#why are we as women still putting up with men who don't spare a second thought about their partners

[hairtusk]

just saw a video on the dash of a woman who was recovering from shoulder surgery and she was having to change the sheets on a king size bed alone because her husband didn't think to do the laundry. where are you finding these men AND more importantly why are you building lives with them

[a-secret-bolton-vampire]

CW: Misogyny

(This is not an essay. This is a manic-induced rant about the fandom.)

HotD time soon, which means the dudebros will be out and about shaking their firsts cursing Sara Hess (who apparently is to blame for everything bad and must be removed from the show at all costs cuz she rightfully did not understand why people defend Daemon's actions) for hating men or whatever manufactured outrage they'll cook up next...

So, let's talk about what the show is not about first. It is not a misandrist piece of media that says men evil women good. That's so blatantly false it's genuinely baffling to me how anyone can reach that conclusion. It is also not about how the Blacks are better than the Greens or that the writers have a bias (what writer doesn't have a bias? I know I do). Remember, the Blacks and Greens are not real. This is fiction.

Yes, we get emotionally attached to characters (as I have) but there is no slander or character assassination going on. Hell, these characters literally have zero characterization (and sometimes contradictory characterization) in Fire & Blood. The writers haven't gone on twitter to cancel Aegon because he said something controversial. Because they are characters and they serve a purpose in the story, whether good people or not.

Now, let's talk about the way the fandom doesn't get certain themes. There is this recurring motif that the men want war and the women want peace. Think about it for maybe two seconds. In this very patriarchal gendered world, men are expected to be tough, hold in their emotions, be warriors and fighters. While war is considered maybe not ideal, knights are revered and men still have a particular expectation in this society.

Naturally, the toxic masculinity of Westeros is going to make quite an impression on some of the male characters in the show; Aegon, Aemond, Criston, Daemon. Mix that with their numerous neuroses and you don't get the most peaceful, calm, and rational people in the world.

Even disregarding that, there is a more thematic reason why the show went this direction. It explores the way patriarchy is an inherently violent, self-destructive system. Rhaenyra and Alicent, despite being in positions of power, are restricted by what the men around them allow them to do. This in turn adds to the tragedy of them trying to desperately avoid war even though it is unavoidable. It's sad, it's frustrating, and it's showing the flaws of the system.

This leads into a discussion for Alicent and Rhaenyra. The fandom is completely normal and not insane about these two. There is a lot of criticism about the characters being too "perfect", and that they lack agency and thus are less compelling than their book counterparts. There is so much to unpack here so lets take them one at a time.

No, Alicent and Rhaenyra are not perfect. Both make a ton of mistakes, do awful things, all the while they try to be decent and honourable. Rhaenyra has lied and killed for her own gain. She spared Laenor, but still killed an innocent servant and caused a massive deal of grief for the Velaryons by making them believe their son was dead. Not saying she is the worst person ever, but that was a pretty big political mistake even if she needed Daemon to be her sword to wield.

Alicent too is imperfect. I have so much sympathy for her and Rhaenyra, which is good since they are the two people at the core of the story, and being sympathetic is a very good trait to have in a protagonist! For me the biggest highlight of all is the way she treats her children. She is abusive. They do not feel that unconditional love from her. Aegon especially had a raw deal, with the way she not only verbally and emotionally abuse him and put immense pressure on him to becoming king, but also the way she physically abuses him. He's probably got PTSD from a lifetime of parental abuse (a lot of what Alicent and Viserys do to their children is something I have personally experienced with my own parents). This isn't even mentioning Helaena or Aemond. All of her and Viserys's children are like this. It's a huge, huge flaw of hers.

Now, what about agency? Alicent and Rhaenyra lack agency and they can't be the bad bitches like Cersei before them. I'm just gonna say it: I am glad they aren't like Cersei.

This is a story that, at its core, is about patriarchy and misogyny. Anyone who says that is not present in the book is honestly delusional or stupid. Is it the only theme of this story? No! But is it a major theme? Yes! It can still be about this and something else too! But anyways, the complaining about "lack of agency" is so weird considering this. Did we not watch the same episode 9? I feel like I took crazy pills with everyone talking about the "inconsistency" of Alicent's character.

Genuinely, this is such a pervasive idea in the fandom and it drives me insane trying to figure out how they missed the fucking point of episode 9! Or to explain more calmly, that was an episode of Alicent trying to regain agency. When she is upset by the Green Council, it is not because she doesn't want to crown Aegon. The opposite actually. She is upset they plotted behind her back without her input, and so the race to find Aegon is the race to find who will ultimately influence the king. Alicent finds him first and Otto accepts defeat.

And yet in the end her actual influence is in question. Because Alicent is trying to work within the confines of a patriarchal system, which further restricts her actual agency. This is a Shakespearean tragedy, and Alicent's own decisions ultimately spell her doom (based on what we have been told of season 2, which I will get to later).

Here is the thing: in exploring a show about misogyny, you do not need the characters to be triumphant. The story of the Dance is not a story of triumph. It is a story of trauma, bad decision making, bloodlust, and loss. To think this is gonna be a story about how Alicent and Rhaenyra stick a middle finger to the patriarchy is a fundamental misunderstanding. Instead, this is a show about how patriarchy is not a stable or rational system of power structure. Having Alicent and Rhaenyra have to claw their way to have agency is the fucking point.

Also I might add that in the book neither character actually displays much agency. Rhaenyra sits around and cries while her son makes the big decisions, and Alicent just disappears from the story after Aegon is crowned. What "agency" is there to be had? I have a sneaking suspicion that chuds don't like Alicent or Rhaenyra not being misogynistic caricatures...

People say that women should be rich, complex characters all on their own and then want them being literal caricatures of what misogynists view women in power as. That is not complexity. Saying "mayhaps the whore will die in childbirth" is not complexity. That's just Alicent being an asshole. Rhaenyra's entire character going "this is my birthright and I will have my brother's head!" is not complexity. "Rhaenyra not leading is the point" is not complexity.

As much as I really don't like Fire & Blood, even I am aware that the book is bias due to the perspective of the maesters that wrote it in-universe (and yes the book is the book and the show is the show but I'm making a point). Women are often smeared in the histories, and even today men pay much closer attention to any real or perceived faults women have and hone in on that with intense scrutiny men don't usually have to worry about (especially women who go outside gender norms).

This bizarre call to make Alicent and Rhaenyra more unlikable because "muh complexity" is nonsensical because it's asking to fall into the same stereotypes about women the book does (uncaring power-seeking bitches who are incapable of friendship and have uncontrollable emotions).

On that note, Rhaenyra and Alicent's old friendship is the best change made book to show. There is an extra layer of tragedy to it all and makes the characters a lot more complex. But wait, isn't the war between Aegon and Rhaenyra? Why is this Hightower whore stealing the spotlight on my war crime king?

No no no. This is another misunderstanding. The war is between Rhaenyra and Aegon, yes. That is how everyone remembers it. Aegon is a character I actually quite adore for just how messy and utterly vile he is. I can't wait to see him in action. But there is no relationship between Aegon and Rhaenyra. Not in the show, and definitely not in the book either. The main rivalry has always been Rhaenyra and Alicent.

This is in Fire & Blood. Who created the Blacks and who created the Greens? Rhaenyra and Alicent. Who has an established relationship and history (as badly written as it is)? Rhaenyra and Alicent? What was the novella in which the Dance is first described called? The Princess and the Queen. The war may be between Queen Rhaenyra and King Aegon II, but the rivalry has always been focused on Rhaenyra and Alicent. This insistence to remove Alicent off the promotional posters and place Aegon is... kind of misogynistic? Like, Alicent is narratively more important to the story and people want to replace her with her son who, while important, is not as important?

And also, you can like Aegon and want to see him have a larger role. I know I do, even if he is a fucking bastard. You can dislike the show or what I said for any number of reasons. Some people who aren't raging misogynists have perfectly valid reasons to dislike it. I'm just explaining about the most vile part of the fandom that grinds my gears so badly it hurts.

Also, I'm not even going to go into the whole Team Black/Team Green thing. All I'll say about it is: I hope they all look sexy while doing war crimes <3

[1016anon]

Title: Tainted Love Author: 1016anon Fandom: Bridgerton Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma

A/N -- The end.

-8-

Did you hear?

They whispered in the pubs and clubs, a supernatural chill running through them.

The Blind Ghost's entire family went to the country and all of them were murdered at their country house.

Their eyes gouged out?

That's what I read in the newspapers.  Eight went in and no one came out.

No, there was one survivor.  Nine went to Kent, but they only found eight bodies.

Which one was missing?

The oldest one.

The oldest one's the Viscount.

I mean the oldest one alive after the Blind Man was executed.  Lord Benjamin Bridgerton.

I read there were eight at the house: the Viscount's wife, and he had four brothers and three sisters.

The Times says the Viscountess wasn't there, she was arrested by the constable.

Stop reading the Times, they don't know anything.  Everyone knows the constable in Kent was killed by the Blind Ghost.  They had to send a special investigator from London to take over the job.

So which one was it who came out alive?

I told you, the second oldest-- the spare.

All of them were killed.  No one left that place-- the Blind Ghost put a curse on it.

Here, says right here in the paper: eight found dead.

Do they give the names?

Doesn't say.  Just says "the bodies of four women were discovered, out of eight bodies total."

Then the other four were men.

Wait a minute, wait a minute.  This one here reports, "Authorities couldn't determine the gender of two bodies because they were skeletons."

I don't think the papers know anything because mine says different, too.

What's yours say?

Says that they found five women and three men.

Where?  I don't see it.

Right here.

Five women?  Who's the fifth woman?

That older one.  The mum.

Five women: there's the three sisters, the mum, and the Blind Ghost's wife.

Then the three men must be the brothers.

That's all of them counted for.

No, you got it wrong.  The Blind Ghost had four sisters and three brothers, I saw all of them at the trial.

You saw the trial?  What was it like?

Let's just say I'm glad the Ghost's back in hell where he belongs.

But any way you slice it, there's one person missing.

It still can't be the spare missing.  If there were three brothers and three men dead, who's the other man?

We don't know it was three men dead.  Could've been six women and two men.

Maybe it was the Blind Ghost's wife who got away.  Did they find her body?

Doesn't say.  What's it say in yours?

Doesn't say here either.

I say it must've been the Blind Ghost's wife who got away.  She killed them all.

Does it matter?  Far as I'm concerned, it's a good thing that family's gone from the earth.  We can finally put all this murder to rest.

Don't speak ill of the dead.

It matters because if there were nine at the house and only eight bodies, then one of them survived.

But which one?

I still say it doesn't matter.  There haven't been any more murders.  Now I don't have to jump at every shadow I see at night.

Now you've done it.

Done what?

You've jinxed us.

I haven't jinxed us!

This time next week, they're going to find another body, eyes gouged out.  Mark my words.  This isn't over yet.

Oh shut up.

--

Benedict remembered the night before Anthony's wedding, his brother had been acting strangely.  At the time, he'd just attributed it to wedding nerves, but staring now at the ghastly tableau of his ghost brother and a still-living Kate, Benedict realized it was something else entirely.

"Have you always been like this?" he asked, stunned that he hadn't seen it before.

"Who?  Me?  Or my wife?"

Anthony's arm was possessive around Kate-- Anthony had always been ridiculously possessive of Kate.  And now Benedict understood why:  It was a rare woman who discovered her husband was a serial murderer and instead of running away, joined him in the hunt.

"Never mind, I think I know the answer to that question," Benedict grumbled.  "Do you want to tell me why you've resorted to all this?"

"That depends, Brother-- do you want to know?" Anthony tilted his head.

It was a genuine question.

Kate watched Benedict with a surprising lack of expectation.  Usually her eyes were sharp and keen, taking in every movement and filing away every word.

"Well apparently you both have something to tell me about myself that I didn't know," Benedict snapped at them, a little peeved.  "Some notice would have been nice."

"Oh, Benedict, you knew," Kate replied.  "You simply never felt the urge to express it."

"So this is your idea of an opportunity?"

"Think of it more as a parting gift," Anthony said, eyes gleaming with a strangely comforting malice.

Comforting, because it was familiar and wasn't directed at Benedict; it was just the way Anthony looked at the world.  People had different names for it: intense, focused, hyperfocused, obsessed, angry, fixated, terrifying, terrible, hungry, unsettling.  Insane.

"You... want me to murder our brothers."

"Or you can watch, we don't mind either way," Anthony shrugged.

"And if I don't?"

Kate rolled her eyes.

"This is why Anthony is the first son and you are the second."

"That's a bit of a chicken-and-the-egg situation there, darling," her husband teased.

Benedict was about to say something smart when his attention was diverted.

"Are Col and Greg saying something?  Their mouths are moving."

"Oh," Anthony waved his hand.

There was a bit of pleading for all of a second before the sound cut off again.

"It gets rather tiring.  Usually we have to gag them, but since I have this wonderful new ability, I thought I'd take advantage of it."

Anthony proceeded to flick his fingers back and forth, turning the sound on and off like a child playing with an upturned beetle.

Kate grabbed his wrist to make him stop.  He simply grinned down at her and kissed her frown.

"Unbelievable, the two of you," Benedict shook his head.  "You're dead and you're still living and you're both still like this."

"Well," Anthony traced Kate's lower lip with his thumb.  "I love her."

Benedict rolled his eyes.

Then his expression grew serious.

"What if I don't."

"Don't what?"

"Murder our brothers."

"Ah, well," Anthony made a show of mulling it over.  "I suppose I shall have to kill them, then kill you."

"No chance you could just kill them for me?"

"You can't put it off forever, Brother.  You'll have to get your hands dirty at some point."

"So, I'd like to make sure I'm understanding you correctly.  You couldn't be bothered to leave me notes on how to manage the estate, but you were willing to come back from the dead to coach me through my first murders."

"Aside from the fact that I didn't return for you, I would say, yes.  That sums it up rather well."

"I'm glad you could fit me into your busy schedule."

"I will always make time for my favorite brother."

"Soon to be your only brother."

"That's the spirit!"

"I'd hoped the puns had died with you."

"As I told my wife, death has changed very little of who I am."

"If the two of you are finished, I have a gift for you, Benedict."

"Am I going to like this gift?" he asked with a bit of trepidation.

Kate held out a folding knife.

"At the risk of sounding stupid-- what is this?" Benedict asked.

"Have you had this with you the entire time?" Anthony demanded.

"I found it the other day," Kate said.  "It's Anthony's first knife."

"Technically, it's the first knife I bought for the specific purpose of murdering people."

"I thought Father gave you that knife for your seventeenth birthday."

"Father wouldn't know a knife of quality if it slit his throat.  The handle of that one snapped.  This one is magnificently crafted."

Kate put it in Benedict's hand, then turned to Anthony.

"Husband."

"Yes, my dear Wife?"

"I think your brother needs to begin cleanly.  Simply, only the basics.  Knives require a certain killing mindset, and you are asking him to kill your brothers."

"Excellent point."

Anthony looked around the room for a suitable beginner murder weapon.  He and Kate were both quite pleased when Benedict chose his own.

"That will do very nicely," Anthony smiled with approval.

Benedict felt an absurd sense of pride-- he'd chosen the wrought iron poker.  It had quite a bit of heft to it; one blow to the head and it would be done.

Then, looking at a silent Colin and Gregory, both crying and cowering with no sound coming out of their mouths, he hesitated.

"Benedict," Kate said, voice soft and stern.  "They tried to kill you, for a decision Anthony made."

He wondered what they were saying-- his brothers.

"Gregory was going to kill me because they thought I exerted too much influence over you."

He wondered if they were sorry.

Anthony followed the direction of his gaze.  He sneered, demonic and savage.

"Colin didn't succeed only because he was too stupid to slit your throat," Anthony spat.  "But I can assure you, he didn't hesitate to bring the knife down."

He still needed--

"Don't make it complicated, Benedict.  Murder is simple."

"You and Kate were the only ones to stand by me," Anthony tilted his head.  "Why do you think that is?"

He stared at the poker, white noise in his head.

"You're like us.  You've been a murderer all along-- the only difference is that now you know it."

Put that way, Kate was right.

It was simple.

--

Darling, I'll see you in hell.

--

Anthony plunged the dagger into her heart, staring into her eyes, watching with tender greed as her life drained out with each tortured beat.

A tornado roared around them-- glass shattered, cabinets broken, paintings torn, the bodies of his brothers lifeless on the floor-- and he and Kate in the center of it all.

His hand was warm on her chest, his arm keeping her upright as her body grew weaker, as she leaned further and further into him, back arching in an exquisite curve, neck exposed like a sacrifice.

She never looked away, his Kate.

His Viscountess, the love of his life-- the only person he could not kill, now dying in his arms.

He kissed her to steal her last breath.  And when her body went slack, eyes closing and hand letting go of his, he inhaled deeply along her neck, finally able to sate the hunger for her scent one last time.

Anthony brushed her hair back, smiling fondly at her corpse.

She was so beautiful, his wife.

A man could never ask for more than such devotion.

He carried her to their favorite corner of the woods, where she'd buried his ashes.  Anthony set her on top of his grave-- their grave now.  The last resting place for their mortal bodies.

He pulled the dagger from her chest and stabbed it into the ground: a marker.  The last set of pins he'd ever given her.

She looked like she was sleeping.

She looked like she was waiting: he'd dawdled long enough.

Time to go.

Anthony knelt by her corpse and kissed her.

Stood and looked east.

The sun was rising.

Almost home, my love. I'm coming to you.

[kayxleeee]

Steve Rogers: The Man Out Of Time (Steve Rogers x Reader!)

Warning: NONE! FLUFFFFFFF Just Sad Steve and a moment of a nosey Romanoff .

A/N: Love this one to death! Still contemplating on if I should make  a second part.

Summary: After the teams attempt to try and stop Ultron and failing horribly, you all find yourselves at the Barton’s Family farm. Steve is shooken up about his vision, and is  reflecting on the life that he will never have. This was a side of Cap you never  really seen before, he had never been this venerable with anyone. He was the one who held the team together and called everyone out on their bullshit. You find yourself consoling him, possibly blossoming a friendship into something more. 

Word Count: 1k+

“Hey you.” You say standing in the doorway of the Barton’s spare bedroom. 

“Hi.” Steve says lowly not looking up at you. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, visibly upset looking down at his already folded hands. 

“What happened out there ?” You say referring to the squabble he and Tony had while breaking down wood for Laura. Steve got pretty pissed very quickly, which was kinda unusual for him, since he has always been the level headed one.

“It was nothing, I’m fine.” He sighs not breaking his focused gaze from his hands.

“Oh yeah, I can totally tell you are Steve. Just a typical ray of sunshine.” You say sarcastically hoping to lighten his mood. 

The situation with Ultron was spiraling out of control, and that witch bitch only made matters  one-hundred percent worse. From the visions, to the ambush, to the media buzz, you weren’t sure if the avengers would even recover. It was obvious that this new mission to stop Ultron was too much for even the strongest of the bunch, which was understandable, but still alarming.

“Come on.” You sigh leaning against the doorframe crossing your arms trying to examine his face. “You can talk to me, you don’t always have to be the most levelheaded one in the room. And plus I won’t leave you alone unless you tell me what’s up.”

“Now that I can believe.” He huffs out a small chuckle looking up at you, then takes a deep breath. “It’s all just a bit overwhelming.” He admits.

“Yeah I know this all may seem like a lot, but Tony meant well by building Ultron. He—“

“That’s—that’s something we can fix.” He says shaking his head. “I wasn’t, I mean I’m not that worried about Ultron because I have faith we will win that fight.” He says this then looks back down at his hands in his lap. “We just gotta figure out how.”

You sigh as you look at him confused hoping that he’d continue and share his thoughts. You were relived that he was ready to fight Ultron, together, and glad he had faith that the team would win; But if it wasn't Tony creating Ultron that bothered him it was something so much bigger. 

It was the vision. 

This made you gravely concerned about what he saw, what could be making him react this way, so solemn and hot headed. You walk all the way into the small farm house bedroom and sit next to him on the full sized bed, putting a hand over his own.

“Steve, talk to me.” You encourage him in a soft voice, giving his hand a squeeze. 

This was all very knew territory, so you were shocked when he looked up at you through glossy eyes, before opening his mouth to speak again.

“I just can’t get it out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“About what Steve? The vision? Because that’s what they want, the twins, Ultron, they want us all to be off our game Steve. None of what you saw was real.” You say reassuring him by caressing your thumb over his hands.

“That’s the problem, it wasn’t real...but it- I’m the man out of time.”

“The man out of time?” You question repeating after him. You frown at the dumb catch phrase everyone seemed to use to describe Steve as. “What did you see?”

“I was with… with, her.” He sighs getting up from his position on the bed and walking over to the window. “It’s this, this whole secret life Bartons been living.” He pushed the cream colored curtains aside slightly gazing out the window. “I just wish that things could be different, that maybe I could… be happy like them.”

It dawned on you finally why he was upset. Steve never got the opportunity to live his life, in his time. He was so busy trying to prove himself or be the person everyone else wanted him to be. When he finally got a chance to show what he was made of— well he obviously got he short end of the stick. And now, well he’s so busy saving the world he’s barley even gotten a chance to live it now. He has told you about Peggy once or twice  and how he fell in one with her, but you never thought he’d be so upset now.

“Steve…” You say not necessarily knowing what to say. You get up from the bed and walk over to him putting a hand on his shoulder. You turn your gaze outside the window to see Laura and Clint cuddle up on their yard, watching their children play. 

He lets out a sigh. “That witch, the girl, the vision she gave me. It just felt so real,” He takes a deep breathe and turns to you. “I’ll never have that and the vision, it just made me think of just how much I missed… how much I’m missing.” 

You sigh and decide to pull him into a hug immediately. You couldn't even try to pretend to know what he was going through. He doesn’t hug back right away, but in time he does. He rest his chin on the top of your head  and holds you tight taking a deep breath inhaling shakily as you rub circles around his back. The two of you stay like this for a moment, while you gathered the correct words that you wanted to say, without making him feel worse. You hoped he didn’t mind your silence  and  hoped that maybe he needed this quiet and this closeness, just to feel someone was there with him.

After a few more moments you finally speak still holding on to him.

 “Steve, you’re not a man out of time, I really hate that saying. It literally makes no sense to me because - not the point. What I am trying to say is you have multiple people here in this time who care about you and want to see the best for you,  myself included.” You finally say as you pull away from him slightly so that you were able to get a good look at his face.” I think I’m the one rooting for you the most.”

It was true, you heavily looked up to Steve, and not just because he was taller or because he was the leader... But because he was truly a good man and always had good intentions.  You would follow him into the trenches if he told you to, that's how much you trusted him and this is why it hurt you to see him so distraught. 

 You continue to speak. “I love you Steve, I really do, but your problem is you put the needs of others before your own.” You look at him as he looks at you, his blue eyes peering into your own as the wheels in his head begin to turn. You continue, “Honestly tell me, have you ever asked yourself what you wanted and just let yourself have it?” 

He’s now looking  at you in shock or confusion, either way his eyes were peering hard into yours as he thinks for a moment. 

He frowns and shake his head no, then says, “I guess not… I’ve been so wrapped up in saving the world, I never really got a chance.” He says this with his hands still comfortably wrapped around you.

“Well I think you oughta think about that one mister.” You say giving him a smile and a quick peck on the cheek, about to pull him back in for another hug—

“Oh there you two are.” Natasha says as she peeps her head into the  door way. You both turn to her still very close to one another. Her face goes from flat, too surprised, then back to normal. The two of you let go of each and move apart. You were calm, while Steve looked embarrassed.

“Don't stop on my account love birds.” She says with a smirk.

“ Everything alright Natasha?” Steve says clearing his throat trying to ignore her comment.

The smirk never leaves her face and she shakes her head “Fury is here, meeting in 5.” She says popping her head out just as fast as she popped in.

“Love birds? Jeez you’d think men and women can’t be just friends.” You scoff shaking your head looking at Steve who was turning red.

“Well… that’s Natasha for you.” He says kinda sounding awkward.

You continue, “She’s one to talk, have you seen the eyes her and Banner have been givin each other ? It’s gross.” You laugh.

“Yeah, we better get out there then…” He drifts seeming as if he wants to drop the conversation entirely.

“We should.” You say now feeling uneasy at Steve’s awkwardness, but decide to backtrack quickly before heading out of the room by saying, “ Hey listen, I still want you to think about what you want Steve. Really think about it and then just go for it!” You say emphasizing the word you.

“Thanks for this (Y/n), I think I have somewhat of a idea of what that is now.” He stares at you for a moment more, then looks away. Which surprisingly gave you butterflies because he had never looked at you that way before, it was different.

“Well- that, that  was easy enough.” You fumble on your words before taking a deep breath and gaining your composure. “ Will you share with the class anytime soon?” You say trying to ignore the feeling as your face heats up.

“Maybe later.” He says with a sincere smile. “Sometimes it’s just nice to know I have people here for me.” He shoves his hands in his pocket and nods his head towards the doo. “Let’s go.”

“Of course Steve.” You nod feeling relived, that he was feeling better. You walk towards the door with him close behind. “Maybe we can set you up with a secret farm too.” You chuckle a bit.

“Oh shut up.” He says throwing his head back with a chuckle realizing you were what he needed.

“Do you like goats and stuff?” You laugh.

“(Y/n)!” He chuckles again as you both walk down the hallway into the living room where the meeting was being held.

-

Thoughts, Comments,  or Opinions :)

[arsenicpanda]

Hey! You seem to ship fairly similar Riverdale pairings to me, so do you have any fanfic ideas? Unfortunately, I have writers block and I don't have access to any maple mushrooms to get through this one.

So, I do have a few that don't fall under "I actually want to write this myself", you are correct, and I am a wordy bitch, so let's put this under a cut

-Jabitha + Jughead and Veronica friendship post-college au: so, we diverge from canon in 5x03. Betty still leaves Riverdale, but Veronica stays, and she and Jughead slowly bond over film, pretentious references, criminal fathers, and the whole getting cheated on thing. Maybe throw in Reggie and the other Serpents too if you want to. When Jughead becomes homeless (again), Veronica eventually notices and invites him to stay with her, and it's awkward at first, but then they get used to it. They develop a brother-sister bond. So, then when they go off to college, they keep in touch and stay friends. Their friendship keeps Jughead from being supes lonely at college, which means he stays and learns how to actually fucking write, so his book is actually good and not just successful, and also he doesn't take up drinking and drugs. And their friendship also keeps Veronica from dating assholes like Chad, so she never even gets close to that terrible marriage. But after they graduate, Jughead moves to NYC and they live together and she becomes the she-wolf of Wall Street and he becomes a successful author (genre undetermined) and maybe also journalist (look, I am just too fond of this headcanon, and most authors need second jobs anyway), and neither of them pine over their exes. Veronica can settle down with Reggie, Josie, Katy Keene, or someone else or no one else, but she is successful and happy. Also, Tabitha goes to school in NYC, settles down there, works a six-figure job for a while, and then opens a Pop's franchise. Now, it can go two ways from here:

Veronica and Tabitha become friends in college. Veronica keeps trying to set Jughead and Tabitha up with different people she knows to no success (she keeps trying to set both of them up with intimidating women (partial success and bi Tabitha 4 life) and himbos (zero success, they both prefer smart people, and also bi Jughead 4 life), until one day she's complaining about it to Katy Keene or Reggie or Josie or someone and the other person is like "V, why don't you just set them up with each other?" And she's like "ohhhhh" and she does, and they either hit it off pretty quickly or Tabitha is like "wait, are you the guy who mooched off my grandpa for years??" And he's like "pardon??" And she dislikes him until he proves himself/Veronica explains the situation (Jughead was neglected and poor and Pop helped him out). But then they get along and swap stories about Pop and fall into some weird investigation and fall in love, and Veronica is like "Victory is mine!"

Tabitha starts franchising Pop's in NYC, and when Jughead finds out he's like "sus, very sus" and goes there and eats and is like ".....this is actually pretty spot-on". And he becomes a regular (who actually orders food and pays because he can now), and Tabitha is supervising the diner for a time, and they start to chat on late nights when he's the only customer left but the diner isn't scheduled to close for another two hours, so Tabitha could use the company. Jughead doesn't realize she's Pop's granddaughter, and Tabitha doesn't realize he's her grandpa's favorite customer (and known moocher, in her opinion), and when they find out, they're both very shocked. They clear up the moocher thing and keep falling in love, and it's beautiful, and Veronica spends some her spare time prying into Jughead's newest late-night haunt and then teasing him about his crush on the owner and later "of course you fell for Pop's granddaughter, of course".

-Jabitha or bugabitha: Jughead cooks his tired (future?) girlfriend(s) dinner because yes, he does know how to cook because he loves food, so obviously he learned how to cook, and also he notices how much his girlfriend(s) work and wants to take care of them.

-Jabitha: Tabitha teaching Jughead how to cook some of Pop's recipes one late, slow night, and yes, they kiss at the end and/or when he makes her something on another late, slow night or slow afternoon or one morning when he opens and she shows up later

-Bugabitha: Tabitha needs help with a mystery/situation and goes to Betty and Jughead's PI agency to hire them (whether Betty and Jughead are together is up for grabs), and they are both charmed as fuck by her, and Tabitha tags along on the investigation for idk reasons, and they all fall in love and also solve a mystery

-Jabitha: smut/pwp of Jughead eating Tabitha out in Pop's while they're both still in uniform

-Jabith or Bugabith: like three students trip and fall into being way too invested in their teacher's/teachers' love life/lives and become convinced that something is going on between Jughead and Tabitha (and maybe also Betty) and start snooping while also documenting it on a popular "my English teacher is dating his other boss (and also my shop teacher)" or "my English teacher is two-timing his boss with my shop teacher" TikTok series that Jughead and Tabitha (and Betty) don't know about it until it goes viral after the kids finally get proof they're together / find out that it's not that Jughead's cheating with Betty and/or Tabitha's cheating with Betty but that the three of them are dating (see: that one fanart I commissioned of the Elite meme). Told from the kids' pov, very comedy-heavy (more comedy than ship fluff, tbh), includes replies to the TikToks and other social media stuff. Still considering writing this myself, but I don't know if I'm funny enough, tbh

-Bugabitha: how they do or do not celebrate holidays and birthdays, especially if the holidays involving shuffling between/avoiding their families and Betty recounts the disaster that was Jughead's birthday in 1x10, right down to (lovingly) roasting him for the "I'm weird, I'm a weirdo" speech (she will be kind by including how sweet he was in the diner, of course)

-Bugabitha: Alice finally finds out that Betty, Jughead, and Tabitha are all dating when Betty moves out of the Cooper house and into an apartment with Jughead and Tabitha. It includes something like the following exchange, Alice's last-ditch effort to convince Betty not to do this:

"Elizabeth, you cannot think that moving in with your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend is wise."

"Mom, I'm not moving in with my ex and his girlfriend, I'm moving in with my boyfriend and my girlfriend, and you're making me late for lunch with them, bye." And then Betty leaves before Alice can respond

And then it's very important that Alice freaks out. If you want, you can also include FP and Gladys finding out (v chill) and Pop finding out (the most wholesome and supportive)

-Jabitha: Pop playing matchmaker with Jughead and Tabitha at any age, could be in an au where Tabitha comes to visit Pop every summer and Jughead kinda falls for her from afar as a teen, could be Jughead gets a job post-senior year at Pop’s during the summer when Tabitha is working there that summer, could be during the canon s5 or an au s5, could be any time, idk

- Jabitha, bughead, or bugabitha: Jughead's editor says that his novel needs a sex scene for whatever reason, idk, idc, but his POV character/narrator is a woman, and he's like "how do I write this without finding myself on one of those lists of 'men who can't write women?'" and bemoans this one day, and, idk, somehow his friend(s) Tabitha and/or Betty trip and fall into ~helping~ him by being very explicit and descriptive of how it feels while they bone

I think that’s it? Let’s say that’s it for now.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 05 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 2.5 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part (04)

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{Vikings Masterlist}

×

The Crippled And The Blind

The loud voices, laughter, and yells are echoing through the house. Ragnar is with a group of wanderers that just stopped by. He seems to be getting along with them since they're all very friendly and brought good things to trade. You have no intention of interrupting the conversation, so you stay on the inside. You make your way to the hanging table, sitting on it as usual. You're still softly swinging when you hear Ivar's unmistakable footsteps, and a small smile comes to your lips. You do try to push it back, but when he comes to your sight, it's still there, in full display.

“Won't you join the party?” He asks, coming to stand next to you by the table, his free hand holding on the chains.

“No. If I show up out there, Ragnar will introduce me as an England princess and I wouldn't want to steal all the attention he's been getting.” You answer in a sassy tone, shrugging your shoulders. “What about you? I bet they'd love to meet Ivar the Boneless.”

His smile only gets bigger, and a chuckle leaves his lips. Things with Ivar have been... Different. In the last weeks, you've been chatting a lot, more and more every day. But you're keeping a distance. The stories about Ivar reached your ears quickly, and you know he's dangerous. Still, it's getting hard to see that side of him when he's been treating you so... Kindly. It got people talking too. Hvitserk said Ivar is surprising him, acting like that. But you try not to overthink, and just take one day after the other and see how it happens. So far, you're enjoying your talking.

“Let the old man have it.” He mutters, pushing the wood and making you swing again. “I was planning on taking a walk on the beach.” Speaking slow, he smirks at you. “Wanna join me?”

Biting your lower lip, you nod, jumping to the ground. “Why not?”

You both go through one of the doors on the back, and you realize Ivar can keep a fast pace despite the clutch. The cold wind makes you brace yourself by the time you reach the sand, and you lightly rub your arms.

“Should've brought a warm cloak.” He mutters, glancing at you.

“I'm alright.” Pulling a strand of hair away from your face, you stop by a small boat. “What's the reason for this?”

“Reason?”

“Yeah.” Leaning your back against the boat, you shrug your shoulders. “You never invited me for anything like this.”

“Maybe it was because I never thought you'd accept.” Sighing, he sits on the sand, resting the clutch on his legs.

“And why would you think that?” Looking down at him, you cross your arms. “I thought we were somehow friends by now.” You're still unsure of where exactly you are with Ivar. With Hvitserk, it was almost instantly, and you've been good friends since day one. Ubbe took longer, but you have a nice relationship with him as well, even though you're not as close as you are with Hvitserk. But Ivar... It's different, you're still not quite sure why. “Or have I misread things?”

“I like to think we are friends, princess.” When you finally look at him, those blue eyes are already set on you.

With your cheeks burning, your heart starts beating faster, drumming on your ears. “We are.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and settling down beside him, looking at the ocean. The waves are strong today, loudly crashing on the sand.

“Good.” He bumps his shoulder against yours. “Not many women want to... Hang around with me.”

His statement makes you pinch your eyebrows together. “Why?” You can't imagine a reason for any girl not want to... What? Be around Ivar? Or maybe have some attention from him. Of course you can only speak for yourself, but the Vikings must be mesmerized by his strength. By the stories they tell about him. And on top of that, you're not blind. Ivar is handsome, very handsome. Any woman would love to get his eyes set on her.

“Isn't it obvious?” Ivar gestures at his legs and only then this ‘obvious’ come to your mind.

“Oh.” Staring at the metal clothed legs, you shake your head lightly. It never really got to you. It's not that you haven't noticed, but it never played an important part in your judgment of him.

“Bad news, princess. I'm a crippled.” He sing songs, his voice a lot darker.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you push your legs up, hugging your knees. “I know you're a crippled. But being honest, I don't see the problem.” It isn't hard to guess this affects him. Mostly being a Viking. You know he wishes he could rush through the battlefield, fighting, riding a strong horse. But he can't. It probably kills him inside.

“Then I'm the crippled and you're the blind.” He suddenly snaps, and when you look at him, he's shaking his head no. “Don't be stupid. Every woman here wants an Ubbe. Or a Bjorn. Standing tall and strong, well experienced by the many wars they–”

“You're tall.” Cutting him off, you elbow him. “And I know you can fight. People aren't terrified of you for no reason. So drop it, you're not less of a Viking just because you can't walk as other people can.”

He chuckles, and when his eyes meet yours, you suddenly notice the proximity. You're not that close, but you were never this close... “Are you joking?”

“No.” You honestly answer, smiling. “I get that people look at you and see the legs first. But I didn't. I...” Will you really tell him this? You've been lying and hiding so many things from people while on Wessex, and here, you want to do the exact opposite. You want to speak the truth, whatever the truth is because nobody will curse you for it. And maybe, it'll make Ivar feel better. “Actually, the first thing I noticed were your eyes.”

“Really?” Furrowing his eyebrows, you can tell he's not very convinced.

“Really.” You simply say.

“You're pretty stupid then.” Ivar bursts out, but, as much as you feel a little offended at first, you're quick to get the mocking tone behind it. “You see a crippled and the thing that gets your attention is the eye color.”

“I'll ignore the insult.” Nodding to yourself, you bite back a laugh, looking at the ocean again. “But if that's your opinion, I'll accept it.”

“You're both.”

“Both?”

“Both pretty and stupid.”

“I...” It takes a few seconds to process what he just said. You're still staring at the horizon, not brave enough to face those eyes, strong and bright, burning through your skin. Your cheeks are burning again, so you look down at your hands, hoping the hair that falls will hide your blushing face. “It goes both ways.” Taking a deep breath, you stand up, dusting off the sand from your dress. “You're as stupid as you're handsome.” Sustaining his stare for a while, watching as his face light up and a smile comes to his lips, you turn your back at him, walking away. You hear a giggle, but decide to ignore it.

“I didn't know you could be sassy.” Ivar raises his voice to make himself heard through the growing distance you're putting in between the two of you.

“You don't know me, dear.” Turning around and walking backward, you smile. “What? Do you think chatting during the meals is enough? You have no idea who I am.”

“Who knows? Maybe we can change that.”

“Maybe.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give your back at him and leave the beach.

The next hours you spend with Aslaug, as she complains about the wanderers. They're nothing like this other man who came by years ago, she says. They're too loud for her taste, too rude. And, since it's a Viking complaining about those things, she might be right. But, despite all that, she still attends to the feast Ragnar insisted on giving. You already know that people here don't really need a reason to cook insane amounts of food and invite everyone over to eat and dance and party until the sun is about to rise again. So you join them.

The celebration has been going on for quite a while now, a few hours went by since you showed up. You already ate, so now, drinking from a horn, you stand beside Helga next to the table where her husband happily tells some people his stories. “He keeps staring,” Helga mutters as you take another sip from your drink.

“Who?”

“Bjorn.”

“Oh.” Trying to be discreet, you take a look where he's seated, slightly nodding at him when your eyes meet. “Since the horse incident, we haven't been speaking much.”

“Aslaug told me an interesting story,” Helga smirks, and you furrow your eyebrows at her. “Hvitserk and Ivar. She said you have a... Curious relationship with both of them and she has no idea who you like.”

“Hvitserk is just a friend.” You speak fast, almost choking on your drink. “We've been friends since I got here basically, but that's it.”

She raises an eyebrow, her eyes moving from you to Ivar. That's when you notice you know exactly where he is. “You explained your relationship with one of them... What about the other?”

That makes you restless because you feel like giving the same answer you gave about Hvitserk isn't completely true. But how exactly can you explain it? “Ivar and I are... Friends... Not as close as Hvitserk, Uhm... We're actually just starting to–”

“I haven't noticed this one yet.” A raspy, strong voice says, and your attention is taken by the three men who came to stand behind you.

“She's a pretty one.” The taller, with dirty blonde hair, says. Stepping back, you stand next to Helga.

“More than pretty.” The third one, with a heavy accent, adds. “Are you a servant?”

“No, I–”

“Of course she isn't. Look at her dress.” The first one, with a braided beard, cuts you off before you can say anything, coming closer and forcing you and Helga to give a step back. His eyes are evil as they travel through your body, up and down. “Her jewels...” His hand comes to touch your necklace, and the other, the blond, moves to your side, pulling the skirt of your dress.

“She's under Aslaug's protection,” Helga speaks up, pulling you to the side a little. But by the way the man smiles, it doesn't seem like they care.

“Is she?” The blond asks, but it doesn't sound like he wants an answer.

You're about to say something, anything when another figure comes from behind you. Your heart starts pounding, but you're relieved when you recognize Bjorn. He stands between you, Helga, and those men. “My friends, why don't you join me for a drink?” He says, a hand behind his back gesturing for you to leave.

Helga takes your hand and pulls you away, back to the table where you were seated before. “Don't go anywhere alone tonight.” She whispers in your ear right before walking away.

“What was that?” You're quick to feel the change in the atmosphere, and, looking around, you notice everyone you know is gone, and Ubbe is the only one on the table. “Where is–”

“C'mon.” He quickly says and gets up, and you follow him inside. Everyone is here, and they stop talking when they lay eyes on you.

“Is there a problem?” You're quick to find Ivar, and, the moment you lock eyes with him, you can see how fast his expression changes. From anger to relief. Things turned upside down quickly, and you have no idea what happened.

“The problem is that they are wanderers. They don't fear or respect our rules.” The Queen says, eyeing Ragnar with anger. “I want them gone tomorrow.”

“They will be gone.” He assures, arms crossed.

Still trying to follow, you run a hand through your hair. “Did they do something?”

“No, but they'll try.” It's Bjorn who answers, coming to join you.

Alright, nobody here wants to be clear about it, so what's the point? “I'll go back to the feast so you can solve whatever problem–”

“Those three men were eyeing you all evening.” Bjorn interrupts. “They came to me asking who you were and where you're sleeping. Then they approached you like that. Do you really need me to explain in detail what exactly they'll try to do to you?”

This makes you stop breathing. “I'll keep the door locked then.” You mutter in a low voice, looking down and moving to the hanging table to get something to drink.

“No, you can't be there tonight. Nor alone.” Aslaug speaks as you find the two jars on the table are empty.

“She can stay with me tonight.” Bjorn is quick to offer, and your eyes go wide.

“Can't I stay with Ivar?” The words come out so damn fast it takes your slow brain a while to process what just happened. It was almost involuntary, as if there was something else inside you, like a force of nature, pushing those words out. “O-or Hvitserk?” You add after seconds of silence, a little lower, feeling as your cheeks burn.

Bjorn laughs, exchanging glances with Ragnar. “Ivar can't protect you.” He sounds disgusted, mocking, a hand gesturing at where his younger brother is.

You shouldn't have said that. You're sure Aslaug would arrange for you to move to another room, or maybe even sharing her chambers tonight. But no, you had to make things weird.

“Nobody will hurt her.” When you hear Ivar's reply, your attention turns to him. His eyes are on his brother, who stands a few feet away from you. You've never seen Ivar so angry, not even when you first got here, when he hated you for being a Christian living among them. But now... It's different, it's... Fury.

“Alright. Enough, both of you.” Aslaug stands up, a putting her cup down. “(Y/N), you stay with Ivar or Hvitserk tonight. Ragnar, go tell those disgusting men I want them gone by the morning.” Without saying anything, Ragnar leaves.

Not sure what to do next, you stand by the table, a hand holding the chains. It feels like everyone is expecting something, you're not sure what. You keep staring at Aslaug, who looks like is trying to tell you something you just can't understand.

“I think it's obvious you'll stay with Ivar so I'll just go,” Hvitserk mumbles as he walks by you, giving you a look that makes you want to throw a shield at him. Is he even allowed to have fun at a moment like this? Another obvious thing is that he'll never let it go, until the end of times, Hvitserk will tease you about this night.

“Well...” Ivar says, as he takes his clutch and gets up to his feet. “I think that's it.” You can tell he's ignoring Bjorn because that one can't stop staring. Ivar is playing with his brother, but, when he's near you, it doesn't look like he's playing anymore. Maybe he just got reminded of the reason why this is happening in the first place, and so did you. It's your safety that's at risk here. “C'mon then.” He says in a lower voice, and you nod, starting to follow him.

×

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla @anotherfan07 @heavenly1927

[eivorsjawline]

tw: the usual blood and cuts visuals

Chapter 7: Turn Back Time

Reader’s POV

A crescent moon lit up the night sky and the grass remained damp from the recent storm, crickets and frogs sang nearby. The wet, muddy terrain on the hill worked my calves as well as ruined my shoes. My escort finally dropped me off at the stones. Though I know it's odd dropping a strange woman off at a landmark in the middle of the night, he never asked any questions. The atmosphere was dark and cold, part of me felt scared to go back. There is always the chance that the stones could send me to the wrong time period, or even further back. I found love here, and even friends of my own. At least what I thought was love, even if the feelings were not mutual. How could someone so sweet and loving towards me flip within an instant. I questioned if I truly knew Eivor at all in the time I spent here.

Everything changed through the years, but the stones remained the same. Unchanged by any shape or form of mankind. People have come and have gone as they have sat and watched patiently. I wonder whether people have even noticed my absence and how I would explain where I was. It's difficult bearing the truth but having no one to tell it to otherwise I’d be deemed insane. I was back where my journey started, in the same spot engulfed by the tall rocks around me. The standing stone I had touched previously stood directly in front of me. However, I couldn’t bring myself to touch it as if a magnetic force was pulling me away. My name echoed in the distance from a voice I could recognize no matter how far.

Eivor stepped down from her horse with caution and let out a groan. Her knees appeared weak as she stumbled towards me and her voice dry and tired. I still felt anger towards her and wondered why she didn't just apologize earlier.

“Y/n, wait!”

“Why, Eivor?” 

“Im sorry, I’m drunk and I can't think right now. Please, forgive my harsh words… You deserve more than what I can offer you. So I…”

She paused and placed her hand on her stomach before dropping to her knees. I quickly moved her hand and lifted her undershirt to reveal she had been wounded. Though I’m not an expert, It was clear to see the wound was deadly. Eivor reached her hand outwards towards me for support. I screamed out her name whilst the anger in my body was now replaced with fear.

“Eivor, get up!”

She could hardly keep her eyes open and her body refused to stand up. For once, I had no time to think of what to do next. Running on pure adrenaline, I reached behind her and grabbed underneath her arms in an attempt to drag her but she was too heavy. My panicking only worsened from that point forward.

“Eivor, I need you to help me please… Just for a moment.”

Her eyes flickered with what little fight she had left in her body. I placed her arms around my neck, holding her wrist. This allowed her to place less of her body weight on me as I led her to the stone. She groaned in pain and could barely support herself. I quickly pulled her free hand onto the stone alone with mine.

This is the only way… 

Eivor’s POV

Consciousness started to return to me as a bright light shined in my eye, I could make out the voices of other  people around me. Everything was colorless, only white. For a moment, I truly thought I had died. I looked up to strange sounds coming from a machine that had cords hooked up to various parts of my body. Men and women wearing white coats surrounded me and they seemed to somehow know my name. I sat up to get a better view of my surroundings and my jaw dropped, unable to fix the frown on my face. I began to tug and pull out the lines connected to me and a woman advised me to stop.

“Where am I? Who are you people?”

“This is a hospital and we’re trying to help you. I need you to lay back down.”

The lights around me were so bright and everything so foreign, I felt genuine fear forming in my body. They mumbled towards one another, words I could not make any sense of. The woman in front of me started to fidget with a set of tools near my bed until I grabbed onto her wrist and she flinched. She squirmed and tried to pull my hand off before I finally released her.

“Tell me where y/n is… Please.”

“She's waiting for you outside… Doctor, she's moving too much she needs to be put back to sleep.”

What does she mean put back to sleep?

Before any further thoughts could form I felt a pinch in my arm and my eyes started to grow heavy. I could not fight my drowsiness so I succumbed to it.

Readers POV

I waited outside Eivor’s room anxiously. Thankfully, I had been placed in the exact same time period I had left. Nothing changed and I knew no questions would be plastered onto me by anyone I know. The door to Eivor’s room opened and a doctor greeted me, papers in his hands of x-rays and tests. He was a tall freckled man with thick brown hair and his glasses kept falling from the bridge of his nose. I stood up to shake his hand and waited for him to tell me any news of her.

“So, the wound has been disinfected and is ready for proper healing. We’ve done a few tests on her brain activity and everything is functioning normal. However, she has multiple scars all over her body. They look to be battle scars, oddly enough. I understand you tell me she’s a new friend of yours but do you know anything else about her life?”

“All I know is that her life has been a rough one… Now, when can she be released?”

“Soon. She’s very confused right now, unaware of her surroundings. Perhaps, once she's awake you can help jog her memory.”

“Could I at least see her now?”

“I’m assuming you’re not family therefore, I can't allow that. Leave your number and we’ll let you know when she’s ready to be brought home.”

I jotted down my number with the black-ink pen the doctor gave me. He told me she needs to be aware of her surroundings before any further stimulation. Even if the doctor seemed suspicious, they know only so little. I felt bad on the walk to my car, I didn’t wanna leave her all alone there but there was nothing I could do about It. I feared she would be angry with me once I picked her up. I started up my car and pulled out of the driveway, the rain trickled onto the front of my window and I turned on my windshield wipers. The drive back home was somewhat rejuvenating, being back relaxed me, I didn’t have to witness war and blood every second of the day.

I neared the driveway of my parking lot and pulled in. On the passenger seat my keys laid, I grabbed them and shut the car door. When I unlocked the front door to my apartment everything remained just as It was before, like nothing changed. My cat greeted me with a meow and I replied back with a scratch on her neck before making sure her food bowl was filled. I missed my life entirely, though I hadn’t been gone terribly long, a feeling of deja vu still resonated within me. The night would be long as I waited for my phone to go off. I turned the television on in my living room and kicked back, my cat laying next to me.

Just like old times...

Traveling through time seems to tire me, so I laid back and let my mind drift away. 

Eivor’s POV

I awoke from my practically forced sleep. I knew my journey to her would bring me here, to her strange world. Some more clothes would have brought me more comfort rather than this sheet they have me in. My wound was healing nicely, the pain of it wearing away though still sore. Some good ale would help me endure this. The nurses treated me well, making me regret how aggressive I had been in the beginning. My knowledge of the world around me made them suspicious but they knew I was fully responsive. We discussed my release, and they gave me news that I should get ready to go home. One of the nurses placed a bag on the chair next to my bed.

“Your friend left some clothes for you to change into when she left.”

A simple shirt and pants, strange material though. Surely, for such an advanced time I would have thought the clothing would be more complex instead, It was rather minimalist. The shirt fit rather snug but the pants were fine and felt comfortable. No one bared any weapons or armor, I felt nude without anything to defend myself with. Everyone seemed content and relaxed, I envied the people around me and the sheltered lives they had always lived. They walked around completely oblivious, and so did I. The concept was foreign but trying to fit in with the people around me was easy, just act like everything is okay. I heard a knock on the door once I finished dressing and the doctor came in to consult with me. He shook my hand and smiled.

“Hello, Eivor. Your wound is healing wonderfully. How are you feeling?”

“Better than I was.”

“The severity of your wound was extreme, even I’m surprised you made it… Your scars, how did you get them? If you don't mind me asking.”

I threw my hands up in the air trying to spare some time, my voice became soft.

“Oh, you know. Used to be a troublemaker, got into some bad fights.”

“I assume you're still troublemaking since that wound is fresh.”

“This one was an.... accident.”

Reader’s POV

The familiar sound of my phone started to ring. I knocked out so hard, I’m not even sure what time it is. I wiped the corners of my mouth before clearing my throat, the hospital was calling me. Anxiously, I answered the call and It was the doctor I had spoken to prior. Finally, I can pick her up from the hospital. I never got up quicker, throwing on some clean clothes and grabbing my keys on the way out the door. I whipped out of the driveway and headed towards Eivor, I think I may have even been speeding. Upon arrival I made my way to the desk to check into Eivor’s room. I took the elevator and pressed the floor number I needed to go to. Ugh, I hate the smell of hospitals. Disinfectants and chemicals everywhere, yet the taste of nothingness in the air at the same time. I found myself at her room door, and knocked to make sure she was ready for my entrance. The door handle twisted and opened swiftly, my heart began to beat faster when I saw the way she looked at me. I wrapped my arms around her neck and gave her a warm embrace.

“I’m so sorry It happened this way. We’ll get you back, I promise.”

“There’s no need for apologies, you saved my life. These people saved my life, there would be no going back home if it wasn’t for your quick thinking. I will admit for the first time there is true fear in my body for what lies out there.”

I chuckled, sure enough she had the look of fear in her eyes.

“Eivor, there’s nothing to be scared of. Come on, let me show you my home. Oh, I just picked the shirt and pants out real quick, sorry if the fit is wrong. We’re going shopping as soon as possible...”

Eivor looked overwhelmed, perhaps the bright lighting and a bustling hospital was a lot to handle for her. We stepped in the elevator and made our way down, the buttons and how we dropped seemed to fascinate her. When we got outside to the parking lot she was surprised to see all the cars moving fast, faster than any horse could go. When we got to my car I made a short, “ta-da!” movement with my hands.

“This is my humble stallion, she takes me wherever I like.”

Behold, my silver car. A few years dated but in almost pristine condition, I seemed quite proud of myself somehow. I opened the door for her and had to remind her to tilt her head down when entering.

“More of those…”

She pointed at the numbers in my car.

“They're called buttons, love.”

I turned the volume dial on my car and played some tunes. The surprised expression on her face when she heard what we consider music, we shared a look before smiling and laughing at each other. The moment was short when she ran her fingers over the functions, the radio station changing repeatedly and the heater kicking on and off… Like a child in a candy shop, touching everything in sight. Though I was trying to contain my laughter, her face remained serious and extremely focused. I got on the road to go back home, making sure to play some of my favorite songs for her entertainment.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Unbetrothed

Summary: Let me just say I am an American with no idea of how royal hierarchies work. Just made something up.

Governors are basically kings of the states they run with their own armies and mayors are dukes. Women are not allowed to work, only marry.

Dark MCU royal AU [but not really grey at best]

Sam Wilson x reader, dark Thor x reader [not really i don’t think. more like grey Thor]

Warning: attempted suicide, sex

----

"She's old Margret" your father huffed.

"Dear no I think you're being harsh" your mother defended.

You sat in the kitchen peeling potatoes for tonight’s dinner as you listened to him complain.

"I most certainly am not! She is old. Way past her prime. Am I supposed to work myself to death to  support her?" He grumbled.

"Her brothers have long sense left this house. Started families of their own. Making their own way about the world."

"Dear they are men. Made to labor. What would you have her do? You refused her education. She has little options"

Women were with few exception not allowed to work. If you were not aiming to be a nurse, maid, or teacher. Most girls stopped their education after they learned to read or their parents stopped paying for tuition.

"Well, I would have assumed she would have been long sense married by now. What would be the point in wasting the money on education?"

He would often complain after doing his monthly expenses. Paying for the loan on the house, paying to feed himself and his wife, but the extra cost of the spare mouth of a daughter drove him up the wall. He actually calculated how much extra money he would have if you were not there draining his savings. As if it would by him a cottage on a beach in the state.

A popper he was not but a frugal bastard he was indeed. Only spending extra if he could come out ahead in the end.

It was like this most days, the only time it wasn't were when your father stayed out to drink. Pouring his sorrows into a pint and from your mothers presumption whores.

"Joseph, from work, told me that the Governor's having a ball. Says that his son told him that they send all the army boys there, most bachelors the lot of them. You know those army folks are quick to wed." He told your mother. He had planned this out thoroughly it would seem. "Lets put some lipstick on this pig and send her off"

"She is not a cow you sell at market!" Your mother was outraged out the notion.

"Well Moo Moo Margret. She is going. If she doesn't find a suitor then she is out on the streets. Have the state worry for her."

"Dear you cant mean that. She is our blood." Your mother would do nothing more than speak of her disapproval.

"It's my mother's fault." He said as he walked to his favorite sitting chair. "She was a bit misshapen. Got her damn jeans from me. Swear if she didn't look like her I would deny her my name" your mother gasped loudly at the insult.

"She tried to marry the Wilson boy and you denied her! Now look at him, second in command of the states army."

"Well, I thought when she...uh" he paused to find the right word to say. "Bloomed she would bring better prospects."

When you were 14 you fell in love with Sam Wilson and he with you. Children of the same age, same culture and you two had become fast friends. He had always made you laugh and it was not uncommon to be betrothed at such a young age.

One day while playing by the creek he had pushed you against the old oak tree and kissed you. So innocent and sweet, but it only lasted a fraction of a second. You had stared at him with your eyes wide with shock and surprise.

"Y/N I love you. Marry me?" He had no ring just a wild daffodil half ruined from being hid within his pants pocket. You had hugged him so tight he teased that you almost broke his bones. You had loved him for ages and to have your best friend love you back was truly a delight any girl could ask for.

The day felt like a dream as you two lay in the field and talked of your future. How many children, where the house should be, what the wedding would be like. You hadn't even noticed that the sun was setting as the euphoria of your love took over.

Kissing him on the cheek with a promise to meet again tomorrow you rushed home. With a smile that would not falter.

"Mom! Mom!" You burst through the door.

"What is it girl? You're so loud. What is it?"

"Sam! He asked me to be his wife!" Barely able to catch your breath as you retell the events.

Your mother's sweet smile showed of her approval in the union. The excitement of telling your father made the hands on the clock drag. When you saw the cart finally drop him off you exploded through the door and rushed to tell him your joyous news.

But your joy was short lived. Sam's family was not the status that he wanted for you. He gambled that when you were to hit puberty you would attract hire quality suitors. To hedged his bets he pulled you from school and refused you out to see Sam.

The decision crushing you completely, your home had become your prison for over a decade. Only allowing out into the world to join your mother for her weekly shopping.

He broke you back then and thought nothing of it. Unmoved by your constant tears and sorrow. Eventually you cared not for the fancy things in life. Your hair unkept, your clothes unpressed and makeup was as foreign to you as the neighboring states. Your mother would often scold you for not putting out your best as to catch the eyes of a suitor. But what was the point?

You lived only in the fading memories of Sam. Replaying ways to have made things different. Your mother took pity allowing you stationary upon which to write. Sending him love letters, but sadly with no replies.

"Well I buying her a ticket to the governors ball. We have enough for a decent enough dress so get her ready." Plopping down he opened his smoking box to take out his pipe. Lighting it up with long puff signaling to your mother that the final word had been spoken.

Your mother with your fathers pocket book went all out. When he saw the receipts he almost had a stroke. He swore never again to make that mistake with your mother again.

Your hair, makeup and dress were all done for the affair. When she showed you the results in the mirror before you left with your father you swore someone had bewitched the mirror.

When you two arrived at the Governors estate your father pushed you to mingle. But you had not the heart for music and fun. Walking aimlessly about the crowded event until you spotted him.

It couldn't be could it?

Walking up to the man you presumed to be your long lost love you call out.

"Sam?"

It was him, adorn in his formal military uniform.

"Y/N?"

Your heart felt like it beat for the first time in ages. Swelling with joy tears almost fell from your eyes at the sight of your long lost love.

You hugged him instantly, but it took a moment before his arms reciprocated the gesture.

"I always wondered what happened to you. I even went to your house but I was always turned away"

"It was all my fathers doing. Did you receive my letters? My mother made sure to mail them daily, but I never got word back."

Even through your despair you had never stopped writing. Everyday even when your mind tried to insert logic you still wrote. You could barely spell and your mother was of no use in that matter, but that did not stop you.

"What letters?" He was at a loss and that is when your heart began to hurt a little at the betrayal of you're only ally.

Every shopping day your mother would buy you the most gorgeous letter paper to write to him with, only to never send them. But why?

"I wrote to you every day Sam I swear it" you were in denial. She wouldn't have done that. No never her. Not your mother.

"Honey who is this?" A beautiful woman appeared from his side.

"This is an old friend. Wanda this is Y/N"

She was so striking and much younger than you. "Oh hello he talks much about his youth here in this state, but I'm sorry I don't recall you." You could see her trying to recall a memory and even with the scrunch of her brow she was a sight.

What would you say to her? That you were his first love, first kiss, that he had proposed to you. That you still had the daffodil he gave. Now pressed in the holy book on the page that would have held your vows.

"I.." You looked at him. His smile was for her now. You were nothing, but a ghost playing among the living. "I went to school with him when I was much younger, but never completed." She smiled at you so pure and overflowing with love for him that it made you sick, but you forced yourself to mirror her.

"Well it was nice meeting you, Y/N.." She said through the loud music."but if you will excuse me I would love to dance with my fiancé." Pulling him away. As they departed what was left of your heart felt as if it had rolled in glass.

Every breath brought a pain and as your vision began to blur you saw your father approached with that look. That look that you had not the energy to deal with. So you took off. Walking swiftly through the crowded ballroom zigging and zagging not knowing where to go. You were boiling over, but you didn't want the world to see. For Sam to see.

As you scanned the massive room filled with people you spot a staircase that wrapped along the wall. You don't know why you went to it, but you did. Ascending the stairs as quickly as you could in your full dress. Tripping only twice on the petty coat underneath, but still able to stand up right. There were fewer people on this level, each in their own conversation of this or that. Taking a deep breath you decide to turn left. Passing awkwardly by the smaller groups of people before stopping at the door at the end of the hall.

The massive wooden door was unlocked when you tried the handle. Pushing it open you could see no lights. Entering the darkness of the room, the blackness poured over you then the tears fall before you could close it behind you. With your back pressed to it you slid down the door and on to the floor. The sound of the booming music from the band hiding you're sobbing from the world.

As you cried you felt the cold breeze of the night prickle your skin. Looking you see the sheer curtain dance in the wind the color of the moon light giving it a soft ghostly hue. Standing up you walked to it. Opening the curtain you found the window to actually be a small balcony.

Walking out to the banister at the end you stare up at the moon and the sight of it filled you with loneliness. A small part of you had held out hope that Sam still loved you, would come for you and you two would live out those childhood wishes from long ago. But he wasn't and your father would surely be tossing you out by the morrow.

You didn't know how, but somehow you had climbed over the railing. Staring at the earth below.

What was the point? You couldn't work, too old to marry. Born to be nothing.

"You shouldn't be here." A voice came out from behind the ghostly veil.

Turning your head you look back to see, but when you spotted him you only stared through him.

Holding on to the steel frame of the balcony you lean forward. Hoping that when you fall and kiss the ground that the pain would be swift. So you let go.

"No you don't"

He was fast. Catching your wrist before you descended. Looking up at him you could see him clearly now. The strain on his face had his veins busting through his flesh as he pulls you back up and over the banister.

He had pulled you so hard that he lost balance and landed on the  floor with you on top of him.

Pushing yourself off his chest you straddled him. Your dress almost swallowing him whole. When he sat up he rubbed the back of his head and hissed. As he straightened himself, his height could not be ignored.

"Are you mad wo.." His words were cut off by the crashing of your lips to his. You just pressed them hard into his, your eyes shut tight as your fingers clasped the fabric of his formal uniform.

His hands came on to your shoulders and pushed you back. "They had told me these events were to be a prudish affair. Had I known women of this state were made of fire we would have united our states long ago." His strange accent had you gawking at him.

Your eyes fell to his uniform, the colors were all wrong. It was not of your state's formal wear, but anothers.

He kissed you this time, his tongue tickled your bottom lip the sudden wetness of it made you gasp and he took that opportunity to invade. Yours sat frozen in your mouth bewildered by the intrusion.

When his hands fell on your hip you yelped in his mouth. "Move for me" he said as his hands guided you back and forth on his lap. The friction of his pants on your bloomers was delightful. Moaning in his mouth your eyes shot open wide. Embarrassed by the foreign noise, but the man only chuckled on your lips.

Your hands released his clothes and wrapped around his neck. When he bit your bottom lip you bit his, when his tongue flicked yours you flicked his in turn. You let him guide you to every move. His hands fell from your hip, but you still kept the pace as the warm fuzziness of the feeling building in your core wanted more.

Placing his arms on your back he pushed you backwards on to the  cold balcony floor while never breaking his kiss. Your heart beat hard in your chest as you felt him press you into the unforgiving floor with your dress the only bit of comfort to it.

He pulled away again making you whimper. His smile looked so devilish as he stared down at you. "Your pure aren't you girl."

Your ears felt hot as his eyes looked upon you. "Yes" it came out almost as a whisper.

He bit his lip almost fighting off a bigger grin. Moving his hands from your back one hand glided atop your dress. Grazing both breasts before hooking his in it. Pulling the fabric down allowing your breast to bounce free in the night air. His warm palm overtaking the circumference of one breast filling your body with more fire.

Bending down you closed your eyes to receive a kiss, but it never came. His wet mouth latched onto your exposed bosom, making you pant. The flicking of his tongue drove you mad with wanting. His soft lips kissed each breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth. "Your flesh is sweeter than any honey I've ever tasted." His rugged voice sent you soaring to the heavens.

Bunching up your dress his hand moved slowly up your thigh. Stopping at your bloomers. "What do you want little dove?" He looked down at you again. Waiting for your answer.

Was this what Sam does to Wanda?

For whatever reason your mind could not picture him this way. So your mind drifted, thinking of the women of the night. The women that lived for the night as you are now. Your mother had spoke often about loose women. Whores she would call them. Good for nothings seen as no more than the corrupters of men souls. That’s why she never blamed your father for his misdeeds. You wanted to be a corrupter of men, to hold a power over them. Seeing as giving them power had brought you no joy in this world.

"I want to be a whore" at your words his smile dropped and a hunger unfamiliar to you grew upon his face.

Hurriedly pulling your bloomers down you could hear a growl from him. As if by the moon he would change into a wolf right before your eyes. His focus strayed from you but for only a brief moment as he fiddled with his own attire.

He lay between your spread legs poking at your muff with a rod harder than the floor that ached your back. "Then my whore you shall be" without another word he forced himself into you.

The pain and discomfort had you screaming into the night. Pushing him off, but he held steadfast deep in you up to his hilt. Tears prickled your eyes as the pain felt unbearable. Lifting your legs onto his shoulder allowed him deeper still and you felt too full.

"Please sir it hurts" you hissed. Your eyes pleading up at him.

"Not for long my dove" His hips slammed against you with such forced that you tried to crawl backwards away. But with his hands on your shoulder he locked you in place. Each time his hips slapped yours it sent jolts throughout your body.

Your mewls mixing with his groans while the music played from the ball down stairs. "It hurts!" Your voice quakes as he continued his punishing thrust. Your breasts jerking harshly from his movements while your legs try and force him off, but he went on undeterred.

"My..dove.. sing for me" and you did with every thrust.

Your back arched off the unforgiving ground as you felt your cunt stretched beyond its limits to receive him. Your nails dragged along his coat sleeves, snagging on badges here and there.

The pain of him faded into a wave of ecstasy. "More please" you panted.

"Does..my..dove..love.. my..cock" he teased as he watched your face transform from pain to pleasure. Hitting your core harder with each word, moaning deeply as he filled you.

"Mmm so-so good." You moaned. The pressure from him electrified your whole body. You could feel every inch of him and you wanted more.

"A whore..only for...me" he groaned. His chest pressed into your legs as his movements grew wilder. Your body felt a buzz, your flower so alive, clenching feverishly around him. His member started twitching, flexing inside of you and filling you with more warmth and wetness.

"Such a good little dove" he praised.

When he stopped he gave your lips one last kiss before falling over to your side. Your legs flopped to the floor landing with a thud shaking like a leaf in the wind. Turning your head to him, you examined the glistening features of his face.

"Who are you?" You panted out half exhausted.

As he began to speak the door creaked open in the distance.

"Y/N!" Your fathers voice shouted out. You sat up with a cold splash of reality hitting you.

When your father came into the room he had only seen the aftermath. A compromising position that sent him into a tizzy. Racing over to you he grabbed your for arm pulling you from your savior.

Pulling up your top and cleaning off your dress you prayed he had not noticed your very bare chest in the confusion.

"What are you doing who is that?" He roared furiously. "Speak"

*Smack

His slap faded into the nights air. He must be getting older, much more older than you thought him to be. His strikes barely fazed you now, but you held your face as if it still held the same power as they used to have.

"What were you thinking you stupid girl? Your chastity is you're only saving grace." He was furious. "I can't believe my own daughter a whore."

"Ah heeeehhhmmmm" the stranger cleared his throat behind you. His height towering over you and your father.

"Excuse me sir, but in my state we do not take Kindly to the striking of innocent women."

"And who are you to speak to me in such a ways army boy?"

"I'm lieutenant Governor Thor Odinson of the Asgardian state. New allies of your Governor's state."

Your father's eyes widened in shock as did yours.

"We were just admiring the constellations as we are ought to do in my state. Isn't that right milady?"

Your father looked to you to answer while Thor shot you a knowing wink.

"Well if you would excuse her intrusion sir, but she is supposed to be finding a suitor not laying about star gazing" he spoke nervously.

Pulling you out of the room by your arm as Thor faded into the darkness.

"What happened to your face girl you look a sight?" He said annoyed. "Go to the mirror and fix yourself" he pointed to a mirror along the wall right before the entrance to the room. "Had someone else spotted you, you would have been thought a harlot for sure" he huffed.

Hurrying away you rush to the mirror all the while you felt Thor's seed snake down your leg.

[nuoyipeach]

Nothing Can Keep Us Apart (haerene)

April 28th, 2019

posting it here for @miracle-aiden , but I wrote this long ago so it's probably not that good😅 more newer haerene otw tho

ft. Bae Jinyoung

Donghae couldn't believe what she had just told him. He couldn't believe all those plans of their future he had prepared are going to waste. He couldn't believe how she was so easily going to leave him, and yet against her own will.

"Why baby?" he asked for the nth time holding her hands, trying not to cry seeing her tears. "Why? Why why why? You don't always have to listen to your father. Arranged marriage? Screw it! You're mine, remember. Only mine."

Joohyun could not help but burst into even more tears, being pulled into his chest as she gripped onto his shirt tight, arms around his torso and face snuggled into his chest. She hated her father for many things, but this was now on the top of her list.

"I don't want this Donghae. I never wanted any of this. But there's nothing I can do." she sobbed, and his hug only tightened around her.

"I can't think of letting you go to another man." Donghae mumbled, but audible for her to hear. "I can't even imagine it. The only other male I can think of you going out with is Jinyoung. That's it. I'm over protective and clingy I know. But it's because I love you so much."

Joohyun couldn't stop crying anymore. What he called over protective and clingy, she loved it. She always found it adorable how he looked out for her in public, and how he limited her contact with men. She never found it unfair or dominating, because he himself followed the same, limiting his contact with women. And Joohyun hated the average men, making Donghae special, and vice versa.

"Donghae... I'm sorry. I don't know anymore. It's for the stupid company, and the guy agreed because he benefits, and..."

Donghae placed a finger on her lips to stop her from further trying to explain. He knew how powerful her father was, but he hoped their three year long relationship was stronger. Sadly today, it wasn't. He looked at her face, completely wet from tears, and couldn't help it anymore as he started kissing every inch of it, even under her ears and on her neck and collar. Joohyun's hands locked themselves around his neck, knowing this was probably their last night together.

"Please Donghae, make this night special..."

He knew what she meant right away, and complied with her wish.

Joohyun couldn't sleep no matter how late it was, even in her favourite sleeping environment, that was under a blanket with his arms around her, her small body engulfed by his larger one feeling all of his body warmth on her own, and his slow breaths hitting the back of her neck. But she knew he wasn't asleep either because of how quiet the room was, unlike usual when his soft snores could be heard, one of her favourite things to listen to.

Slowly she shifted and turned around, pulling the blanket up a little to cover her chest, considering they were both naked, and faced him. "Donghae..." her soft call was enough for him to open his eyes, and his hand automatically carassed her face. Every touch, every feeling, every thing about him right now only made her even sadder, and tears soon pooled in her eyes, each wiped off by his thumb.

"Don't cry love. Please don't. It makes me even sadder." he choked, his voice breaking in between. Joohyun tried her best holding it in, and quickly moved closer into his embrace as they hugged each other again.

They enjoyed the quiet atmosphere, needing only each other's presence to live in peace. He sniffed her hair, while she traced her fingers on his arm. If they could they'd stay like this forever, never letting go.

But they had to, especially now when Donghae's phone rang. He sighed and kissed her forehead before reaching over her to the side table, surprised to see the caller. He turned the screen towards Joohyun, who squinted her eyes as surprised as he was, and motioned him to put it on speaker.

"Hey Jinyoung."

"Hyung! Is my sister with you!?!" the young boy asked in a seemingly worried voice.

"Yes, she's here."

"Oh thank God. I was scared when she didn't come back. I thought she... She killed herself."

"She's here Jinyoung don't worry. Remember, you'll never be alone again..."

"I am now..." he cut off Donghae with sudden sobs. "I'm alone again. Mum's gone, now noona's being sent off to some stupid forced marriage. Hyung, why is my father like this... In this case, I'd rather be dead. Right?"

"No you don't. You deserve to live. What if Joohyun needs your comfort? Wouldn't you feel bad for not being there for your own sister? Stay strong kid, you'll get through this."

A whimper was heard in reply, and the call was disconnected, and Joohyun giggled slightly at first, before tears pooled again.

"He loves you so much. Thank you Donghae."

He smiled back at her weakly. He knew how much her brother meant to her. He was ten years younger than her, making him only fifteen. That meant he was only seven when their mother died, and was left under the care of Joohyun. And when Donghae came, sure he was quite protective and jealous at first, but he now looked at him like a father figure, like he did with his sister, since getting any love from his father was far away.

Now hearing the boy's cries broke his heart almost as much as Joohyun did. He still didn't want to believe this was their last night together, and was now full of instant regret why he didn't propose sooner. But would it still have worked back then with her father? He was sure it wouldn't have.

"I'm going to miss you so much Joohyun, I might die from it."

"Donghae..." she cried again, and he pulled her closer cuddling her tight like his life depended on it.

Joohyun stood in front of the mirror hopelessly, in a white dress she had hoped to wear only for Donghae. But here she was, wearing it for some man she had no idea about, other than his face. She felt so terrible, so useless, so cheap, so disgusted, that she couldn't bear to look at herself in the mirror.

Jinyoung couldn't help feel just as bad for his sister, watching her from behind as she looked down, and he could see droplets of water fall on the hem of the long dress. He walked up behind her, and hugged her tight, head in her shoulder.

"Please don't cry noona. Please don't make me sad." he chanted like a child, hugging her tighter and hiding his eyes in her shoulder, trying to prevent his tears from spilling out. Joohyun couldn't help but let out audible cries now, turning around and hugging her brother back, causing him to cry just as much.

"Be a good boy... Promise me. Don't... Don't be like dad."

"I know... I'll be like hyung, Donghae hyung is the best." he said trying to smile.

She couldn't help cry even more at the mention of the name, having been unable to see him the past week after that night. But she knew it was for the best. She pulled out of the hug, and saw tears streaming down his face. She wiped them off and kissed his forehead, making him cry even more.

He loved her hugs, kisses, when she holds his hand, when she cooks for him, when she tutored him. He loved those moments when she came home from her dormitory, and he was the first to jump onto her even before their pet dog. When she introduced Donghae to him, and only him, he did feel jealous of the man for getting as much hugs and kisses as he did back then, but he knew how much she loved him. And he knew he himself was the most important male in her life if she was introducing her boyfriend to only him.

Joohyun now stood at the door with her father, keeping her hands to herself. The elder man noticed, and tugged her arm putting it around his. "I'm so proud of you." he said keeping his head high up, making her scoff. She didn't bother to even spare him a glance, keeping her face down all the time, even when walking to the altar. But she couldn't help feel sick in her stomach, and while the priest went on about the vows, Joohyun threw her bouquet onto the floor and ran off behind the hall to the washroom.

Jinyoung quickly followed behind, not bothered by the women only sign, and stood behind her as she threw up constantly. "Jinyoung... Get my bag... now!" she spoke in between gags, and he ran back out then in with her back pack. Joohyun took it and pushed him out of the toilet, locking it, but the boy didn't leave, standing in front if the door like a body guard. He fumbled his hands together, pacing around, when he received a message.

Hyung

Jinyoung, please take care of your sister and yourself. In about half an hour, I won't be around anymore. There's no point for me. And don't worry, I know my business is small, but I've left it to you. Be good and take good care.

Jinyoung's whole body system simply shut down as he somehow managed to understand what Donghae meant. At that moment the stall door opened, revealing Joohyun in a change of clothes, and a pale expression. He ran to her side, holding her hands tight.

"What's wrong noona? Are y..."

"We need to get out of here." she cut him off. "We need to leave, and find Donghae."

"Why?"

"I'm pregnant!" she exclaimed, and after seconds of processing, Jinyoung grinned a little, before he remembered the message.

"Noona we need to be fast. He's going to kill himself! Let's go!"

They first went into the back room to gather their things, then snuck out of the back into her car, putting their luggage into it. Good thing the wedding was in their own mansion hall, so getting all their belongings wasn't a problem. Jinyoung turned on the tracking in his phone, and found Donghae at the Han River bridge, and Joohyun was quick to start driving.

And it was only then when the people inside realised what was going on. A runaway bride. Jinyoung watched the guests come out of the hall, the groom in front creating a havoc, as they drove out of the land their father owned. She drove fast, but carefully, a smile spreading across her face as she thought of the small life inside her. The same smile now on Jinyoung's face as well. But they weren't there for long as the siblings soon reached the bridge, and recognised the black car from far. Joohyun quickly parked her's behind it, ran out and hugged the figure standing near the railings of the bridge, feeling his body freeze and tense up.

"Joohyun? What are you doing here?" he asked when suddenly engulfed in another hug from the front.

"Hyung please don't do this!"

"Jinyoung? Did you tell her?"

"Yes, but after she asked me to find you."

Confused, Donghae pushed the two off, and stood looking at both of them. "Find me why?" he asked Joohyun, who swiftly pulled something out of her pocket and showed it to him, making sure the test lines were visible. Donghae's eyes widened, shifting between the item and Joohyun's face.

"Seriously?" he asked, and she nodded, suddenly off the ground being spun around in the air. She laughed at his antics, and they pulled each other in for a kiss.

"Bleh." they pulled away and giggled at Jinyoung covering his eyes. "We have to go, remember. Dad's not going to let us off. What do we do?" he asked as Donghae put her down, then smirked mischievously.

"Give me your phone." he said taking Jinyoung's phone, and started to type away.

Dad, we've had enough. I hope you enjoy your burden-less life. You won't be seeing us anymore.

After sending the message, he took out the carrier card, and Joohyun's, then crushed and threw them into the river behind them. He took her car keys, moved all their bags into his car, and left the keys on top. He pulled the two into his car, and drove away to the nearest bank, and made Joohyun withdraw all her money, then break her card. Jinyoung had none, so they moved on to his house, and he sat them down to explain what he'd do next.

"We'll get you two new identities, change your surname, then we'll move."

"Where hyung?"

"Well, I actually moved my business to Sapporo, so we'll move there."

The siblings nodded, and instantly decided on a new surname, taking their mother's, Bae. Donghae took them to the government office, where they registered their new identities.

Bae Joohyun

Bae Jinyoung

Next he took Joohyun to a different floor, and she hugged him when she realised what they were doing. Registering their marriage. Once they finished, with Jinyoung as the witness, they drove back to his house.

Donghae booked quick flights to Sapporo, and by the next week, Jinyoung ran around carrying boxes in his hand, exploring his new house. Who would've thought that Donghae was apparently rich? Even if not to their father's extent, he was still amazed by his new home as he left the boxes and ran around the two story house, front yard, and big back yard that had a swimming pool as well.

Once their new house was finally made homely, Donghae went into his bedroom, smiling as he entered to see Joohyun putting up polaroid pictures of them on the wall. He crept behind her, and engulfed her into a hug, peppering kisses into the crook of her neck. Joohyun laughed feeling ticklish, until he stopped and turned her to him, her arms wrapping around his neck. He pecked her forehead, going down until her lips, then slowly bent down on his knees, his face in level with her tummy. He lifted her shirt, her hands layed on his shoulders, and kissed her tummy in several spots.

"If it wasn't for you," he whispered against her skin, "we would have both been gone by now." he hugged her tummy, leaning an ear against it. Joohyun felt so happy she couldn't contain her tears as her fingers combed through his hair.

Everything would finally be perfect.

[lovemecharlie]

NEW YORK MINUTE

An interactive story where you'll get to read and play along as your favorite wife and make choices. Good luck to you all and enjoy!

The First Night

When the private jet touched ground in NYC, Erik and his wives transferred to a matte black 12-passenger van where Bastion sat in the passenger seat to give the address of the house she'd rented via Noirbnb. The driver was an older black man named Sam and Erik watched him closely as he kept looking at Bastion.

“Erik, did you just hear that foolishness. JoJo said she tryna go to Dubai. For what,” Kimora cackled.

“Why Poosy? Just why,” Homie asked.

“I'm not entertaining this,” Hennessy chuckled.

“Think about it,” Josephine said launching into explanation while the others laughed.

“Eyes on the road, nigga,” Erik snapped suddenly causing everyone to look to the driver where Erik had been staring.

“Erik, leave that man alone,” Homie laughed when the driver flinched. “He don't mean no harm. You married nine beautiful women, what do you expect?”

“Hey, Mr. Driver Man, how old are you anyway,” Josephine leaned with Angel pushing her back and Erik throwing an evil expression daring Jojo to try him on this family vacation.

“Stop,” Angel cringed blocking Jojo.

“You and these old men,” Charlie laughed. “Hey Mr., you ever been to Dubai?”

“STOP. Mr. Sam, don't answer that,” Hennessy yelled. The driver continued to look ahead with Erik's eyes still burning a hole through his head.

---

The rental house was grand. It was no Stevens-Udaku estate by any means, but it was still larger and more luxurious than the average American home. A smooth dark stone path led to the front door where a quaint balcony jutted out overhead. There were many windows and many lights as well as many plants outdoors and artfully scattered inside as well. A complimentary fruit basket sat on the kitchen counter along with twelve decadent cupcakes which were boxed and sealed, and a few bottles of Arbor Mist wine in various flavors.

“This is my kind of vacation,” Charlie said around a mouthful of strawberry buttercream. “These cupcakes..” She gave a thumbs up. Erik tilted his head as if to say ‘Really?’ and she swallowed pointing to the fluffy cupcake in her hand. “I'm tasting it for poison. I'm the guinea pig.” He rolled his eyes and the group moved on looking through the lower level of the house while the driver took the bags upstairs and sat them in the hall. Vast living room, a bathroom, a movie theater den and a pool out back. They went upstairs and Bastion immediately paired everyone up for the rooms. There were five bedrooms.

“Daddy and I will-”

“Erik and who?” Hennessy cocked her head to the side. “No, try that one again.”

“Okay fine,” Bastion huffed, “Daddy and Kennedi. Is that fair?” Erik kissed her cheek when she pouted.

“Yep,” Homie said stepping forward in response to her government name being called. Erik smirked as she pulled him into the bedroom and waved her fingers closing the door.  

“Don't forget to be dressed and ready for Broadway. No sleeping in tonight. Sleep tomorrow,” Bastion yelled pointing to the next room. “Angel a-”

“Got ya,” Ryley said pulling Angel into the room. The door closed before anyone else could comment.. and now Homie was moaning.

“Okay, I'm rooming with Aly'Sha. Kimora, you're with Jojo. Henny, you're with Charlie,” Bastion pointed. The groups scattered with an agreement to reconvene when it was time to leave.

---

They'd all arrived at Broadway with time to spare dressed to kill watching a captivating performance of The Lion King. When it was all over, they hadn't far to go to get to the restaurant for dinner. It was all in the heart of NYC. Carmine's was the name of the establishment and they were the focus of the dining floor in their eye-catching garb. They looked like movie stars taken off of the red carpet and dropped at a white cloth covered table. Erik wore a navy velvet suit with a crisp white button up and navy velvet loafers. His fade and facial hair was cleanly cut, locs freshly washed and retwisted with aloe, and his golden rimmed glasses took him from pimp to intelligent black professor. He beamed, showing off his platinum bottom grill as he admired his table full of beautiful women.

“Him drunk look at'em,” Ryley snickered gesturing to the grinning N'Jadaka. His eyes were squint. The wives snickered and smiled watching him shake his head like he was just the happiest man on earth.

“I wanna make a toast,” he slurred raising his wine glass. His vodka glass was empty. Since he wasn't driving, he could get as lit as he wished.. and he was. “I married…,” he hesitated thinking about it, “Nine beautiful ass bi-” he paused looking to Charlie, “-young ladies.. beautiful. Stunning. Radiant. Divine. Beguiling..”

“Leave it to you to use big words when you're smashed,” Hennessy giggled watching him point at her with a happy yet unfocused expression. She shook her head confused, laughing and Charlie met her eye just as humored. He was really drunk.

“I love all of you so much.. so, so, so, SO much,” he stressed shaking his head for emphasis.

“Oh my God,” Angel howled giggling so hard she started crying.

“Shh shh,” Erik hushed with a finger to his lips. “I would die for you, mon amour, ma vie, mon tout..”

Hennessy wiped the tears from her own eyes, still in a giggling fit as Erik turned his attention and declarations of eternal love to her, toast forgotten.

When the check came, Hennessy used Erik's card to pay and they all hobbled into the street with Erik still whispering sweet nothings switching from French, to Xhosa, and back to English without seeming to notice.

“Yotteru yo,” Charlie said switching to Japanese grinning as she helped Erik to walk since he was weaving on the sidewalk.

“Shhh,” he shushed leaning to whisper in her ear. “Nonono I'm not drunk, babygirl. Daddy just lit. Yottenai.. Yottenai.”

“You're drunk,” Hennessy laughed.

"Hey, I think there's a club nearby, like in walking distance. We can ditch the car since we'll have to wait on it to drive around the block in this traffic and reach us. Let's just walk and enjoy the city," Kimora enthused checking her phone's GPS. Erik jogged ahead to drape his arm over her shoulders.

"Lead the way baby." Suddenly he was walking straight and Charlie stared at him, mouth wide as Hennessy laughed. Kimora turned to walk down a blackened alley that they couldn't see the end of due to shadows. Erik was right there with her.

"Wait, no," Bastion froze. The only light in there was the moonlight.

"Don't be scared, I'm right here," Erik announced walking into the shadowy darkness with Kimora. Feeling safer with him than without him, Bastion rushed into the darkness clutching onto the back of Erik's soft blazer.

"Uh uh, hold up now. I don't know 'bout all this," Angel drawled placing her hand on her hips and looking to Ryley. "My security don't get here til tomorrow."

"I'll be ya security. We'll protect each other," Ryley promised holding Angels hand firmly in hers. Side by side they walked on in after Bastion. Homie looked to Jojo then and followed as Josephine grinned and walked into the alley first.

"Should we go," Charlie asked Hennessy as they hung back.

"Wait a minute." Hennessy paused on the sidewalk to pull her engineered joint out of her clutch. Charlie sparked the lighter for her and she smirked putting the joint to her pink lips. “Thank you wifey.”

“Anytime,” Charlie smiled watching Hennessy inhale and exhale clean smoke.

"I'm ready." Hennessy and Charlie turned together walking into the alley, Charlie's phone flashlight shining ahead.

---

Erik kissed his teeth noticing three shadows moving ahead and stepped in front of Kimora. "Why we can't just walk through the city in peace," he groaned. A gun lifted pointing at him and he rolled his eyes as three men approached, two black and one white.

One of the black guys let out a long whistle, kissing his teeth at the end. "This my lucky day, money and bitches falling in my lap." He racked his gun and made the count two peices aimed at Erik who smirked at the comment. They ain't know him or his wives. "Young nigga out here gettin it," the man snorted, spitting off to the side. "We been watching you, nigga. You not from here." He looked over Erik's fit and to the wives who were decked out in pricey gowns. "I hate to embarrass you like this in front of ya bitches, but... nah, I actually don't give a fuck. Get on your knees Carlton ass weakass bastard."

"You think you can walk up on me like shit sweet just because I'm surrounded by women? Hm. Also, Carlton didn't wear glasses," Erik sighed unbothered.

"Wow motherfucker, you have a death wish," the white man laughed. The other muggers were distracted for only a second and brought back to attention by the sound of four guns clicking nearly in unison. The distraction was all the time the wives needed to flip the script.

Ryley held her pistol out strong, her eyes never wavering. He posture was a cold dare. She dared them to try to pull the trigger faster than she could, gripping up her dress with her free hand in case she had to rip it and get crazy. Angel was loose from her wine and her gun had flown quickly into the air ready to pop at any movement of the men's fingers. She nearly fired simply because she was tipsy and they were annoying. She hobbled back on her high heels, mirroring Ryley's bold energy. She silently dared them to try and pull the trigger on her husband. They'd see ugly like they'd never seen before. Bastion had the gun that Erik had given her aimed at the white guy, but she didn't exactly know how to hold it or how to aim since she lacked gun skills. The heart was there, however, and she held the gun sideways like she'd seen in the movies before looking briefly to Ryley out the corner of her eye and holding the gun straight to mirror her pose. Josephine's gun was aimed for the other black guy and she stuck her arm out over Angel with her gun to the side, but that was just how she shot guns.

"Ain't nobody killing that nigga but me, y'erd. Pull the trigger and get sprayed like gřřřřtttt," Josephine threatened imitating the sound of an automatic assault rifle. Hennessy stoodby also unbothered and smoking her joint passing it off between Homie and Aly'Sha who were barely interested, they were so unafraid. Charlie stood watching the scenario through her phone's camera, chuckling in the background behind the armed wives. They had it handled. Two of the men turned tail, lowering their guns and running away, but that one bold one who was talking trash stayed with his gun up. Angel pulled the trigger and then Ryley shot. The man fell to his knees and forward dropping his gun. Charlie stepped forward and looked him over without touching him.

"He'll live," she determined walking on. Kimora and Erik followed and then Hennessy, Homie, Bastion, Angel, and Ryley. Aly'Sha walked on like nothing had happened and Josephine started to move on, but something in her witchy mind said no. She shot her gun sending a bullet to the man's head killing him. Aly'Sha rolled her eyes.

"Now we gotta get out of here," Ryley groaned walking faster. When they emerged into the street, they saw the club a couple of blocks away.

"See! Not that far," Kimora pointed.

---

* only JoJo is available to play now. Follow the links

Play as Hennessy

Play as Aly'Sha

Play as Ryley

Play as Angel

Play as Homie

Play as Charlie

Play as Kimora

Play as Josephine

Play as Bastion

[aegor-bamfsteel]

Yo man, I hear that the Blackfyres and their supporters were Conservative, sexist, brutish usurpers who couldn't stand to see a feminist king on the throne but here you are, an honest to God bra burning, women's lit thumping feminist unironically supporting the Black Dragon. In this entire fandom you're the only person I've found openly supporting them. If you don't mind me asking, why do you like them so much?

Hey dude, you’re asking me to talk about sexism, fandom hypocrisy, and my Blackfyre love in an inflammatory way that could result in getting me in trouble with the fandom? I probably shouldn’t be answering this, but ok. This has been sitting in my inbox for a week, and let no one say that I leave any ask unanswered. Wankery found under the cut:

Eyy dude, what if I told you that the perception of Blackfyres as sexist, brutish usurpers in fandom is largely due to some prominent people’s intellectual elitism and projection of neoliberal political views? Aspects of GRRM’s writing like the unreliable narrator, villains-are-heroes-from-another-side, and history is written by the “victors” are given no credibility in favor of condemning the Blackfyre supporters as racist, sexist, and ableist (?) in fandom. I’m extremely annoyed that no one seems to be asking the sort of questions or making the sort of connections that I have due to this blanket ban on Blackfyre sympathy. I’ve answered your broader question on why I supported the Blackfyres in an earlier ask (they were more honorable, less absolutist and cruel than the Targaryens, even demonstrated some meritocracy, and most died horrifically) so I will try to answer based on the sexism angle: How come I like the Blackfyres so much and support woman’s liberation at the same time?

First of all, you come into my askbox and tell me that Daeron II was a feminist king? Nah bro. A real male feminist ally in a position of power would’ve passed laws to ensure his father’s predatory behavior would be banned. He would’ve been trying to apologize for the way he and his father treated the Bracken sisters and actively sought to make amends instead of making the situation worse. He could’ve given widows a pension or granted certain protections to mothers with illegitimate children. He could’ve opened up exit shelters for prostituted women wanting to learn a trade, as Empress Theodora did back in sixth century AD Byzantium. Why does fandom think he is so Feminist™ when he did so little for women? Are they referring to him having Princess Elaena as an unofficial advisor while her husband Ronnel Penrose was Master of Coin, a man who could barely string two numbers together? (Which really undermines the claim that Daeron was a reformer who chose wise men as councilors, since he selected an incompetent based on his own family status) Might I remind everyone that Daeron arranged Elaena’s second marriage in the first place, a woman 3 years his elder who had been locked in prison for 11 years by her brother, bore illegitimate twins by her cousin, forced to wed an old man by her uncle/Aegon, and may have been forced into sleeping with the horrific Aegon IV? You’d think after enduring so much at the hands of her male relatives, the Kind™ Daeron would’ve backed off, but she has to pay for his son Aerys’ failed marriage by sacrificing her hard-won independence. How feminist. But I guess it’s OK, because after Ronnel died Daeron generously gave his blessing when she wed someone she truly loved! I can’t imagine she felt much affection for this entitled shit. But maybe the Great Fandom Minds™ are referring to how Daeron treated his wife Myriah, who is a blank slate in terms of personality and political actions? I can’t even think of any other names of women Daeron might’ve canonically “empowered”, so how exactly is he a feminist? And why does thinking he was a self-serving politician who treated all of his family members except his sons like expendable trash make me sexist? Do tell, Fandom Minds who know so much more than I.

By contrast, how does liking Daemon Blackfyre and thinking he’d be a better king than Daeron make one sexist? Eustace Osgrey said that he hung out with warriors rather than septons and women, but GRRM himself said that Daemon did have female followers (some we know even participated in the Second Blackfyre Rebellion, like Ladies Vyrwell and Smallwood. Not to mention the cause owes its continued strength after Redgrass to Queen Rohanne) who were “drawn to him.” There’s the rumors that Daemon thought that he could marry Princess Daenerys and Rohanne of Tyrosh, but even the biased Maester Yandel said that claim only developed long after the wedding from a few Blackfyre supporters, which is a few steps removed from the original source. I believe that version of the story was an attempt by the Westerosi Blackfyre supporters to acknowledge Rohanne of Tyrosh’s invaluable contributions to the cause of the exiles while still maintaining the romanticism of a Daemon/Daenerys forbidden romance. It absolutely blows my mind that Daemon gets more flak for what he might have said at fourteen than Daeron does for helping a teenaged girl and her two-week-old son get banished for something her father said. Because Daeron is called “the Good” and thus incapable of doing wrong, obviously.

But outrageously, the fandom has to headcanon abusive behavior on Daemon to make him look like a villain. Seriously, I’ve heard people claim he was an abusive father to Daemon II, cheated on or never loved Rohanne, would have killed his nephews, and tried to rape Princess Daenerys based on no canonical evidence (in fact, the evidence goes against the honorable father of at least nine presented in canon). Even a Daemon-hater like Yandel had to concede that Daemon’s love was for the mother of his children to whom he was married for 12 years. Daemon died protecting his son Aegon from the Raven’s Teeth arrows; he’d never hurt his children. As for the children of others, his faction during the First Blackfyre did not kill children (in fact, Quentyn Ball spared Lady Penrose’s youngest son, some say on Daemon’s orders), especially not those too young to fight. The fandom’s portrayal of Daemon as a vicious monster really serves to emphasize how little evidence they have that Daeron II was a truly good person; the man with grudges against two of his father’s underaged rape victims isn’t a hero, so they have to make his rival an even bigger villain despite it being complete nonsense in canon? Can I have at least a balanced depiction of a Daemon who loved his wife and kids, even if they do think he was an ambitious reactionary?

An especially infuriating piece of fandom hypocrisy is that to make Daemon sexist, they have to demonize or erase all of the female influence in his life. Example one is that for his first 12 years, he was raised as the son of Daena the Defiant, who GRRM said in an SSM raised him alone in the Red Keep. Some people in fandom claim she was an ambitious woman who wanted a son so she could be Aegon’s Queen over Naerys, which is a claim so insulting in its wrongness (Daena could’ve been Queen in her own right, having an illegitimate son actually hurt her chances of queenship and a stable future, she referred to Daemon as hers alone so she never wanted to acknowledge his father, she never agreed to wed a man after Baelor, etc) I’m shocked the people who make it can call themselves feminists with a straight face. Others are kinder toward the Daena-Daemon relationship, saying that Daena must’ve died before Daemon was four so she couldn’t pass on her ideals of honor and self-sacrifice for one’s children; this completely ignores what GRRM said about Daena “raising” Daemon alone, meaning he knew her well enough to remember her. Both these ideas about Daena either demonize one of the most beautiful mother-son pairs in Targaryen history (she loved that kid so much she put him ahead of her own reputation and chance at being Queen. I cry.) or they take away her influence in order to claim that Daemon had no female role models growing up. A mother like Daena, strong-willed, independent, a sportswoman, would’ve doubtless have shaped Daemon’s opinions on women, and especially on mothers of bastards. He may have grown up knowing a woman didn’t necessarily need a husband to be happy, that she could shoot and ride as well as a man, and that a princess could with smallfolk and minor nobles on her own. She was far away from a submissive woman and was Daemon’s sole parent until he was 12, and you mean to tell me her son was a raging misogynist? Nope, I don’t buy it.

Fandom also erases Daemon’s other important female figure: Rohanne of Tyrosh. Elite Tyroshi women are most similar to elite Dornishwomen out of all the ladies of Westeros; I say this because the Archon’s daughter was to serve as a cupbearer for Prince Doran without having been betrothed to Quentyn, indicating that they are valued as political actors for their families outside of marriage alliances. Tyrosh is a mercantile society where the elites don’t like to fight, which traditionally equalizes roles between the sexes. Rohanne was the reason the Blackfyre cause survived for so long; she didn’t need help from Bittersteel escaping to her own fucking country, rather the landless Blackfyre supporters needed her protection after they lost everything at Redgrass. Without her giving them a stable base of operations (and certainly using her dowry to pay for their accommodations), they wouldn’t have been cohesive enough for Aegor to create the Golden Company. I realize that Rohanne has very little canonical characterization, but neither do Princess Daenerys and Myriah Martell, and that doesn’t stop Fandom from writing fanfics and meta on these two while ignoring Rohanne. On a similar note, prominent meta writers claim that the Blackfyre cause is obviously based on the Jacobites (no, Daemon Blackfyre was based in part on James Scott the Duke of Monmouth, who was staunchly anti-Jacobite. Just because these writers don’t know about British history in depth doesn’t mean that they can make spurious claims), and use this comparison to make headcanons for how the Blackfyre court in exile operated. For some Unfathomable reason, these headcanons never include the invaluable contributions that the female Stuarts made to the cause; Queen Mary and Princess Louisa were much more popular than the charmless James II and the drunken womanizer Charles III, having great relations with the French court and funding the education of the daughters of Jacobite exiles (it was said that even Queen Anne wept when Princess Louisa died, for she had hoped to wed her son to him). For a fandom who loves to make headcanons about minor female asoiaf characters, and loves to show off its (rather one-dimensional) knowledge of history, I see no such fics and metas for the female Blackfyres. I guess Feminism™ can’t be wasted on the wives and daughters of “traitors.” Just ask Sansa Stark.

To conclude, Daeron II was not a feminist king who raised the status of women in Westeros; in fact, he used his power as prince and king to banish Barba Bracken and wed Princess Elaena off to an ally. Daemon Blackfyre was raised by a strong single mother and was successfully married to an older foreign woman, and enjoyed female support for his cause, so calling him a misogynist seems like a leap to me. I’d make the argument that it’s Fandom with the misogyny problem, as they ignore the suffering, contributions, and characterization of female characters they don’t like in order to prop up a “sexism” narrative that contradicts canon. Just because other people bleat about how sexist, racist, and ableist Blackfyre supporters like me are, it doesn’t mean it’s true.

[daniellebest90]

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