x aisle

  • MC: *at the alter, checking their watch* I can't believe he's not here yet..
  • Seven: *dramatically throwing open the doors* THE GROOM IS HERE! I'M HERE AND I'M QUEER
  • MC:
  • MC: You were late on purpose just so you could say that, weren't you?
  • Seven:
But love doesn’t make sense. You can’t logic your way into or out of it, love is totally nonsensical. But we have to keep doing it or else we’re lost and love is dead and humanity should just pack it in. Because love is the best thing we do.
—  ted mosby doing the thing he does best, talking about love
2

Hello, everyone! As you may have noticed, I’m a huge history nerd, and I’d die to see this film made. You may know the story, how it ends, who successed who, but do you know how it begins? I wouldn’t mind this being a show either, but it deserves to be a large costume production and it to be historically accurate. It would cover the tale of Henry’s conquest and marriage to Elizabeth, the beginning of England’s most notorious dynasty.

1.Emilia Clarke as Elizabeth of York

The first Tudor Queen, beloved consort to Henry VII. HAd an idilyc childhood, until her father died. Her uncle locked her brothers up, was crowned as Richard III until the battle of Bosworth on August 22 1485. She married Henry and became mother to Arthur, Margaret, Henry, Elizabeth, Edmund and Catherine. Unfortunately, the last 3 didn’t reach mature age. She was known to be kind and gentle, a loving and devoted mother. She died after her 7th childbirth, Henry mourned her deeply. What I want in Emilia’s performace is strenght and elegance, with a lot of bravery and cunning. Also charm and sweetness, as she was for a long time England’s most beloved Queen. Her grandaughter, Elizabeth I was named in her honour.

2. Kit Harington as Henry VII

An exile, hidden away most of his childhood, sole carrier of the Lancastrian claim, the infamous Welsh Dragon, the man who resurrected England… He mended a kingdom with the help of his beloved Queen, he forged alliances and changed the landscape of English politics, but he did struggle with paranoia and fears of being as a hunted child. I want Kit to play off his ambition well, but also his tender and loving relationship with his family. And please no ban-everything-white Phillipa Gregory bs. Henry was a smart man, portray him as such. Btw, DID I MENTION HE HAD NO MISTRESSES?

3.Dame Helen Mirren as Margaret Beaufort

I think this one needs no further explanation, Maggie B was a titan and a politician like no other, I shall leave this in the hands of this majestic woman. And I need to see a proper, well written relationship with Henry.

4.Joely Richardson as Elizabeth Woodvile

She’d have a brief appearance, just to remind everyone who she is. She was a smart, cunning woman, I want to see a fleshed out relationship between her and her daughters. And please no ridiculous plots, please.

5.Claire Foy as Cecily of York

She and Elizabeth were close, they were sisters and I really need to see a beautiful bond between them. I want them to be there, mourn their mother together, and celebrate their lives together.

6.Liam Cunnigham as Jasper Tudor

The godfather of the Tudor dynasty, Henry’s father figure and advisor. Only Liam could play this

7.Colin Firth as Lord Stanley

Margaret’s husband, the money maker of that house, he’s there to scam and stay.

8. Aisling Franciosi as Margaret Plantagenet

She’s another family member of the remaining Yorks, but I really need to see a fleshed out relationship with Bess, Cecily and little Warwick.

Warnings and Wishes

This is just a little drabble for my This Ends Tonight story.

I can’t write this as a complete and linear story. I have been writing a lot of pieces for this in the form of vignettes or snapshots. Every one takes place with Ivar and his wife in bed at the end of a given day, recounting something that happened between them on whichever given day, It is all completely out of order but it is just what feels best for this story.

warnings:boobs…that is about it. XD

Originally posted by whenimaunicorn




“No, they are too sensitive. Now stop whining like a baby. It isn’t very becoming of you, Husband.”

“Come on, I just want to play with them a little,” Ivar pleaded. Gliding his hands up his wife’s body, he gave her breasts a playful squeeze and added ”they have gotten so…fun.”

“Ow, not so hard. What is wrong with you?” Wincing, she shot a disapproving look over her shoulder and grasped her husband’s wrists and pushed his hands down, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.

Aisling’s already shapely breasts had grown full and heavy and Ivar couldn’t keep his hands off of them. She had been telling him for weeks now to stop touching them, they are sore, but he wouldn’t stop. He took every opportunity he could to slap or grab at them when she wasn’t looking. She had told him only that morning in bed after they had woken up, not to touch them anymore and  literally said “My nipples are off limits. They are officially off limits until I tell you otherwise.” Ivar had just looked at her incredulously and said, “You can’t possibly mean that.”  Not even thirty minutes later, when he had went to give her a goodbye kiss, he reached out and pinched her nipple, hard. He had gotten a good laugh out of it too. Ivar was lucky that she was still in bed, it gave him enough time to put a distance between them before her hand could reach his crotch and return his rude action. She had come close. As if all that wasn’t bad enough, he had also been following her around and hovering over her like a shadow. 

“I was being gentle.” he lied, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in snugly to his chest. Nosing her hair aside, Ivar buried his face in her neck and started kissing it softly, grinding his hips against her backside. When she whimpered and pressed back into him, she dropped her guard along with her arms and Ivar took the opportunity to greedily paw at her again.

“Ivar, really?! How many times do I have to tell you to stop before you listen? They. Hurt.“

“I can’t help it,” he groaned in apology. Grinding into her again, he rubbed her nipples through her sleep gown, rolling them gently between his thumbs and forefingers, “but I can play nice, I promise.”

“I tell you that they are sore, and you hear ‘grope them more’.“  she scolded him, but didn’t move to stop his attentions.

Ivar pinched a little harder and hummed a little sound in agreement and scratched his stubbly cheek against her skin. Aisling tensed and scrunched up her shoulders, cursing at him under her breath. She hated it when he did that and he knew it. He just loved to get a rise out of her, it was too easy. He found her to be so cute when she was moody. He liked to play with fire. 

Fed up, Aisling pushed one his arms up and retched herself from his hold, “That is it!” she yelled, hastily covering herself up with a fir. She pulled it in tight around her body and threatened, “If your hands so much as come near me again before morning, I WILL bite you. Goodnight. ”  

Ivar laid back on the bed for a moment and worked on not letting a single decibel of the laugh that he was holding in rise to the surface before he inched closer and cautiously draped an arm over her hip. Lifting his free hand, he tangled his fingers in her hair and felt her shoulders tense. He thought for a moment maybe he should draw his hand back, for fear of her making good on her threat, but instead he was brave and started massaging his fingers into her scalp. She loved it when he did that, it always put her to sleep and his quiet apology soon had her drifting off. When he was sure she was sleeping, he did as he had been doing nearly every night. He placed his hand on her stomach and talked to his child about many things. Mostly warnings and wishes, until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.Then he would fall asleep just as he did nearly every night, with his hands on her breasts and blue balls. It was a wonder he awoke each morning with all of his fingers. 

scarre@rachiieee@nothingbuthappydays@badbitsh13@persephone-is-here-omg @sebastian-stans-thighs@siren-kitten-his@imaginesparadise@tiyetiye@theheathenqueendickubus@brightlycoloredteacups@dangerousvikings @bethy-sue@lunarbear93 @ceridwenofwales

Always

This is a one shot/ vignette for my This Ends Tonight story.

I can’t write this as a complete and linear story. I have been writing a lot of pieces for this in the form of vignettes or snapshots. Every one takes place with Ivar and his wife in bed at the end of a given day, recounting something that happened between them on whichever given day, It is all completely out of order but it is just what feels best for this story.

Warnings: language 

 Let me tell you a story about a story that I got more than halfway written and then lost and then rewrote then lost again all in the same day because of this stupid tablet and then obsessed over for like 12 hours. I could not find the end so I shall just end it for my own sanity. I don’t know why this was so hard. I must purge it. 

Aisling sat perched at the end of the make shift bed. Eyes heavy with lust, she watched as her husband stripped off his gore soaked armor. Though wounded and covered in a mixture of dirt, sweat, and the blood of his enemies, she couldn’t help but think that he had never looked so beautiful.

Ivar winced as he pulled the blood stained tunic up and over his head. The sparse candlelight reflected off the canvas walls of the tent, casting a warm glow over his bruised skin. Admiring the rippling of muscle in his chest and arms, she smiled and hummed a sound of approval. Smirking, he lifting his head from the wash basin and caught his wife’s hungry appraisal.

“You’re staring again, wife"

“Aye, but I cannot help it.” she mewled in response. Reclining back on her elbows, she bit her lip and unabashedly let her eyes roam up and down his body.

Studying her face and noticing how glassy her eyes were, Ivar cocked a brow in question.“Are you drunk, woman?”

“Hmmm…Maybe a little.” she giggled.

Ivar tutted and gave his wife a look of mock disapproval before balling up his discarded tunic and playfully flinging it at her. He had aimed for her face, but his aim was too high. Despite being thoroughly buzzed from the mead, Aisling’s arm shot up and caught it effortlessly. Pressing it to her nose, she inhaled deeply and clutched the blood stained clothing to her chest as if it were a precious gift, smiling like a fool.“Seeing you out there on the battlefield today. I wanted to touch myself right there on that hill in front of the Gods and everybody. I am sure that those Saxons would have enjoyed having such a site be their last before being sent to meet their God. Don’t you think so?”

Ivar rolled his eyes, “You’re ridiculous, wife, and you’re also a terrible liar, you know that?

“And you are beautiful, husband. You looked like a God out there today. I would have let you take me right there in the mud like an animal, surrounded by all those dying men. Why don’t you forget about washing and just come over here and fuck me already?”

Ivar shook his head and gave his wife a stern look. Dipping a cloth into the scented water and using the surface reflection, he thoughtfully gazed into the bowl and scrubbed at the blood smeared on his face and neck.  The flickering light and shadows being cast in the tent were not enough to mask the blush that had arisen in his cheeks. Rolling onto her stomach, Aisling whimpered and rolled her hips into the mattress suggestively.

“Stop that.” 

“But I need you and I need you right now, husband.” 

“Odin, just how much did you have to drink today woman?” he scoffed.

Narrowing her eyes, she rolled the garment up and sent it sailing across the tent. Her aim was as good as her reflexes, and it landed with a splash right in the steaming bowl on her husband’s lap.The water sloshed over the sides, soaking into the fabric of his breeches and spilling onto the dirt floor. The burning sensation caused him to clench his teeth and hiss in pain. Pushing his tongue into his cheek, he just stared at the mess in front of himself, shaking his head and laughing dryly. He felt his blood beginning to rise and cut his eyes at his wife, but upon seeing her face, his irritation quickly melted away.

She sat with her knees to her chest, both hands clapped over her mouth. The dying light in the tent also doing nothing to cover the flush now arisen in her cheeks as she tried to muffle her giddy laughter.


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

His dear sweet wife. Whenever Ivar was having a bad day or was in one of his moods, she so often was able to bring a smile to his lips. On the days when the stress and pain tried to get the better of him, she would refuse to let him sit around drinking and brooding. Doing whatever she could to lighten his mood and coax the laughter from him. It was one of the many reasons he had allowed her to accompany him on this journey. Aside from the fact that he couldn’t bare another long summer without her, she was his anchor. When the demons he harbored inside threatened to consume him and he felt himself growing too weak to resist them anymore, the strong hold she held on his heart would keep them at bay. The love she had for him kept him just on the right side of sanity.

His queen would like to have people believe that she was every bit as cruel as he, that she hated the Christians, that she was viking. But he knew her better than that. She was a Dane, sure, but his wife was no viking. She was inherently good and kind. She was everything he was not and he didn’t mind her light balancing out his darkness. He loved her for it and it was why their marriage worked. He knew she had had her fill of war and death long before they came together. He saw it in her eyes when he had asked her to come, she had wanted to say no but agreed anyways. She knew that he needed her and hadn’t wanted to disappoint him. He saw right through the strong front she presented. His wife found no beauty or enjoyment in watching people get slaughtered. All that morning leading up to the battle, she had sat on a log with a far away look in her eye. If he hadn’t been otherwise preoccupied, he might have noticed the cup never leaving her hands.

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

Looking at her husband’s perturbed face, Aisling couldn’t help it and fell over onto her side, erupting in laughter.

Ivar made sure to keep his face hard set as he set the bowl aside and slid from the wooden stool to the wet ground. Forgoing his crutches, he slowly crawled towards the bed, his eyes locked on her like a magnet. When he finally reached the bed and grabbed a hold of the mattress to pull himself up, she laughed and moved to roll away, but his hand shot out and took hold of her ankle. Aisling squealed and he tightened his grip, smiling up at her wickedly. “You think that was funny? Hmm?“

“Yes, a little.” She giggled, kicking and pulling her leg, trying to free herself from his hold.She was stronger than she looked and wrestling with her, he felt himself tiring fast. His body was weak and his muscles were sore from battle. Having become so dependent on his crutches, he wasn’t entirely sure he could even pull himself onto the bed from this position. “Woman, stop kicking and help me up or so help me I will drag your ass right down here to the ground with me.”

“Ooh, don’t threaten me with a good time.” Moving closer, she took his face in her hands and pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before pulling back and giggling like an idiot, kicking and resuming her struggle with a renewed energy.

Giving up, he released her ankle and sighed, pressing his forehead against the mattress.“Aisling, please.”

“Oh, begging becomes you quite nicely, husband.“ she teased, leaning forward and stroking her fingers through his hair. Having taken the plaits out, it was tangled and matted with dried blood and dirt. She picked a clump of something that she hoped was mud but could possibly be tissue out of his hair and flicked it aside, curling her lip in disgust.“You know what, on second thought maybe you should finish washing.”

“Aisling.” he warned.

“Ivar.” she echoed.

“You’re a terrible wife.”

“I am not. I am a wonderful wife and you love me.” She smiled and continued raking her fingers through his hair. Ivar closed his eyes and leaned into her caress. She brushed his hair back behind his ears and tracing over the scar on this cheek with her fingertip.“I was so scared today, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.“Oh, I’m sure you would mourn for the requisite amount of time before taking Hvitserk as your bed slave.” he smirked, his eyes bright with amusement.“Hmm, I think I quite like that idea.” she beamed, “I mean, who else would do a better job at consoling me than our dear Hvitserk?” 

”That isn’t funny, wife.” 

“You don’t think so?” 

“Not at all.” 

“Why wait for tragedy to strike, didn’t Ubbe once share a wife wife with dear Hvitserk?”

“Can you stop calling him ‘dear Hvitserk’?”

“Why are you jealous?”

“Always.”




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