#anyway back to Kasper

[somedaytakethetime]

I don't know if he'll be laughing after his little klumpedumpe but..

.. he was happy before the game 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[snzical]

BRING BACK MY BOYS NOW

[1nf3ct3d-x3]

Nibbles on you (affectionate)

urghhhhh

[thevoiceofdesertbluffs]

i think more people should pay attention to Kasper Rhodes forever and ever

[kasperbunny]

🥺👉👈 I wonder if Cooper could ever love me

[blingblong55]

The Great War -141, Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

with the new mw3, lets do angst, something along the lines of "Somewhere in the haze, got a sense i've been betrayed" coming from us because 141 betrayed us horribly, which ended up in us getting tortured and then we pretennd its fine when it isnt. forget and forgive we lie and when we meet with Makarov, we tell them, 'oops sorry, forgot i was also a enemy at some point, guess its time to betray like real enemies do' and as we set Makarov free, we show that we have been working as his spy ever since they betrayed us. also can this be with a female reader and we also marry makarov behind their backs so thats why we betray so hard? i love u!

A/N: anon knew what they were doing with that ask…anyway, here you go my love…betrayal as a meal <3

--- F!Reader, soldier!reader, enemy!reader, betrayal, mentions of torture and violence

A/N: also, not much of an angst since I don't want to kill Soap in this one...but I hope you like it

[Present day]

File #21712

Name: [Readers Last, First name]

Alias: Grim

Callsign: Bravo 0-5

Gender: F

DOB: [Redacted]

Rank: 2nd Lt.

Affiliations: 

-TF 141 (Former)

-Kasper Team (dissolved)

-Konni Group (Current)

Status: Alive. Threat.

Summary:

Deadly, fast and a killing machine. Soldier was trained as a recon sniper and has been trained by allied forces as an insertion specialist. SAS has recognised this soldier as a necessity for most of its joint operations. Decorated with high awards and recognition by all military forces. TF 141 acquired soldier after a mission in Al Mazrah. Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.

---------------------- 

The file was there, Laswell and all of the men in the team stared at it. What have they done, was all that played in their minds. To betray a soldier that has been wanted by all allied forces, by all teams and now losing you so quickly to a Russian group. To think your hands will be responsible for their demise. One torture room, where you begged as they did vile acts against you. Truth yelled by your gravelly throat, only to have Price ask for more of your blood. "How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. 

[Eight years ago]

There had been suspicion someone within the base was working with KorTac, a double agent. All fake puzzles led to an unsuspecting, then officer cadet, you. Ghost and Soap made sure to tie you nicely to a chair. The same one that watched you bleed the truth as they cut looking for lies. You were always the hunter, never the prey. "Tell us, R/N, why the fuck were you talking to KorTac!" Price made sure to have the young Lieutenant punch you each time you stayed silent. Your blood on the walls of the torture-...interrogation room. "I told you Price, it isn't me!" Your eyes poured the truth they never saw. 

"Fucking answer us!" Soap, more than ever hurt, slapped you. You play tough, but this hurts, the people you trusted with your life are now wanting to end it. An oath you hold close to you, now far away, or so they believed. The patch you wore with pride, is now ripped from your uniform. No longer friendly but an enemy. You knew what this meant. Ghost took his knife out, began to approach your neck with the sharp blade and before he took your life, Gaz walked in. A small-figured soldier is being pushed into the room. "Tell them what you told me!" Garrick barked. "I-it's me! I'm the one who is talking to KorTac," voice filled with fear, rightfully so. Ghost let go of the fisted uniform in his hand, and watched as your body fell forward. Soap, look of regret, held you in his arms. 

On the way to the medic centre, Ghost was by your side as you kept whispering it wasn't you. The scar he made, is forever to be kept. Days of healing, hours of apologies. Nights when you didn't hear it, but the cold lieutenant apologised with a stream of tears on his face. A blade he cared for, neared your death. 

A/N: Makarov's information has been updated for the reboot, so I'm basing myself on that

[Seven years ago]

[Saint Petersburg, Russia]

You visited the country as a civilian and bumped into a man on your way to your hotel. "Sorry, mate," you kept walking and then days later, the same man appeared in the hotel's lobby. Bumped into you and then as an apology for spilling your wine, he offers dinner. 36-year-old Vladimir was still not illustrated, not to any of his future enemies or hunters at least. You learned many things with him that evening, from his young years in the military and how his night had gotten better since meeting you. "It's wonderful, to have such a beauty like you visit such a dull country." He had you blushing and knew how to mess with your young heart. 

"You're just saying that, Vlad," a smile on your lips. It was bizarre how he went from Vladimir to Vlad, a short name that meant too much to a man like him. "Well, it's true, my dear," his smile winning you over. He didn't know your real job and you didn't know his. That night, you made a friend, someone you hold dear. That night, he made a lover, a puppet to his future. 

[Six years ago]

[middle of nowhere]

"Where are you taking me?" a blindfold on you as your boyfriend, Vlad, took you to yet another date. "You'll see my dearest," he whispers against your soft skin. Warm breeze hit your skin. The ocean, as free as you and him yearned to be. "Suprise my love," his thick accent melting your heart. The blindfold off you, you smile and hug him. This day, all truth was told, no arguments, just two lovers understanding each other's lives. "No no, my love, I would never hurt you," a promise he knows to keep. "And you wouldn't betray me, right love?" His hands cupped your delicate face as you nod. "I would never," you whisper as you feel his lips fall on yours. 

From then on, no one knew who he was to you. But to his comrades, friends and family you were the girl who held his heart. The task force all thought you were just like them, stuck to the mission and not to civilian love. Dancing with the devil, making love to him and promising your all. An engagement ring that hangs with your dog tags. Secret love to never be told. 

[Five years ago]

"Who is this?" Soap and Gaz looked at the photograph. "Vladimir Makarov, a Russian nationalist, born during the USSR," Laswell responded. "He's the target," her lips said. A knot at your throat, this can't be, you have to warn him. "Y'alright love?" Ghost's hand on your back. You nod. "Yeah, I'm just thinking," you turn to him. He nods, "Right, well, what do you think we should do?" He encouraged you, the new lieutenant of the team, no longer a cadet officer. It was something he pushed you to, to be the best. Proud smile on him when you ran up to him with the news. "I say we start with intel," you look at the photograph once more. It was your Vlad, no doubt. "Right, sergeants with me, Ghost and Grim stay behind for Laswell's next intel ask," Price nodded and left. 

Days passed and Operation Golf was established. Ghost taught you how to perfect your ghillie suit. He just liked how you tried to make yours better than his, which always turned into, 'which Lt. wore it better'.

By midnight, as Ghost went to sleep, you left base to meet with Vladimir. Price and the two other men in a different country, looking for him. "What is it, my love?" His gloved hands held your face. "They are now gathering intel on you. They believe you are still in Russia," you spoke in Russian. He chuckles, "Shame that I'm here, isn't it," his lips meet yours. Your nose is cold and now warmed by his kiss. "Don't trust no one, not even Ivan," you warn him. "I only trust my beautiful love," he kisses you again. "Now, let me hold my precious darling before she plays pretend." And that night, was the first of many rendezvous's he took for you whilst you play ally to the task force. 

[Four years ago]

You were on an operation with some old teammates from a past squad when Price got a hold of you. "Grim, it's that Captain Price guy!" A teammate calls out. You answer the call. "Prisoner 627 is now in Russia," Price proudly spoke. 627, a number unique to the case the military had opened for Makarov alone. Your wedding ring is hung with the dog tags. "Copy, out." You say over the call. That night, your bedroom was not filled with the call of your dearest lover. It's strange, to play pretend with the family you made as a soldier and to play feign with the man you call home as a wife. All in the name of love and war. 

Months pass and you play calmly. No husband, just an enemy in some Russian prison. "Y'okay bonnie?" Soap sat beside you during mess hall. "Yeah, just a bit tired from that training," you lie. The sleepless nights you have thought about your husband. You look around the table, no one knowing you knew what would come next from Konni. In the end, it wouldn't be you who got betrayed again. Not tortured, especially not by the men in your husband's team that guarded your life with theirs. 

Mission after mission, you would go to a country near Russia. Have meetings with people on your husband's side, and hear how he would escape prison. Asked you to stay away from his people when the day arrived. Play good, he would remind you. You know the date, time, how and when it would happen. The plan is all memorised in your head. You knew the people that would break him free, you knew it all and yet no one in 141 was aware. 

[Three years ago]

On yet another mission, you got news of Vladimir. He isolated himself, prepared for when he would see you again. Sent letters to you occasionally. Details of love no one would see from a man like him. A love for all movie lovers to never witness. You roamed the home he set out to be his and yours, no one, not even his best soldier knew that home existed. It was days like these that you wished to have stayed in bed and kissed his body, all details to be taken in for when you waited to once more kiss him. 

The picture of the secret wedding was held between your fingers. A smile he dreams to see as he awaits the prison break. The man who was set to believe evil held your hand and promised an entire lifetime of love. "I'm sorry," you whisper as your gaze focuses on the 141 emblem. 

"Never be sorry, never, what they did to you is cruel, you never do that to a woman who was oathed in," fury escaped his lips. It was the night he finally told you all about him. He kissed the scars that the torture room left. In that moment, all else who dared question you, especially the rats of 141 would pay for what they did to his darling. Maybe he did corrupt you, but those scars, the lies they believed and the truths they never heard from you, were way before he met you. He believed in loyalty, good or evil, opposing or not. And the way you told him how you held the oath of being a soldier dear to you, he admired it. He believes that loyalty is essential, and if you are loyal to who you are, he applauds it. 

[Two years ago]

A mission gone wrong, a phone call from within the prison. All he sacrificed to just hear you say, "I'm fine, honey." With that oh-so-soft voice of yours. A sigh of relief came from his lips. This was a reminder he would always be around even from within a guarder tower of hell. His men would always guard you, even if they fought 141, you were never the target. KorTac had a target on their backs when Vladimir found out they were the ones responsible for the bullet on your shoulder. "What is it?" He asked the guard. "The girl has been injured, gunfight at some mission." He had people that worked for him within the guards, and when the news arrived to him, that's when for the first time in his life, he feared life and a gun. Vladimir Makarov is a villain in everyone's eyes. In your eyes that hold paradise, he is peace. He is Vlad, your husband. 

Whilst waiting for Soap to get cleared from the medics, you played with the ring on your necklace. "Oh, R/N, has some lover?" Gaz was the first to notice. Ghost's stare went to you, eyes wide as he heard the words he never needed to hear. Your blush told the words his heart never wanted to hear. 

[One year ago]

[Las Almas, Mexico]

"Are you threatening us?" Ghost asked and in that moment, he made you back away. Guarding you with his body. Betrayal, the first of many he would see with you. That became the night you escaped the shadows of Commander Graves. Soap was somewhere in the city, Ghost and you escaped every chance the shadows had at catching you. Imprisonment is something you got Colonel Vargas out of. Ironic. By the end, you killed him, the man who used his shadows, in some explosion. "You alright, love?" Ghost asked as you went to the aircraft quietly. "Yeah, Mexico just tired me," your head hung as you played with the dog tags. "Who's the lover?" He finally acknowledged the ring. "No one, it's just a silly joke," you lie, something he knew well. "Hmm, yeah...a silly joke," he turned away from you. 

[Present day, 21 November 2023 ] 

[London, England]

The last time you saw them all as a team, well, now that you were sure you'd be a newfound enemy. With Makarov now out of prison, prisoner 627, your love called for him. As Ghost looked through the CCTV cameras, one of the men in Konni gave you the signal. And as you approached, you caught a glimpse of him. Your heart flutters and then you look at Ghost. He nodded and you pretended to try and fight against Makarov. Czar-9-0 Actual. The callsign of your husband and the name of the man you betrayed them for. Guns blazing, bullets directed at them, not you. Gaz and Ghost, a team, Soap and Price, a team, 141, one unit. You, the wife of the enemy. Two bullets and then, the head hit the ground. Young soldier down. "What are you doing?!" Soap asked as you turned on them. A 20-year-old soldier died within seconds, you knew him from when he joined at 18. James, the man whose blood ran on your gun. 

Makarov fired, one of his men held your hand and brought you to your husband. The 141 patch off your uniform as now, you were given the Konni patch. "Welcome back, comrade," a man spoke with an evil grin. Ghost, the eyes that saw the betrayal again. 23 soldiers died, from both sides. 141 on the ground, trying to recover. 

--

"C'mon, Grim, you have to trust me on this, yeah?" the young lieutenant that made Ghost told you. "What if we fall?" you asked. "If you trust me, we won't and if I trust you, we will go home and get a pint or two," He smiles at you. From this day on, you and he became close, a bond no gun could break. 

--

Ghost swore you were taken hostage. And as Makarov was about to kill Captain Price, one of his men tapped him out. "No time, we will get him later!" Ghost's glare never left yours. He shook his head. This can't be, not his R/N. You looked at him, no remorse behind your eyes. It wasn't R/N, it was Grim that stared at him. The soldier he respected the most. You pointed your gun at one of the other soldiers with them. 

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

He jumped at you, to not kill you but to bring you back and let Makarov run with Grim. You pushed him, what turned into a fight for his teammate to be back, became a fight against the enemy. You pushed him to the ground. "Ghost!" Gaz yelled as he saw your gun pointed at him. It was never Makarov that would be his demise. It wasn't an enemy. It was you. It was the one he held dear to his civilian self. The woman he would drink poison for. The one he jumped a bullet for when they were young cadets. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His eyes never left yours and for a second, he saw past Grim and noticed the scared R/N that obeyed her husband. 

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

You put your gun down and turn away, running to Vladimir. His open arms, ready to embrace his darling. Now, all of 141's secrets are with Makarov. It clicked in that instant. How four years ago Makarov knew who Ghost was. How well he knew all their names. It wasn't some file he saw when his hacker got in, no, it was you, the best of all pawns. The train cleaned your tracks. Price and the others stood in fear, all this time, you were part of Konni. Ghost stood in silence. 

In every war he was in, you were there. His favourite of all soldiers. From his early days as just Simon to his latest days as Ghost, all witnessed by you. He was the one who asked for you anywhere he went. His life came in a flash, all the Christmas events, the dinners and drinks he had with his friend...no...enemy. The one person who knew Simon liked the palm of her hand, now holding the man Ghost called an enemy. 

"How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. "But that was years ago," Soap comments. "It started years ago," Gaz mentions. "We weren't meant to win this one gentlemen," Kate informs.

"Fuck!" Ghost's blood boiled. He scared them, he knew that well. So when he slammed his fist on the table, he even made the best of soldiers flinch. "Lt," Soap tried to calm him down. "No, Johnny! You don't get it, you don't know her as I do," he approached the sergeant. "She didn't kill you, why?" Kate walks to the betrayed soldier. "What?" His voice is hoarse. "She had the chance to kill you, headshot even, yet she didn't, she ran to him and then when she did, all fire ceased." Kate is after all a mastermind. "She didn't betray Simon, she betrayed Ghost, she betrayed Soap, not Johnny, Gaz, not Kyle and Bravo six, not John." She states. 

"She betrayed soldiers, not family," Price came to realisation. Grim did that, Grim killed all that came between the goal. 'Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.' The goal wasn't to kill Task Force 141, it was to get revenge for the betrayal, for torturing you in a room, letting your blood drip. You married a man, something all fools do. But even though Makarov wanted you to pull the trigger on Ghost, you didn't. You ran away and the fire ceased. 

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

A/N: see what I did there?...mastermind me y'know

Tags:

@tf141glory @liyanahelena @quaritchscupquake @dilfgestivo @thefragmented @scarletdfox @arialikestea @unicorngirly1 @alhaizen @willowaftxn83-87 @koniglovesme @bbyfimmie @mothcelestial @kit-kats06 @palomesa @dheet @dontfearthereaperazura

[hannahssimblr]

“Wahey!” It’s Kasper who sees us first, skidding around the side of the beach house on our bicycles, firelighters held triumphantly beneath our arms as though we have even the slightest ounce of confidence in our fire-making abilities. They’re all just happy to see us anyway, Kasper, manning the barbeque, and the rest of the small crowd gathered around the old weather beaten table sipping drinks from glass bottles.

The heat is being zapped from the evening, I feel it in the sand as I lay my bike down, so a fire will be welcome, and the sooner the better. Most people are in shorts and t-shirts.  

“Which one of you lucky ducks wants to help Jude bring some sticks around and make a pile for the fire?” Jen says, as though presenting the opportunity of a lifetime. Personally I don’t think that I should have to do it, seeing as I just lugged my bones all the way to the shop and back, but everyone is looking so settled.

“Not you, no?” I say , and she snorts, “You’re on your own. I am wrecked after that cycle. It was uphill all the way there and all the way back,” She slumps into a chair next to Liam, who I forgot was invited. He’s with Evie, the brunette, holding her hand tightly on the rattan seat of the couch between them. 

I tell Jen she’s lazy and ruffle her hair a bit for good measure, but it’s fine. I’m resigned to getting the sticks on my own. 

“I’ll come,” says Liam. 

“Nah, it’s okay.”

“No, really, I want to help.”

I exhale slowly from my nose. “You sure, man?”

“Yeah, it’s no bother!” He leaps up, but appears to have forgotten that he has to let go of Evie’s hand first. Flustered, he apologises, then she does, somehow even more awkwardly and when he finally remembers to drop her hand, she waits for him to stop looking at her to subtly wipe it on the side of her t-shirt.

“That your girlfriend?” I ask him at the wood pile. 

“Yeah, pretty much!”

“Where’d you meet her?”

“Ah, you know, just around the beach and stuff.” I watch him stack more logs into his arms than he needs to, “She’s so cool.”

“Uh huh. How long has this been going on?”

He hesitates, “Not that long.”

“Right.”

I have to enlist Shane’s help to start the fire, which is mildly embarrassing, but when it’s full bodied and roaring, and there are plates of hot food in front of me I feel nothing but satisfaction. God, I love eating. Sometimes I feel like my body is a rubbish bin that I’ll never fill up all the way to the top, but will have the best time trying to. The group has broken off into their own conversations, but I’m not really listening to any, I’m just thinking about this burger and having fantasies about what I’ll put on my second one. 

Liam interrupts me to ask for the ketchup, which I toss to him, and then moments later I hear Evie giggle and say softly, “oh, God. You’ve gotten some of it on your cheek, no, no, not there… hold on, let me get it for you.”

She wraps a serviette around her finger and gently wipes it away for him while he smiles affectionately at her with his mouth full. He’s got another blob of it on his bottom lip. I wonder if he’ll be romantic and ask her to kiss it off in front of all of us as a special treat. 

“You two are so cute.” Kelly barrels in, her voice slurred and indistinct. I glance at her in alarm. I’d hardly registered her presence all evening. How is she suddenly so incredibly drunk? “Two little love birds. I knew you’d be right for each other. When I was thinking of finding a boy for Evie to kiss this summer I thought, wow, wouldn’t little Liam be perfect for her.”

What an awkward thing to say. She glances around the group to see if someone agrees with her, but everyone is avoiding eye contact. 

It’s Liam who breaks the excruciating pause with a hollow laugh. “Little Liam?”

“No no, seriously, take it as a compliment, she doesn’t let any boys near her. I always feel like I have to force her.” 

“That’s not really true.” Evie says, and for a split second she looks at me. Me, for some reason, as though what I think about any of this matters. I shrug. 

“Oh my god! It is!” Kelly gesticulates wildly in some attempt to illustrate just how true it all is, almost knocking her drink off the arm of her chair, “But it’s fine, we accept you for it. Evie’s such a good girl, and most boys are too ugly and boring for her, I’d be flattered if I was Liam. I really would.”

“Okay,” his mouth flattens as he glances at Evie, and she just shakes her head in disbelief.

But Kelly barrels on. “She’s going for it this time. We’re proud of her, no really, we are. She got there in the end. Better late than never, I always say.”

Claire comes out of nowhere and snatches Kelly’s hand, practically lifting her right out of her seat, “Hey, will you come to the bathroom with me?” 

“I don’t need to-” Kelly begins, but her protests are futile. She is going. We all watch as she’s marched into the house, and let the silence linger for several moments after the door slams behind them while Evie stares down at her feet.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a person blush so hard. The agony of it is incredible, it's like something I shouldn’t even be watching, and now I don’t even think I should be eating either. Perhaps someone should do something. Liam should. If he were any good he’d put his arm around her and tell her it’s not a big deal, but he doesn’t do that. He sits there sulking like the ‘little Liam’ comment was more hurtful than any other part of what just occurred. 

It’s Jen that comes to the rescue, murmuring soothing things to Evie about how they should go for a walk together, and I’m relieved that she does. I watch them walk down the beach side by side, further and further from the light of the house, and that’s when I decide to ask if anyone knows exactly what Kelly was drinking.

“Tequila,” Joe confirms guiltily, “I let her have some when she asked me for it. I probably shouldn’t.”

“She goes a bit mad sometimes,” Shane says, “she doesn’t really mean anything by it.”

“Do you think she was making all that stuff up, then?” wonders Liam, “about Evie being picky and all.” and I squint at him. I think there is something a bit pathetic about the fact he is focusing on this point, that a girl who is supposedly selective about who she goes out with is somehow choosing him.

“Yeah it’s probably all bullshit, I wouldn't read into it.” I say. 

“I don’t really want to think about or talk about her on those terms anyway,” Shane says with a shudder, “It’s too weird for me.”

Kasper frowns, “Why? She is pretty.”

He laughs awkwardly, “I dunno about that or anything, but I’ve just known her my whole life. It’s a bit weird to be having these conversations about her when it seems like she was twelve, like, last week or something.”

“She’s finished fifth year,” Liam says defensively. “She's seventeen.”

“Yeah, I’m not saying that she’s literally twelve, I’m saying that I see her like a sister or something, rather than someone who goes out with people.”

“She’s going out with me.”

“Is she though?”

“...kind of.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[regretevator-headcanons]

When infected was Kasper he was in a boy band, only for a few years tho, and its not like he doesn't like to talk about it, he just doesn't mention it unless you ask him.

He was the type of boy band member that every girl UNFORTUNATLY fell in love with bc you would go on a date and he would leave you to play rainbow six siege

He HAD a good singing voice but it sounds pixelated bc of the infection.

Anyway he was totally the stinky gross gamer that every girl was like "OMG hes so cool!! ^_^"

This headcanon was just for kicks and giggles and there's NO CANON info for this lol

THIS ENTIRE THING HAD ME CACKLING HE SOUNDS LIKE MY EX! maybe he is my ex

methinks he used to do both vocals and rhythm guitar. maybe backing vocals. idk. he had an instagram and would post those overly-edited pics to them with captions like "fuk deez otha guyz, im bettr then tham!!!1 PWNED" and everyone would like them and put heart eyes in the comments. his fans would give him like physical letters and gifts and stuff.

he throws around the word "love" a lot when it comes to his fans and it's the intentions are good (even if he's a bit misguided), but he does genuinely love his fans for the fame and money and all the other good things lol.

[somedaytakethetime]

He's literally obsessed with kicking the ball at this kid in this fashion lately... show off..

Bonus of my favourite, precious dansk rotte:

[apersonwholikeslotus]

for: @hetalia-advent-calender

day four, the Christmas tree wars.

Notes: I call Finland Kasper, and Estonia Kalev just bc I don't like their canon names.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“1441” Kalev stated it very clearly. 

“You’re lying, I was first, and it was 1510” Raivis countered, just as serious about the matter. 

Everyone groaned knowing not a single decoration would go up until this had been solved. Every year they all agreed ‘decorating one of our houses together will be fun! Let’s all get together and do it!” and every year this happens. Every year Natalya claimed if it happened again she would leave and not come the next year, and every year she came back anyway. Every year Gilbert and Feliks got a snack and started whispering bets on who would storm off first. Every year Erzsébet would “gently” suggest they stop, while holding Kasper back from jumping in on Kalev’s side. deciding it wasn’t worth it. Adéla and Evžen were really the only two who would leave after hearing enough of it, usually Adéla being the one to drag him off. 

Tolys however, counted himself stuck with it. Part of him wanted to walk away and let them burn down the house if they wanted to; part of him wanted to just join Raivis’ side on account of them being brothers. 

He couldn’t let them burn the house down though, they were at his house anyway, and he liked his house not burnt to a crisp. He couldn’t just join Raivis’ side hoping to tip the scale either, because he was sure then Erzsí would let Kasper join Kalev’s side. Not many people scared Tolys, but Kasper certainly did. 

“I think you’re the one lying” Kalev turned back to the box of decorations, as if he had just ended the argument by accusing the other.

It wasn’t often Raivis looked angry, but now he was seething. “If I was lying, why would I make up a date later than yours?” He went back to the ornament carrier, Tolys almost turned to get a broom just then; better prepared for shattered ornaments. 

“To make it more believable of course.” 

“Exactl-” Kasper spoke up, Erzsébet dragging him back into his seat, saying something about how Kalev can fight his own battles; the Finn grumbling back about how he didn’t think he could. 

Raivis now had an ornament in his hand, a heavy one too. While he was headed for the tree, no one questioned his ability to change his mind at the last minute and throw it at Kalev. Tolys was honestly preparing for it. 

“It wouldn’t make sense for me to do that” he hesitated putting it on the tree, everyone held their breath-

“What if we just google it?” Feliks asked, even for once seeming annoyed at the night's entertainment. “And we can just say whatever that says as the truth for tonight” 

Tolys let out said breath, “That sounds like a good idea, you can argue about it any night but we would all like to decorate tonight” 

Both huffed and puffed, but agreed to the very temporary probably-wouldn’t-even-do-anything solution. Feliks pulled out his phone typing it in, reading out loud; “Who had the first christmas tree”

Gilbert leaned over his shoulder watching as he hit search, and the screen loaded the answer. Feliks rolled his eyes, knowing the other had seen what it said, Gilbert smiled a shit eating grin; “‘Germany is credited with starting the christmas tree tradition as we now know it’ suck on that losers!” 

Tolys registered what had been read, oh this wouldn’t do at all. 

“What was your argument again, Raivis?"

[lildreamycyclone]

HELLO I'M BACK!!!!

GOSH I MISSED YALL!!!!

I will offically continue to post some Ask the Regretevator Fams! Inbox is open!

Anyways have some Kasper for soul

[thevoiceofdesertbluffs]

fun cool wtnv fact: kasper rhodes' favorite food is liquid mercury. he fucking loves liquid mercury

[valedy-x]

kasper in my personal style cause,,, cool dude :D

some hcs i have include kasper having fashion sense and an actual motivation to dress nice/different every day. super cool dude that likes silly bracelets and chains and bright clothing. also its not super visible in the doodle, but he actually has longer hair tied back in a messy bun. and yes its been washed pre-infection kasper is a gamer but he was a decently clean rubber ducky gamer!!!!!

my explanation for his canon clothes is that infected does not give a shit about dressing up. hes the most laziest person youll ever meet and will have an allergic reaction to any kind of self care thing like shampoo or soap. yk when youre so sick that you dont give af about anything and all you want to do is rot in bed? thats infected. he doesnt care about dressing up like a cool person, eating regular foods and meals, etc. hes just on the gamer grind 24/7. dude doesnt even skateboard anymore wtfff,,,

so anyway infected wears that ew pink shirt and baggy pants like all the time. the rest of kaspers clothes are currently rotting in his closet 😞 also he chopped his hair shorter cause the back of his neck was constantly burning, so now it looks like he laid down and let a weedwhacker cut his hair.

oh and the scar on his face is from his first time attempting a back flip (when he was 8 or smthn). literally jumped back and crashed into his moms potted plant. yes dirt got up his nose and his thick skull broke the $100 pot but its a-okay kasper has a cool scar now. he likes to say he got into a fight and won (he has never won a fight in his life lmfao)

LAST HC CAUSE IM YAPPINg but likeeee,,, kasper liked long clothing. he didnt prefer shorts or tshirts. he got cold easily like if lampert turned on the AC kasper would freeze up and instantly die in an ice block. he loved big hoodies and ripped pants theyre so coolcore.

but when he got sick like an idiot and mlp transformed into infected, infected ditched the aesthetic for a dumb tshirt and pants. no jewelry, no long sleeves, switched the beanie for a ratty cap he found behind a dumpster. infected is the opposite of kasper and gets hot easily. he blasts the AC and likes to stick his head in the sub zero fridge to stop his forever migraine. 👍 also eats ice and chews on it like a weirdo.

thats all. deceases

[blingblong55]

Nothing- König

Based on a request:

Hey kasper!! >__< i hope this request finds you in good health, i'm that anon who asked earlier if your reqs are open and dont worry! Im willing to wait <33 just take your time and no rush.. Anyways- May I request a fluff fic on konig (or ghost) where they come home from a very long mission to see that their darling is baking something delicious? (Can be any pastry dish you want WAAHH) Maybe a pastry chef reader and shes on her day off and used the time to bake something! The house smelled definitely like heaven and I bet that Konig (or ghost 😭) was immediately the taste tester for the day!! TEEEHEEEE >3< jus some domestic fluff cause i've been reading way too much angst lately BAAAHHHHAHSHAHAH -🍰 anon :3 ---- F!Reader, fluff, domestic, established!relationship, baker!reader ----

A/N: If you came for the Ghost version of this, click here

It was a tough mission. His body was sore, and scars and bruises adorned him. "Home," he whispers once his body is near to giving up. Home is you, he thinks. His pretty darling is home and all he can do is drive faster. How much can a man last when he isn't in the arms of their lover?

Once he steps wearily through the threshold of his home, his boots fall heavy by the entrance. The weight of the mission on his shoulders but as soon as he caught the aroma wafting through the air, his fatigue seemed to dissipate. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he followed the scent. The mask he dreads to wear home is tossed to the side.

There you are, his pretty girl, standing amidst a flurry of flour a sugar. You didn't notice him as you stook your tongue out and tried to clean the corners of the spoon. Flour from the past minutes is still on your blouse and cheek.

He clears his throat, your eyes light up with delight when you notice him. As you rushed to his side, he felt himself grow those everloving butterflies. "Welcome home," you whisper, your voice soothes his weary soul.

König returns the embrace, savouring the familiar scent of your hair. "It's good to be home, Liebling," he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

Home.

What a funny word, no? At least to him, it is. If you would've told him years ago he'd be calling you his wife or that he'd even have a person to go to, he'd laugh at your nonsense. A man like him isn't worthy of a home–

"I missed you Bär," you say as you cup his face. It's beautiful really, how he lets you love him this much. It's poetic how good he feels when he sees you even more when you hold him like this. Are you truly an angel?

As you both pull away, he can't help but admire the sight before him. Flour dust on that pretty face of yours and your hair pulled back into that clipped messy bun, yet you are still the most beautiful sight he has ever seen. The warmth of your smile is chased by shadows that linger in his mind, and he feels a surge of gratitude for your presence in his life.

I mean look at you, what good must he have done to have you here?

"What are you baking?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you gesture to the countertop. "I'm experimenting with a new recipe. Chocolate chip cookies."

König's stomach rumbled in anticipation, and he couldn't resist stealing a taste of the dough. You laugh at his eagerness, swatting his hand away. "Patience, Bär," you smile. "They'll be ready soon enough."

Maybe all is well and he doesn't have to run or hide. He can just be here, with you.

As you two wait for the cookies to bake, he finds himself drawn to your side, appreciating the simple pleasure of being in your company. You two exchange stories of your week. Laugh and playful pushes followed along.

What if this is what he is meant for? Maybe life isn't so bad for a man like him. Not with you, at least.

Finally, the timer dinged, signalling the cookies were done. As you pull the tray out of the oven, he finds himself dreaming of more. Maybe next time around, when all is peaceful, there will be a kid, maybe two eagerly waiting for a taste of a new family recipe.

"These are incredible," König declares as he takes another bite and savours the sweetness with his tongue.

You beam with pride, your cheeks flush with pleasure from this compliment. "I'm glad you think so. There's plenty more where that came from," your voice softer now.

As you two indulge in this impromptu midnight snack, König can't shake the feeling of contentment that settles over him. In this moment, surrounded by warmth and love, he knows that there is nowhere else in the world he rather be.

And as he and you lean on the counters, he realises that sometimes, the greatest adventures were found not in the battlefield, but in the quiet moments of domestic blissed with the one he holds dear.

F!Reader, fluff, domestic, established!relationship, baker!reader

It was a tough mission. His body was sore, and scars and bruises adorned him. "Home," he whispers once his body is near to giving up. Home is you, he thinks. His pretty darling is home and all he can do is drive faster. How much can a man last when he isn't in the arms of their lover?

Once he steps wearily through the threshold of his home, his boots fall heavy by the entrance. The weight of the mission on his shoulders but as soon as he caught the aroma wafting through the air, his fatigue seemed to dissipate. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he followed the scent. The mask he dreads to wear home is tossed to the side.

There you are, his pretty girl, standing amidst a flurry of flour a sugar. You didn't notice him as you stook your tongue out and tried to clean the corners of the spoon. Flour from the past minutes is still on your blouse and cheek.

He clears his throat, your eyes light up with delight when you notice him. As you rushed to his side, he felt himself grow those everloving butterflies. "Welcome home," you whisper, your voice soothes his weary soul.

König returns the embrace, savouring the familiar scent of your hair. "It's good to be home, Liebling," he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

Home.

What a funny word, no? At least to him, it is. If you would've told him years ago he'd be calling you his wife or that he'd even have a person to go to, he'd laugh at your nonsense. A man like him isn't worthy of a home–

"I missed you Bär," you say as you cup his face. It's beautiful really, how he lets you love him this much. It's poetic how good he feels when he sees you even more when you hold him like this. Are you truly an angel?

As you both pull away, he can't help but admire the sight before him. Flour dust on that pretty face of yours and your hair pulled back into that clipped messy bun, yet you are still the most beautiful sight he has ever seen. The warmth of your smile is chased by shadows that linger in his mind, and he feels a surge of gratitude for your presence in his life.

I mean look at you, what good must he have done to have you here?

"What are you baking?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you gesture to the countertop. "I'm experimenting with a new recipe. Chocolate chip cookies."

König's stomach rumbled in anticipation, and he couldn't resist stealing a taste of the dough. You laugh at his eagerness, swatting his hand away. "Patience, Bär," you smile. "They'll be ready soon enough."

Maybe all is well and he doesn't have to run or hide. He can just be here, with you.

As you two wait for the cookies to bake, he finds himself drawn to your side, appreciating the simple pleasure of being in your company. You two exchange stories of your week. Laugh and playful pushes followed along.

What if this is what he is meant for? Maybe life isn't so bad for a man like him. Not with you, at least.

Finally, the timer dinged, signalling the cookies were done. As you pull the tray out of the oven, he finds himself dreaming of more. Maybe next time around, when all is peaceful, there will be a kid, maybe two eagerly waiting for a taste of a new family recipe.

"These are incredible," König declares as he takes another bite and savours the sweetness with his tongue.

You beam with pride, your cheeks flush with pleasure from this compliment. "I'm glad you think so. There's plenty more where that came from," your voice softer now.

As you two indulge in this impromptu midnight snack, König can't shake the feeling of contentment that settles over him. In this moment, surrounded by warmth and love, he knows that there is nowhere else in the world he rather be.

And as he and you lean on the counters, he realises that sometimes, the greatest adventures were found not in the battlefield, but in the quiet moments of domestic blissed with the one he holds dear.

A/N: I want to hold him.....

Tags:

@simpsallthetime1997 @tipsykeen @lonelybitchs-world @viawritesstuff @avaleigh16 @aprilplage @wtfwhydoesnooneknowthebooksilove @undercover-smutlover @riskyboi123 @madsdawson @rennroo @liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @frizzseaberries @spicypicklesoh @viomast @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @tuihiatus @iruzias @sleepyycatt

[hannahssimblr]

Shane arrives in the late afternoon, and suddenly we are five. In the aftermath of the storm, when the tarmac is black and the air is fragrant with petrichor we hike to the touristy side of the beach to have drinks at the Surf Shack. We wipe rain off the picnic benches and sit overlooking the sea. It’s choppy, the sand pockmarked with puddles, but the humid heaviness the last few days spent building has been lifted away, leaving crisp, fresh air in its place. At least for now.

Jen starts demanding everyone’s highlight reel of the past year after only two minutes of small talk, and we talk about how Joe broke his wrist playing frisbee, Jen applied to eleven business schools because she didn’t know what else to put on the forms, and Shane lost his virginity to some girl called Aishling in January, though getting that tidbit is like dragging information from a stone. To distract from our nudges and kissy noises Shane asks me about Michelle, which doesn't help, because then I have to tell them all that we broke up.

It instantly zaps the fun out of things and makes the boys awkward. They grumble vague condolences and start looking around the place like they can pull a less depressing topic of conversation out of the air. I remind myself not to mention her again. 

But they don’t have to sit in this particular discomfort for long, because our drinks arrive, carried by Liam, who invites a brand new one by lingering around the table and trying to make conversation. I grit my teeth and remember to be nice.

“Ah look who’s here!” He beams, “the gang are back together!”

“Hi Liam!” Jen’s tone is straining with enthusiasm, “good to see you again, you done your leaving cert?”

“I am indeed! Finished up there last week, t’was some slog, I’ll tell you that. I was just dying to get back out here to the beach and do a bit of surfing. The first group of kids doing the classes are to be down now on the first week of July, and sure then it’s go go go! But look, sure it’s great craic altogether, can’t complain.”

He’s met with blank stares. 

“Oh yeah! Sounds fun.” Jen says after a beat, “Well, it’s nice to see-”

“Having any parties or anything like that this summer?” he asks. 

“Um, well we’re not sure, but if we do we’ll invite you.” I give her a subtle kick beneath the table, which is a mistake, because she turns her huge, beaming smile on me. Her eyes glint threateningly, “You should ask Jude though, we’re staying at his house, so he gets to decide.”

“Yeah,” I say, “Um, we’ll invite you to whatever we’re doing, we just don’t know yet.” Fine. I want to say to Jen. I’ll invite him, but you can take care of him in the toilet when he’s hammered and sick after one beer. 

“That’d be so cool, thanks!” he says, “and I’ve something you can do too, as it happens. My dad is having the first karaoke night of the year down at the local pub next week, you know, just to kind of usher in the beginning of the busy season. You should definitely come along.”

“Karaoke?” Joe echoes, “you want us to sing songs?”

“Well who doesn’t like a good auld sing-song? It’ll be a bit of fun.”

“Probably not,” Joe then turns to Kasper to try and explain to him what is happening in simple English. “Nah, Karaoke, like, singing, and shit” he mutters, “like,” he holds an invisible microphone to his mouth, “la la la, bla bla bla, like, that, like.”

Look, maybe,” I tell Liam, “I don’t think we’re exactly singers here, but we might come to the pub anyway for a few drinks.”

“You might be compelled to belt out a tune or two while you’re there.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Alright!” he starts walking back to the Surf Shack, turning one more time to point into our faces, “Think of ye’re songs between now and then, will ya? Just in case you change your mind at some stage!” 

Jen looks at me expectantly once he’s gone, and I immediately groan, slumping in my seat under the weight of her expectation. “Fine, I’ll invite him to whatever party, Jen, but I’m not fucking doing karaoke.” 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Tragic Kingdom

(I know the above gif is from OUAT. Don't come for me. I like Josh Dallas more than Zachary Levi)

I have been writing this for a while and was afraid to post it because it is a bit self indulgent. But, that's why we write this stuff right? Anyway. Here it is. WARNINGS: 18+ please.

I have been writing this story for months and I have no idea where I'm going but here it is.

The day you were born there was a terrible storm. The palace midwives had to deliver you under flickering lamplight through fierce winds. They say when you let out your first cry, there was a clap of thunder so loud the walls shook. Your mother swore it was your seiðr passing through the heavens into your tiny body. The magic was the very same practiced by her and all her mothers before her.

In another room entirely at the breast of his nurse was Loki. When the thunder boomed he smiled and clapped as though he was waiting for you. And perhaps, if midwives and nurses were to be believed, the little Prince was doing just that. Waiting for his partner in crime.

And what a fright the two of you were. As babbling toddlers you terrorized any young nurse who dared to manage you. If Loki wasn’t cloning himself you were vanishing into thin air. By the end of their shift some of the poor dears left shaking. It got to a point that Frigga herself had to bind your powers until you were mature enough to wield them.

Even without powers you managed to create all sorts of chaos. Loki truly earned his moniker as the god of mischief. You happily followed along with every prank he came up with. Torturing Thor was among your favorite games. You meant no harm really. And, your little self couldn’t do much damage to him anyway. Of course the older boy took it in stride and doled out just as much torture as you. You supposed this is what it felt like to have siblings.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

You were the only child Kasper and Astrid bore. Kasper was Odin’s top general for millennia and his most trusted adviser. It was only natural for Astrid and Frigga to be just as close. Both women hailed from magical backgrounds and spent hours toiling until their husbands arrived home from battle. Astrid was a formidable healer and managed the entire fleet. There wasn’t a healer in the realm who didn’t learn at her hand.

The time had come for you to begin your apprenticeship with your mother and Frigga and Loki would begin taking on the duties of a Prince. You spent hours learning about herbs and spells while Loki learned military strategy and swordsmanship. At the end of the day, you would meet in the library to debrief.

“I trained with a broadsword today. Too short. I’d like one with at least three fullers and a lighter steel. Better for thrusting and slashing. What did you do today?” He was genuinely interested to learn what you learned. While knives and swords were infinitely more entertaining than lying about all day, he missed his mother. He missed you.

You couldn’t hide your jealousy from Loki. You begged your father mercilessly to allow you to train. He dismissed your requests and sent you back to your mother. No place for a lady is all he said. Loki tried to hide his smile when he saw the anger build in your face, “Oh it was fascinating. I learned all about wolfsbane and it’s proper care and handling.” You rolled your eyes, “Not all of us can have as joyous a day as you, my prince.”

“Don’t be a brat. Be grateful that you have a purpose more important than simply marrying and bearing children. Though, I suppose that is expected of you as well.” He rested his chin on your shoulder pulling you in tight against his body.

Your whole face flushed at the gesture. You’ve always carried feelings for Loki though you’d never admit to them. It never occurred to you that you wanted more until he began dating. And the term “dating” is used rather loosely. Loki would bed anyone and anything warm blooded. To the outward observer, Loki is a cold and cunning miscreant who left a trail of broken hearts. There wasn’t a chambermaid in the palace who hadn’t warmed his bed. Loki developed quite the reputation. With you, he was always gentle and, in private, he cherished you. You knew Loki would likely never marry outside of the realm. Thor was the heir to the throne so his future bride would need to be someone of great political stature to strengthen the realms. Loki could marry whomever he chose. It was always in the back of your mother’s mind that you would marry Loki uniting your two families for a lifetime. However, as Loki’s trysts became public knowledge, your father shut down those thoughts. He never wanted you to be disrespected and Loki was nothing if not a scoundrel. In your heart of hearts you held out hope that maybe an arrangement could be made. Loki wouldn’t hear of it. The whole institution of marriage was abhorrent to him. Loki has a long life ahead of him and he intends to live it to the fullest.

“You could ask for my hand. That way we don’t have to worry about all the trappings of marriage.” He kissed your temple and squeezed you tighter.

“But don’t you want to marry for love, kjære?”

That stung. You and Loki adored each other, sure. But he clearly had no romantic thoughts for you. “Don’t we love each other?” you asked to test the waters. “I love you.”

With a deep sigh he nuzzled your hair, “I do love you. Have since you were born. But not the way your husband would. Not the way you deserve to be loved.”

Before you died of embarrassment you pulled away from him and went back to your book. “What I deserve is to choose the way I live my life. Lady Sif has started to train with the rest of the soldiers. Why can’t I?”

“Lady Sif is a brute. Her talents are with a sword. While you are brilliant with a blade you’re far more effective with your magic.”

“Sif’s more effective with what’s between her legs. Perhaps I should put myself to use in the same way to get what I want.” For a split second you thought you saw Loki blush. Anger bubbled in your chest at his physical admission to their relationship. “Point proven.” You poked at his cheek and he batted your hand away.

“Speaking of poor decisions, I’m off to the feast. Don’t stay up too late, pet.” He kissed your forehead and got up from the table.

“Can I come? Please, Loki. I never get to go to the feasts.”

His eyes widened, “Your father would have my head. Drunken debauchery is absolutely no place for you. Good girls who want husbands don’t attend parties.”

You rolled your eyes as he bounced excitedly from the room. “Lady Sif gets to go!” You yelled after him.

“Exactly my point.” he bellowed from the hall.

You were sick and tired of being treated like a child. If it were up to Loki, you’d be locked in a tower nose buried in a book until it was time for you to court. You wondered if Loki ever gave any real thought that you would marry. Not that your endless studying would do you any good. Most men didn’t appreciate women who were smarter than them. Men didn’t want rousing debates with their wives. Even Loki didn’t seem to find that attractive. If he had, you’d be together.

You stayed up for several more hours. When your eyes couldn’t keep open any longer you went back to your room. On the way you heard giggling and stumbling feet. You hid behind a column only to see Loki and your chambermaid carrying on together. You stilled yourself trying to be invisible as you watched her drop to her knees.

You wished he wanted you that way. Longed to be the one making him throw his head back and moan your name. You forgot yourself for a moment and slowly crept out of your hiding space to get a better look. Loki caught sight of you and froze in his movements. He quickly concealed his erection still panting with lust blown pupils. His cheeks were flushed and his hair wild. “My lady, you shouldn’t be out at this hour. Go to bed.” he commanded. He had the gall to order you back to your room as if he had any such authority to do so. You were mortified. With a clenched throat and tears in your eyes you stumbled over an apology.

“I…I’m sorry, my Prince.” You ran to your room not daring to look back at them. Tears streamed hot down your cheeks as you sobbed into your pillow. He spoke to you in the same manner as a parent would speak to their child.

Moments later you heard him tapping on your door. You hid under your covers pretending to be asleep. What could he have possibly wanted? He absolutely wouldn’t apologize. Likely he was coming to scold you for interrupting. You planned to avoid him the next day.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When your chambermaid entered the next morning you were already dressed and out of bed. You barely acknowledged her when she said good morning. She set your tea and breakfast on the table and picked up the tools she needed to style your hair. “That’ll be all Hanna.” You had never been so short with her before. She thought it best to apologize for last night.

“My lady, I want to say I’m sorry for my behavior. It was not appropriate. It will not happen again.” She looked genuinely sorry but you were still fuming.

“Hanna, how you spend your free time is not of my concern. However, I do expect a certain level of decorum. Anyone else would have relieved you of your duties. If you prefer to….handle Prince Loki, I’ll allow it. If you wish to continue your time with me I will never know of your escapades again. Am I clear?”

Her lip quivered, “Yes, ma’am.” She lowered her head and made haste out of your room. Hanna passed Fandral walking through the hallway. “My lord.” Her voice shook.

He chuckled to himself recalling Loki’s story at the stables this morning of how he was discovered. When you came striding out nose high in the air, Fandral couldn’t help but laugh hysterically. “Did you make poor Hanna cry, my lady?”

“I’m sure I do not know what you mean, my lord. Good day.” Your pace quickened towards the library.

He grabbed your arm, turning you on your heels. “As vicious as she is beautiful. Come now. You mustn’t blame poor Hanna when the one you’re really angry with is Loki.”

“I’m not angry with anyone. Why would I have any reason to be angry? I don’t own Loki. We’re not betrothed. He does as he wishes.”

His eyes softened, “Because you’re in love with him. Everyone sees it. The way you moon over him is adorable.”

You square your shoulders and step out of his grasp, “My feelings, sir, are my business. I am sure you have far more important things to attend to this morning. Now if I may take my leave.”

He held his hands up in surrender as you stomped away. “For what it’s worth I think he is mad to ignore a fine creature such as yourself. Any man would be blessed by the gods to be yours.”

“And I suppose you know such a man?” You were speaking in jest but genuinely wished he would make a move. All of Thor and Loki’s friends were nice enough to you but Fandral relentlessly flirted with you. It always drove Loki crazy that the blonde was so brazen which amused Fandral endlessly. At first the flirting was just to get under Loki’s skin but, as you blossomed a little more, he found himself getting a little flustered in your presence. You enjoyed the attention especially from him.

“Dare I dream that man could be me?”

“There’s no harm in dreaming.” You winked at him and hurried away to the library leaving behind a very hopeful gentleman.

Surely everyone doesn’t know how you feel. To think you were that obvious. The library was mercifully empty at this time of morning. The words blurred on the page through the angry tears that were trying to escape. It was impossible to focus.

If Fandral knew about this incident then they must talk about you often. Norns! Did they laugh about you? You must seem so puerile that it is hard to take you seriously as their peer, much less a woman with whom any man would want a romance.

It occurred to you that you had never dared to ask about attending parties because Loki made you think your father would hang him for taking you. You knew better. You were an adult. It wasn’t as though your parents locked you away in a dark tower. Loki wanted to keep you tucked away for himself. You were his little treasure. It was about damn time you stepped out on your own and out of his shadow. Tonight you would feast and dance and drink like the lot of them. Loki be damned.

You went back toward the armory where Fandral would be. He set your thoughts in motion. He could at least help you prepare for this evening. Everyone would expect you to be awkward never once leaving Loki’s side. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. At least you knew you had an ally in Fandral.

He spotted you with an arrogant twinkle in his eye, “Have you come to put me in my place again?”

“No,” your fingers knotted together, “I am coming to the feast tonight and I don’t know how to dance. Will you teach me?” He would have laughed had you not been so embarrassed.

“I would be honored.” He held out his hand and bowed. You took it with great trepidation but you relaxed under his gaze. He was warm and tender and, most importantly, patient. There was no music so he hummed to keep time. Once you were confident enough you halted your practice.

“Am I horrible? Be honest.” Your forehead glistened with sweat that you dabbed away with your sleeve.

“You are a quick study. Very light on your feet. Should you feel nervous this evening, I shall be elated to sweep you around the dance floor.” You bowed to each other once more and did not immediately drop hands. For a fleeting second, you stared into each other’s eyes. His gentleness is what reeled you in to this moment. This moment where you no longer cared about Loki and hidden feelings. They no longer served you. Not when you were staring into the kind eyes of this golden boy.

His hand fell to the small of your back and just when your lips were about to touch, Loki and Thor bounded into the room. You giggled nervously and murmured something unintelligible as you ran from the room.

Fandral pretended as though nothing was amiss though the tension was palpable. The god circled him, sizing him up poised for action. “What exactly was lady Y/n doing here?”

Fandral squared his shoulders, “She asked me to teach her to dance. She didn’t want to embarrass herself at the feast this evening.”

A million things ran through Loki’s head all of which were ways to keep you away. He didn’t want you to see him with another woman. Before last night, you had never seen him with anyone else. He was so careful to keep you separated from the drunken embarrassment everyone painted him to be. With you he did not have to keep up appearances. He closed the space between himself and Fandral speaking in a low toneless voice, “If I ever catch you with your hands on her again, you will beg for death. Am I clear?”

Fandral inched closer so they were nearly touching. He felt compelled to defend your honor. “She doesn’t belong to you.” Loki seethed with anger. The thought of you with a man made him sick. “You are either blind or unbelievably cruel to ignore her feelings. I should think it’s the latter.”

It wasn’t as though he never thought of bedding you. You had blossomed into a beautiful woman right before his very eyes. He would be foolish not to think of you that way. Loki thought himself incapable of loving anyone. To think of treating you as he treated others made him sick. Furthermore, if he gave in to your feelings, he was scared you would want more from him. More than he was able to give. He always thought the Norns made you for him. The other half of his soul. His most treasured gift. You were his. And, because you love him so completely, you would remain a constant in his life. It seemed you grew tired of him keeping you for himself and now you were moving on. He could not bear the thought of you belonging to someone else. If physical intimacy was what you needed to keep you, he would give it to you.

He barged into your room only to find Hanna setting out your night clothes. “Prince Loki. My lady has gone for the evening.” She moved to touch him, looking at him through her lashes poised to pleasure him when he caught her wrist. Her face fell, “My apologies. I thought…”

“Do you know where she went?” His voice was deadly cold.

“The banquet hall.” She stuttered. He flew out of your chambers to the hall to find you. He fully expected you to be huddled in the corner but you were doing the exact opposite. In a blush colored frock split down to your navel, you laughed and drank with the rest of the crew. You did not even bother to look up when he cleared his throat to announce himself. Fandral straightened his spine making eye contact with him and flashed a debonair smile his way.

The musicians began playing a spirited tune perfect for showing off your new moves. “My lord?” You held out your hand to the blonde who accepted with a laugh. Loki glared at the two of you, fire snapping in his gaze. You were not nervous or timid but confident and, dare he think it, graceful.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, my lady.” As Fandral whisked you round the floor, the rest of the group was silent. If looks could kill, the two of you would be corpses. Just as practiced, the two of you bounced and swished through the song smiling and giggling the whole time. Before you could catch your breath the music slowed and, instead of sitting down, he pulled you close. “It’s just a simple box step. Follow my lead. 1..2..3….1..2..3…” You rested your head on his shoulder allowing him to touch you. The tension you felt earlier was mounting again, knotting in your belly. He felt it too. You gazed up at him, wet your lips and let your eyes flutter closed. If he kissed you in front of Loki, he would be dead before he knew what hit him. The song ended and he bowed. The look on your face made his heart lurch.

“Did I do something wrong?” Your voice was small and hurt. He knew nothing at this moment other than he never wanted to cause you pain again.

“No, my darling. You were wonderful. We cannot do this here. Too many judging eyes.” You followed his glances to see Loki seething at one table and Elanora (Fandral’a former lover) pouting at another. “I want nothing more than to kiss you until you are void of breath. We just have to be smart. We’ll stay for a little while longer then slip out when they’re all good and drunk.” You nodded and headed back to the table.

Waiting for the perfect moment was tricky. Loki didn’t seem to be drinking as heartily as usual and he had no women to entertain. He watched you share stolen glances and secret touches with Fandral the whole night. Everyone did. Even Volstagg who was usually blissfully unaware of anyone but himself. He leaned in to speak in his friend’s ear. “I hope you know what you are doing, my friend. You know Loki’s pet is off limits.”

Fandral tamped down his anger with another swallow of his drink, “Lady Y/N is no one’s pet. She does as she chooses and tonight, she has finally chosen me. Loki can find another plaything.”

With a hearty laugh Volstagg slapped his brother on the back, “You finally wore her down I see.” The entire table turned to look at him. Fandral coughed and shot you an apologetic look. If your plan was to make Loki die of jealousy it was working. He would have Fandral banished for this.

After several more rounds you grew tired of waiting and took your leave. You offered a quick and quiet good evening, careful to catch Fandral’s eye. He nodded as Thor helped you out of the crowd. Loki was nowhere to be seen

The plan was to go back to your room where Fandral would meet you. No sooner did you make it out of the door did you feel Loki’s hand wrapped around your wrist. You jumped at his touch but he didn’t relent.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“I am sure I can manage.”

“You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” You tried to look past him praying Fandral stayed put. “Kjære, answer me.”

“I am embarrassed. I have always known of your proclivities but to see you with another woman caused me more pain than I can stand.” Fandral slipped out of the door and to your room undetected. You let out the breath you were holding once he was out of view.

“Why haven’t you said anything? Why haven’t you told me how you feel?” His breath tickled your forehead. He kissed you so tenderly that you nearly forgot what you were doing. On any other night, you would play right into Loki’s hands. He would give you just enough to keep you hanging on. Not tonight. Tonight you would not have to wish for love. It was already waiting for you.

“What would have changed? You have no feelings for me. You said as much in the library. You don’t love me the way I deserve.”

“I do not wish to ruin us. You are far too precious to me. But, if fucking you into oblivion would make you happy, I will endeavor to do just that.” He kissed you on your cheek then hovered in front of your lips where you stopped him.

“Will you be any more in love with me afterwards?” He had no answer because he honestly did not know. With that, you gently removed his hands from your waist and walked away without looking back. For the first time in years, Loki went to bed alone lost in thought.

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Fandral paced the length of your room until he heard your soft footfalls. This was madness. He was explicitly forbidden from touching you. Loki will see him hanged for this. Then again, when has he ever done anything someone told him to do? He genuinely enjoyed your company. And, if you’ll allow him, he will worship every inch of you.

Your cheeks were rosy and your breast heaved from running. “I thought he would never let me go.” Fandral’s hands were finally on you and you could barely catch your breath. He kissed his way up the column of your neck savoring the sweet sting of alcohol still lingering on your breath. You felt more aroused in this moment than you had in your entire life. You whimpered as he sucked at your pulse.

“What do you want? Tell me and I will make it so.” His breath was hot against your skin. You could not begin to answer the question. Your knowledge of sex was limited to say the least.

“I’ll follow your lead, my lord.” He removed his tunic and freed his swollen member. You reached out to touch it, making him hiss. Holding your hand he guided yours up and down his shaft making sure to gather as much of his leaking seed as lubricant.

“Yes, my darling. You are doing so well.” The more he moaned the faster you went relishing the power this held. He stopped you when it became too much. His hands made quick work of unclasping the back of your dress freeing your breasts where he buried his face. His hands roamed and explored your body touching every soft curve. You were panting with need

“Please…oh my…” Through your silken splendor his fingers worked up a rhythm that had you pleading for relief. He slipped off your dress the rest of the way and led you to your bed, never breaking contact. A low wail left your lips as the knot in your belly broke. You could have stopped right there but he was hardly finished.

“Is this your first time?” He asked in between kisses. You nodded. “Do you want me to stop?” You shook your head quickly “no”. He chuckled at your admission. “I am going to go slow. If it’s too much…”

“Fuck me.” You whispered in his ear. That’s all he needed. He eased into your soaked core feeling every velvety inch of you. You both groaned at the sensation. It wasn’t long before your pleasure built. His hand slotted between your bodies working your clit bringing you both to your end. He pulled out quickly keeping his pace on the tiny little button as he released in hot spurts over your tummy and breasts while you whined and mewled through your own release in his hand.

He collapsed onto the bed and kissed you so deeply that it truly felt as though he had stolen your breath. Fandral kept his promises.

Your limbs felt heavy and your eyelids started to droop. “It’s almost dawn. I wish I could lie in your arms forever but I should go before we’re caught.” He dressed enough to slip through the halls.

“Thank you for tonight.” You smiled lazily at him as you burrowed under your blankets.

“I assure you, my lady, the pleasure was all mine.” He kissed you once more, “Until we meet again.”