living with your parents is a constant cycle of i love you more than i could ever comprehend and i want to get out before i lose my fucking mind

Rafe Cameron with a buzzcut, you are in my wildest dreams

the chockhold this man have on me…

Fallout of the Century 🌑💔

My head came up from under the surface, breaking the water around me. I let out a gasp as I rubbed the water from my face. There was a banging at the bathroom door before it swung open with force. He swung the curtain open, exposing my naked body. He had seen me this way before, so the sight didn’t even make him bat an eyelash. 

“Seriously peanut? I was out there for like three minutes calling you.” His tone was harsh and firm, this was not the first time this had happened. Ever since the break up I just wasn’t the same anymore, and the only one who saw the bad was Harrison. 

“Sorry,” I muttered , slipping back below the surface of the water. Harrison’s hands reached in and grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up.

“We are not doing this again peanut,” he groaned as he pulled me to my feet, soaking himself in the process. 

“Harrison, I’m fine,” I tried to convince him, but he knew otherwise. 

“I know tonight will be hard, and I know you’ll want to bail, and I know that you will hate it, but I’ll be right here, and so will Tuwaine. We have to try and put this behind us,” He pulled the towel around my shoulders and helped me out of the tub. He walked me to my bedroom and stood in the doorway until I had a pair of leggings and a hoodie on. “You sure you want to wear that one?” he asked. I looked down, noticing I had grabbed Harry’s pink hoodie, because I was in such a haze. I felt tears rush to my eyes as I pulled it off and grabbed one of my own. We walked down to the living room and sat on the armchairs, waiting. My hair was still wet, and Harrison’s shirt was damp from helping me out of the bath, but I was sure no one would notice. Or care. 

First to arrive was Tuwaine, he walked over giving me a hug and kissing my forehead before finding his usual spot on the couch. Next it was Sam, then Tom, and then finally. Harry. 

He didn’t look good, not like himself, he looked sad and hollow, but i tried to ignore it. Six months ago there would have been one more person with us, but six months ago seemed like a lifetime away.

Keep reading

Hurts so Good (CHEATING!TOM) No smut! :(

You knew what he was doing, who he was with. You wasn’t stupid when he thought you were sleeping coming in late at night, that smell of another woman’s perfume slapping you across the face which left an invisible scar - every time he lied on the phone when he claimed to be out with friends but you could hear the other bitch’s laughter and insults as she called you clueless dummy for thinking your man was faithful. You’ve been Tom’s sun and moon for years, before and during fame; you thought the money nor thirsty hoes would get in-between but you never felt more ashamed as you stayed with him. You had nowhere to run and you practically gave up everything to stay with him, after he said he’d take care of you and you didn’t have to waste a dime you accepted his words as he treated you like a queen. The fights got more intense and the sex got less satisfying, he went out more than usual and forbid you to touch his phone. He’d get more defensive and upset when you accused him of cheating and you believed every lie he told because you loved him so much.

Tonight was no other, there was no point in messaging him about anything considering the only place he was is in another girl’s bed. You laid in the tub, letting the tears sting your cheeks; you were empty inside and fully heartbroken. You didn’t care anymore and at some point it hurt to even see yourself in the mirror, wondering what was so wrong with you that he’d want to disrespectful your relationship. You wasn’t expecting to hear the front door open and the groans that came from the drunken Tom as you rolled your eyes and quickly flushed the water down the drain and exited the bathroom; throwing on a tank top and cotton panties. The sounds of your boyfriend’s footsteps got closer to your shared bedroom as he opened the door. His shirt was nearly ripped apart and his neck was covered in hickeys that wasn’t made by you, you scoffed at his current state and didn’t dare speak to him. “Y/N? Come on. I want to f-fuck you!” He hiccupped which made your stomach turn in disgust. “Go fuck that other bitch.” You snapped, not even looking at him as he chuckled. “Don’t be like that, I dumped her right after I left the bar - I couldn’t even touch her…although she had amazing tits.” The sound of him laughing at his own words made your heart sunk further and all the frustration and betrayal built inside made you get up from the bed and charge at him, immediately slapping the cursed smirk from his face. Tom fell against the door before glaring at you - giving another smirk as he in quick movements picked you up and throw you on the large bed, getting between your legs while you used them to kick and your arms to punch at his chest.

He hissed at the pain; trying to restrain your swinging arms but you couldn’t control yourself.

“Get off of me, Tom!” You screamed - even more tears staining your redden face. Tom noticed the hurt in your eyes as he scrambled off your body; the alcohol was long gone from his system. You sat up and continued to cry, “Y/N…baby-” He began but you growled at him for calling you that nickname, you weren’t his baby anymore, right when he started talking to the girl he’s been cheating on you with.

“I’m sorry! Shit, I’ll just leave you alone.”

You gazed at him. “Why did you cheat? How could you leave me like I was nothing?!” You stood up again, and Tom backed away - not looking forward to argue nor fight. “The fact you walk into this house and pretend like I don’t see or smell everything that whore marked on you! The fact she could never love you the way I do…how you weren’t even thinking about me when you had your hands on her.”

Tom ran a hand through his brunet hair, “I’m done with her. When I pictured you and saw how broken you must’ve been I couldn’t treat you like that! I mean bloody hell, you could’ve fucked any guy you wanted when you saw me with her.”

“I didn’t,” You mumbled.

“So why didn’t you?!” He shouted, “Because I fucking love you Tom.”

[][][][][][]

Aight ya’ll - this is supposed to have a part two but I didn’t feel like writing it because it’s gonna be long, right after I post this I’ll be posting another story…with smut dis time.

Au revoir!

i want to forget | tom holland (series masterlist)

pairing/AU: university AU - modern prince!tom holland x female!reader

summary: getting paired up with crown prince thomas for a whole semester long history project, was not how you’d imagined your last year of university to go. especially as an opposer of the monarchy.

warnings: extended warnings will be given for each chapter, the chapters marked with * will contain smut. that means that those chapters are +18 and not suitable for minors!!!

a/n: never thought i would write a royal au in my life, but the idea wouldn’t leave my brain, so here it is i guess. there’s probably some inaccuracies when it comes to the whole royal thing, but whatever 🤷🏼‍♀️ i will be posting once a week on thursdays. all chapters are already finished. feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! i hope you’ll enjoy this little series! happy reading <3 (i’m still not a writer!)

playlist: god save the queen by sex pistols / riches and wonders by the mountain goats / free ride by nick drake / summer girl by haim / SGL by now, now / once more to see you by mitski / too late by the paper kites / lover, you should’ve come over by jeff buckley / first thing to go by hayley williams / no hard feelings by wolf alice

one

two

three

four*

five*

six*

epilogue

𝒕𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒑 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

hello! here you will find all of my tsitp work!

JEREMIAH FISHER ✓

you're so wrong

best friends sister

© archer-writes 2022

WHERE ARE ALL THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY FICS AT????

somebody else; steve harrington

*A new series by kissholland

PAIRING: older!dark!mcu!peter x stark!reader

WARNINGS: (18+ mature themes & content, minors dni). alcohol, lots of smut (esp in 1st chapter), dark!peter, older! peter, dom!peter, mcu spoilers (esp NWH), lots of kinks, name calling, degration, general male dominance (i.e. throat grabbing), leg guy peter, boob guy peter, just really peter being boyish and staring way too much.

K's Note: its stark!reader, and mcu!peter, but i'm writing this as more similar to andrew/tobey's storylines, so although stark & the MCU are involved, it won't be in a very Marvel fashion. This is meant to be darker, the warnings have been listed, and more warnings will be added in accordance to chapters, so if any of it makes you uncomfortable, please do not read or interact, respectfully. Also, I'll tweak this when I have more time to edit, but taglist/spotify playlist is coming soon. Thank you, much love, and I hope everyone enjoys this twisted take on Tom's Spider-man <3 // I do not own Marvel or any of it's characters.

every 6 months, bridges burn we never learn

Nik Recommends—Peter Parker Edition

*= smut ★= angst ♡= fluff

Tom Holland Imagines

 #01 “Don’t throw things at me” (Peter Parker)

#02 “Is that a challenge?”

#03 “Give me a kiss, you dummy?”

#04 My hero (Peter Parker)

#05 “You’re being an asshole”

#06 “Teach me”

#07 Q&A [First Edition]

#08 Story of us (Series)

#09 Apologies and Sad faced emojis

#10 Comic con-ning

#11 World Cup

#12 Practice

#13 Vids and Tricks

#14 You (Series)

Happy New Year | Bucky Barnes

pairings: bf!Bucky Barnes x female reader

summary: you spend your first New Years with your boyfriend, bucky <3

warnings: 18+; fluff!!! a few cuss words, alludes to adult time;))))

Valor | 1 | ♕

Long live the Queen of Cordovia, but who is it that wears the crown?

Prologue –

AT QUEEN AGNES CASTLE, named after your grandmother, you were stored away in your chambers. Guarded by several soldiers for the first time in all your years of living, you were okay with being left to your own devices. Servants regularly came to bathe and feed you, but the usually flamboyant Princess was quiet beyond that.

“Your grace, I just want to express my deepest sorrow,” One of the servants said, seeing the sadness on your face. Looking at her, you were struggling to put on a strong front as your Mother had once instructed. Realizing how she addressed you, the reality of the situation hit you harder than you were prepared for.

“I am Queen,” You said, climbing off your bed as you walked over toward your crown, it now felt much smaller. Placing it on your head, looking into the mirror, you were only a princess for a moment, and now you were Queen. Standing up straighter as you lifted your chin, this was everything your Mother had been trying to prepare you for, “I need to see Lady Katherine.”

“My Queen, she is swamped and has asked for you to remain here,” Taking a deep breath as you stared at the servant who spoke, she cowered under your stare. Recalling her name to be Sabine, you offered her a small smile.

“Sabine, I am your Queen. I am not asking any of you for Lady Katherine. I want to see her now,” You ordered trying your best to still be kind, but this would only be the beginning of needing respect.

“Of course your grace, my apologies,” Sabine stammered as she bowed before you, but you shook your head.

“No apology needed,” You said, watching as the servants hurried to get you where you wanted to be. Dressing you in proper attire, it was late, but you were wide awake. Holding your head high, you were aware you now had responsibilities bigger than you. Entering the throne room, all conversation halted as all eyes landed on you. The room consisted of several of the high born families.

“Princess (Y/n) with all due respect—” Nobleman William spoke, raising your hand, stopping him mid-sentence you reclasped your hands in front of you as your Mother had taught you. The room consisted of three of the six noblemen, their wives, Sir Edward, Lady Katherine, Lady Amelia, and Gertrude, the servants’ head.

“Queen (Y/n),” You corrected, causing ripples of mutters through the room with your bold claim.

“You have yet to Coronated,” Nobleman George said, looking over his wife Beatrice looked uncomfortable with the exchange.

“My Aunt and Uncle have assassinated my mother during coronation in attempts to Usurp me. The fact you are all here only furthers my assertion that I have been declared the next Queen. You are all here investing in your future because now I am your only hope of returning to your high stature lives. I am Queen; it is my right to know what happens next,” You demanded, resembling not just your mother but also your grandmother. Silence falling over the room was not the men or even your primary caretakers who spoke first. Nobleman, James’s wife, Elena, smiled before she said.

“Our young Queen is right. Had we wanted to continue comfortably, we would have stayed, but our rightful Queen is here. We need a plan to keep her safe the least we can do is allow our Queen to be present for whatever comes next,” Lady Elena explained, scanning the room, you were surprised to see a small semblance of a smile on Lady Amelia’s face as she watched you.

“I have been training our young Queen in etiquette and basic diplomacy since she could walk. She is still but a girl,” Lady Amelia pointed out, and you expected nothing more from her.

“She is just a girl but still our Queen nonetheless,” Lady Katherine chimed in, and the room was coming to a standstill. You were insistent on being present for the conversation despite outside opinions.

“But she is still just a girl. Queen or not,” Lady Beatrice pointed out, but it was almost as if you could not hear her. Quite mousey, she clung to her husbands’ side as she avoided all eye contact, “I mean not to offend our Queen. I am just rather scared about what comes next.”

“It is simple what is to come. Late King John and Queen Agnes prepared for this all of Ruth’s and (Y/n)’s lives. This safe palace holds enough gold for two lifetimes, several of Queen (Y/n)’s dresses, and possessions. We must all relocate my wife, and I own lands in Spain. Lord George and Lady Beatrice, please feel free to join my family. Lord James and Lady Elena take your daughter to your lands in France. Queen (Y/n), her governesses Katherine and Amelia, her knights Edward and Louis must go to the one place (Y/n) will certainly be safe,” William explained, seemingly sparking up the former conversation you had missed. Lady Amelia scoffed at the assertion, but you were lost as to where you would be safe.

“As a representative of workers of the royal family, I cannot speak for all, but I know several of us would be honored to accompany our girl Queen wherever she goes,” Gertrude said, offering a closed-eyed smile the old woman’s kindness warmed your heart.

“You cannot truly expect us to take her there. She is already in jeopardy of her legitimacy; this would not help,” Lady Amelia spat, and you watched as Lord William glared at the older women.

“I am aware that I am not well versed in diplomacy, but as a mother, with a husband who is an amazing father, I must ask. Who would protect our Queen better than her own father?” Lady Eloise asked, and Lord William beamed with pride as the room became quiet. Looking at Eloise, you were shocked by the assertions. No one ever spoke of your father, and you never dared to ask your mother.

“You would all have to leave immediately. I am certain Arthur and Joan will set their sights on this castle soon. The longer we dawdle, the closer we bring our Queen’s reign to an end,” Sir Edward said, walking over to you despite the strong face you wore, he could see you were overwhelmed, “Fret not my young Queen. I am so proud of you and Louis today. You will both travel to your father’s lands.”

“Will you not be joining us?” You asked, looking down at the older man he would now be all alone. His wife had passed during childbirth, and your grandfather was his best and only friend. Beyond you and Louis, he had no one.

“Someone must stay here to remind everyone the true Queen shall return. I promise you will return home,” Sir Edward assured, kissing your forehead; you were lost as they spoke of this plan’s minuscule parts. Dismissing the meeting, everyone was rushing around, leaving you and Louis to wait.

“What is happening, Princess?” Ignoring the title, your mind was buzzing with all the ideas in your head of what your father looks like.

“I do wish to tell you, Sir Louis, but your father will in due time,” You said as your leg bounced anxiously from where you sat; Louis frowned. You could see him staring at you, but you still stared off at the water.

“Well, I promise all will be well,” Louis said, trying to reassure you as he could see just how nervous you indeed were—thinking of your mother, a frown cast over you as the servants packed many of your things. Being escorted to the docks as the ships were loaded separately, you smiled as Lord William’s children came into view.

“Queen (Y/n),” They said in unison, and as Adela curtsied, her older brothers bowed. All around your age, they were all a year apart. Adela ten, Alfred eleven, Alexander twelve, and Andrew thirteen.

“Campbell siblings,” You greeted kindly, and each of their responses varied. Not caring much for Adela, she never enjoyed playing with you as you would play with the ordinary children, her fiery red hair mirrored her mothers as she had Lord Willam’s dark eyes. Alfred being the mouthy one out of the bunch he took after his father a lot. Resembling his mother, Alexander shared her light blue eyes and had a knack for trouble. Lastly, Andrew being the reserved one out of his siblings, did not speak much. All worry and reservation, the oldest Campbell child showed no interest in you whatsoever. Even now, as you were all running from your homes, it was clear he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Queen (Y/n),” Victoria spoke as she curtsied, and you smiled at the blonde-haired girl. Looking more like her father than her mother, Victoria Beverly was the most well-behaved out of all the high born children.

Before you could greet her back, Lady Amelia spoke as she kept her eyes toward the castle in the distance, “Children, we must all retire to our respective boats. We have a long journey ahead of us all.”

Watching all the high-born children scatter off to their parents, it was just you and Louis again. Awaiting Sir Edward when he came into view, it was clear he had yet to tell Louis what was happening.

“May I?” Sir Edward asked, nodding your head, giving them some space; you left the two alone but watched them from a distance. Trying to keep himself together as he received the news, you could see Louis was crumbling at the information. Hugging his father, the two held each other for a long while. Approaching the two, your eyes welled with tears as it was all becoming so real.

“I shall miss you, Sir Edward,” You said with your hands clasped in front of you as you had been taught you were falling apart.

“And I, you, my Queen,” Sir Edward said, crouched down in front of the two of you. Breaking customs, you wrapped your small arms around him as you squeezed him tight.

“I will bring our people home,” You promised, hugging you back, Edward pulled Louis into the hug as well.

“Not at the cost of who you are. Remember, we can all choose to be better,” Edward whispered into the embraced. Tears were falling down your cheeks; it was all finally hitting you. After some time, you had no other choice but to release your dear family friend from your hold.

“Louis, you are no longer a boy but a man. A man with the most important job more important than my own. You are the protector of Cordovia’s future. Your life is dedicated to hers,” Sir Edward called out to his son as the boats floated from the docks. While the Noblemen had about two ships, each fleet consisted of four ships alone with just your people. You were standing at the end of the vessel; you watched your home become further away from your reach before leaving your view altogether.

“Sir Edward, please do not make this any harder,” Your Aunt Joan said, sitting upon your mother’s throne. In your seat sat your cousin Alice and on the King’s throne sat your Uncle Arthur II.

“I do not wish to digress. My loyalty lies with the Cordovian throne, no matter who sits upon it,” Edward said, lying through his teeth, he remained calm despite the looming threat of his life.

“And yet your son disappears with our runaway princess,” Arthur II said, watching your grandfather’s most loyal subject closely.

“I implore you to consider my perspective. You killed my Queen during the princess’s preliminary coronation—the same princess who just knighted my son. I could not risk his life by allowing him to stay here. What happens to me does not matter, but my son is everything to me,” Edward explained, keeping his head held high; Arthur looked at his wife, then his daughter. Lacking a son, Arthur could only imagine the desperate need to keep the Tudor’s last name.

“I say we burn him and the root out the rest of the subjects who are loyal to our dear niece,” Joan’s voice boomed through the grand hall. What was once a room of great joy and unity was now desolate. As if the room was desperate to hear your giggles or the soft pattering of your feet as you failed to sneak around.

“The Kingdom will descend into chaos. It is not like England here. Everyone is important, and when you take that reality away, they will rebel,” Edward said, glaring at him. Joan was making clear she did not like the older man.

“Then I guess you will live today, Sir Edward. As the Kings’ advisor with public relations, but I get even an inkling of your betrayal, you will pay with your head,” Arthur said, standing up; he looked down at Edward.

“Noted. I will help you with domestic troubles, but I will not help you with Princess (Y/n). That is your fight alone.”

“Is cousin (Y/n) alright?” Alice asked, looking up at her mother, who grimaced at the sound of your name. Your cousin was not aware of what had transpired earlier that put her parents on the throne, but she did know that she was now in line to be Queen.

“Fine, we will tolerate your insubordination, but all of her subjects will burn when my dear niece is found. Including your dear son,” Joan spat, and Arthur looked at his wife, revealing to Edward a divide between them.

“Joan,” Arthur patronized, but the dark-haired women stared forward at Edward with her piercing green eyes.

Your arms wrapped around your stomach; you always hated traveling by boat. Traveling would be exciting for most kids, but you dreaded every trip to the Vatican and every trip to France. Comfortingly rubbing circles on your back as you released your lunch’s contents off the ship’s side, Lady Katherine spoke to you softly.

“It is alright, your grace,” Katherine said as you closed your eyes, leaning your head onto the edge of the ship. Taking a deep breath, the smell of saltwater and fish worsened your gagging. Not far off, Louis watched you warily.

“Shall I fetch her more clean water?” Louis asked, wanting to do anything to alleviate your suffering. A big part of his training was adjusting to traveling in events you would have to meet with other nations or, in this case, eventually go to war.

“She will not keep it down. I think your companionship while I talk with the healers will suffice,” Katherine said, and as Louis took her place, you began heaving over the side of the boat again.

“Don’t worry, after a few minutes; it is easier, I promise,” Louis reassured in your ear as he rubbed your back. Looking up, your main servant Aurora stood nearby with furs, thanking her. Louis wrapped them around you.

“I can only imagine what defamatory gossip would spread about me—girl Queen who can’t handle a simple boat ride. I am weak,” You cried, turning your head toward Louis as you leaned onto the boat’s side.

“Sickly from travels, and yet you worry about your reputation. You truly are mad, aren’t you?” Louis asked, chuckling at his words; you tried rolling your eyes, but a lingering headache snuck up on to you.

“Is that any way to speak to your Queen?” You asked, rubbing your temple as you squeezed your eyes shut. Brushing a stray hair from your face, Louis laughed as though you had told a joke.

“Probably not,” Louis said, cutting the conversation short Lady Amelia came over urgently, rushing you to the quarters below the deck to rest. At first, it was horrible as the smell was truly putrid. Despite how many scents the servants wafted through the room, the smell of saltwater and fish was strong.

“May Louis join me down here. Just to keep me company until I am asleep?” You asked, but Lady Amelia shook her head as she trifled through your things.

“You are Queen. It would be highly inappropriate. The two of you need to be aware you are no longer friends. He is your subject, and you must act as such, or you will make a spectacle of yourself. As your guard, he is on his first assignment with some of your soldiers,” Lady Amelia explained, finding your strawberry scented doll she said nothing as your face lit up. Your grandmother had made it, taking a deep inhale as you pressed your nose against the doll; there were still hints of strawberry.

“I just want things to go back to normal,” You muttered as you buried your face into your doll in attempts to down out the awful smell that encased you.

Ignoring his muscles’ aching as the armor weighed down on his body heavily, Louis continuously looked between your unmoving boat and the port named Kattegat. Being sent to announce your purpose and arrival, there was no guarantee of how he and the other men would be greeted. Being deemed English foreigners, the pagans did not take too kindly to your people.

“They will mock you as you are just a boy but stay serious and show no sign of weakness. When the famous Ragnar hears what you have to say, he’ll take you seriously,” Sir Archibald said, standing at Louis’s side. The weight of needing to be like his father was far more massive than any of the metal armor they could have placed onto him. Turning to the men, he could only recall what his father had said as they left the port.

“We are all here for a reason with the most important job. More important than all of our friends and our family. We protect Cordovia’s future, our future. We must convince the people Kattegat we come not as a threat but with their princess, seeking asylum and protection. Not for ourselves for our Queen!” Louis yelled, laying down his sword; it became quiet as the others looked around at each other. Sir Archibald was the first to follow suit as unsheathing his sword; he dropped it to the floor before turning to Louis. Kneeling, he lowered his head, Louis did not show it visibly, but he was amazed. Sir Archibald, being a high ranking night within your soldiers.  Close to Louis’s father’s ranking is the depth of Archibald’s achievements, and here he was following a twelve-year-old boy. Watching as several others fell in line, it was incredible as they got even closer to the port.

Looking out, he could see several men and women waiting for them. Weapons in hand as they presumed the ships to be a bold attack. Standing strong with his hands clasped behind his back, Louis put on a strong face bracing himself for what was to come next. Being greeted with several weapons pointed at his face, he could hear his fathers’ words in his head.

“(Y/n) and her family has a complicated history. One day you may find yourself facing foreigners, Usurpers, and people who have no quarrel with you, but they will want your friend’s head. In the face of adversity, you must keep your composure.”

Yelling in a foreign dialect, Louis said nothing as he could not understand the first man standing before him. In a way, he resembled you, not with any particular feature, but the look of anger was familiar. Just like you, he furrowed his eyebrows and subtly readjusted his shoulders as he glared. Looking down, Louis could not fight the look of shock as another one of them was dragging himself, his legs braced and bound.

“English-speaking Christian,” He said, spitting by Louis’s feet, but Louis did not react as he stared into the fierce blue eyes of the young man before him.

“I have no direct faith. I have come ahead the rest of my people. Of course, I bring a few men in case things are to go awry, but we come to speak to King Ragnar,” Louis spoke authoritatively, sending mutters through the crowd.

“They stand behind a child?”

“Their leader of warriors is a boy?

"I am Bjorn Ironside. The oldest son of King Ragnar. These are my brothers,” Bjorn spoke, towering over Louis; he went on to introduce all four of his brothers, “Our father is currently predisposed, so he sent us to handle whatever this may be. Speak, boy.”

“Than this is a family matter. All I ask of you is to allow our Queen safe passage to this port. From there, we have information for all of you, but it must be all of your family, not just you and your brothers. I implore you to heed my warnings this is something you will all want to know,” Louis said with his hands clasped behind his back; his eyes held no fear as he laid out his demands. Ivar glared at the boy as he spoke in his dialect to his elder brother. Louis watched the five seemingly argue about what to do next before Bjorn stormed off, and Ubbe stepped forward.

“Bring your Queen but know this; if you or your people try anything, you will all pay in blood. Even your Queen,” Ubbe said, giving him a curt nod; they watched as Louis signaled the others. Switching out the red sheet to white, the others watched as several boats began moving toward the port in the distance. Waiting for you to arrive, Louis thought it to be best that he and a few others walked over to the port you could be coming out of the boat onto. Taking up posts, the people of Kattegat watched them skeptically. It was not long before you docked, but the stares made it feel like an eternity for Louis. Your pager was the first to step off the boat as everyone watched, waiting to see the Queen that everyone had been speaking of.

“Presenting Queen (Y/n) of Cordovia,” He spoked, stepping aside as you were brought up from your quarters. Tiara on your head, you kept your head high despite the shocked faces. All of Ragnar’s sons stood before you.

“She’s just a little girl,” Ivar spoke in their language, and you narrowed your eyes as Pagan dialect was one of many for you.

“And yet I am Queen, and you’re just a boy,” You spoke in the Old Norse fluently without hesitation or fault. They all looked at you, amazed by your intellect. One of them chuckled at your words; looking at you, the two of you smiled.

“I am Bjorn—” He started, and you could not help but giggle, losing your composure, you knew Lady Amelia would patronize you for this later, but you did not care, “I’m sorry did I miss the joke?”

“Bjorn like a bear. You a very tall and hairy like one too,” You spoke without thinking as you giggled, but Bjorn only smiled. Stepping in front of you, Lady Amelia thumped your head as she sidestepped you.

“My apologies, our young Queen has just recently ascended to her throne. I can see it in your face; you are the sons of Ragnar. We must speak to all of you. It is urgent,” Lady Amelia said, revealing she knew your father personally; a realization dawned upon you, these were your brothers. Looking at them, there was no resemblance between you and them, and yet they looked like your father.

“We’ve sent word. With great urgency, Father wants to grant you all audience as well, but the amount of people you may bring is limited. We will personally escort you to the great hall,” Bjorn said, looking up at him; you were mesmerized; he was your big brother. Walking over, taking his hand, he looked down at you curiously. Looking up at him for a second, it was as if he just knew. It was simple who would be joining you all, both your ladies, Louis, and a small group of your warriors.

Still holding Bjorn’s hand, you tried your best to keep your head high beneath the stares of the pagan people. Keeping your eyes forward as you entered the great hall, it was much different than you imagined. It was actually just a throne room, much smaller than your own and all wood. The torches lit the room beautifully; it was still vast in size and beauty despite being smaller. Letting go of your hand, Bjorn joined his brothers, joining his stepmother and father near the throne. Several of the people of Kattegat filled the room surrounding you and your people. Looking at Louis as you grew nervous, he winked at you before staring forward with a serious expression. Feeling a small wave of reassurance, it was not enough as you looked at Ragnar, you were facing your father. As you looked at him, he looked at Lady Amelia and Lady Katherine, mead in hand, he held grin upon his face.

“Katherine, you have grown,” Ragnar spoke, looking at your lady-in-waiting; she was only a few years older than you. Katherine only curtsied as she took you, and Ragnar looked over at your governess, “Amelia.”

“I have no time for your games Ragnar,” Lady Amelia said, stepping in front of you, blocking you from his view. Peeking around her as your eyes met his own, his grin fell. Narrowing his eyes, you flinched as Lady Amelia’s hand pushed your face back behind her.

“I hear the Queen of Cordovia wants to speak with me. Where’s Ruth?” Ragnar asked, all the amusement flushed from his tone. A low hum to his voice, he stared at your governess with a threatening stare.

Not cowering to the Heathen King, you were sure Amelia feared no one, not even god, “Ruth is dead. She knew the day would come when her family would come for her throne for (Y/n)’s title. She always said if anything happened to bring her here.”

“Why would my old lover want her here,” Knowing the answer, Ragnar still droned on. Grabbing your hand, Amelia made you stand next to her to be viewed by all.

“Ruth always said there is no one who can protect (Y/n) better than her own father,” Lady Amelia said, causing mutters to engulf the room at the revelation. Looking over, Ivar was the first to speak.

“Liars!” He screamed, glaring at him; you stopped as Amelia nudged you. The rest of your brothers shared confused expressions as they stared at you. Holding your head high, you were uncertain of what reaction you expected, but this was not it.

“Easy, my son,” Looking over, the woman who sat upon the throne next to your father was beautiful. Staring at her as she looked back at you, she offered a small smile, but a sad expression plagued her.

“The girl looks nothing like me, and yet you expect me to believe your words; why?” Ragnar said, realizing what was happening, you looked at your father. Already staring at you, amusement once again played on his lips. He was expecting you to plead your case and beg for his help.

“Because—” Amelia spoke, but Ragnar raised his hand, stopping her as he sipped his mead. Watching him, the longer you waited, more disdain grew in your chest as your confused expression was becoming a glare.

“Ruth is dead, and I can only assume from what I can tell she is of age to be announced the heir to the throne. If I am correct, that makes her the Queen, which is how you referred to her. If she is Queen, then she must be able to speak for herself, can she not?” Ragnar teased, baiting you as your anger was evident. The chuckles through the great hall only added to your humiliation as you stood. Awaiting an outburst as you stepped forward, you clasped your hands in front of you and stood with perfect stature just as you were taught.

“Thank you for your time, King Ragnar, but we must be going,” You said calmly, turning around as you went to walk out, one of his men stopped you. Stepping in front of you as he did not move, you glared up at the burly man. Raising your foot high, you brought it down hard onto his foot. As he bent over from initial shock from the blow, you walked past him. Walking past your soldiers, they cleared a path for you to the doors. Reaching them, you stopped and turned around to face the heathen King, “I do not need you, I never have. Do not test my patience or my rage. I am, in fact, my mothers’ daughter.”

Walking out without another word, you left your people stunned, still a long way from being a true Queen, but you showed proper leadership skills. Muttering a quick apology, Katherine followed you out of the Great Hall, leaving everyone else unsure of the exchange. The great hall was silent as everyone stared at Ragnar, waiting for his reaction. Standing up, a chuckle escaped his lips as his mind appeared to be elsewhere.

“Tonight, we feast. In honor of the Princess of Kattegat! My daughter!” Ragnar yelled, and several cheers of joy followed throughout the room. Louis found the entire ordeal somewhat confusing, but he still kept his composure, “A room will be prepared for (Y/n). Your people can feel free to join us in our feast.”

“Of course, that is just your way, is it not? Vex the girl and then leave the rest of us to deal with the stubbornness you and Ruth given her,” Amelia spat, but despite her feelings, she still gave a proper salutation before exiting the great hall. Louis followed as well as your small arsenal of men.

“Did you know about her?” Aslaug asked, looking at her husband, she masked her pained expression for her sons. Each of them waiting for an explanation, but Ragnar’s pensive expression gave them nothing, “Ragnar—”

“No, I did not know,” Ragnar said, twiddling a bracelet in between his fingers; the blood ruby gem was rare around the world, but not in Cordovia. Easily found within your country, he ran his fingers over it.

“The girl can’t possibly be our sister. This is nonsense,” Ivar insisted, but Ragnar shook his head as he took a slow deep breath. Your face engraved in his mind; you were everything he remembered Ruth to be.

“These came from her land. It was the strange Saxon land I spoke about all that time ago,” Speaking slowly, it appeared that Ragnar was still processing, whether it was your existence or Ruth’s fate, he seemed to be unsure of his feelings.

“Should we just be taking their word fo—” Ubbe began, but as Ragnar took another sharp inhale, it was clear he cared little for discussing this further.

“She’s our sister. Act like you didn’t see something in her at the docks if you want to, but that is our little sister,” Bjorn spoke despite his mind being elsewhere; as the words left his lips, it felt foreign. He could not help but think of Gyda, who she may have been had she lived, but she didn’t. Silence taking over the room the family of seven it was tense, already fractured they knew not of all you would bring the household.

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2 Coming Soon