wow why am i tagging this

2

A Month of Spook - (17/31)

↳ What’s This? - Fall Out Boy

hermione still flinches when ron’s hands brush her neck and she doesn’t understand why she does, because the cold, metal sting and everything that happened later, is painfully different from his soft palms. she stops wearing perfume, and starts casting protection charms.

remus despises his nature so much that the scars on his body are from his own hands. he knows what the taste of wolfsbane is when it doesn’t quite work; bitter and unmistakably sweet—it’s sirius’s blood when he goes too far.

ginny’s hands shake uncontrollably when she writes for hours at a time. the words will start to swim across the page and mix and scramble into anagrams. hi, i’m tom. what’s your name? hi, i’m tom. what’s your name? hi, i’m tom. what’s your na—

pansy knows what it’s like to cast unforgivables on first years. she learns how to enunciate the words with refined perfection, and learns how to want to hurt them. she throws up in the abandoned washroom after every lesson, and finds comfort in the absent arms of moaning myrtle.

ron faints everytime he apparates. he’ll wake up in hermione’s lap; his hair wet against his forehead, and his arms heavy with sweat. he always reaches for his shoulder and visibly relaxes when blood doesn’t rub off his fingers. he doesn’t know how to control his anger either, and feels the shame creep into his skin whenever hermione looks at his chest. he knows that she’s looking for the locket because he wishes that was what he could lay his blame on.

tom falls in love at the age of twelve—watched glimmering jewels glide down his own hand and pool at the bland tiles in the orphanage; started fires just to keep things lively. he collects followers like sheep in a mindless herd and finds that the acclaimed intricacies of a human brain is much more dull than he had imagined. he holds fear like a baby would with a blanket and spends nights wishing he had more time. he dies knowing he never had enough.

draco knows what it’s like to have your mind violated and out bare for all the world to see. he remembers severus saying that veritaserum has no taste, and discovers that he was wrong. the so called non dimensional potion is much too similar to the taste of the silent pleas he shouted when he watched snatchers salivate at the sight of his mother, or the copper droplets of red that sprinkled the surface of his cracked lips when he watched children slaughtered in the blink of an eye.

sirius has spent his entire childhood without the warmth of a mother’s embrace or the reassuring words of a father. he tells himself he’s okay with it—that he would rather have no family than one that wished his friends dead. he doesn’t know what to think when he has neither family or friends alive—the only embrace he will ever feel again is the one that lurks behind bars in his azkaban cell.

luna stops searching for wrackspurts, and instead, starts organizing her fathers office. she should be relieved when people stop calling her loony lovegood but all she feels is the absence of her imagination. war, it seemed, was not an adventure, but an old friend that came at inconvenient times in history.

harry doesn’t want to start a family because every father he has ever had has been hurt at his own expense. ginny rocks his body against her chest and brushes the tears away from his eyes as soon as they fall. she tells him that he’ll learn how to be a father—that it will come as naturally as magic had. the sharp pain that lodges inside of him whenever albus retreats back into his room is reflected so blatantly on ginny’s face. he wishes that he were a blind man so that he never had to see his mistakes out in the open, and rubs at his fading scar.

despite the years that had passed, it seemed that all was not well.

Have you ever really thought about how many users there are on tumblr? On ao3? Wattpad? Have you ever stopped to think about how many people are in your fandom? How that shy girl in the back of the class could be reading gay fanfiction right now? How that one football player sitting with his phone in his lap could be reblogging bxb fanart? Hell, even your teacher could spend their free time on tumblr! Fans are all around us and we have no idea. 

Miraculous Ladybug - Final Showdown

Adrien Agreste has always worked to keep a schedule. Even when he is late, it’s planned, he has a reason, he is prepared. 

Just once, Adrien Agreste was nearly too late. Just once, Chat Noir was completely unprepared.

Running, leaping, falling, and praying, Chat Noir flips over a building turret, hoping, needing to not be too late. The people of Paris see a black blur streaking towards the Notre Dame, or they would have were they not fleeing in fear, away from the vaunted cathedral. 

He’s opposite the Notre Dame, the only thing in his way the glittering Seine. Most days, he would be fascinated with its beauty. Today, all he can focus on is the whirl of reds and blacks and purples, clashing in a horrible dance atop one of Paris’ most coveted tourist spots. 

Just for a moment, the dance slows. Just for a moment, Adrien sees his ethereal Ladybug. 

Bruises of every color litter her skin, her flashy crimson suit worse for the wear. There’s blood flowing from her left ear and Adrien feels a fury rise in him, realizing how close Hawkmoth was to stealing the Ladybug Paris treasured. With the fury comes a crushing sense of guilt. Here a villain with aspirations of world domination, a man who craved nothing but the downfall of the admired teen superheroes, a monster, had been planning his great finale. 

And, where was Adrien?

In Spain, on vacation, enjoying Nathalie’s lilted Spanish and the cacophonous streets of Madrid. 

He had been taking a jovial stroll in the Plaza Mayor while Ladybug, sweet Ladybug, was calling out to him, asking for help from her other half, trusting him to be there. 

Adrien remembered, seeing her face plastered across an LED screen, “Una tragedia en Francia.” A tragedy in France.   

He had run. Ran and leaped and fallen and prayed.

Please. Please let me not be too late.

Now, Chat Noir zeroes in on his partner, using his baton to leap the Seine and skirting up the side of the Notre Dame with ease, landing a flying kick to Hawk Moth’s chest as the corrupt Miraculous holder gets a little too close to Ladybug for his liking. 

With the villain busy reeling, he whips towards his beloved where she’s frozen, startled. Then she’s moving, but not in a good way. Up close, he can see it’s much worse than he’s thought originally. She’s bruised, bloody, and beaten, and she’s tired. He can see in those beautiful blues how exhausted she is, having to transform and release over and over and over again. Over and over with no one to help her. Because he wasn’t there

She moves, and Adrien watches as Paris’ femme fatal collapses on herself, fatigued muscles finally giving out. No doubt, she’d been running on adrenaline for quite some time now, and he was her relief. The energy she had been forced to maintain drained out of her and then she was falling, but this time, he was there to catch her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats it like a mantra into her hair as he holds her to him as gently as possible, “I wasn’t even here, wasn’t here to support you, to fight with you, to protect you when you needed it most, I’m-”

“Shh, kitty, don’t apologize.”

The world around them is burning but she is calm and collected. She is a hero.

“But I have to. I wasn’t here, Ladybug, and now look at you, you’re hurt, you’re-”

She cuts him off a second time, and this time she’s smiling. Her lip is split and there’s a scratch across her cheek but she’s smiling.

“Listen to me,” her hands come up to cup his face, “This is not your fault. Okay? It’s not. There is no way you could have known, Chat Noir. I was just lucky enough to be around.”

She laughs then, rusty and mingled with a cough, but there’s love and trust and happiness in it and Adrien kind of really wants to cry. The sky is blue, the birds are singing, and there’s a final showdown taking place on the Notre Dame. Just a few miles away, civilians are enjoying the Louvre without much cause for distress. But to Chat Noir and Ladybug, their whole world is this ancient Gothic cathedral. Everything ends here. The big boss battle, as Nino would call it. Except this is real life and they don’t respawn if they die. 

“It’s going to be okay, kitty. I know what’s going to happen, what you have to do, she told me, Tikki told me. It won’t be easy, but you’re going to do it Chat Noir. Paris needs you to. I need you to. I believe in you.”

It’s fond and confusing, but then Ladybug is closing her eyes and Adrien feels the panic rising in his throat. No, no, no, not her, not her

There’s a soft glow at her feet, and Adrien watches, unable to move, as Ladybug becomes Marinette Dupain-Cheng. A small part of him is glad, glad its her, he had begun to see the signs and hoped against all hope it was her. Wonderful, clumsy, kind-hearted Marinette, with a penchant for sass, though only around his alter ego. There had been something so Ladybug about her, and as he had become closer to her as both Adrien and Chat Noir, he had become almost certain. 

Now, Chat Noir wishes it wasn’t her. Wishes it wasn’t Marinette’s body he was holding in his arms. The panic consumes him until his ear flutters, and he hears the telltale thump of her heartbeat, and relief slackens his body. His attention is taken by a weak squeaking by his ear, and he turns to see a wide-eyed, beat up looking, crimson Plagg. Marinette’s kwami. Before he can speak, she’s cutting him off. In a different situation he’d laugh at how alike both kwami and holder were. 

“There isn’t time to explain, but Marinette most likely told you something. Her body can’t take another transformation, but I have just enough energy left for one more. You need to let me into your Miraculous. I know it sounds crazy, but this is what Chat Noir and Ladybug were meant for. This is the power of the two most powerful Miraculouses.” 

It’s a lot to take in and Adrien honestly doesn’t understand, but he nods, setting his shoulders. He will avenge Marinette, and he will beat Hawk Moth. For the both of them. For the world.

He holds his ring hand out to the tired kwami, who takes a deep breath before diving head on, into his ring. For a moment, she simply disappears. Then Adrien feels it, the soft tingling and a buildup of, of something, a feeling. His suit begins to change, ebony fading to a pretty violet, golden whorls interspersed evenly. He feels his claws grow sharper, metallic gold, and gauntlets rise to encase his forearms. His baton alters as well, the ends tapering off to a point. At his hip, rests a yo-yo, similar to the one his partner is famous for. 

As the transformation completes, Adrien recognizes the emotion welling within him. Protectiveness. Ladybug is creation, Chat Noir is destruction. Together, they are protection from all evils that threaten the people they love.

Light glints off the tip of his gauntlet as Adrien Agreste storms towards the moth who flew too close to the light, eyes blazing gold.

author’s note - so while i do think it’s probably going to be mari who does the whole chat noir/ladybug combination jazz and i love that, i think it would work really well for adrien too? we’ve seen the lengths he has gone to to protect ladybug(he died for goodness’ sake) and i thought it would be interesting to write! thanks for reading :)

Me, going into the SU tag: Wonder what’s going on this time?

SU discourse: Rebecca Sugar is racist! Everyone is racist! Shut down the show! Cancel it because of this one drawing that they literally apologized for but that we totally disregarded! Point fingers at them for their mistakes!

Me, already exhausted: Wow. Of course. Why am I not surprised?

okay so i’ve been rewatching “hey arnold!” cause nostalgia right and i love these kids what the heck

also i don’t know how to draw football heads OR unibrows please give me death

me: wow i haven’t talked to my best friend in literally two weeks. i wonder if we’re ok or if they’re mad at me or something. our friendship could fall apart. i should probably send them a message and talk about it

me: *tags them in a meme instead*

The only one, part 2 (Ivar the Boneless x Reader)

Warnings : Just like part 1, it’s a bit sad at some point. Fluff.  
Word count: 5189, wow. Get some coffe, settle down and enjoy.

I am going to tag those who commented/reblogged part one + my taglist (don’t worry, it’s just for this fic):

@rachiieee @violetsonthelam @fl0wsb0thways @sconniebelle @dangerousvikings @nothingbuthappydays @lordavanti @dani-si @bitchccraft @kirah34 @ivartrash @ivars-heathen @thinemineours @taintedlittlesweetpea @lupy22 @melkorsbitch @favritts2 @hiding-in-the-backgroundx-x @imyourliquor-youremypoison @actuallyivar @kolvanismirk @cerdiwenofwales @ivarthefuckboy @uselesslyromantic @kduran04 @rrwilson66 @skadithegoddess @ivarbarnes @just-another-fangirl7 @neverlands-little-lost-girl

(Sorry for those who I can’t tag, I don’t know why it won’t work)

Originally posted by luke-vaughn

A/N: The only one was supposed to be a one-shot; but a lot of you enjoyed it and requested a part two. So who am I to deny it, huh? I am going to be honest though, I am not 100% satisfied with how it ended… I personally would have preferred for it to end differently; but you guys wanted to be like this so I obliged. I hope you like it!

Part One.

You can read my Alex imagines here and here. And my other Ivar imagine here.


Your lungs filled with thick cold air as you inhaled slowly through your mouth, your throat sore and dry. The sun high up in the sky blurred your vision as you blinked your tired eyes open, making you groan and bring your arm up to protect yourself from the irritating light. You could hear men talking and rummaging around you; but your fatigued mind did not let you make out the words they were saying – it was all just noise.

The surface you were lying on scratched at your back as you shuffled around, making you hiss in pain as your tunic caught in your wound. A sob ripped through your chest as you tried moving again, this time managing to put yourself into a sitting position, your back against the wooden surface. Taking in your surroundings, you only now realised you were on one of Floki’s boats.

Closing your eyes again and rolling your head back, you took in a deep breath. The familiar sound of waves hitting the boat’s wooden hull was like music to your ears and immediately put you at ease, the slow movement of the boat calming your nerves. You were going home. It was over.

But it made you wonder… How long have you been unconscious? How did things end? How is everyone? A low chuckle reached your ears as the last question crossed your mind; making all your worries vanish at once. A small smile taking over your tired features, you opened your eyes again and was met with baby-blue ones starring down at you. He was standing with the help of his crutches – looking so strong and intimidating like this.

His intense gaze made you blush, your cheeks turning a pale shade of red as you averted your eyes from him, focusing on your hands that rested in your lap instead. You played with the fur covering your legs; your fingers looked thinner and hurt as you moved them due to the wintry weather.

Carefully pushing himself down, Ivar sat next to you, his crutches abandoned on the side. He took your fragile hands in his bigger and warmer ones, caressing your knuckles with his thumbs. Heat spread through your whole body immediately and you let out a long, shaky breath; a small cloud of steam forming around you as you exhaled. The boy chuckled again as he watched you. Even this worn out, weak and hurt you were the most beautiful person he has ever seen.

His gaze dropped down to your side, locking on the blood stain that decorated your tunic and his stomach knotted with worry. The cloth stuck to your body as some blood still oozed out of the cut. It was nothing compared to a couple weeks ago, though. The essential oils and herbs the healer has been putting on it helped to ease the pain and stop the bleeding.

You had given him the scare of his life – he was so close to losing you forever. Never being able to see you again, hold you again… The blue-eyed boy shook his head as if to get rid of these thoughts; you were here and you were safe. Sure, your wound needed treatment and time to cure but he had faith in the healer and knew you’d be back on your feet in no time.

“You must be thirsty.” Ivar said and you nodded slowly. Your chapped lips and dry throat craved for water; just as much as your stomach craved for food. As if on cue, your belly growled – the sound so loud and not very human like, it caught you off guard. Ivar’s soft lips curved into a smile once more as he reached behind him, taking a cup in his hand then bringing it to your mouth.

Usually you would have protested and mock him even, snatching the cup from him. But you knew your body was frail and you needed assistance, so you let him guide the cup to your lips without protest. You almost moaned out loud when the water touched your tongue; eagerly opening your mouth wider so you could drink faster, causing some of it to spill and run down your neck. You could feel the drink flow down your throat, all the way down to your stomach. It was a strange but pleasant feeling. All too soon the water was gone, and you asked for a refill. Ivar obliged, repeating the process until you were satisfied. He handed you a piece of bread then, setting on your right and letting you eat in peace while he just watched. It was hard as a rock, old and didn’t have much taste but was more than enough to deal with your hunger.

“How long?” You asked shorty once you swallowed the last bite, not trusting your voice to form a longer sentence. It was raspy and quiet but you knew he heard you; he was sitting so close to you – your arms and legs touching, his body heat radiating and warming you up, his smell taking over your senses.

“You’ve been in and out of it for almost three weeks.” He mumbled, his blue eyes meeting yours once more. They were filled with worry but you could see the relief in them too. Three weeks. So many things must have happened. Men must have died, decisions have been taken – and you couldn’t help with any of it. You were useless, a burden. Scrunching your eyebrows together, you bowed your head in shame; guilt taking over you. Ivar seemed to notice that as he took hold of your hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered and he frowned, confusion written over his beautiful face. To say that you felt bad would be an understatement. You felt terrible; you felt as if you’ve failed them all, disappointed them all. You followed Ivar to England to help him; not to get hurt and be a burden to everyone. They should have left you on the battlefield. They should have let you bleed to death. Your mind went dizzy with all these thoughts; culpability eating you alive. Your breath quickened and your palms felt sweaty, the thumping in your ears growing louder.

“Y/N.” Ivar’s voice was soft as he called your name, his fingers tapping on your chin to get your attention. “It’s not your fault, love.” There it was again, that word. It’s crazy, the effect it had on you when it came from him. It instantly calmed your nerves, your breathing slowing down to its normal pace as you made eye contact again.

His eyes were your safe place and you couldn’t help but get a little dreamy while starring into them, forgetting it wasn’t just the two of you but that there were men surrounding you both. Bringing your trembling hand up to cup his cheek, you rested it there, just enjoying having him so close to you again. His lips brushed against your fingers, kissing every single one of them before he rubbed his cheek into your small hand, closing his eyes as he breathed out slowly, enjoying the peaceful moment.

But it was short-lived as someone cleared their throat, interrupting the moment rudely. Ivar opened his eyes and rolled them exaggeratedly before turning around, his eyes sending draggers at whoever disturbed you. You looked up as well, your eyes finding a young brunette girl standing nearby, a bowl filled with what looked like ointment in one hand and a cloth in the other. You could tell she was uncomfortable standing here, her wide eyes moving from Ivar to you, then to him again. She went to say something, her lips parting a bit, but was cut off short by the crippled boy.

“I’ll do it.” He said simply, mentioning for her to place the things next to him. She gulped loudly but did as she was told, rushing away as quickly as she could once the bowl and cloth were set on a little wooden surface on Ivar’s right. “Here, lift your tunic.” He said as he set the bowl in his lap, taking some of the ointment with his fingers.  

Groaning, your fingers gripped at the fabric, slowly pushing it up and revealing your side. It stung as you tore off your tunic that was almost glued to your skin, a few droplets of blood dripping from the open wound. It did not look too bad, you thought. The skin around it was red and swollen, but the cut itself wasn’t too deep nor infected. Sure, it wasn’t a pretty sight but you’ve seen worse.

You sighed in relief and clenched your wrists around the fabric, bringing it up just underneath your breasts to leave Ivar enough space. With a short nod you reassured him you were ready and the prince went to work. The ointment felt cool against your burning skin, soothing the pain. The smell of hvönn filled your nostrils and it somehow helped you calm down, letting your body rest against the wood. You watched in awe as Ivar spread the greenish substance over your side; his brows furrowed in focus and his tongue pocking out of his mouth, wetting his lips. He must have been the one to do it when you were unconscious. The thought made you smile; the fact that he took care of you himself instead of letting a thrall do it warmed your heart and brought another rush of heat to your cheeks.  

You did not take your eyes off of him until he was done, placing the new cloth on the wound before pulling your tunic back over it. A light blush crept onto his neck when he caught you watching him, which drew a quiet giggle out of you.

“You should rest, Y/N. We’ll be home soon.” He said softly, crawling closer to you, his face only inches away from yours. You were going to protest, say that you’ve been asleep for almost three weeks but your body seemed to agree with the young prince, as a yawn escaped you. “Get some sleep, I’ll be right there when you wake up.” He promised and placed a kiss on your forehead, brushing your hair away from your face with his calloused fingers. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you moved your head up and down, agreeing with his proposition. Your eyelids felt heavy as you rested your head on his shoulder once he had settled back down next to you, his hand gripping yours once more. You knew it would only take a few minutes for you to fall asleep again, but you did not mind as you knew he would be there when you wake up again.


Only he wasn’t. When you opened your eyes again you were met with darkness and silence. You weren’t on the boat anymore. You were in a bed, covered with two thick furs that smelled like home. It was your bed, you realised.

Sitting up abruptly, you whined as a wave of pain shot through your entire body, urgently placing a hand on your pulsing side in an attempt to sooth it. It did not work, however, and you groaned again. You decided to ignore the ache and let your eyes scan the room you were in. It was dark as the curtains were closed, but you could tell it was your cabin. You were finally home.

Laying back down carefully, you puffed, your head resting on your soft pillow. You couldn’t help the smile that spread over your face. Bringing your hands up, you covered your eyes and let out a short breathy laugh. You were finally home. After all those long months, all those days spend in the chilly English air, you were eventually back in your warm little cabin.

Nothing has changed here, which reassured you; it meant no one came here during your absence. Well nothing expect for the basket of fresh fruits and the pitcher filled with what you hoped to be water that stood on the crafted table near your bed you have noticed only now.

Grabbing an apple from the basket, you took a bite out of it. Chewing it slowly you enjoyed the sweet taste of the juicy fruit, swallowing it quickly before taking another bite. Your mind went to Ivar as you laid alone in your bed. Where was he? He promised he’d be there. You brushed it off thought, he was a prince of Kattegat, after all. Surely he had important meetings to attend to; serious matters to discuss after such a raid. You believed he would pay you a visit soon.

But as days passed, Ivar had yet to show up. You were worried at first; concerned that something might have happened to him, that maybe he was hurt. But the thrall that was assigned to look after you while your wound was still curing told you that Ivar was in fact feeling well, living with his soon-to-be wife in their new home in the woods.

It felt as if the world stopped spinning right then, as if your heart stopped beating. You did not know how to deal with the fact that the man you loved left you, again, for the exact same reason.

You’d cry yourself to sleep every night since, your mind constantly filled with images of him, images of the two of you together. But they were soon replaced by images of him with the blonde princess. You learnt that Sohvi was her name. It was a beautiful name, you had to admit. A beautiful woman with a beautiful name.

You did not understand why he has done this. Why did he make promises if he knew he wasn’t going to keep them? He had promised you things back in England; admitted his feelings and swore you two would be together. Your heart was in constant pain and your mind uncertain, confused. Didn’t he love you, after all? Did he change his mind when he saw her again? Did he think you were going to die, so he decided to stay with her?

These questions hunted you for weeks. Weeks that you’ve spent alone in your little cabin. Hvitserk and Ubbe would visit you from time to time, bringing you some food and just keeping you company. You were very thankful for that; you might have gone crazy if it weren’t for them. Both Ragnarssons avoided the subject of the crippled prince, though; but you knew they knew. You could see it in their eyes; they would exchange knowing looks when you brought up his name.

And it confused you even more to know that Ivar has finally let his brothers know about the two of you, yet decided to marry someone else.


“Gods, what happened to you?” You gasped as Ubbe entered your hut, standing up from your bed quickly and walking over to him. You’ve been feeling much better the last couple of days, finally being able to get up without being in too much pain. Ubbe’s face was covered in mud, leaves stuck in his hair, his clothes ripped – he seemed defeated and exhausted, yet he managed to send a smile your way, showing you his white teeth.

“I was training with Hvitserk and Ivar.” He said, walking past you and towards your table, placing the meat and vegetables he has brought for you on it. “And I lost.” He shrugged, turning around to face you. You nodded at his words, trying hard to ignore the sensation in your belly at the mention of the youngest brother. You missed him dearly. Your feet carried you back to your bed, your head hanging low as you walked.

Silence fell over the two of you, the tension in the air growing thicker. You had thought a lot since the last time he had visited you and you had a lot of questions to ask, all of them about Ivar, but you didn’t know where to start. Bringing your hand up to your mouth, you started biting at your nails nervously, your eyes focused on the dirty floor. You should clean up a little bit next time.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the room, growing closer and closer to you and soon enough you felt the bed dip next to you under Ubbe’s weight as he sat down. He threw his legs in front of him, his heels hitting the floor with a loud thump. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move and trying to read your body language.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” He asked, confused by the change in your attitude. You seemed just fine when he barged in but then closed off when he mentioned… His eyes widened as he realised his mistake, sighing and shaking his head, disappointed by himself. Things were going so well until now; not once has he brought Ivar up in a conversation. But in a moment of inattention he has ruined everything.

“How is he?” You voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as you spoke. Turning to face him, you were met with a very perturbed Ubbe. He blinked rapidly as his mouth opened and closed a few times, searching for the right words.

“Who?” Was the only thing that came to his mind. He mentally cursed himself at how stupid it sounded but decided to go with it, furrowing his brows slightly as if he truly had no clue who you were asking about.

“You know very well, Ubbe.” Your eyes rolled on themselves, you were clearly annoyed by him already. “Ivar.” The Viking sighed, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Seeing as he was not going to talk, you continued, pushing him on. “Why hasn’t he come to visit?” You felt your heart pinch and your voice cracked at the last word, Ubbe’s eyes immediately turning to you.

“He’s been… busy.” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. Busy? He was too busy to come and see you?

“Oh…” You could tell he was feeling uncomfortable; playing with his hands to distract himself, avoiding your gaze. But you needed answers, and you needed them now. “Busy with what?” You dared to ask, looking up at him expectantly with big eyes. Ubbe groaned and cursed under his breath. What was the point in lying to you, anyway? You were going to learn it sooner or later, might as well hear it from him.

“Wedding preparations.” His eyes were filled with pity, just as much as the small smile he gave you. Ivar was getting married. It was official. And as if that wasn’t enough, the blonde man continued. “It’s taking place tomorrow morning at the Great hall.” Your stomach dropped at that, you felt as if all air left your lungs at once. Tomorrow? You couldn’t believe what he was saying. Tears gathered in your eyes and soon enough they were freely running down your cheeks. You couldn’t even control it nor stop it, what was the point anyway?

The sob that ripped through your chest startled Ubbe but he quickly recovered and scooped over to you, throwing his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. His large hands ran up and down your back in a comforting manner as you cried your eyes out, your small hands fisting at his tunic.

You did not understand why your body reacted like this. You knew Ivar was getting married, the thrall had told you. But it seemed so much more real coming from his brother’s mouth. And it hurt even more than the first time. You still had hope that the youngest prince of Kattegat was going to show up at your door; but now your dreams were crushed. You had no hope to hold onto anymore.

Rocking your fragile body back and forth, the older Ragnarsson sighed. He hated seeing you like this; so broken and sad – all because of his stupid little brother. It was no secret to anyone in Kattegat that you were dear to all of the sons of Ragnar, having grown up with them. You were like a sister to all of them; all of them but Ivar.

Although you had kept your relationship a secret, Ubbe knew there was something going on between his crippled brother and yourself. The way Ivar looked at you, the way he acted around you – so unlike himself, did not go unnoticed by the Viking. It was pretty obvious to him that there was something there. He wasn’t sure if it was love, or if it was just physical, but there was something.

So when his younger brother admitted having had a relationship with you before sailing off to England and wishing to get back to you instead of marrying Sohvi, he was far from surprised. He encouraged the idea and even helped his younger brother winning you over again.  

But Ivar the Boneless was a strange individual whom Ubbe often had troubles understanding. Bewilderment and annoyance was all he felt when Ivar announced that the wedding was taking place, after all. He had tried talking him out of it, tried to understand what went through his little brother’s mind but to no avail, as the dark-haired boy would always bluntly tell him off, claiming it was none of his business.

Ubbe stayed until you had no more strength, no more tears to shed. He tucked you into your bed after taking a look at your wound which to his relief was almost all gone, wrapping the soft furs around you.

Glancing at you once more he took in your puffy red cheeks and messy hair. Ubbe let out a slow breath before leaving your hut, closing the door behind him carefully as to not wake you up. He could only hope you’ll get better soon; you were worth so much more than the idiot that he called his brother.


It was a beautiful day – the sun was shining up in the cloudless sky, the air warm but not unbearably hot. A perfect day for a perfect wedding.

When you walked into the Great hall, everyone was already there, waiting for the ceremony to begin. It was the event of the year, after all. A son of Ragnar getting married.

Your eyes caught Ubbe’s as you made your way to the back of the room. Yes, you decided to attend to the wedding even though you hadn’t been officially invited, but you weren’t going to stand at the front between the Ragnarssons. That would have been too much for you to handle. You nodded at him from where you were standing, acknowledging him and his brothers. You could see in his eyes that he did not know how to react, so you gave him the warmest smile you could manage, trying to reassure him, and yourself on the same occasion.

Taking in your surroundings, you noticed how the place has been decorated. Little red and yellow flowers and candles everywhere, multiple furs covering the benches, gold decorating the tables.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the main door opened, the heavy wood slamming against the walls. You did not have to turn around to know that it was him, and you knew he was using his crutches for you could hear them clicking against the hard floor, dragging his feet behind.

Not daring to turn around, you waited for Ivar to make his way to the front. Only then you saw him. And Gods, was he a sight to behold. His dark hair braided tightly made him look irresistible, his unusually clean clothes accentuating his frame perfectly. He looked incredible and you couldn’t help but to envy his soon-to-be wife.

You were glad he did not turn around for you did not know how you’d have reacted if he saw you. You did not come here to ruin the wedding; you came because it was an important day for Ivar. And even though you weren’t the one he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with; you felt the need to be there.

Shouts and whistles coming from the crowd brought you back from your thoughts. Turning around you immediately understood why. In walked Sohvi, wearing a splendid red dress, a flower crown matching the ones decorating the place resting at the top of her head. Her long blonde hair was braided as well, a few lose strands falling at the sides of her face. Your heart felt heavy in your ribcage as it started beating faster. She looked gorgeous, and it made you regret coming here.

Your eyes followed her body as she walked to the front; standing next to Ivar. And that’s when the inevitable happened – he had noticed you. Your cheeks turned crimson red instantly, your palms growing sweaty. This was a really bad idea. Ivar’s blue eyes were focused on you as he totally ignored the old woman leading the wedding talking to him. Fuck. You thought, what now?

You saw the woman grab the sword, turning to Sohvi and handing it to her. The blonde took a hold of it slowly, her movements unsure. She was a lady, after all, not a warrior – it was probably the first time she held a sword in her entire life. The old woman turned to Ivar then, calling out his name for him to take his sword. But he didn’t, his gaze holding yours strongly.

You gulped as people started whispering, wondering what was happening. A few of them turning around, their eyes landing on you. What was he doing?

A few seconds passed, the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat and the whispers around you. You thought you even heard your name being called a few times, but you weren’t sure. You were beyond uncomfortable by now, having everyone’s attention on you was not something you enjoyed nor expected that day.

After a few more seconds, you couldn’t take it anymore. Breaking the eye contact you quickly turned around, ready to leave the Great hall. But the words that left Ivar’s mouth made you stop right in your tracks.

“I can’t.” He simply announced, his voice stern and loud. Shocked gasps echoed through the spacious room, people getting agitated. “I cannot marry Sohvi; not when my heart belongs to someone else.” That did it for you. Adrenaline pumping through your veins, your whole face heating up. What the hell was going on?

Turning back around you found Ivar standing a bit closer to you. From the corner of your eye you could see Ubbe, a knowing smile on his face as he talked to the rest of his brothers vividly. You could see Sohvi puffing as well, a permanent scowl adoring her once beautiful features as Lagertha and Bjorn joined her at the front, both sending draggers at you. Suddenly it all made sense to you. Oh, how stupid you felt only now realising the princess was somehow related to your new Queen.

People were practically shouting around you; all sharing their opinion on what just happened. Ivar’s words surely brought up rumours. But you couldn’t focus on their words, not when Ivar was making his way over slowly, assisted by his crutches. You were tempted to go help him out, but knew better and stayed put, waiting for him patiently.

The prince gave you a small unsure smile once he reached you and you took hold oh his hand, helping him to regain his balance. He scoffed loud enough only for you to hear but accepted your help, holding onto your hand tighter while throwing his other arm around your shoulders. Looking at you then turning to the crowd again, he gestured to his eldest brother, his mother and the bride, his eyebrows knitted as he talked.

“I am not going to marry Sohvi just because you want me to, brother.” The blue-eyed man addressed his eldest brother, voice filled with venom. ‘I do not care that she is a princess. I do not love her.” He continued, his eyes then moving back to you. “It’s Y/N that I wish to marry; if she’ll have me.”

You did not know what to say. You loved Ivar; to the moon and back. You’d do anything for him, but he has caused you so much pain in so little time… You did not want to risk it anymore.

Panic flashed through his eyes as he saw the hesitation in yours. He moved closer to you, his mouth only an inch form your ear; you could feel his hot breath on your skin as he whispered to you: “I love you, Y/N. With all my heart. And I am so deeply sorry, but I’ll make it up to you; I’ll explain everything.”

People’s gazes were still heavy on you both; all villagers waiting for your answer almost as impatiently as Ivar. You wanted to believe in his words, and after one glance thrown at him; you did. His blue eyes were sincere, you could tell, the small smile genuine. You knew you could trust him; he would never hurt you, he never did on purpose. He was only human, after all. He made mistakes just like everyone, and you were willing to give him one more chance. Nodding your head slowly, you smiled back at him, causing his smile to grow wider and brighter.

“I would love for you to be my husband, Ivar.” You said joyfully. The crowd erupted in cheers, making you hide your embarrassed face in Ivar’s neck. The villagers were glad that their prince was going to marry someone he truly loved and knew instead of a stranger.

Once you’ve calmed down and pulled away, Ivar took you by surprise, crashing his lips into yours in a short yet passionate kiss; giving you a small lick and bite before pulling away.

“Let’s do it, then.” He said; pulling you in the direction of the old lady who was called to lead the ceremony. She was smiling as well, just like most of the guests. Ivar had a strong grip on you, the arm wrapped around your shoulder pulling you even closer to him as you walked together, as if he was afraid of letting you go; scared you might change your mind and run away.

But you had no intention of doing so. This was all you’ve ever dreamed of since the day you realised you loved him over five years ago. Sure, there have been ups and downs, but it was all worth it in the end. It created your very unique story.

One look at Ivar’s beaming face made all your doubts vanish. You needed him like you need air; you did not see yourself with anyone else but him… And he was finally going to be yours, and you his. It made your heart melt; picturing your future together. You exchanged one more hopeful look as you reached the front, hand in hand. You couldn’t be happier. 


A/N: So… this is it guys. I’d really love to hear what you think about it. I personally thinkthey shouldn’t have ended up together… But it’s what you all wanted. Part one got so many comments, it warmed my heart. Please, let me know what you think of it, even if it’s not all positive.  

all life is strange ship prompts

Most of these prompts I’ve basically discarded or they’ve already been written, but I have many prompt ideas so here’s small little ideas for you guys (Sorry, I’m Pricefield trash so there’s a ton of those, but please send me your story so I can read them if you do use one of these ideas please because I like reading new life is strange fanfics):

Pricefield:
- “We experimented over wine-tasting sessions as kids, but now we’re adults meeting each other for the first time in five years and oh my god is that sexual tension between us?”
- “I’m terrified of men because of something that happened in the past, and Rachel and Chloe are trying to make me feel comfortable with Warren but I’m slowly realizing that it’s not Warren that my eyes have been focused on.”
- “Warren keeps asking me to the drive-in so I asked my best friend Chloe for advice, so now we’re fake dating but I think I’m really getting used to this idea.”
- “This punk girl keeps on coming to the homeless shelter at the same time each week purchasing a shit ton of water bottles, canned chili, and loaves of bread with money that comes from God-knows-where but holy shit, she’s actually royalty whose parents are trying to keep her name under wraps.”
- “I recited one of my poems at a poetry slam about my childhood best friend, turns out she was there listening to my every word and now I’m humiliated.”
- “I dared Max to kiss me, but her nose started bleeding and I can tell she’s rewinded more than once and she just told me not to pull back because apparently, that’s what’s going to happen.”
- “Max and I are at her Seattle home, and I just discovered a treehouse her Dad built for her. I’m sorry, Ryan, I’m using this opportunity alone with your daughter to try and seduce her.”


Marshfield:
- “One of the pieces you played on the violin is something I recognized, and you anonymously (even though I know it was you) slid a tape under the door of that piece on Valentines day.”
- “It started raining on our tea date, so we ran inside the cafe with our clothes dripping wet but wow, Kate, you’re so cute with your hair pulled out of the bun.”
- “Max has been taking photos for the children’s book I’m writing and one of the photos she took was of the sunset with a sweet quote on it and I think I’m blushing.”
- “We decided to skip class, and we went to the park with Alice in the middle of the day and wow, Max’s smile is so beautiful. Am I really thinking this?”
- “After Max saved me off that rooftop, all I’ve been thinking about is how much she’s supported me over the past month and a half she’s known me and according to google, I have a crush on Max.”


Chasefield:
- “I’ve been talking to this girl online and turns out, she’s just like me and I’m starting to dig her. Turns out when I meet her, she’s one of the girls I personally resent.”
- “I ended up saving your ass from getting eaten by a crocodile while we’re camping but I still hate you. Okay, so maybe that’s not the case. What’s it to you?”
- “Even though you’re trouble, you still invited me to your celebration banquet after getting one of your photos in your parents gallery and we seem to get along just fine when we genuinely talk to each other. Wait, are you flirting with me now?”
- “We accidentally hooked up in the middle of a party involving a shit ton of alcohol and now I’m trying to figure out how to approach you about it. Turns out, you were pretty sober during the party and you weren’t exactly rejecting my advances.”
- “You were holding my arms while I rewinded to try and erase the argument we just had, but turns out my rewind power doesn’t work on you, and now you’re freaking out asking me what the fuck is going on but at least we’re on good terms now, right? I’m now this God-like person to you, and now you’re scared yet intrigued by me.”

Grahamfield:
- “So maybe the drive-in didn’t help us progress in our relationship, but we definitely managed to hook up after an experiment gone wrong.”
- “We’re graduating out of Blackwell Academy, and I didn’t expect to blush furiously and freeze onstage when you blew a kiss in my direction.”
- “I’m tutoring you in chemistry since you’re not doing too great in it, turns out there’s only one type of chemistry you’re interested in.”
- “I fell asleep in your dorm room during a movie marathon of Harry Potter, and I woke up to you staring at me affectionately and I’m 95% sure I’m drooling.”
- “You convinced me to head to Comic Con with you, but you’re the only one cosplaying while I’m taking a ton of pictures of your nerdy self. I think this side of you is kind of cute.”


Chaseprice:
- “I ended up blackmailing Victoria after she pulled some shit on my best friend Max, so now she’s willing to do anything I say. And I mean anything.”
- “It’s prom night, and since Nathan hates prom, I’m stuck with the single group of people which includes Chloe in a tux and wow is it getting hot in here?”
- “Stop bothering me by coming up to my dorm room and knocking on it. Oh wait, you’re actually dropping off flowers this time?”
- “Nathan, I know this is gonna sound weird but I think the blue haired girl I keep on seeing around Blackwell putting up those Rachel Amber posters is really hot. How do I approach her?”
- “Chloe keeps on pranking me, turns out she doesn’t know how to express her feelings towards me.”


Ambrice:
- “At the lighthouse, I was thinking about ending my life when you came up behind me and started a conversation with me about something stupid, but you fucking saved my life.”
- “We nearly got busted for smoking pot in the parking lot of a restaurant, but it’s okay because we were making out the majority of the time so that’s partly why I didn’t notice.”
- “After getting really high together, both of us almost got hit by a car when we realized it was parked and now we’re making out against said car.”
- “We’re at a party together playing truth or dare and someone just dared me to kiss you but wow, that’s not going to be the first time I’m going to kiss you.”
- “Both of us end up in Los Angeles, and I’m not sure what is going on but I think you’ve been more touchy-feely this trip than throughout our entire friendship.”


Caulscott (Max/Nathan):

- “I’m starting to get obsessed with this version of you because you’re changing from snoopy nerd into this untouchable badass within this entire week.”
- “After you overheard of my situation with Mr. Jefferson on accident, you secretly called the police and arrested him and I’ve never felt so relieved and happy in my life.”
- “You visited me in the hospital and gave me a hug, and instead my heart is going out to you because you really do seem to care even though I give you so much shit in school.”
- “Max has been reluctantly taking care of me while I’ve been sick since Victoria can’t do it because she’s been out of town visiting family, but she’s been so sweet to me so I don’t mind the arrangement.”
- “I recognized Nathan at the aquarium spending the majority of the time with the whales, and there was this big cheesy smile on his face that immediately grabbed my attention. Now that I’m noticing it, this is my first time seeing Nathan smile…and it’s nice.”


Chasescott:
- “Victoria keeps telling me to find a girlfriend, but is she not getting the fact that I want to date her instead? Sheesh.”
- “Both of us don’t ever bring up about how we discussed marrying each other in middle school until we both got really high together and ended up talking about that.”
- “My Dad mistakes Victoria for my girlfriend, and when she vehemently denies, for some reason, I feel upset over it and correct her surprising Victoria and myself.”
- “We’re playing Laser Tag together one night but you kissed me out of nowhere in the middle of the game, and what the fuck is our relationship now? Are we best friends? Lovers?”
- “When she asked what my type was, I accidentally made it obvious that she was my type and now she’s giving me a funny look but it doesn’t seem to be a bad look either.”


Grahamscott (Nathan/Warren):
- “You were in the locker room getting dressed, and WOW I just noticed your six pack. Why am I thinking so much over this?”
- “You’ve changed from nerdy boy to hardass, and for some reason, that’s my type? I think I’m starting to get curious about you now.”
- “We ran into each other in a gay bar, and I’ve never seen both of us look so ashamed and embarrassed in my life.”
- “I ended up in the hospital due to a really bad car accident, and you were the first person I woke up to. Apparently you slept by my bedside and didn’t leave my side once.”
- “I’ve been talking to him on grindr, but he doesn’t know that I have a crush on him. Yet.”


Hellalujah (Kate/Chloe):
- “You came up to me on campus and invited me to your Church group. Instead of being interested in that, now I’m interested in you.”
- “Alice seemed to have gotten out again and it’s raining, but the only person whose around to help is me. You’ve been coming over everyday after school after discovering I’m sick because of that to make me soup and cheer me up whoops did I mention I’m starting to have feelings for you?”
- “You’re the type of person I want to be: Free to make any decision I want, and finally I’m given that opportunity when you and I decide to smoke weed together in private and now I’m feeling pretty good about everything and you.”
- “I’m in cultural anthropology and we’re in a heated discussion about opposites attracting, yet you’re telling me they don’t but I’m going to prove to you they do.”


Amberpricefield:
- “Chloe tried to make Max breakfast since it’s her birthday and Chloe totally fucked up and burnt all the food so now we’re eating burnt toast but it’s whatever, we love Chloe anyway.”
- “I just walked in on Chloe and Rachel hooking up which got awkward really fast, and I told them to continue and I guess I joined in.”
- “We’re roadtripping but Chloe gets lost and we end up staying the night in a cabin since we’re nearby a campsite when I confess that I’ve never been kissed and both girls end up fighting over kissing me.”
- “We’re at a Halsey concert and they’re playing our song whenever both of us realize how Max is more than ready for the mosh pit.”


Pricemarshfield:

- “We decided to go food shopping, and Chloe keeps on throwing junk food into the basket but Kate keeps on putting the junk food back in when Max isn’t looking.”
- “Both me and Max come out to Kate about our relationship when she admits that she’s always been a little bicurious herself. A joke about that quickly turns serious.”
- “I just took down Kate’s viral video by going into Victoria’s youtube account, and turns out after watching it, Kate kissed a wasted Chloe. But Kate ends up being so relieved she kisses me too? So now she’s held responsible for both of us.”
- “Max brought us to the zoo and she’s torn between me wanting to see the insect exhibit and Kate wanting to stay where she is because Kate really dislikes insects so Max decides to compensate for the entire party by coming up with an idea all of us will enjoy.”


Bonus:
Frank-N-Beans:

- “As a kid, I used to hate beans but whatever these beans are, they’ve gotten me addicted to beans and now my nickname is Frank-N-Beans.”



different types of bts stans
  • n°1 : wow i don't get what this MV is about but it's so deep and meaningful!!!11!1!
  • n°2 : *writes a 50 pages essay about the whole concept*
  • n°3 : why are there like 5643 theories that are completely different from each other??
  • n°4 : lmao they're just on crack and y'all need to chill
  • n°5 : *actually impressed by the symbolism and how everything is connected even tho they don't understand everything*
  • n°6 : am i high or are they high
  • n°7 : does bts even know what their MVs mean
3

Super dobe! Pages 6-8

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