Ivar "The Boneless" Ragnarsson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ragnarsson) wrote2019-11-04 11:03 pm
ragnarsson) wrote2019-11-04 11:03 pm
Penance Inbox
"This is Ivar."
Video | Voice | Text | Action
"This is Ivar."
Video | Voice | Text | Action
"This is Ivar."
Video | Voice | Text | Action
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"Hmph. Dodger failed to mention that he had been talking with anyone else. Or seeing anyone else. Or fucking anyone else." The spike of anger that comes off of Ivar which transforms him from sweet to psychopathic is almost scary with how quickly it comes over him. At least Francis doesn't have too much to worry about. This isn't directed towards him, no. He's going to be having very long......he's just going to call it a 'talk' for now with his wayward boyfriend. If this talk involves beating Dodger half-senseless and then removing his other ear, than so be it.
Ivar's not a fool. He knows asking Dodger to remain faithful is like asking fire not to burn, but he'd hoped the man would have had a little more common sense to sleep with people and then just seem to hope Ivar would never find out. "You know, that's not really what makes me angry. It's the deception, you see, that pisses me off. As if he thinks I'm a fool to be so easily deceived."
He pulls the knife out from under his pillow, toying around with it in his hands "By the time I am done with him this time, he's going to look like a fish after skinning."
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He catches Ivar's hands, but it's not an aggressive gesture. He doesn't try to take the knife from him, or restrain him, he just lightly holds his hands despite the blade. And he doesn't shy away from his temper, the anger doesn't deflate the blonde.
"It's not like that. I'm-- his roommate," he says. And it doesn't taste like a lie; it carries the weight of words pulled from Dodger's tongue as the blonde shakes his head. Of course, there's still the red collar around his throat, and Fran cares, deeply. And he knows that Dodger cares on some level, that he means the things that he says- but he doesn't realize how much so. He thinks he's at the bottom of Dodger's affections.
"And I don't think you would have touched me if you thought you two were entirely exclusive," he points out, but it's gentle, not accusatory. Leaning into his space a little, trying to take his anger, as much of it as he can at least, fingers stroking soothing touches over his hands. He's usually good at it, but he has a bit more warning than this usually, knows the context better.
But the idea of Ivar hurting Dodger and especially doing it because of him makes his heart twist. And there's a spark of something defensive he shoves down for the moment before it can get away from him. He needs to fix this, to at least dial things down to the low simmer they'd been at before he'd put words to it.
"I won't claim to know how things are between you two... but I don't think he sees you as a fool. He was talking about how capable you are." He looks up at Ivar and his lips curl into a slightly wry sort of smile. "I was just worried I might mess things up."
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Something clicks in his mind when Francis says they're roommates. "Ah, that's why it smelled so familiar whenever I've been in there." The odd word choice was deliberate. Ivar has been in there several times in dog form and he'd smelled something that he hadn't been able to pin down.
He sighs and shifts over, coming closer to Francis. One of his shoulders brushes up against Francis'. "It's not the exclusiveness I'm after. Just an emotional connection where he puts me first. Of course, last time I asked for that, he burnt my fucking face off after I took his ear clean off, so clearly I dunno why I bother trying." He let out a hollow little laugh. "I guess it's too much to ask of someone who has the emotional capacity of a needy five year old child."
He takes his free hand and runs it through his hair. "He's like a bad addiction. If I could just kill him and be done with it, I would have done it a long time ago already. I've been to three universes now and he's been practically the only consistent I've ever known." It was one of the reasons affection had grown between them to begin with.
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Ivar comes closer and Francis leans into him, their shoulders brushing together. And fuck if his words aren't familiar. That sense of not wanting exclusiveness exactly so much as just feeling like you mattered. "You want to be special to him," he murmurs softly. He can't help the way that his mouth curls when Ivar says that Dodger has the emotional capacity of a five year old.
Francis doesn't think it's true, but then... he's never been quite sure if he gets a better side of Dodger than most people, or if he just buys into his nonsense. He's not sure which option is better. Ivar's clearly one of the people that killed Dodger, and once that would have made him want to put an arrow through his skull. But it's impossible to not feel that Dodger probably deserved it, even if he does get defensive of the man.
"You kill him here, and you're just giving him what he wants. I think it bothers me more than him most of the time," he says idly. "But we're not... it's not like that. I think he just likes that I call him Master," he says with a twitch of his lips. Which is maybe not entirely true, because there are moments, pieces- but when Dodger has so many romantic entanglements and so many where he seems to be willing to actually put the words, labels to it, and doesn't with Francis.. of course he thinks that he doesn't really matter as much.
He leans into him, rests his head against his shoulder. "For what it's worth, I think you're special."
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He nods. That's really what he wants, just the idea that someone will put him as number one in their mind. Dodger has always seemed to struggle with that and it's where much of their conflict comes from.
"Perhaps you are right," he says in a begrudging manner. Then Francis mentions he calls him Master. "Funny. That's what he calls me." Ivar smirks a little, running a hand underneath the collar he wears, the tag on it labeled 'Braska'. Usually, the sub is the one wore the collar, but in Ivar's case, it was because he'd first gone undercover as a dog to spy on Dodger. He'd made the collar lovingly for him, so Ivar still wore it out of sentiment.
Ivar leans over and kisses Francis gently on his temple. "You're sweet. And know just what to say." He's helped calm some of Ivar's fury. "I-- haven't had a lot of kindness in my life. It's hard for me to accept it sometimes. But I greatly appreciate what you're trying to do."
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He's trying to say something - to figure out the words, the right thing to say here. But then Ivar says that Dodger calls him Master and it knocks his train of thought entirely off-track. He blinks, shifts a little so that he can look at him, and he-- He doesn't quite know what he thought, now that Ivar brings it up. He can't imagine the Viking calling Dodger Master. So it makes sense, it's just--
He subbed so hard for Dodger it made things complicated.
Francis shivers a little, cause it shifts things a little, in a way the blonde wasn't sure he could have articulated. But it wasn't a bad thing, exactly. He purrs when Ivar kisses his temple, and he smiles at him, a little warmer. "I try my best. I didn't have a lot of kindness either. But I still wanted it. So I try to give what kindness I can to the ones I think are worth it." He reaches out, brushes fingertips against his jaw, a touch that makes that more than implication.