voice was tense, unsure if the blonde would listen.

“She’s right, Dream.” George’s voice was low as he moved the younger back. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to refuse. Dream pushed George off of him, turning and heading towards the castle. George shot you an apologetic look, chasing after him. You breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing your face.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into him,” You apologized to Techno, who finally looked to you again.

“What a dickhead,” Tommy chimed, a frown on his face as he looked towards the castle. You sighed, not even knowing how to respond. 

“Is he always like that?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow at you, drawing your attention to him.

“Not usually. He’s never done any of that before.” You turned back to Techno, watching him closely. His brows were furrowed, irritation sparkling in his eyes.

“Enough about him. We need to keep training you. Philza.” Techno turned towards his uncle. The older man walked forward, raising an eyebrow. “Go tell Ranboo I need a favor from him. Keep an eye on him,” He muttered softly, eyes cutting towards where Dream had left. Philza followed the gaze and nodded, leaving Techno’s full attention to focus on you. 

“Round two?” You questioned softly with a smile, eager for distraction. As Philza left towards the castle, Techno took up his normal stance and motioned for you. Sparring was better than dealing with whatever dramatics Dream had, and easier than wondering what this favor was that Techno called in from whoever Ranboo was.

Next Chapter | >

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Hrygð (Ivar’s PoV)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Hrygð: affliction, grief, sorrow (Old Norse)  

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: A night post Chapter 45. I told ya Ivar was under a lot of pressure from the Greeks being around, and he does stupid shit under pressure.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: The usual for the story, plus mentions/descriptions of dead bodies, allusions to murder, hallucinations. My best attempt at writing a downward spiral. And oh, THE ANGST. Yes, bold, italic, capital letters angst. It warrants it, believe me.

A/N: So, I promise this makes sense when you get to the end. Trust me.

You wait for him in your bedroom, he knows you do.

He wishes he could walk inside and tell you he regrets it, he wishes the Greek blood staining his hands were something he wanted to wash off.

But he doesn’t.

They didn’t leave him any choice, they forced his hand. He couldn’t let them take you from him, he couldn’t let anyone take you from him.

If he has to deal with your rage, then so be it. You will be angry, and you will grieve, but you will understand, Ivar knows you will.

When he walks in, there is no rage, and that does unbalance him. It makes grow in his chest what a weaker man would call fear, to see you so deadly still.

You don’t turn around, leaving him to look at the straight line of your back, leaving him with nothing to read in you except your voice when slowly, expectantly even though you know the answer, you ask, “What did you do to them, Ivar?”

“They were a threat and you kn-…”

“What did you do to them?” You interrupt. When you turn around, the first thing he notices is the stains the dirt left on your dress. He tells himself that is the first thing he notices, because he refuses to admit he notices the redness in your eyes, the tremble in your lip. “What did you do to my people?”

“They aren’t your people. The people of Kattegat are your people.”

You shake your head, resolute, unwavering. It grips tight at his heart, the way you seem to be unmovable, the way you feel locked away from him somewhere he can’t reach.

Anger burns at him from the inside, bubbling under his skin and making his grip on the crutch tighten until he fears it will break. You made him do this, he did this for you, and now you will turn your back to him?

“I will always be their daughter before I am your wife, you know that. You know before there was a ring on my finger there was Greek blood running through my veins,” Your voice starts to rise, your anger breaking past the cold distance of your disdain; and he almost feels relief at the sight of your rage. “The same blood you have spilled.”

“You made me do it!” He yells, uncaring with how your eyes widen in affront. He wants you to be angry, he wants you to fight. He cannot stand the thought of doing something that makes you surrender. “You let them get close, you-…I know you will choose them over me, over everything I have given you!”

You walk closer, deliberately slowly.

“Everything you have given me!?” You repeat, disbelieving. “You have given me chains, Varangian, nothing more than that!”

His breath stutters and gets stuck on his throat, and Ivar can only look at you with wide eyes.

Varangian.

The fight leaves him, the fire leaves him. He remembers what that feels like, the useless struggling as air is unavailable and useless lungs slowly suffocate him no matter how much he fights against it, he remembers what it is like to be tied to a mast and dragged down to the depths in the inescapable grasp of Rán’s net. It feels exactly like this.

You continue attempting to ignore him, but he won’t be overlooked, he refuses. It is maddening, because he…he believed that was over. He has lived with the uncaring glances, the irrelevance, all his life; and now things are supposed to be different. They have to be, he is better now, he is King, he…

“I must tend to the wounded, Varangian.” You tell him, returning your gaze, your attention, to your work.

Grabbing onto that knife feels like relief, feels like control. When the drops of blood hit the floor, he feels his lips tremble into a mad smile he has to bite back.

By force if you make it so, by fear if he has to, but he won’t be ignored.

Ivar feels like his head is filled with noise, and he stumbles back, catching himself on a wooden post. Dazedly, he thinks he remembers sitting on the ground before that pillar, with you sitting between his legs, your back against his chest, as he taught you to throw knives and watched you fail miserably.

Varangian.

He shakes his head, or he thinks he does. He isn’t sure of that. He isn’t sure of anything, really.

He isn’t even sure that memory of you in his arms is real.

You lift your hands between you, the rattling of chains making him grit his teeth.

“I refuse to die a Varangian’s prisoner.”

Your eyes are burning with a disgust he is familiar with, though not when it comes to you, and that is what makes him want to make you pay for looking at him that way.

So, he chuckles, mocking you and your anger, and your pride. He’d rather have you hate him, if that is all he will have.

“You think you have a choice.”

Voice rough, he orders, “Do not call me that.”

Varangian, Varangian, Varangian, it rattles inside his head. Taunting him, mocking him.

“That is what you are to me,” You retort coldly, cruelly, “That is all you will ever be. The Varangian that took me from my people, that slaughtered them!”

Ivar stops by the door, gripping tightly onto the crutch by his side. Slowly, he asks you to repeat yourself, dares you to.

But he should know the kind of woman you are by now, he should know you are too stubborn to keep your mouth shut. He wishes he could hate that about you.

“You need my consent for us to be married, Varangian,” You state proudly, standing up. He turns to face you, gritting his teeth, and you continue, “I am a free woman, you can’t force me. You won’t break a promise, so you won’t make me a slave.”

Ivar feels the familiar burn of anger and resentment, a pointless and pathetic hope dying somewhere, and he steps forward. He refused to tell you about your mother’s deal with him, but now you’ve forced his hand.

If you ask, he will tell you he hid it for this long because you wouldn’t believe him, but if he’s honest with himself, he knows he did it because he held the stupid hope that marrying him could somehow be your choice.

“I am your husband.” He corrects you. When your eyes are drawn to it, he notices his hand not on the crutch clenched into a fist.

You slowly lift your gaze to him, and demand, “I want you to tell me what you did to them. I want to hear it.”

You don’t, but he was never one to refuse a challenge.

Ivar steps forward, a deep thrust of the crutch against the wooden floor that he didn’t intend to make you flinch, but finds himself almost satisfied that it does. If nothing else, he will take fear.

He will take fear, he will take hatred. Anything but indifference, anything but that distance, that coldness.

“Our men attacked while they were sleeping, lit their homes aflame. Most died screaming, burned alive,” It is a lie, it was just iron and arrows that ended the Greeks, but he knows what will make it more painful. “The ones that ran out were struck down, forced to watch. Happy?

You stay silent, eerily silent. Tears run down your face when you close your eyes, but there’s a jarring kind of peace to your expression as you accept his words that makes Ivar feel like the ground isn’t solid under his feet.

“Answer me!”

“You betrayed me.” You tell him, and he hates it, he hates the way your voice has no tone to it, even the accent seems gone for a moment. He hates the way he made you sound dead.

But no, no, this isn’t his fault. You forced his hand, you and those Greeks.

You have to understand that it isn’t his fault.

“And what are you going to do, hm?” He dares, and he isn’t sure what he wants to hear as an answer. He isn’t sure if it is the part of him that wants more than anything to hear that this is something he can fix that makes him ask you that, or if it is the part of him that has always known you would turn your back to him at the end that does.

Whatever the answer is, it is better than this silence.

You shake your head, though he isn’t sure if it is at his question or at your own thoughts.

“I don’t want to fight anymore, Ivar,” You confess breathily. When your hands join together in front of you, he can’t help but notice you aren’t twirling your wedding ring on your finger as you usually, do, but clawing at the edges of it, as if trying desperately to take it off, though you don’t attempt to. “I do not want to fight you.”

He does. Still, he walks closer, his free hand reaching for you.

Ivar cups the back of your head, noting the way you lean tiredly into the caress and finding his breathing gets a little easier at that simple gesture.

“Can you forgive me?” He asks, though he knows he shouldn’t. He still doesn’t regret it.

Your lips pull into a trembling smile, “I have no choice, do I?”

Instead of giving you an answer, Ivar brings you to him and kisses you deeply, letting himself believe when your breaths are one that everything is as it was, or that it will be, somehow.

Brow pressed against yours, he studies your features carefully, noting the strain in your expression even as your eyes remain closed.

“I love you.” He whispers, and he knows you are aware it is a pathetic and desperate request to hear it back, but he doesn’t much mind anymore.

Your eyes search his, bloodshot and tired and defeated, and he knows he is the reason why. He knows, and it tears at whatever is left of his heart, but he still cannot regret what he did.

The silence deafens him, and he grits his teeth to keep at bay desperation made words.

Say it back, even if you don’t mean it. Lie to me if you have to.

A few quick blinks as if to dispel any tears, and you offer the faintest of smiles. Your hand lifting to cup the side of his face lets him breathe easy, and Ivar doesn’t bother stopping himself from leaning into the caress, the softness.

He hasn’t lost that yet, he hasn’t lost you.

“And I love you,” You tell him. He can pretend your voice doesn’t break halfway through; he can do that, and he can pretend everything is as it was, especially when you press a gentle kiss against his lips and whisper, as if nothing had changed, “More than anyone, more than anything.”

____

When Ivar first wakes up with his arm stretched over the empty space where you should be, he keeps his eyes closed, knowing he will soon hear your soft footsteps as you go about the room, hear you cursing to yourself in your native tongue as you skip over the cold wood, hear you poutingly asking that he move to the colder side of the bed to leave room for you.

He tells himself to wait, and he does, for so long he can no longer pretend the empty side of the bed is still warm in your absence.

Ivar opens his eyes half-expecting to see you there, sitting silently by the dim fires, lost in your own thoughts. When you see he is awake, you will return to bed with him, with your always slightly-cold skin pressed against his, and it will stave off the bubble of fear that is growing in his chest, leaving no room for his lungs to breathe or his heart to beat.

You aren’t there, you are nowhere he can see, even as he sits up on the bed and looks around the darkened room.

But you wouldn’t leave, you wouldn’t leave him. He knows that.

He asked you once, demanded out of you maybe, that you promised to never turn your back to him, to never lie to him; and you gave it, you gave him your word and your trust and your heart and…and he still has them, all of those.

You wouldn’t leave him, you love him. You told him you did, and you don’t lie to him.

So, he calls your name. You’re probably on the other part of the room, moving the weakest of plants you continue to insist on taking care of towards the windows so they can soak up the sunlight.

You will hear him call for you, and you will return, muttering about how it was a mistake to try planting those seeds from the East this far into winter. You will burrow close to his chest, seeking his warmth, and he will wrap his arm around you and everything will be as it was, everything will be as it should be.

But it isn’t, it won’t be.

You are nowhere to be found.

He finds you, eventually. The old bedroom you used to occupy before you were married to him, the one that you still lose yourself in sometimes, with the tougher plants that need less frequent care from you.

One of the thralls told him you had gone there sometime during the night, and hadn’t come out yet. Ivar knows what he did is wrong, and he knows…he knows it will be difficult for you to forgive him, but he will convince you to return to the bedroom you share. He hates the idea of sleeping without you by his side.

He opens the door with his free hand, walking in and immediately recognizing the familiar scent of lavender. It is comforting, more than he would like to admit.

Until he sees you.

There lays the bloodied and lifeless body, blade embedded deep in the chest, round handle of the knife almost hidden in the bloodied folds of the dress. The knife he gifted you, so long ago.

I do not fear death, no Hiereia of the Dread Gods fears death, you told him once.

He has always known you’d prefer death before chains, he has always known above anything else you would choose your freedom.

“N-No, no, no,” Shaking hands drag him to you -he doens’t know when he fell to the floor-, and the way your body lolls lifelessly when he holds you to him makes him feel like vomiting. All that leaves him are choked gasps, he isn’t sure if the ragged and roughened sound that he hears is his voice, but it seems like it. “No, p-please, I-…”

He doesn’t know what he is talking to, he surely cannot talk to you since you are…

No, it isn’t you.

The shape of her nose is wrong, and the color of her eyes, even past the veil of death, is wrong. Everything, once he can actually think clearly, looks wrong about her.

She isn’t you.

He is going to lose his mind, he is sure of it.

Ivar moves away from her, from…it, but the way she still resembles you so strikingly makes him sick, and the sound the body makes as it stiffly falls from his lap to the cold wood rattles inside his head.

He closes his eyes, focuses on breathing. She smells like lavender, like you, and…yes, he is sure he will lose his mind here.

Ivar doesn’t know how much time it passes, how long he stays there in that room with a dead woman. He knows at some points he forgets it isn’t you, and at he knows when he remembers it isn’t that he realizes this is your last message to him.

By the end of the day, Ivar stumbles back into an empty bedroom after standing for so long as they celebrated a funeral for a woman that lives and breathes, but even as darkness presses ruthlessly against the dim lights of the room, he refuses to get in the bed to sleep.

He will not lay alone in that damn bed again. Not until you return to him.

And you will.

____

He knows you went to them. He knew that, long before they received word from their scouts that you had reunited with the surviving Greeks.

It took them four days to find where you had been, and three days of travelling. Ivar wants to find those responsible for taking this long and punish them for their slowness.

If he could focus on the anger for long enough, he would, but he can’t seem to focus on anything.

“Our faster men can reach that town in a day and a half, let m-…”

“She will come back, brother,” Ivar interrupts, eyes focused on the shape of the snake in the bracelet you left behind. Since he gifted it to you, you haven’t parted it from it, wearing it as often as you can. He knows you wouldn’t leave it behind if you didn’t intend to come back, he knows you left it as a sign to him, a promise that it is only a matter of time. Like the knife he gifted you, it was all a message, he knows it. Ivar swallows thickly at Hvitserk’s silence -it sounds so much like pity, he hates it-, and insists, “She didn’t leave me, didn’t b-betray me.”

“You betrayed me.” You tell him, voice by his ear, a defeated sort of numbness in your voice that he remembers from that last night. Sharply, he turns to you with a gasp that dies on his throat.

But, of course, all that he finds is nothingness.

“Ivar,” Hvitserk calls out, an edge to his voice. He turns to his brother, finds a frown marrying his features. “I can go myself. Let m-…”

“She will come back!” He interrupts again, though it sounds manic even to his own ears. He tries making his body let go of the stillness that makes even breathing difficult, but he can’t. Still, he offers a smile that his brother almost flinches at, and insists, more calmly, “I know my wife better than you, hm? I know…I know her, just-…you’ll see.”

Offering only a sigh, his brother stands up, “At least get some sleep. You haven’t slept in…what, three days?”

Seven.

____

Days continue passing, and almost as a punishment for refusing to accept you are gone, for insisting on not even looking at that damn bed until you are back by his side, Ivar hears your voice more and more often.

Today, you are talkative, and you sound as if you were sitting by his left side in the emptiness of your bedroom. He wishes with your voice also returned the familiar scent of lavender that seemed to accompany you everywhere. He misses that.

“Find a way or make one, but you will always have a choice.”

You told him that before, when you were sanding by his side, and your hand was solid and comforting in his grasp. He wishes he could pretend he still feels the press of your lips on his shoulder from that day, he wishes he could pretend he still feels you next to him.

Still, because it is just him and your absence now, no one left to see he has lost it, he asks the nothingness, “What choice did you leave me with, hm?”

He hears a delicate laugh somewhere at his left, and that is all the answer he gets.

Ivar knows what the people would whisper when he first brought you here, those tales of a half-mad king that lost what was left of his mind to a foreign witch.

He realizes with a laugh that bubbles in his chest but sounds choked when it stutters past his lips, that maybe they were all right. Maybe you did bewitch him, or curse him. Maybe he did lose his mind because of a foreign witch.

Your voice breezes past his ear, this time startling him less, “With all the ways we drive each other mad, you still think the Gods fated this?”

It isn’t the teasing edge of that day, the smile he can hear in your voice isn’t the soft and disbelieving one. There is no warmth to any of it.

It is mocking, it is the disdain he made you queen to avoid facing, it is the coldness of the woman he never wanted to see you lose yourself as.

Your words from that day, the words your ghost -his mind?- spits back at him seem fitting, in a way. A twisted, ironic way, but still.

Because you did drive him mad after all, just not with your presence. With your absence.

Regardless, after nearly two weeks, he realizes you aren’t coming back.

He supposes it shouldn’t have taken that long, but then again there’s a part of him that still dares think this is all some twisted nightmare.

They tell him most of the Greeks, including you, have left with merchant vessels near Eldham towards the Mediterranean, they tell him there is no way to track you down now.

They don’t tell him, but he hears it regardless, that you are lost to him.

Ivar’s eyes are trained on this small and pitiful plant you kept potted near the table where you’d rest against at night as you took off the earrings and jewelry you wore that day.

He cannot take his eyes off this insignificant, withered thing. It almost seems impossible, that it looks like that. You’d spend half a day if you had to looking after these things, making sure they were as vibrant and lively as you could keep them.

It dawns on him that it died in your absence, in the absence he had convinced himself was a passing thing, temporary, inconsequential.

You told him things said aloud are made real, you told him that by will alone he could achieve anything he wanted, and he believed you.

He believed you when you told him those things, just as he believed you when you told him you were staying. Just as he believed you when you told him you loved him.

With a yell that sounds like a roar to his own ears, he puts all his strength behind the movement of his arm as his hand grips the edge of that table, flipping it and throwing the things on it, even that damn plant, across the room.

Almost two weeks without sleep have left him weaker than he would like to admit, and it isn’t easy to move his limbs to stop himself from falling painfully to the ground, the movements too uncoordinated, too sluggish.

Resigned to the cold and hard ground, Ivar turns to lay on his back.

With the silence ringing in his ears, he finds himself asking, “Will you stay?”

If all he has is a ghost, he might as well be on good terms with it.

“Of course I will stay. I wanted to, you know,” You reply somewhere at his right. This is the first time you’ve spoken something you haven’t said before, this is the first time your ghost seems to answer coherently. That is, until you whisper, “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”

The words sound more mocking and crueler than they ever did, though perhaps he was foolish to think they were ever anything other than a reminder of what following his father’s last advice cost him.

Be ruthless, be ruthless, be ruthless.

It echoes in his head, louder and louder each time. At some point he realizes that even if the voice of a ghost gets loud enough that he has to resist the urge to uselessly cover his ears with his hands, it at least drowns out his thoughts, and it silences you.

On the floor by the bed he refuses to even touch since it still doesn’t have you in it, he lets himself sleep for the first time in so long.

____

He wakes suddenly, sitting up on the bed and taking gasping breaths to fill his lungs, eyes wide as he searches the nothingness in front of him.

“Ivar?” You ask, and the bed dips when you move to sit up as well. “Ivar, what’s wrong?”

The plant is alive.

And he cannot take his eyes off it.

It is still a small, pitiful thing, but he cannot look away from it. His breaths quicken as he blinks rapidly, trying desperately to get used to the darkness of the room, needing to see clearly that the damn plant truly is alive.

The more time it passes the more he starts to see it withered and dead, and even as through gasping and frantic breaths he somehow smells the comforting scent of lavender and you, it somehow isn’t enough.

It terrifies him, that he doesn’t know what is real and what isn’t.

He knows what he wants to be real, and it is the bed soft and warm underneath him, the sound of your voice being more than an illusion, the damn plant being alive still. But somehow wanting it to be real makes him think that is the one it isn’t.

“Ivar!” You insist, voice more anxious. Your hand on the side of his face almost makes him flinch, but when you turn his face to you, he can see you there beside him. He lifts a hand desperately to hold your own against his face, lest you stop touching him and disappear. Or he does. He isn’t sure. Your eyes search his, and your thumb runs back and forth over his skin. It’s soothing, more than you could ever know. “It was just a nightmare, love.”

Was it?

You are straddling him, arms wrapped tightly around him, hands running up and down his back. He doesn’t know when you moved, but he is grateful for it.

His hand reaches tentatively for you, still irrationally afraid you will vanish, and when he finds soft skin under his grasp, Ivar feels a breath leaves his lips in something too close to a sob.

“Shh, it is alright,” You whisper, soothingly, though he notices the tremble in your voice. “Just a nightmare. I’m here, it’s alright.”

Yes, of course it was a nightmare. He never attacked the Greeks, you never left him.

He knows that now. It felt so real, though.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, surrounded by the feel of you and the maddening scent of lavender, and matches his breaths to the cadence of your own, trying to hold on to the calm you so easily offer.

Ivar isn’t sure how much time it passes, it is more than enough for the sweat on his chest and back to have been bitingly cold and now be gone, it is more than enough for his breaths to be back under his own control. It isn’t enough for his hold on you to loosen, but not enough time can pass for that to happen anytime soon.

Laying back down on the bed with you, keeping an arm safely secured around you as you two lay on your sides, Ivar keeps his eyes roaming over your features, uncaring that you do the same -though you are most likely studying for any tell that he still isn’t well, which he isn’t-, taking in the way your eyes soften to accompany the small smile you offer and the familiarly unpredictable way your hair is tussled by sleep.

“Will you tell me about it?”

His answer is immediate, “No.”

Your lips furrow, and he knows you will insist by that alone. Stubborn, insufferable woman.

“Was it about me?”

“I said I don’t want to tell you.” He snaps, but you don’t seem to mind the brashness.

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t real.” You reassure him. He hates the fact that he clings to those words, he hates how they fill him with a relief none of his assurances to himself couldn’t match.

“I know. Stop coddling me, woman.” He grumbles past gritted teeth, prompting only a smile from you.

“You secretly love it,” You tease, leaning close to press a kiss over the scar on his cheek. “What would you do without me pestering you, hm?”

He swallows thickly, and doesn’t answer. Settling a little closer, you meet his eyes again, a tranquility to your gaze he wishes he could find again, and he gathers he can, as long as that adoration and that softness that shine in your gaze don’t go anywhere just yet.

“You should sleep some more. I promise, Melinöe won’t claim you while I’m here,” You offer with a glint in your eye, managing to make his lips pull into a smile. Closing the distance between you, you rub your nose against his before kissing him sweetly, so softly it almost makes Ivar feel he will shatter at the gentleness of it. Breaths one, you promise, “I love you.”

He exchanges seeing you for feeling you, and closes the distance again, claiming your mouth in a short kiss.

Pulling away, Ivar finds himself asking, “Tell me again.”

Without hesitation, you whisper, “I love you, Ivar. More than anyone, more than anything.”

It doesn’t sound like a lie. Even if it is, he doesn’t care.

____ ____ ____

First of all, I’m sorry. Second of all, I hope it made sense. Those of you that read ἀλήθεια know what Ivar was living through, since this was brought to life by @youbloodymadgenius‘ request of an Ivar PoV of the night she left him in Alatheia and the times that came after that. But, because I am one soft bitch, I couldn’t bring myself to write all that hurt without at least some comfort, so...here ya go!

I would love to hear your thoughts on this!

Btw, technically hallucinations as a result of sleep deprivation go from visual to auditory, but fuck it, y’know? I do research to confidently write down useless stuff, yes, but I also do research to stubbornly go against said research for the sake of plot. This time it was the second.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax​ @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss @itsmysticalmystery @revolution-starter @the-a-word-2214 @fae-sedai @crazybunnyladysworld   @funmadnessandbadassvikings @stupiddarkkside @aprilivar @msrawog @kaitieskidmore1  

[hopefulobjectmiracle]

I find it really really strange how the BrittanaKlaine friendship is literally canon, but it’s one of the most dismissed/hated friendships in the fandom, I don’t understand it, what is there to hate so much?

i think it's because klaine and brittana fans don't generally get along, and both sides generally tend to hate the other ship...which i think is sad, because like i've said a million times, those two fandoms should've stuck together throughout all of the homophobic censorship and mistreatment by the hets instead of fighting with each other 🥴🥴

but anyway, most brittana fans don’t usually like klaine, and most klaine fans don't like brittana, and all of these people on both sides hate the idea of their favorite ship being friends with a couple they hate. so they like to claim that klaine don't like brittana (or more often, vice versa) because these fans can't grasp the idea that just because they dislike the ship, it doesn't mean that their favorite characters feel the same way.

projection is unfortunately very common in fandom, and it's the biggest reason why the klaine/brittana friendship is so dismissed, because people don't want them to be friends so badly want to believe that their faves share the same opinions as them, even in cases like this where that's not true at all.

i also feel like...the double wedding did much more harm than good in terms of establishing their friendship. and by that, i mean one specific scene: the one where brittany and sue try to convince klaine to get married. that scene as a whole was clunky and badly written, but there was one line in particular - brittany saying that she looked up to klaine as a couple - that felt contrived and rubbed a lot of people the wrong way.

there was no prior indication that brittany viewed klaine as role models, and so i think this line randomly being inserted to push the double wedding really contributed to some people's aversion to the friendship. until that moment, the writers hadn't given us many full group scenes with klaine and brittana, so it felt forced rather than a natural development. also, a lot of brittana fans also found it insulting to brittany's character, since she'd never had any issues with being out and proud. and...i kind of disagree. i actually have many thoughts on that line in particular, but this post is long enough so i'll cut myself off here.

my point is that the we got several moments in canon that showed that all four characters liked each other, but some people are still put off of the friendship both because of fan wars and because the double wedding failed in its ham-fisted attempt to connect the couples through brittany's contrived line instead of capitalizing on the pre-established friendship that was already there.

honestly i do understand why there aren't too many people in fandom on board with klaine and brittana's friendship, but it still makes me sad because even outside of the double wedding, it's canon that they're friends...yet so many people want to dismiss it because of personal biases and fan wars :(

anyway, anon...i'd prefer to live in my little bubble where we choose to love and appreciate klaine & brittana's friendship in canon and in fic and ignore the haters. so if you ever want to talk about them or maybe drop in a few headcanons, just know my inbox is always open and will always welcome that kind of content :)

[1ddotdhq]

🎥Mon 7 Dec ‘20🎸

Louis was around on twitter! “Hope everyone is doing good! Excited for the show,” he said, to which fans responded by trending “me too”. Guys, uh. Well let’s just say that when I saw ‘me too’ trending under ‘Louis Tomlinson’, my heart skipped a beat and not in a good “it's louis!” way. That’s just NOT IT. ANYWAYS, Louis declined to share the setlist in advance, as if he ever would but nice try guys! He told fans that one of the main reasons he was doing this was to give fans who had never seen him live the opportunity to do so! I thought it would have been paying the crew, but really there are so many good reasons for Louis to play shows, please keep it up! Obviously he intends to, he's Louis, but even as eager as he is to tour it will have to wait just a tiny bit longer, and in acknowledgement of that a couple of the shows (Glasgow and Berlin) that were moved to this spring were moved again just now, to fall 2021. Maybe they're doing some final shuffling for what they actually expect to be the real dates rather than placeholders for insurance and ticket reasons! And Veeps sent out emails to ticketholders to log in and test out their accounts; I'm glad to see they're actively working on getting prepared for what will be the biggest stream they've yet hosted.

Liam has a whole ass MUSIC VIDEO dropping on Wednesday! He and Dixie have made a (presumably socially distanced) music video for Naughty List AND they will be going live together on YouTube to answer questions. Hopefully this chat will be less awkward than their last one, but if you have any question, they’re going live at 5:45 pm GMT (9:45 PST for people in Dixie’s timezone!). There’s a small preview YouTube of Dixie and Liam dancing (individually) to the song. Today’s alarm DID actually feature Roman and Liam, telling Christmas Cracker jokes (“Why does Santa avoid dirty chimneys? Carbon footprint!”). Liam and Roman will also be dynamic duo-ing all over Roman’s radio show (the Capital Breakfast) tomorrow morning, so we get DOUBLE the morning wake-up content! Niall got his Irish Award from the Trinity College’s law society, and talked about his next moves. “I’m known as the guy with the acoustic [guitar] and you can’t lose that,” he said, “but I’m heavily influenced by rock and roll. All my favorite bands are rock bands...the older I get, the more I feel like I wanna get up on stage at arenas and play rock songs” (okay grandpa) and asked fans what they were about with getting mad at Ryan Tedder for saying... that Niall was the guy with an acoustic guitar. About the award, he said he was “absolutely blown away” when he heard he’d received it, and that he “[loves] being an ambassador for our great country”.  About his name trending on twitter (no, no reason) he picked a tweet of random pictures of him labeled “Niall on the timeline” and added “There he is.” Yep. There he is.

For the weekly ‘about-Harry-without-Harry’ segment: the DWD had been COMPLETELY shut down, taped off, and is blocked by police, as of a couple of days ago. However, today Chris Pine was on an American talk show today (“Harry’s a love,” he said!) and he mentioned that he had wrapped up his filming and was in London. Another actress from the film ALSO confirmed that she had wrapped until January, and all the videos coming from the set now are a couple of days old, so it seems like the next time we will be seeing Harry is on the 10th for his Jingle Ball performance (ahhh!!! 3 days!!!). Meanwhile the real Harry liked a Lizzo post about body positivity, excellent stuff.

Today was tumblr’s year in review and We Made It!! It was not universally celebrated, but it was still very funny: Larry Stylinson was the 43rd most popular ship on tumblr (Larries: IT'S NOT A SHIP, MOM!), Harry was the #1 solo artist, Louis entered the chart #3 (Taylor Swift came between them at number 2, and there’s a joke to be made there but I won’t be the one to make it!), Niall was #5, and One Direction as a whole was #5 for ‘group artists’.  And, because we all need a bit of twitter madness in our life, twitter stans discovered that a user named ‘CaucasianJames’ (because that username SCREAMS credibility) had ‘attended a zoom wedding’ for ‘Mitch’ and ‘Sarah’. Fans quickly went to check out the REAL Mitch and Sarah’s instagram page and lo and behold, Mitch was wearing a wedding ring in Sarah’s latest picture! Could...did they get married?? Alas, CaucasianJames admitted that he had NO CLUE why his mentions had just exploded, because it was a prank and he’d just picked two random names out of a hat. So that’s that for that, except, well...Mitch *is* wearing a wedding band. Uh, so? Congratulations, lovebirds?? Maybe? And DEFINITELY congrats to James, who sent me on yet ANOTHER twitter goosechase, and we all know how much I ADORE those.

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Recently saw a tiktok that was like "if you ship [toph and zuko] than you have issues or you see something galaxy brained that i havent" and stumbled upon the concept of aroace Zuko and i concocted this idea ages ago so im posting it now: the epic Toph x Zuko Marriage of Convenience 

Okay what you are all thinking of is book 3 Toph and Zuko, which totally dont have romantic chemistry and with the added age difference is prob why no one ever considers this ship. Four years when you're a teenager is a big difference. Four years when you're in your twenties and beyond isnt that big a deal. So they're adults and they've been friends for years at this point.

You also gotta sit back and look at what they are. Toph is the only child to a very rich and very well known Earth Kingdom family. Her family name in general is huge and carries a lot of weight but you also got her own accomplishments: Master Earthbender, the Creator of Metalbending, the Avatar's Earthbending teacher, and shes a war hero. Thats big. And then you got Zuko, who at this point is the Fire Lord. Zuko himself comes from a prominent Fire Nation family, seeing as he's royalty. He's also descended from a Avatar, but i dont think thats all that well known. Zuko is a Master Firebender, the Avatar's Firebending Teacher, and a war hero. On top of being famous both these people have credibility to fall back on.

So what im leaning into here is not exactly a marriage alliance seeing as the Earth Kingdom has its own royalty but its definitely a political move

Anyways Zuko has a lot on his plate, dismantling his dad's empire and all that. When he's nearing 30 the council is all like "you need to find a bride". Zuko writes up his ex-girlfriends and finds out they're either married or he just cant bring himself to trap someone into a marriage with him after knowing how it destroyed his mom. So he's stuck with no one of his own choosing so the council and high up nobles are trying to fix him up and not-so-subtly set him up with their daughters. Half of Team Avatar comes and visits (lets say Toph, Aang, and Sokka) and witness the behind the scenes of all this. They're having tea with Zuko and two people come in at different times and try to casually talk about the marriage thing. Toph can hear things that happen in the hallways too. Zuko is all "noooooooo guys why is this happening to me" and Sokka probably finds it funny but also a little sucky, and Aang probably hates it because "Zuko should marry for love!". And Toph is all "I know right" because she can totally relate. Her parents were looking for matches for her since she was born, and now that shes visiting again they've started back up again. Her and Zuko start swapping match-making stories ("so i come home and this boy and his father are there and my mom is all like 'Toph have you met __'" "I'm in the throne room for a meeting on road construction and this guy derails the whole thing so he can introduce his niece to me"). Later on after Toph has been listening in on the palace for a few days now and shes starting to really feel sorry for Zuko. Sokka just keeps making jokes until Toph snaps at him. Aang is pretty oblivious and probably spends all day at the market looking for souvenirs to bring home for Katara. And one night while Zuko is up late doing paperwork by candle light Toph stops by because her body cant sleep at night sometimes and they get to talking and Toph jokingly throws out "what if we just married each other? Then everyone will get off both our backs!" and they're laughing and after they've calmed down Zuko has a light bulb moment and he's like "wait, that might not be a bad idea". They spend all night working out the details to their hypothetical wedding and a day later decide to actually go through with it. Theres uproar from the council of course because Zuko didnt choose their pick Toph isnt Fire Nation nobility. And then Zuko starts listing all her family's importance and stuff and the council is forced to admit to themselves its not actually a bad idea. Plus marrying Earth Kingdom would make the Fire Lord more relatable to the colonies where theyre having a lot of problems with people of mixed heritage right now. Sokka and Aang hear rumblings of this because palace servants gossip and they're debating wether or not to believe these rumors when they run into Toph and just ask her and shes all like "yeah we're talking about it" and they boys flip out. Aang still maintains that everyone should marry for love but Toph and Zuko won't budge.

Over in the Earth Kingdom Toph's parents are ecstatic because the only better option Toph could marry was Earth Kingdom royalty. They completely endorse it and only argue to not seem like pushovers and when topics revolving money come up (ex. dowery). The Earth King gets in on this because its too good a opportunity to not capitalize on it. The Earth Kingdom is abuzz because a foreign King is marrying one of their own. Everyone is hyped and Team Avatar are the only ones who find the whole situation weird because to them its not a fairytale its their actual friends.

All-in-all they get married in the Fire Nation and the guest list was awful to make but people from all over the world are there. Toph's mother freaks out the whole time because "what if Toph falls down all those steps!" The wedding is mostly all Fire Nation tradition but Toph wears a Earth Kingdom wedding dress because everything is political now. Toph and Zuko have a relatively fun night and Sokka has the time of his life. And their marriage actually really works out for them because they're friends. They make fun of fancy people and rant to each other in the evenings. Toph is still running metal bending schools but either now they have to come to her or she gets stuck with a Fire Nation security team for like 3 months of the year she spends in the Earth Kingdom and she gets flashbacks to her childhood. And Zuko is sometimes all "i miss my wife" and the servants are all "awwww they're so in love" but the truth is he wants to talk sh*t with her and because shes blind he always has to write letters with the interpreter's opinion/gossip in mind. Toph still sneaks out all the time because shes not giving up her independence willy-nilly and is not above pulling the blind card to get out of things, which irritates Zuko sometimes because that means he has to deal with boring meetings by himself. They gaang visits all the time and by the time Republic City rolls around Toph manages to get herself sent as a "ambassador" (her and Sokka have some fun their shared meetings) and then to stay on to help set up the police force, which is a little dicy since shes representing the Fire Nation but also shes teaching only metalbending so its a controversial thing. This also gives Zuko a excuse to visit Republic City more often so he can see everyone since they settled down there.

[mintchocohip]

sub!bts as househusbands

╺ requested | the ot7 as househusbands!

╺ note | sub!bts x domme!reader. see each member for any notes!

TAEHYUNG ➜

note | roleplay

Visiting friends, putting on his errand boy hat, or wandering town with a camera, an empty stomach, and a pocketful of cash occupy chunks of Taehyung’s weekdays. He isn’t allowed to open his sub journal until three hours past noon—that’s the hour when he misses you the most. At the sanctioned time Taehyung opens the journal to today’s date and picks out a handwritten note delicately tucked into the pages. Today, he’s Maestra’s best student—recording himself practicing the new song you chose on his violin. “'I’ll do anything for Maestra. I would be her Cinderella,’” you’re finally home, and you’re sitting next to Taehyung on the couch reading aloud the journal entry he scribbled after sending you the recording, “'cleaning on hands and knees.’” Taehyung’s sheepishness at hearing you voice his fantasies is cured by a fluff of his hair and a fond kiss on his rosy ear. As you wash dishes with Taehyung later this evening you’ll contemplate tomorrow. Choosing these secret tasks is your prerogative. Still. Your husband always has amazing ideas. 

YOONGI ➜

notes | naked apron kink, mentions of pegging

Yoongi is the ideal house husband. He’s vigilant, hardworking, and resourceful. A need for time and space alone is never questioned. When your sleepy-eyed husband emerges from the solitude of his home studio, though, Yoongi needs tangible proof he’s making you happy. “An apron?” Yoongi glances down at the white sheath. He wandered into the kitchen to find you home from work with a shopping bag on your elbow. You’re holding the apron’s straps against his shoulders to judge the fit. “Cooking naked. Flying oil. Makes me nervous... I thought my little chef could use an apron.” Yoongi blinks. He knows he’s blushing. Usually, he doesn’t pull on clothes before waking up early to cook you breakfast and pack your lunch for work. Cooking for you is basic, respectful routine. It would be easier to toss on a baggy shirt than tie an apron. This gift mostly appears to benefit the person who strolls into the kitchen most mornings acting like you’re already hopped up on two espressos and daydreaming about giving him the strap tonight while you wake yourself up knowing full well the effect your naughty backhugs and whispered “good morning, baby”s have on his attempts to focus on stirring veggies in the frying pan, of course; but, Yoongi has a feeling he might enjoy it more than you do.

JUNGKOOK ➜

notes | mdlb, little!jk

Jungkook waited for the right moment expectantly. He sensed it in your aura. He felt it in the way you looked at him, listened to him, and held him in the weeks before. Something changed. It was a comfortable, gentle change. Jungkook cried when he proposed. He cried at the wedding. He cried when you said it would be better to stop renting dungeon space and instead find an apartment with a suitable extra room. Marriage was about romance, symbolism, and becoming yours. Jungkook knew his lifestyle of playing games and going to the gym all day wouldn’t change. You’re two self-sufficient people who fix up chores as they appear. Most days, Jungkook feels that vocally supporting your ambitions and treating the apartment like a laundrette are the most important things he can do. When you text him to say you’re coming home early and wondering if he could take out all of his littlespace things and set up the playroom before you’re through the door—shocks run up Jungkook’s spine. He gloats like your friend when he steals your snacks, and he thinks like a roommate when he asks if he can dedicate more closet space to his growing shoe collection. Right now, you need your partner. That special knowledge relaxes Jungkook with peaceful—dry-eyed—certainty.  

HOSEOK ➜

note | mommy kink

You didn’t know housework channels existed until Hoseok started one. The ‘mommy’ in his social media handle is cutesy but sincere. In the past Hoseok has always felt tingly and whole when you gave him a sarcastic “sorry, mom” after he scolded you for putting drain cleaner in the wrong cupboard or failing to tap down a coaster for a glass of water. Now, it’s what a legion of fans call the faceless, apron-clad man posting soothing clips of himself cleaning through every room of this gorgeous sunny apartment and, occasionally, grooming the puppies. You’ve never really looked at any of it. Hoseok appreciates that you have him so wholly you don’t need to. “Soft,” you mutter while laying in bed with him at night. You’re playing with his hair to make him smile. Hoseok knows a certain bedside drawer is off-limits from his urge to tidy and rearrange. When you roll over to open it he curls up inside. At some point this house gained two mommies. Only one Mommy is dignified with a capital M in texts through fluxes of dirty talk and reminders to buy new air filters. Only one of them decides when and how Hoseok gets off. Your husband enjoys organizing his days. For your sake, he’s even happier to surrender his nights. 

JIMIN ➜

note | lifestyle d/s

Watered plants, vacuumed cat hair, spotless surfaces, empty recycling, lines in praise of Mistress. Jimin sends you photos of today’s completed chores at the scheduled times and gets cute emojis in return. If he lived alone Jimin might spend all day playing with the foster cats and downing wine at brunch. As it is, he carefully considers a new color scheme for the bathroom. He needs this space to be pretty for you. Shopping with a wide open budget usually distracts Jimin into sending you pictures of a giant teddy bear and asking if you would be angry to find it in the living room when you come home. Although he flutters from amusement to amusement, Jimin is always home, relaxed, and wearing the clothes you like when he needs to be. Hanging up your backpack and taking off your shoes, following you into the bedroom, and kneeling at the edge of the bed to massage your legs and eat your cunt is ritualistic. Jimin makes amazing coffee. You lounge in bed, sip the mug he brings, and tell him what to order for dinner. Discipline earns its rewards. The reason you bicker with smiles on your faces about Jimin’s definition of “spotless surfaces” is absolute comfort. You know what you want from each other, and you want the same things.  

NAMJOON ➜

Lounging in the garden is a fine way to spend a weekend afternoon. Cool shade inside the wisteria tunnel is dappling Namjoon with light and shadow. You lean over the picnic tatami and clink lemonade cans with the man who created this masterpiece. He smiles shyly when he realizes you’re staring. You’re giving him that look. Once upon a time, discovering that you don’t care too much about your surroundings excited Namjoon. It’s a form of power he never thought he would have in a marriage. Perusing local furniture galleries and commissioning artists to furnish a home that suits his aesthetic sparked Namjoon’s creativity. Tempering compost, monitoring seedlings in the garden, and flecking walkways with wildflowers and willows brims him with encompassing adoration for life. Beauty is created in the wake of his passionate work. “Unbutton your shirt halfway.” You're taking a sip of lemonade, leaning back, and watching Namjoon follow your instruction. Buttons open somewhat shakily. He rests his hands and waits to hear your next idle thought on what he should do for you. The outlines of these moments cross your mind slowly and meander to your imagination. You don’t have the patience for gardening. You do have the patience to capture some of Namjoon’s beauty for yourself.  

SEOKJIN ➜

note | blindfolds

Your coworkers have met him at parties. Seokjin is a friendly, handsome man with savoir faire. A creative list of salacious reasons a man like that would drop his career forms behind your back. Seokjin scoffs when you relay gossip to him. He’s especially fond of the idea he’s a criminal witness skirting discovery. Trying the hobbies he never had time for, taking his little cousins to the aquarium, fishing weekends, signing up for classes at the local university, streaming liveplays out of his gaming room or cooking tutorials out of the fancy kitchen you funded—Seokjin savors it all with fresh-faced enthusiasm. Some days he just takes out the trash, folds laundry, edges himself, gets bored, catnaps, and checks his phone to see if you can call because he’s lonely today and nothing he could do compares to hearing his wife tell him what’s on her mind. There is an unwieldy desire inside Seokjin, despite it all. He needs to demonstrate the ways he cherishes, protects, and provides for you. Sometimes, it’s being the person you need to tell about your day. It’s being the person who cooks your comfort foods, provides warm hugs, queues your shows, and takes you on dates. Most often, it’s your kiss on his forehead as you adjust the blindfold and praise him sweetly. “You’re the reason,” you remind him with another kiss, “that I’m always smiling when I think about home.”

[otterskin]

Pet Peeves in Thor Stuff

Inspired by a few posts doing this, so thought I’d vent and get it out here.

1. MCU Loki’s Name

I don’t care what the fan-run wikis say. All the official MCU material, including the text of the actual movies themselves, call him Loki Odinson or, for a brief period, Loki of Asgard. Loki Laufeyson is the name of a character from Marvel comics, and him having that name makes sense for that character’s backstory, which is very, very different from ‘adopted at birth and a late discovery’ MCU Loki. Incidentally, Norse Mythology Loki is not Loki Laufeyson, he’s Loki Laufeyjarson, which is a matronym because Laufey is his mother in most Norse Myths.

Loki in Thor 1 was Loki Odinson, Avengers was Loki of Asgard, and he certainly seemed fond of Odin again in Ragnarok and officially reclaimed the title Odinson in IW. He’s called Odinson over and over again in official Marvel publications such as the illustrated dictionary. Please stop using the wrong name. It’s weird and wrong to assume his name MUST default to his birth-father’s upon discovery of adoption, no matter what he’d been called his whole life. Especially when I think it’s pretty clear that Loki vehemently rejects any relationship with that namesake. He literally murdered Laufey to prove to Odin he had only one father, I don’t know how he could be more clear about his preferences.

And yes, I do think that this invalidates the fan-wikis as good sources of information. If they can’t get a name right, you probably shouldn’t trust anything in the article below it. Stick with canon publications.

2. The Transformation Spell

And heck, while we’re on this page, yes, the spell keeping Loki Asgardian is Odin’s. I don’t mind fanfic that posits a different origin, because hey, we’re just trying to have fun here, do what you want and I’ve probably read a lot of it already - but this is the canon explanation, please stop messaging me to tell me I’m wrong when I say it’s Odin’s spell doing it. Also, the reason it didn’t break when Odin died is because magic can outlive the caster, as Doctor Strange said. This ain’t the Phantom Menace.

(Incidentally, this dictionary is fun and even has entries for Huginn and Muninn!)

3. Step-brothers and Half-brothers are different things and neither is correct for Thor and Loki’s relationship. Nor is Odin Loki’s step-father.

I don’t see this in the Thor Fandom much, it’s more in articles and reviews I’ve read, but it’s kinda appalling how people don’t know the difference between brothers, step-brothers, half-brothers, and blood-brothers. Not being sure who your second cousin twice removed is I get, but I would hope that these are much more commonly understood. Just to get it off my chest, even though I’m sure no-one reading has ever thought different -

Step-brothers are when two unrelated families are joined by marriage. The children share no biological parents, but their parents are married. Unless Odin married Laufey at some point, he is not Loki’s step-father, and Thor is not Loki’s step-brother. (I mean, Odin’s had a long and probably very interesting and mysterious life, so I suppose it’s POSSIBLE he had a real bender at one point, but even if he had a Vegas wedding to the King of the Frost Giants and then decided to throw away the ring as if nothing had happened, the relationship he has with Loki has always been identified as ‘Father’).

Half-brothers are when children share one biological parent, but not two. So unless that bender with Laufey got REALLY crazy, Loki is not Thor’s half-brother either.

Blood-brothers - So some people will use this phrase to refer to people who are related by blood, but that’s sort of an older phrase. However, for most elementary school kids and in the context of Norse Mythology, it has another meaning - two people, unrelated by birth, who undergo a ceremony that involves blood mixing as an oath of brotherhood. Norse-Myth Loki is usually depicted as blood-brothers with Odin (and, in a few rare stories I read, with Thor, instead, but that’s a long story about how Thor was slowly starting to replace Odin as chief patriarch and therefore subsuming a lot of his traits and relationships). However, in the MCU, neither of these meanings currently applies to Thor and Loki. They are not blood related, and they’ve not undergone any blood oath ceremony either (although you can bet your briskets I’d LOVE to see that and it’s been in my general prediction box/wish-list since 2011. Imagine how happy it’d make us to see Thor and Loki choose to have their relationship, rather than feeling like it was Odin’s decision and they’re just living with it.).

Brothers - if in doubt about any brotherly relationship, just say this and you won’t be wrong. Thor and Loki are brothers, or adopted brothers, full stop. So no more step-half-blood nonsense.

And to be clear, if you’re writing fanfic that re-imagines this relationship, this is in no way directed at you. I’m more venting at the dearth of articles, presumably written by university graduates with an English degree, who can’t seem to keep this straight.

4. Brother is a Proper Noun

While I’m on this brother train, a small grammatical note - ‘Father’, ‘Mother’, and ‘Brother’, if being used in place of a name, are proper nouns, which means they’re capitalized.

Ex. “Stop smearing your booger on my shirt, Brother.”

It’s not capitalized if it’s not being used in place of a name, but is simply referring to the noun.

Ex. 2 “My brother once ate a whole goat without noticing it was still alive.”

Ex. 3 “I never knew we had a sister.”

Sorry, sorry - but I see this mistake a lot while I’m reading and I daresay I make it myself all the time!

5. Frigga isn’t perfect

Real talk, one of my least favourite tropes in fiction is ‘Woman on a Pedestal’. I really feel it denies female characters agency if they’re made out to be perfect lovely angels loved by everyone. I’ve read a ton of great fics that explore the flaws Frigga is suggested to have in the MCU but never got the screen time to deal with, and they are some of my favourites. I’ve also read a ton where she’s endlessly patient, wise, righteous, and oh-so-much-better than that heartless Odin or oaf Thor, if only she’d been in charge the whole time, nothing would have gone wrong! It’s a matter of taste and I’d never tell anyone to not write what makes them happy, but I really do think Frigga’s a better character when you engage with her mistakes and oversights and less-than-noble aspects. Women in the MCU have really gotten a short shaft when it comes to character arcs, flaws, and general humanity. Almost all the mothers are on pedestals in it, and with that comes a lack of introspection. Frigga could be argued to be in that category, but at least there is some material to suggest her imperfections that can be exploited. (Unlike Quill and Stark’s mothers, say.)

I leave it up to everyone to interpret the character for themselves, but for me her weaknesses are that she

tends to deflect blame for her choices onto others, particularly Odin.

sometimes acts to smooth things over without really acknowledging hurt, either caused or experienced.

has a manipulative streak and isn’t afraid to leverage her sons’ affection for her to get them to do what she wants, which is often ‘smoothing things over’.

probably spoiled her kids a bit

has an allergy to giant knives

Personally I like these things about her. They come from her life as a peace-maker, both in her role as a politician and a Queen and in her role in the family. She’s loyal, clever, witty, a confidant, and had the best scene in Endgame by a long mile. Frigga is the mom we’ve seen the most of, and I would love to see more in any form.

AH.... that felt good. I might do another post on my problems with how Thor is sometimes portrayed, but that’s a whole other, very personal, thing. Thanks for reading this dumb thing.