#if you thought i was cool and collected when we spoke i am not about to disabuse you of that notion sir

[collectivecloseness]

Imagine being at a corroded coffin gig and eddie says something like this one's for my *insert cringey pet name* and all the girls are just jealous of whoever that might be and you're just standing there like 🧍‍♀️ and completely red

He totally loves messing with you. Obviously only in funny ways. But he can picture things being a story he’ll get Gareth to include in a best man speech Eddie and yours wedding one day.

You told Eddie you didn’t want to be on stage with him, when he proposed bringing you up by your hand and singing to you, or showing off his hot girlfriend to the audience, because he was truly happy. And while you didn’t mind him making things official to the public, now you two presumed there was a newly public view on him, there was a different problem. You told Eddie you absolutely did not want to be shown off during a live set. That seemed mortifying, in a stage fright way. But he could respect you not wanting to go up on stage, that was fine, even if he’d scream to the whole world that he was your soulmate. You told him that you’d just be embarrassed. Also, you didn’t want to be mauled by the small mass of parasocial fans Eddie was starting to collect. Corroded Coffin were just starting to get big, but that also meant that some of their fans were more... hardcore, when it came to their love of certain members. Being so fresh to Corroded Coffin actually being successful, with a small but committed fanbase. With Eddie being the shining headliner for loving fans. You didn’t actually think any of the girls would eat you alive in the crowd if Eddie did point you out. Although the thought of someone waiting at the back door to the bar, to hurl insults at you, was a little anxiety inducing.

Eddie promised not to bring you on stage with a lighthearted laugh however. Although his extra comment of “But I didn’t say anything about embarrassing you” was something you weren’t sure whether you actually had to worry about or not. You at least knew Eddie wouldn’t actually hurt you like that. But him playing a game? Ohhh yeah

You were coming back from the fridge with your soda as Eddie looked up at you, taking a cooling sip before you continued this topic of conversation for the night. “I mean, I don’t mind you calling me, like, your snugglebug at home or anything, ya know? But saying that in front of a bunch of people... someone’s gonna jump me.” You half joked.

Eddie hummed, smiling relaxedly up at you. “You like that one, don’t you?” He said, opening his arm as you nodded, quickly shuffling into his side on the couch, under his extended limb. You sat against Eddie’s chest, as he nuzzled your head with his chin, happily. “Well you are my snugglebug baby.”

You smiled, looking up at him, and picking away your strings of hair that stayed attached to his jaw. Feeling it move as he spoke softly again. “And good. Cos I love snuggling with you.”

Eddie kissed all over your face, quick and direct attacks as you didn’t move away, but just beamed up at him as he did so. Eyes closed because he kept pressing kisses to them, but your face saying enough. As his soft pecks moved to the back of your hand he picked up, you opened your freed mouth. “Yeah. But, you may lose your metal cred if you say that in front of all those other metal fans.”

“I don’t care. It’s true.” Eddie swears solemnly, eyes playful as he leans his head agaisnt your chest now, falling like a lump half into your lap, so he can look up at you and make sure you’re seeing his exaggerated faces. “Plus, metal people can be all sweet. I am.”

You hum, interrupting as you ‘consider’ that fact, slapping away Eddie’s hand that whacked you first.

“Hmm!” Eddie repeats mockingly, sticking his tongue out at you. “We are though! We’re just normal people... mostly. Are you saying that makes me less metal?” He asks, faux offended, with a hand to his chest.

“Yes.” You respond bluntly. Only to tease him. Eddie bites your titty in retaliation, only lowly laughing when you shove his jaw away after yelling ‘ow!’ “That’s not even that bad a pet name. I could think of plenty mushy gushy sickly sweet creepily involved names to say!” He states proudly.

“I don’t know if that’d be more embarrassing for me, or for you. Although I don’t know if you’re capable of showing embarrassment Munson.” You raise your eyebrow, rubbing his chest with a playful shake. “People may still think it’s unmetal.”

“Nah!” Eddie responds, causing you to roll your eyes, even though you smile. You love how secure Eddie is most of the time. “They won’t. I could say anything and those fellow sheepies would eat... it... up!” Eddie pounces up and gnaws on your face, wrapping his arms around you the more he hears you laughing. Before committing to not canabalise his girlfriend, and pushing his face into your neck, nuzzling there with a whining sigh.

You poke him. Grinning. “See? Snugglebug.”

Eddie sticks his thumb out affirmatively, smiling more into your shoulder when he hears you laugh at his antics, before cuddling you with said arm again. “Yupppp. You too.”

You’re cheering the loudest in a room of fans, as Corroded Coffin finish one of their songs. This one particularly had a lot of guitar, even though they all did, but it was one Eddie got a sick solo on too, so you had to cheer just that bit louder for your boyfriend. Even though you of course, loved the other guys too. You cupped your hands around you mouth as you wooed for him, the band all stretching their fingers as the speakers finally quieted a little.

Some of the girls surrounding you were cheering louder too, because Eddie was coming up to the microphone. You looked on from your front row, the other band members taking drinks of water as Eddie slammed his forearm against his sweaty head, asking the crowd how everyone was doing tonight, as he fixed the fact that he’d made his fringe crazy bad, getting a bunch of cheers in response.

Eddie looked down at you now, a smile already plastered on his face, but crinkling just that bit brighter as he looked at you. Able to see you even with the stage lights, because you always came early to get that front row room, just so he could see you there.

Eddie took off his denim vest, leaving his sleeveless black tee clinging to his sweating torso, chained bracelets jangling as pointed out to the crowd. “I’ve got a very special person in the room with me tonight. My own personal love, here to support me like always, guys and gals.”

You knew Eddie wouldn’t be able to see your pinched and simultaneously looking-like-you-were-about-to-explode expression, but he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were still surfing the crowd, occasionally giving you a glance as he grinned. Girls in your ears cheered louder, some friends grabbing each other and shaking them, people amping each other up.

“So this next one’s for my baby dolly, my hot patootie, my kitten whiskers, right here in the room with us tonight!” Eddie jumped straight back to his guitar, the drums starting up before he could even finish his last word, as one girl started crying in your ear, and others were screaming for Eddie’s attention still. Some looking far and wide in the crowd for this... ‘lover’.

You didn’t want to stand out, by acting odd. But you were literally just... standing there. You bounced your shoulders a little to the music, just to not catch suspicion, in your mind going through one more time what Eddie had just done.

And then, a smile formed on your tight lips. Shaking your head at Eddie when he chanced a look over at you, even risking a wink, how could he not for his lover, with his teeth gleaming from his cocky smile. You were still smirking back at him. Asshole. He didn’t even pick a romance song afterwards! This was just some random cover.

You totally weren’t gonna let him have snugglebug privileges at home tonight

[starsandhughes]

Bloody Faces, Bloody Hearts

request: “I would love to see trevor zegras prompt 30 if you want to write it”

prompt 30: “you’re hurt just let me help you”

parings: trevor zegras x reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

warnings: injuries, crying, underage drinking, kinda describing a panic attack, pain medication mention, angst to fluff, fighting, arguing

word count: 2.3k (i love writing angst) UNEDITED

(A/N i didn’t specify the team or other player bc i didn’t wanna slander anyone)

Your ever so lovely boyfriend, Trevor, was getting into a lot of fights as of late. But in the span of 5 days, he managed to not only have a physical fight on the ice, but also got into a huge argumentative fight with you.

You were sitting on the couch at Trevor and Jamie’s place trying to collect yourself. You and Trevor got into a screaming match over him going out and coming home late almost every day for two weeks and not making any time to spend with you. You didn’t care about practices, or him going on long roadies, hell you even came with on short ones when you could get out of work. Hockey isn’t, and never will be, the problem. The problem is that you went three days without seeing him other than when he got into bed next to you.

“I think I should go home.”

“What?” Trevor asked. “You are home, what do you mean ‘I think I should go home’?”

“I mean I think I should go home to Michigan for a few days. See my mom, maybe stop by UMich to see Luke. I think we need some time apart to cool down and you need to get your priorities straight.”

He had some words to say about that, but you weren’t listening. He was repeating that you’re his priority in various ways, and the more you packed the more desperate he got.

“So prove it Trevor!” you cried. “This isn’t a breakup. I am not breaking up with you. But maybe you’ll know how it feels to come home everyday without seeing the love of your life and realize you’ve been taking me for granted.”

Your voice got softer as you went on and you reached up with one hand to cup his cheek, “I love you, okay? Always. I just used two Fault in Our Stars terms so you know I mean it.” He laughed lightly at that and brought his hand up to where yours was to hold it.

“Okay,” he nodded. “I love you, too. I’ll see you later.”

It took you almost two days to reach UMich, but you thought having some “not really-but might as well be-little brother” time with Luke would do you some good. The Hughes family is how you and Trevor met, and they were more of your family thank your actual blood one.

‘Hello?’ Luke answered the phone.

“Lukey Moosey! Do you have plans tonight?”

‘No? Why, what’s up?’

“Your favorite person ever just booked a hotel right outside of campus and is stealing you for the night!”

You tried to say this with as much heart and excitement you could muster, but the youngest Hughes saw straight through you.

‘Something happened,’ he said, as more of a statement than a question. You sighed as your response. ‘Is it a “you’re wearing Quinn’s hoodie and we’re drinking” kind of something happened or a “disney movies and pout” kind of something happened?’

“I just drove two days to come home, what do you think?”

‘Don’t get tequila.’

“Jack scarred me too much for me to ever drink tequila again, don’t worry. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

You got a hotel for you and Luke to spend the night in because you didn’t want his teammates around when you just need some Luke time. Plus, you’d rather only be responsible for one teen underage drinking.

Luke nursed a beer while you drank a vodka margarita you made in the bathroom as you told him everything that has happened with you and Trevor.

Luke listened, and spoke as well, to help you sort out your priorities and issues with the situation, and did his little brother duties swimmingly.

You two sat up against the headboard of the hotel bed and put on a Spider-Man movie after you both caught up with everything non-Trevor related in your lives. You leaned your head against his shoulder and pulled your knees up to lay them near his chest.

“Thanks, Luke,” you said low.

He wrapped an arm around you, “any time, y/n/n.”

For the rest of your undisclosed amount of time in Michigan, you spent it at your parent’s house, with some time with your second set of parents mixed in.

The latter is where you were currently sitting on the couch watching the Pregame for the Ducks game. Yeah, you were in a fight with Trevor, but you were still going to root for him.

They had the lead in the middle of second period at 2-0. The other team was becoming more defensive in their playing, as well as more aggressive. And your boyfriend had a tendency to be on the other side of someone’s aggression.

There was a fight. Gloves dropped, punches thrown, blood on faces. And Trevor was not getting as many hits in as the other player.

Fights happen. This isn’t the first Trevor has been in and it certainly won’t be the last. But this one was different. This one was worse. This one was the most violent brawl you’ve ever seen in a hockey game.

Their fight moved down the ice closer to the goal. The other played punched Trevor in the face so hard that he flew back, slammed his head on the goal post, and crumbled to the ground, bending his ankle in an unnatural way.

You suddenly felt extremely hot. Your body felt as if it were burning, your brain was threatening to drop down through your throat and bring you to the ground with it. You stood up when the fight got bad, and your legs gave out when they said he was unconscious.

“Oh my god,” Ellen gasped. You didn’t know if it was in reference to you or Trevor.

“He- he’s…”

Ellen put her arm around you and hushed you softly, “They’ll take good care of him, it’ll be alright.”

You shook your head, “No. No, I should be there. I have to go.”

“Y/N, you’re not in the right mind to drive right now,” Ellen told you.

“I’m not driving. I’m taking the next flight out and I’ll pick up my car from the airport later, I need to be there now.”

Jim and Ellen insisted on driving you to the airport and keeping your car safe at their house. You took the last seat on the flight to Anaheim that took off in the next three hours, and that’s when you finally called Jamie. You got worried when he picked up and said nothing.

“Is it bad?” you whimpered.

‘It’s not great, but it could be worse,’ Jamie answered honestly.

“I have a flight in three hours. I don’t know how I’ll get to you at 3am, but I’m coming.”

‘I’ll see if Mason can pick you up.’

Your flight was agonizingly long, but the wait to board was even worse. Anxiety still flooded your body despite how much anxiety medication you took. Nothing would cure it until you saw Trevor.

Jamie texted you that they were back home from the hospital, because it was bad enough to warrant a trip instead of the PT’s taking care of it, so that was where the very tired Mason dropped you off.

You quickly thanked him and ran out with your suitcase clattering behind you. You carefully unlocked the door and found Jamie dozing off on the couch still fully dressed. You set your suitcase by the door and crept over to the sleeping boy.

“Jamie,” you whispered as you gently rocked him awake.

He inhaled a deep and slow breath when he stirred and blinked tiredly at you, “Hey.”

“Hey,” you breathed out a laugh. “What’s the damage?”

“Minor concussion, bruised rib, and a torn ligament in his ankle.”

You winced, “So not great.”

“No, not even close,” he responded, stretching out the ‘o’ sound in no.

You sat in silence for a moment. You knew Trevor was likely asleep, and he needed rest so you weren’t about to go wake him up.

“He asked about you,” Jamie said, looking down at the floor. “The concussion was causing some slight amnesia, and he didn’t remember that you left. I just kept telling him it was hard to get ahold of you and that you were coming. I don’t know what I would’ve done if the memory didn’t come back and you weren’t here.”

You pursed your lips together to refrain from making a choked cry.

“He’s been a mess, y/n. The first thing he did was check for Quinn’s sweatshirt, and he broke down when he saw that you took it.”

“Me leaving didn’t give him enough of a clue that it was serious?”

“I think it just… solidified it, you know? You bring it out when things are bad for you; when you just need a big brother. I think he would’ve gone after you if you went to Vancouver,” he joked.

You stayed silent. You weren’t going to apologize for sometimes needing your family.

“I shouldn’t have left,” was what you got out.

“Yes you should have. I was spending more time with you than he was. You had every right.”

That’s when you broke down in tears. No— tears isn’t the right term, these were wracked sobs coming out of you. Jamie wrapped you in his arms and shushed you as he rubbed your back.

“I need to wake him up for pain meds, and I’m sure he’ll be a lot more cooperative if you do it,” Jamie offered.

“Will you come with me?”

Jamie got up with you and placed a comforting hand on your back as you trekked down the hall to your and Trevor’s room. You carefully sat down on the edge of the bed next to his chest and rubbed your hand up and down his back to wake him up.

“Z,” you singsonged. “Z baby I need you to wake up.”

Trevor grumbled into his pillow and tried to turn over, but was stopped by a sharp pain from his bruised rib. You winced at his cry and helped ease him down on his back against the pile of pillows supporting him.

“Y/N…?” Trevor asked sleepily.

You nodded and combed your fingers through his hair. His cheek was heavily bruised and he had a cut with a butterfly stitch across his eyebrow. For how much the other guy was hitting him, you were surprised his entire face wasn’t purple.

“It’s time for you to take some more pain meds,” you said low.

“You’re here,” he gapped. His eyes were wide, and you couldn’t help but think he looked like Bambi.

“Of course I’m here,” you smiled softly, still petting his hair.

“But you left. I wasn’t- I wasn’t expec… expecting…”

“Easy there, Zegras. Don’t need you having a brain aneurysm over me being in our bedroom,” you tried to laugh.

“You’re here.”

“And you need pain-“

“You’re-“

“Z, we will talk about this but I need you to give me a moment. You need to take your pain medication.”

Trevor must’ve seen the desperate pleading in your eyes through the soft lamp light because he immediately stopped talking. He bit his lip and nodded at you. He put his arms behind him and tried to prop himself up so that he could swallow the pills, but he cried out and collapsed back down. When you reached to help him, he pushed your arms back and slowly shook his head.

“I can do it myself,” he grunted.

“You’re hurt. Just let me help you,” you said.

You two locked eyes for a moment before he nodded again. You heard the door click close, a signal that Jamie had left. You put a hand between his back shoulder blades to slowly lift him up, and helped you push himself back to sit against the headboard with minimal wincing. He quickly took the water and pills you handed him and scooted himself back down a little to be be halfway sitting up instead.

You started to stroke his hair again and he closed his eyes, breathing synced with your fingers combing up and down through his hair. You were silently crying and praying to every god imaginable that you didn’t make a sound, but this was to no avail.

“Oh, hey no,” Trevor rushed out. He cupped your cheek with one hand and linked his fingers together with yours with the other.

“You didn’t get up,” you squeaked out. “You went down, and suddenly nothing made sense anymore. My ears were ringing, my head was spinning, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

“I’m okay,” he whispered, rubbing circles with his thumb across your cheek bone.

“My mind blacked out when they said you were unconscious. I was standing one second, and Ellen was putting a straw in my mouth to drink ice water the next. And I didn’t know anything until-“

Trevor pulled your face down to his level and slammed his lips onto yours to cut you off. When your lips parted, your foreheads were brought together, with Trevor whispering for you to breathe slow with him, thumb back to caressing your cheek.

“I wasn’t out for too long. Troy and Mason helped me off the ice, and Jimmy rushed over to the arena and rode with me to the hospital. Gibby drove Jimmy’s car to the hospital, and we took him home. Everything is okay,” he breathed out. His voice was soft, low, and steady— a wonderful combination to calm you down.

“I was so scared,” you whimpered.

“I know, it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Come here,” he motioned for you to lay down next to him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you said. 

“You can lay on my chest, it’s okay,” he assured. 

You crawled into bed next to him and rested your head on his chest. Your hand came up to lay where you could feel his steady heart and you closed your eyes. 

“I love you,” you told him. 

“I love you, too.”

And with a kiss to the top of your head, you were out.

[ilovechuuy4]

Can I request hcs and a small scenorio with fyodor and a rebellious daughter reader? Like always sneaks out, talks back, gets into fights and gets terrible grades?

Why try so hard, Malyshka? ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

୨୧ Dad!Fyodor x Platonic! Rebellious Daughter ୨୧

A/N: I’m so sorry I’m not sure how long this will take when it comes out since I’m not usually doing dad!characters with kids/teenagers, but I hope you like it since I worked pretty hard on this! I feel like this would have been so much easier if there was a bit more description on how you wanted this all to go in the end! But that’s all right hope you enjoy!

Headcanons ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

• Dad!Fyodor isn't the one of get mad for his kid acting rebellious

• Dad!Fyodor would talk to his kid about why and what is wrong and why they are acting this way

• Dad!Fyodor is calm and collective, he'll let his kid ramble about/to him all they want about what's wrong

• Dad!Fyodor isnt upset but he's disappointed

• Dad!Fyodor isn't the type to ground his kid for their grades but he would discipline

Scenario୨୧꙳ᕯ

It was a typical school day for you, walking through the halls of your school, nobody else there because you decided to skip once more. The halls empty as you make your way out the school entirely. You were aware that your grades were dropping drastically but it's not like your father was telling at you for it, that you knew of.

But once you step out the school premises, you receive a call, uh oh..your father. You hesitatly answer the call as the thick Russian voice of your father's fills your right ear. "I know you aren't at school, come home now." You felt your heart sink a bit, were you really in trouble now?

You decided to make your way home just incase you were actually in trouble. And once you arrive home, you're met with a disappointed Fyodor standing in front of the front door, arms crossed. "So you finally decided to come home, y/n?" His voice was thick with disappointment as he stared at you. "Well, uhm..yea." You didn't have much to say when he confronted you.

"We need to talk, I'm highly disappointed Y/N. I told you to get your grades up and yet you still choose to disobey me and continue with your rebellious acts?" His voice was sharp when he spoke, boy were you in trouble your father wasn't ever well, this disappointment in you. I mean yes you've snuck out and caused fights but when it came to your grades you assumed your father cared more.

"Well..I just..uhm well-" You couldn't put your thoughts into words yes you were being rebellious 'nd acting on impulse but there was a reason, right.? You sigh twiddling your thumbs as you think you a second. "Well, it's just some things in the classes are difficult and they are a bit none understandable." You mutter softly, that was an obvious lie and Fyodor knitted his eyebrows together.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N. You aren't a good lier and it shows." Fyodor states, uncrossing his arms and letting them drop to his hips. "Well I thought if I did rebellious things you'd spend more time with me!" You blurt out, well it was more than the truth. Yes, you thought having the "cool" act was well, cool. But it was sorta just stupid.

"Oh Malyshka, what do you mean.?" His voice changed from disappointed to concern. "Spend more time with you? Sweetheart you know how busy I am with work but if you and just asked I would find a day I'm off." His voice was soft now, more concern than disappointment now.

"Well it's just you're always busy so I can't have the chance to talk to you. So I kinda just thought you know." You said, rubbing the back of his neck. But then you feel your father's slender frame wrapping around you in a welcoming hug.

"Why try so hard Malyshka? It's not necessary I still love you the same okay? Just be you, please quit the rebellious acts though?" He hums softly, putting a soft kiss on your hair.

[icarusignite]

Hey,

Perhaps the second part could be about telling their parents that they want to marry each other and that the other women are told that he has chosen a Wife. Maybe Alicent and Otto has something against it. It would be cool to find out where all the letters went. Maybe Otto noticed how well his grandson and the reader understand each other and since he doesn't like Rhaenyra and her children, he ordered when the letters arrive in Oldtown to have them removed or something. Maybe the reader and Daeron could argue because she tells him that Alicent and Otto have always had something against her and her family but Daeron doesn't want to believe it because he loves his family. I just love drama. He could also says to her in anger that she and her brothers are illegitimate children, maybe he also says that in front of other people. But he wouldn't apologize at first and that makes her angry or something. But of course you can decide, it's just an idea.🫶🫶

I love your writing ❤️

Your reader ☺️

Like an old melody, my heart resumes | Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: So sorry this took a while. You asked for drama so here we are. I was listening to cinnamon girl while writing this so you can blame miss lana for the angst lol. Hope you enjoy <3

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Daeron x Fem! Reader | (angst, hurt/no-comfort)

When you and Daeron entered the main hall again, your fingers were entwined, and everyone could see the shift in your attitudes toward each other. It was evident by the smiles you kept sneaking each other.

"Are we going to tell them right now?" you mumbled nervously.

"Well, we have to so that these lovely ladies who have been gathered here don't hold out too much hope. After all, I am now a man spoken for," Daeron squeezed your hand, shooting you a wink.

"Yeah...but what if...,"

Daeron clicked his tongue, "No more what-ifs, my love. You're mine now, and I'm never letting you go."

A laugh burst out of you.

Approaching the grand table, Daeron's gaze sought out his father, King Viserys, who met his son's eyes with a curious smile.

"Father," Daeron inclined his head to show reverence.

"So my son, have any of the young ladies tonight captured your eye," King Viserys eyed your hand clasped in his son's.

Daeron took a deep breath, his voice filled with unwavering resolve, "My King, Lady Mother, I have chosen my bride, the one who has captured my heart."

Then he spoke your name, the syllables dancing upon his tongue, heavy with familiarity and tenderness. Your name was at home on his lips, in his heart.

The king's eyes twinkled with a mix of pride and affection as he sat up straighter, "Is that so?"

"Yes, sire."

King Viserys turned to you then, "And you, my dear, do you willingly accept this union?"

You turned slightly red, a fact that Daeron found adorable as he snuck a glance at you.

"Yes, Grandsire, I accept."

Queen Alicent, seated beside him, raised her eyebrows in surprise at the admission, but she smiled nonetheless, sharing a fond look with Rhaenyra at the thought of their children betrothed. However, Otto Hightowe'rs face immediately darkened at the news.

King Viserys, aware of the tension in the room, rose from his seat, his eyes fixed on the crowd.

"Lords and ladies, esteemed guests, I have joyous news to share! My son, Prince Daeron Targaryen, has chosen his bride, and I am delighted to announce their betrothal."

A collective murmur rippled through the crowd, curiosity and excitement filling the place. Then the hall erupted in a chorus of applause and congratulatory cheers, the sound echoing off the grand walls. Daeron exchanged a giddy smile with you, his eyes gleaming with happiness and relief, hand squeezing yours impossibly tighter. There was a bit of disappointed muttering from the various noble ladies who had hoped to ally themselves with the young Targaryen prince, but that didn't stop you from feeling safe within his hold.

King Viserys addressed the crowd once again, his voice carrying the weight of authority and affection, "Let it be known that Daeron Targaryen shall be united in marriage with my beloved granddaughter. May their union bring prosperity and happiness to our noble house."

Alicent, a radiant smile adorning her face, stood beside the king, nodding in approval. Rhaenyra, overcome with joy, moved to hug you tightly, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness. Then she turned her attention to your betrothed whom she embraced just as affectionately. Your father on the other hand surveyed everyone's expressions and when he saw Otto's menacing glare aimed toward you, his jaw tightened, his grip on his goblet growing tighter as his eyes followed your movements protectively.

The rest of the evening wore on uneventfully. Although disappointed at their failure at securing a betrothal for themselves, the nobles were still eager to offer up their congratulations and remain on the king's good side. Eventually, as the hour grew late and the revelry began to subside as everyone retired to their respective chambers. You bid Daeron a tender farewell, still reminiscing about the dance you had shared only a short while ago, your first as his betrothed.

When you finally made your way to your chambers, tucked beneath the covers of your bed, you traced your fingers along your lips, still tingling from the kiss you had shared with your beloved earlier. Thoughts of Daeron filled your mind, and you couldn't help but smile in the darkness, feeling a little giddy.

You woke up the next morning, heart fluttering with excitement, eager to see Daeron once more. Your steps were light as you made your way through the corridors of the Red Keep, mind filled with plans of walking to breakfast with your beloved, relishing every moment spent in his company.

As you neared the entrance to the corridor leading to Daeron's chambers, a hushed commotion caught your attention. Curiosity tugged, and you couldn't resist the temptation to investigate. You tiptoed closer, careful not to draw attention to yourself, and discovered a partially open door through which voices drifted.

Peering through the crack, your eyes widened as you saw Otto Hightower, his normally composed demeanour shattered, engaged in a heated argument with his nephew, Lord Ormund Hightower. Their voices clashed in a crescendo of anger and frustration.

"Did you not do as you were told!" he bellowed.

"I did exactly as you said, Uncle. You told me to ensure that Daeron never got a single letter from Rhaenyra's bastard and I did. Do not blame me for your failed plans," Ormund returned just as heatedly.

"I did what I thought was best for the family. Daeron was supposed to focus on his duties, not be distracted by the words of that whore's daughter, and now all my efforts have gone to waste."

"The fault is yours. You could not keep an eye on him when he was right in front of you. For all the years he resided with me, he believed she had forgotten him, abandoned him in his absence."

"By the gods, how did this happen? How are they betrothed if you did as I commanded? Everything is ruined now."

You flinched at his words, eyes welling with tears. You quietly retreated from the door, footsteps echoing through the corridor as you grappled with your conflicting emotions. The letters you had poured your heart and soul into had been intentionally intercepted and it broke your heart to think of how hurt Daeron must have been in thinking that you had abandoned him. You made your way to breakfast alone, forgoing your initial plans.

As the breakfast hall buzzed with the clatter of utensils and the hum of conversations, your normally vibrant presence seemed muted. Even Daeron couldn't help but notice the change in your demeanour. Your eyes, which sparkled with joy the night before, now seemed dull.

Concern etched his features as he took a seat beside you near the end when the room had mostly cleared. Leaning closer, he whispered softly, "Is everything alright? You seem distant, not at all like yourself this morning."

You forced a smile, gaze momentarily flickering to meet his concerned eyes, "It is nothing. Just a restless night, I suppose. My mind has been preoccupied."

"You know you can tell me what's bothering you right."

"Yes. I know."

"Then what's wrong?"

You swallowed nervously, "Perhaps we might go somewhere else to speak of this. Away from prying eyes?"

"Of course. Anything."

As you both made your way to a more secluded corner of the space, your mind raced to figure out how you would tell him what you had found out earlier that morning. You wondered if you should even tell him but it was important that he knew the truth. That he knew that you would never have abandoned him willingly.

"So," Daeron raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his smile encouraging. "What's on your mind love?"

You took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact, and he stepped closer, finger brushing against your chin to tilt it up, meeting your gaze with unwavering intensity.

"I-uhm-there's something I need to tell you, about-uhm..."

"Go on."

"Right, yeah. So remember those letters I sent you, all those years you were in Oldtown?"

Daeron's expression shifted from concern to confusion, "Is this about the letters again? I am sorry for not responding to them, but I swear I never received them."

"Yeah, I know. I know you didn't receive them. That's what this is...I need to tell you something about your family?"

"My family? What about them?"

"The King's Hand, and Lord Ormund too."

"What do they have to do with the letters?"

"Lord Ormund intentionally kept them from you. He made sure that word from me never reached you. And it was under the orders of your grandfather."

Daeron's brows furrowed in disbelief, "You can't be serious. They would never conspire against us like that, against me. They love me. Lord Ormund is like a father to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes, frustration mingling with your determination to speak the truth now that it was out.

"I know it's hard to believe, but I swear I overheard them arguing this morning. They admitted to intercepting my letters to you, leaving you to believe I had forgotten about you."

"That's not possible. They wouldn't do that to me."

"But-but...I heard them with my own ears."

Daeron pulled away from you, his warmth leaving your side as he paced the room, running his hands through his hair in aggravation, "Well, you must be mistaken then."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"I-no...I don't know. All I know is that you must be mistaken. You have to be."

"Daeron, I'm not lying! I heard it with my own ears," the words stuck in your throat as you struggled to choke them out.

"Enough!" he thundered, his voice echoing. "I will not stand for any more slander against my family."

You flinched at the harshness of his tone and your lower lip trembled with the effort to keep the tears at bay, "I thought you trusted me."

"Not when you make up such preposterous lies and insult my family's honour!"

"There is no honour in keeping things from those you love. And I am not lying!"

"I will not listen to these baseless accusations, not from the likes of you!"

"And what's that supposed to mean? The likes of me?"

Daeron's expression hardened, his face reddening and his voice laced with frustration, "A bastard like you! What would you know about honour? What would anybody in your family know about honour, whores and bastards the lot of you!"

His words hung heavy in the air, silence enveloping the both of you as you simply stared at each other. The space the two of you occupied was not as concealed as you had first believed and several servants who were milling about stopped short at his declaration. The tears would not stay back, and now they ran freely down your face. Daeron winced at the sight of them, instinctively stepping forward as if wanting to comfort you. He raised his hands and then clenched them into fists before forcing them back to his side. You wrapped your arms around yourself as if to hold yourself together, to stop your heart from falling to pieces inside your chest.

"How could you...?"

"Listen-I..."

"No. No, I have heard enough," you gave him a tight smile. "I am glad you were honest enough to tell me what you really thought of me and my family. I appreciate it."

"That's not what I-"

"I am not finished...If that is how you really feel, perhaps I am not the person you should be marrying."

"What are you saying?" Daeron's voice was barely above a whisper.

"I am saying that you would not want me to taint your noble, honourable family's bloodline with my bastard-whore blood, now would you?" you let out a breathy chuckle. "Surely some of the ladies from last night's feast are still here, perhaps you might go visit your father and tell him that you would like to be betrothed to one of them instead."

You scrubbed your own tears off your face aggressively, taking in a deep breath. Daeron stepped toward you once more and this time you let him.

"Why would you say that?"

"And why would you say what you just did? Perhaps we both decided to let the truth of how we feel out this morning," you shrugged.

"That's not-" he sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are the one who started it. You are the one who came in here with your stupid petty arguments and accusations. I get it, you're upset that I didn't reply to your letters but blaming Lord Ormund for intercepting them is low, even for you."

"That's what you think this is about? That I'm upset with you for not responding so I'm making up lies to hurt you. Daeron, the last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt you, especially when I knew that you never could have gotten my letters. I just wanted to tell you so you didn't think I had abandoned you!" your voice came out broken and jagged. 

"It still doesn't excuse the fact that you're blaming my family for something they didn't do!"

"I just-"

"Gods, I wish that you hadn't written to me. Maybe it would've been better if you really had abandoned all thoughts of me. I would have been better off without you and your lies!"

Daeron watched in horror as the words tumbled from his mouth. It was like watching himself in the third person. The person who was saying all these hurtful things to you, the one who was responsible for the startled hurt in your eyes, was a foreigner to him. His mind screamed at him to shut up, to stop speaking the awful things that kept falling from his lips as your expression grew more fragile. You had just told him that perhaps he should marry someone else and he was still insulting you instead of trying to make it better. 

Why would I wish to be married to someone else? I am already betrothed to you. I don't want anyone else. I am sorry. Gods, I am so sorry. It just slipped out, and I-that is no excuse. I know it is no excuse but I am truly so sorry. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it.

Those were the words that rattled through his brain, the words he really wanted to say but the demon of cruelty had fully possessed him now and it was too late to halt its rampage or salvage the wreckage it had caused. To your credit, you let him finish his spiel and then watched him for a few more moments as he stood silently, waiting for your response, chest heaving with emotion.

"Say something already," he snapped.

Or maybe to you, it felt like a snap, because in his mind, he was still pleading with you. 

You slapped him. His hand flew up to cradle his injured cheek, looking at you with tears in his eyes. There was something satisfying about that. About the way his cheek reddened and you swore you could see his heart breaking in the forlorn way he looked at you. Yes, it was satisfying indeed, after he had fully trodden on your heart moments ago with his heel.

"You called my mother a whore. You. Called. Me. A. Bastard. You called my siblings bastards," you punctuated each word with a stab to his chest with your finger and he flinched every time. "Maybe I should never have written to you after all."

"What?"

"You heard me. Perhaps you truly are better off without me and I without you. Perhaps we are not meant for a life together."

Daeron's lips turned downward and he nodded stiffly, "If that is how you really feel."

"It is clearly how you feel."

Something in his eyes screamed out an apology, something that you recognized because your next words addressed his unspoken apology and felt like they would crack his heart open and carve the marrow from his bones. 

"I won't forgive you," you stated resolutely. "I will never forgive you. I fucking hate you and I never want to see you again."

Filled with equal parts fury and grief, you turned away, tears silently tracing a path down your cheeks. Several nobles gawked at you as you sped past them, blinking away your anguish. You knew the two of you had certainly made a scene and news travelled fast in the Red Keep. It would not be long before everyone will have heard of this spectacle and your broken betrothal would be the most talked of scandal for a long time to come. 

You heard Daeron call out your name after you once more as your steps increased their pace, and with an aching heart you realized, your name no longer had a home on his lips. 

[theteasetwrites]

The Dixon Problem

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 1 (The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning series) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: swearing, mild violence ❧ Word Count: 5k

❧ Summary: Not everyone is happy with the Dixons’ presence in the camp, especially Shane. When things go haywire, the only solution is a compromise, and to let Daryl know you care.

❧ A/N: I realize I’m posting this after a weird little argument over the ethics of zooming in on a man’s crotch but here we are. This is a fanfiction blog, believe it or not. Anyway, here’s another fic set in the same universe as The Beginning (I really like doing these ok), and this one takes place between Chapter 4 and Chapter 5. I really wanted to do some oneshots that would’ve happened before they got together because idk it just seems to cool to read about them before they kissed at the CDC and sort of build up to that. I find it fun to hint at their burgeoning attraction to one another, and how they’re both kind of in denial about their little crushes lol. We all know it was love at first sight. Also I loved writing Daryl fighting with Shane it was so fun. Daryl should’ve punched Shane in the show don’t @ me.

A deep huff escaped your lips as the back of your hand wiped the dripping sweat from your brow. The sun was a few hours from setting, but Georgia summers were unforgiving, and even a setting sun would prove to be dangerous if you didn’t hydrate.

Taking a sip of water from the crinkly plastic bottle, you watched Lori skillfully sew up the rips in one of Shane’s shirts. It was a skill you had neglected, but at one point, you were pretty good with a machine. Hand sewing was something else entirely.

“You’re so good at that,” you said. “How’d you learn?”

Lori smiled as she looked at you, staring in awe. “My mom sewed, my granny sewed, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my great granny sewed, too.”

“That’s sweet… Maybe you could teach me sometime?”

“Sure, but I thought you were trying to get Mr. Crossbow to teach you how to hunt?” She spoke with a crooked smile, on the verge of laughing. You failed to see what was so funny, frankly.

But mostly, you were embarrassed. The warm blush on your cheeks and the butterflies doing somersaults in your belly betrayed you, though you just pretended none of it was there.

“Well, he, uh, said I should learn how to fight first. He said he’d teach me that, though.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm… Why are you laughing?”

Lori lowered her head until her hair covered her face, but you heard a few snorts and giggles from beneath the dark curtain.

“You’re so cute,” she said. “That’s all.”

“Cute? Why am I cute?”

“You just are…” She leaned closer to speak in a quiet voice. “I bet Daryl thinks you’re really cute.”

You scoffed, trying to laugh it off as you awkwardly nudged her shoulder with yours. “Stop. That’s not funny. Not true, either. I think he finds me annoying.”

“Oh, really?” she asked. “What about the little rock he cracked open for you? That doesn’t sound like the actions of a man who’s annoyed.”

That “little rock” was now your prized possession. You had one half, and you’d let Daryl keep the other. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to you. That rock was a geode, something your father would’ve added to his extensive collection. Maybe you were thinking too much into it, and maybe it was cliché, but you liked to think that it represented the last beautiful thing in the world. You kept it by your cot, on full display so it was the first thing you saw each morning. Sometimes, the translucent purple shards would catch the new light that streamed through your tent in just the most perfect way.

“He was just being nice,” you said. “Daryl’s… really nice. I mean, he’s a little… grumpy, but he’s got a good heart. I can tell. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t think so.”

Before Lori could respond with another teasing quip, you both flinched at the sound of Daryl, the man you were just talking, and thinking a little too deeply, about. His voice was raised, one decibel away from being a yell. It sounded like it was coming from the center of camp, near Dale’s RV, so you both jogged over, anxious to see whatever was causing Daryl to yell a series of curse words and a few other words you couldn’t yet make out.

“Stupid cop!” you heard, now getting closer. “Who the hell do ya think you are?! This ain’t Miami Vice.”

You stumbled upon Daryl, with his chest puffed up and his hands moving vigorously along with his hostile words, in some kind of argument with Shane, who only shook his head with his hands on his waist as the bowman hurled insults his way.

“Listen, Dixon,” replied Shane, who was visibly also beginning to lose his temper, “we gotta maintain some order ‘round here. Now, I don’t give a shit ‘bout what you and your white trash redneck brother used to get up to in bumfuck nowhere, but there’s women and kids here, and I don’t want this shit ‘round ‘em.”

Oh, noble Shane, you thought to yourself, but then again, you still had no idea what the men were arguing about, so maybe he had a point. Still, you did take some issue to being compared to a child, but you weren’t about to jump in the middle of a fight between two burly, hotheaded men for the sake of feminism.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?! It ain’t nothin’, Merle goes off into the woods to do it! Ain’t no women or children gonna get hurt. You’re just as stupid as you look, Columbo.”

“It ain’t them seein’ the drugs I’m worried about,” Shane replied, getting closer to Daryl until their chests were nearly touching. “It’s you and your ugly ass brother.”

Drugs? You knew Merle had a stash of drugs, including crystal meth, and most others figured it based on, well, everything about him, but you didn’t think Shane would pick a fight with Daryl over it. Maybe Merle himself, but not Daryl. Merle wasn’t even there that day, having taken his turn to go hunting, though he never brought back nearly as much as his brother. You weren’t sure if it was because Merle wasn’t a very good hunter, or because he just didn’t care enough to bring back food for your group, but either way, it was clear which brother was better.

“Man, that’s bullshit,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at Shane. “You wanna see a threat then look in the mirror. There’ll be a big arrogant prick starin’ back at ya.” Daryl punctuated his sentence by shoving the other man backwards, but before Daryl could strut away as he planned, Shane shoved him back.

“Watch yourself,” Daryl warned, voice low and raspy. “I don’t want your pig blood on my hands.”

He tried to brush past Shane, but the man was fuming. He shoved Daryl back once more, knocking him to the ground.

A puff of dirt swallowed his body as you let out a small gasp of disbelief. No one in the group had gotten physical with anyone like this yet. Maybe it was only a matter of time before it happened. After all, a group of several strangers under incredible physical and mental stress in the middle of the end of the world was a recipe for disaster, but you’d hoped it wouldn’t happen so soon.

All you could register was the sound of Daryl’s grunting before he sprung back up to sock Shane across the face, disorienting him. He soon struck back, but Daryl ducked and delivered a blow to Shane’s stomach.

Shane had managed to deliver a few blows of his own, but at this point, all you could focus on was thinking of a way to break them up without getting hurt yourself.

“H-hey!” you shouted out, along with Lori and several other women who’d gathered around, yelling to the men to stop. “Stop it!”

Dale was frantically climbing down the ladder of the RV, then greeted the scene with wide eyes. “Hey, hey! Break it up!” He managed to get his arms between the two of them, but he could only keep Shane back. Daryl even tried to get around Dale so he could deliver one last blow to Shane’s face, but T-Dog came up behind and pinned the enraged man’s arms back.

“Get offa me!” he yelled to T-Dog, then turned his attention back to Shane. “I’m gonna beat your ass, you hear me, bacon bits?!”

Dale stood between them, holding his hands out to keep them both at bay. Their chests swelled with heavy, panting breaths as their faces molded into their own unique scowls. Shane’s was terrifying, much more than Daryl’s. His dark brown eyes didn’t need to narrow at all, they were just as terrifying in their wideness. His mouth wasn’t agape, it was sealed shut as the breaths pumped out of his flared nostrils. He stood completely still, like a ticking time bomb. You’d never been more terrified of the man.

Daryl paced back and forth for a few feet on each side of him, his face much more natural looking, but still enraged. At least you could make some sense of Daryl in his anger. He didn’t send a shiver down your spine like Shane did. Well, and maybe you were a little partial to Daryl now, since he’d shown you kindness. In any case, the awkward silence that permeated the stiff, humid air was excruciating.

“Just calm down,” panted Dale, arms still outstretched between them. “What the hell is going on here?”

Shane huffed before speaking. “I was just tryin’ to have a civil conversation about the drug use goin’ on in this camp.”

“Drug use?” questioned Lori. “No, no way. No drugs, not around the kids. That’s the last thing we need right now.”

Daryl turned to look at Lori, not with anger, but confusion. He seemed troubled, unable to reconcile something in his head. His eyes squinted shut as he wiped his nose, which had just begun to bleed from the punch. He spat a glob of pinkish saliva onto the dirt ground, then turned back to face Shane.

“Talk to Merle,” was all he said. His voice was quieter now, almost timid, but still with an air of defensiveness.

He turned back again, in the direction of his tent. You met his glance for a moment, at which point he seemed to stop in his tracks. His foot backstepped, flashes of blue still on you until they averted to the ground. When he regained his focus, he moved quicker, more determined. Still, his confidence seemed drained after he looked your way, but all you could pay attention to now was Shane, who was walking directly towards you, huffing and puffing.

“What the hell were you thinkin’, bringin’ those meth heads here, huh? You stupid or somethin’? I thought you were some kinda… librarian.” He ended his sentence with a sarcastic chuckle.

Before you could respond, Lori spoke up, and thank God she did. You were still petrified by Shane’s aggression, and Lori knew him from before the fall. Maybe he’d actually listen to her.

“Stop it, Shane,” she scolded in an almost motherly tone. Fitting, since the argument between him and Daryl seemed more like that of children than two grown men in their thirties. “It’s done. No point in arguing about it.”

For your part, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, then spoke to Shane with as much bravado as you could muster. “It’s because of Daryl that we’re not starving to death,” you said.

Dale stepped forward, hand outstretched slightly to gesture towards you. “That’s a good point, but what about the drugs?”

You shook your head profusely. “I don’t know anything about any drugs.” That wasn’t true, you knew Merle was getting high, and that he was a dealer, but that honestly didn’t matter to you much at this point. As far as you were concerned, everything that had ever separated the human race from each other was out the window. Drug addicts were no different from Mormons now. Granted, Merle could be unpredictable, and you hated him, frankly, but Daryl and Merle seemed like a package deal, so you’d have to deal with both of them if your group was to reap the benefits of having a skilled hunter.

Plus, you might’ve fostered a bit of admiration for him. Friendly admiration, of course.

“Well, I just ain’t havin’ no crystal meth in this camp,” replied Shane. “And I’m about this close to killin’ your buddy, so’s as far as I’m concerned, this is your problem to solve if you wanna keep them here.”

Diplomacy wasn’t your strong suit, but if it kept Shane from kicking out the Dixon’s, you’d try your best to find some common ground.

“Compromise,” Dale said with a nod. “(Y/N), you should talk to Daryl, ask him to talk some sense into Merle when he gets back to camp. We give them shelter, they get rid of the drugs.”

It sounded more like an ultimatum than a compromise, but you were perhaps the only person who’d had any meaningful contact with the slightly more tolerable brother, so you put aside your reservations to head to the Dixons’ camp, several yards away from the rest of the group.

He was on one knee as he chopped the head off a squirrel on the sawed log he was using as a butcher block. The sound of the axe slicing through the flesh and digging into the wood was so powerful that you flinched, alerting the hunter to your presence.

Though he didn’t look your way. He simply set aside the axe and continued skinning the creature as if you weren’t there.

“You want a piece of me, too, woman?” he asked. “Whatever you gotta say, I ain’t in the mood.”

You bit your lip as you stood still, thinking of what to say. Daryl was tricky, you knew that. Sometimes he was nice to you, and sometimes he wanted nothing to do with you. No one in the camp knew how to deal with him, really. You only knew a little because you somehow found yourself trying to ingratiate yourself with him, but why? You still weren’t exactly sure.

“May I sit down?” you blurted out, thinking that might be the first step to talking to him.

He looked up at you then, with a suspicious glare.

“Why?”

Just as you were still trying to get used to talking to him, he was still trying to get used to your desire to talk to him in the first place. Why would a woman like you want anything to do with a man like him, anyway? Surely you had an ulterior motive, though he couldn’t deny there was something genuinely kind and soft about your face. Maybe even, dare he say, pretty? Not just physically, though he was painfully aware of that, but through and through, you were quite lovely. Well, that’s how it seemed, anyway.

Merle always said that women couldn’t be trusted, that if they weren’t childlike and dumb, they were manipulative and cunning. Nothing else, nothing in between. Of course, Daryl had a hard time believing that. People weren’t that simple, and Merle’s authority on the topic of women was questionable at best. Still, old habits die hard, and maybe he was just a little skeptical of your intentions. After all, no woman or man had ever shown this much interest in talking to him.

Daryl was, for all intents and purposes, a loser. He still felt like one, though he had to admit, when you brought him to your camp, insisting that your group needed him, he did feel a small sense of real, genuine pride, for the first time in his life. Maybe he had something to offer, something good he could do. Maybe you really wanted him there, and he wasn’t just a loser with a bad temper and a meth head brother.

His deeply ingrained insecurity, though, told him otherwise, and that you were only kind to him because of what he could offer your group, not because you actually appreciated him. But then again, the rest of the group had all but ignored him since he arrived, and you were the one who’d spoken more than five words to him at a time. That had to mean something, right?

“I want to talk to you,” you said simply. “So, can I?”

He chewed his lip as he looked you up and down, as if inspecting you. Wordlessly, he nodded, then lowered his head again to focus on the mutilated squirrel.

As you cleared your throat, you sat yourself on a dinky camping chair across from the fire pit. Both of you were silent for a little while, with only the sounds of flesh tearing from the muscle of the little furry critters Daryl was skinning. You watched with furrowed brows, though at a certain point, you had to stop looking, otherwise you’d get a little woozy, so you lifted your gaze to the top of Daryl’s head, covered in short, choppy brown hair.

Surprisingly, just before you were about to say something, Daryl spoke first. “I ain’t no meth head,” he said abruptly. “I don’t touch that shit.” Not anymore, he thought, but something stopped him. Could it be… embarrassment? Maybe shame. All he knew was there was a part of him that cared what you thought, for some odd reason. He’d trained himself not to give a damn about anything, though it was in his nature to. Why was your presence bringing out his sensitivity? It was a blessing and a curse. It hurts to care, he’d always thought. Nothing good could come of it. He cared once, before he knew how cruel people could be.

“I never said you did.”

“S’what you all think,” he replied. “Y’all think I’m some kinda… stupid redneck bastard.” Wouldn’t be wrong, a voice inside him retorted.

“I don’t think that.”

He finally raised his eyes again, glowering at you. “You will.”

It shouldn’t have hurt you, but it did, just a little bit. “I bet you I won’t.”

He shook his head and stood up to retrieve the red rag that was often dangling from his back pocket. Wiping his hands, he nodded towards you. “What’d ya really come over ‘ere for? They send ya over to kick me out?”

You shook your head immediately. “No, no. Not at all. Just… You need to tell Merle to quit with the drugs.”

Daryl scoffed, almost a laugh. “Askin’ Merle to give up crystal’s like askin’ him to cut off his own hand. ‘Sides, ya don’t think I’ve tried? Ain’t no use in it. Might as well jus’ kick us to the curb ‘cause it ain’t gonna happen.”

His apathy frustrated you, and you let out an exasperated, now quite irritated, puff of air. “So you’d rather live out in the woods by yourselves than in a group, with people who will look out for you?”

“None of these people will look out for me,” he scoffed.

“Well, I would.”

He looked your way again, this time not suspicious, but confused. “Why’d ya bring me and Merle here in the first place? All ya got to show for it is bein’ yelled at and bossed around by that asshole Shane.” He spat the man’s name out in obvious distaste.

“I told you,” you said, “I thought you would be able to help us… And you saved me. I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for you.”

He lowered his head again, busying himself by cleaning between his fingers with the rag in the hopes of distracting you from the obvious blush on his cheeks. When he didn’t respond, you realized you hadn’t asked him a similar question.

“Why’d you save me, anyway?” you asked, your voice a little more quiet, as if afraid of him even hearing it.

After all, you were a complete stranger, why should he have helped you? What you knew from human nature was that people often only helped others if they knew there was something in it for them. True altruism was hard to come by, and often not evolutionarily beneficial. Those who helped others and put themselves in danger often died out before their lineage could carry on. Well, that was your vague memories of anthropology class resurfacing, but it still applied.

Indeed, you yourself hadn’t been acting out of true altruism. You had decided to bring Merle and Daryl into the fold because they were hunters, and they could benefit your group by providing your people sustenance. But Daryl’s motivations were less clear.

He swallowed hard as thought for a moment, himself now forced with the reality of facing that question. Why did he help you?

For the next several moments, he transported himself to that day just a month ago, when he was trudging around in the woods outside Atlanta, listening to Merle ramble on about some drunken memory, a relic of his “glory days” that he seemed unable to forget about. They had no destination, no idea where they were going. They’d tried the refugee center in the city, but that had been overrun about as soon as it was set up. Merle was quite content to rough it, and so was Daryl, so long as there weren’t flesh-eating monsters roaming around.

When he heard the rather faint sound of a woman screaming, somewhere ahead in the maze of aspen trees dotting the humid forest, something in him switched, and though he remembered the muffled sound of Merle’s protesting, all he could hear at the time was the scream getting closer and closer.

Soon he was in a small clearing, setting sight on a decrepit creature. Below it were two squirming legs, belonging to the screaming woman who was just inches away from becoming something’s lunch.

Without hesitation, he lifted his bow to shoot, snagging the creature in the head until it fell less than gracefully onto your chest. Pushing the body off, you faced him, mouth panting and eyes hazy with tears.

He tried to think of what he thought then, but it was difficult to put himself in that position again. He only remembered your face, how scared you were. You seemed so fragile, and yet somehow brave enough to look him in the eye. Most of all, you were peculiar to him, different from anyone or anything he’d seen before. Of course, there was nothing particularly strange looking about you, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. You were just… special, with a calming aura of warmth around you, something he was instinctively drawn to for whatever reason.

So, how was he supposed to explain that? You seemed special, important, warm… Creepy. He knew that would’ve sounded creepy. He was already embarrassed from Shane’s display earlier, and his stomach stung to think of you seeing that cop strike him across the face, to appear weak. Once again, he wondered why he cared in the first place.

He finally settled for a somewhat satisfactory explanation. “S’just what people do.”

Indeed, he would’ve done it for anyone. That wasn’t the issue Daryl struggled with, he knew right from wrong, for the most part. He struggled with understanding why you looked at him the way you did, and why he found himself wanting to keep you safe even after the creature attacking you was long dead.

At least you seemed happy with that answer, as one corner of your lips upturned into a small smile. “Well, I am sure some people wouldn’t have done anything. I’m really grateful… And I really don’t want you to go. Merle… I will put up with him if it means you stay here, but if you could please talk to him, try to get him to at least hide the drugs better and maybe go further away from camp to do it, I’d be even more grateful.”

Though he had no idea how he was going to get Merle to agree to changing anything about himself, he couldn’t deny that you were convincing. Something about your wide, almost pleading eyes. Somehow, making you happy seemed to make him happy, too.

“I’ll try,” he said. “But I ain’t promisin’ anything. Merle don’t care ‘bout what I got to say.”

“Well, he should,” you said as you stood to your feet. “He’s your brother… I have a brother, too. We used to talk all the time, though we sort of lost touch before all this.” You gestured around vaguely, ending your sentence with a small nervous chuckle.

Daryl almost didn’t speak, didn’t want to ask what he was thinking, but the look on your face as your lips began to droop and your eyes became vague made him wonder if maybe you needed to talk about it.

“Where is he?” he asked simply, though he immediately began to regret it when he noticed you shifting awkwardly where you stood. “I mean… I, uh… Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you replied with a shake of your head. “No, it’s fine. He’s, well… I don’t know where he is. Last time we talked he was in Atlanta. Actually, that’s why I was headed there when it happened.”

“It’s okay,” you replied with a shake of your head. “No, it’s fine. He’s, well… I don’t know where he is. Last time we talked he was in Atlanta. Actually, that’s why I was headed there when it happened.”

It seemed to be a universally agreed upon signifier. The fall, the turn, the apocalypse, the plague… Everyone called it something different, but what it all came down to was The End, or The Beginning, depending on who you asked.

“Sorry,” was all he could reply, though he found himself going further, speaking more than he normally would’ve. “Hope he’s all right.”

That meant more to you than anything anyone had ever said to you since the world turned. You hadn’t told anyone about your brother, and you weren’t sure why you decided to tell Daryl, but it felt right. In a world where everything was suddenly wrong, lots of things still felt right, all of which had to do with him. Strange.

“Thank you. I do too. He means a lot to me… I’m sure your brother means a lot to you, too, so I understand why you care so much about him. He’s lucky to have you as a brother.”

If Daryl wasn’t so strangely calmed by your presence in this moment, he might’ve protested to the assertion that Merle meant a lot to him, but he supposed he really did, whether or not Daryl liked it.

As he shifted his shoulders, he raised his hand to scratch his neck, chewing the inside of his bottom lip all the while. The unique little nervous mannerisms he had were already becoming part of your ever-growing encyclopedia of quirks Daryl displayed, and you had to say you found that quite endearing. Indeed, you truly felt that Daryl could become a friend. You wanted him to be a friend.

It reminded you that Daryl spent almost all of his time alone. Whenever Merle was gone or at the edge of camp getting up to his illicit activities, Daryl was by himself. You figured he had to get lonely, and surely the sole company of a man like Merle would eventually drive him insane, even if he was his brother.

“Daryl?” you asked, moving closer as you tried to telepathically direct his gaze up at you.

He did, and a flash of silvery blue eyes that caught little sparkles of light from the sun looked up at you. His eyes were quite deep set and narrow, making them seem at first glance to be cold and uninviting, but that wasn’t really the case at all. Now that you saw them in full view, there was mystery there, something waiting to be revealed. You had a feeling whatever it was, it was something lovely. Your curiosity made you eager to get to the bottom of it.

“Yeah?”

Even the strange softness of his often rough, gravelly voice struck you. As he licked his chapped lips, you found yourself trailing your eyes to his light stubble, sparse on his cheeks but more concentrated around his lips, which weren’t particularly full, but beautifully sculpted as if by delicate, intentional little hands. You found his face much more tolerable than his brother’s. Handsome, even. Perhaps not an A-list Hollywood movie star (certainly no one so clean-cut as Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt, both of whom you had at one point hung posters of on your closet door in the mid-nineties) but he had been blessed with good proportions and a pleasant visage that you only dwelled on for a moment until your subconsciousness took the image into its darkest recesses. The last thing you needed to do today was to admire a man’s physical appearance, though it did tempt you for just a few seconds. Maybe a few more.

“You should really join us for dinner tonight,” you said. “You know, around the fire… Dale’s going to make something special. I have no idea what, he says it’s a surprise.”

When his breath seemed to hitch and his muscles flexed in seemingly anxious response, you quickly tried to explain yourself. “I mean, I know it’s awkward, with the Shane thing… but Shane has watch during dinner tonight. Maybe you can just… talk to me, and Dale, Andrea, Amy, Glenn, Jacqui… We all sort of congregate, talk a little bit. I’m sure they’d like to get to know you more.”

He found himself wondering how to respond, how to tell you that he hated talking, especially to people he hardly knew. Then again, he liked talking to you. That was clear to him.

“Maybe… I dunno.”

Though you didn’t want to pressure him, it was hard not to try to convince him. You were shy sometimes, too, but the older you got, the more you realized that you needed people, and that couldn’t be more evident than right now, when people were hard to come by.

“All we have is each other,” you said. “You told me that the world’s never gonna be like how it was, and you’re right. We should never take people for granted anymore.”

He’d never wrap his head around the way you spoke sometimes, how you could be so articulate and intelligent, and at other times, so high-strung or bubbly or aloof… You were about as hard to read to him as he was to you.

“I’ll try,” was all he replied.

“That’s all that matters.”

When he briefly lurked around the fire that night, exchanging a few brief words with Dale and Andrea (and you, of course), you felt like you’d gotten somewhere further with the temperamental hunter.

He didn’t stay for long, and hardly ate any of Dale’s “mushroom mash,” but it was something, and though the day started with a fight between Shane and Daryl, it ended with the latter feeling just a little more welcome.

Most of all, you had no regrets about bringing Daryl Dixon to your camp. You had a feeling it was the right thing to do.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Masterlist

[coffeexafterxmidnight]

welcome home - what went bump in the night

cw: puppet gore, whump, hurt/comfort, ask to tag

You sat, drifting off at your kitchen table, when something banged on your door. 

It'd been an awfully quiet morning in Home. You'd opened the windows, letting in a cool breeze scented with flowers trace over your cheeks. You sat with your hands around your mug of something nice and hot, your eyes falling closed…

Bang, bang, bang.

You almost fell out of your chair. Your gaze jerked in the direction of your front door. 

Bang, bang, bang.

Eddie called your name from outside. Sally did, too.

Something about their tones chilled your blood.

When you threw open the door, you found, as you'd heard, Eddie and Sally. Eddie gripped his hat in both hands, eyes wider than you'd ever seen. Sally shook from head to toe, her fists clenched and held close to her chest.

"What happened?" You asked.

They spoke at the same time, out of sync.

"It's Wally!"

Your stomach dropped. You grabbed your shoes.

"Take me to him!"

They raced ahead of you, faster than you'd ever seen them run. You almost tripped over your own feet trying to keep up. You were the only human in Home, and definitely not anything like an authority figure in your eyes. But the residents came to you when they needed help.

Wally must need help.

At the edge of the woods all the residents gathered. Sally and Barnaby sat on the ground. Frank stood, one arm wrapped around himself, the other mimicking the motion of biting his nails. Howdy cried into his hands.

They all looked at you as you stopped, and you looked back. You looked between them, confusion pushed back in your panic.

It wasn't until you saw the white fluffy stuffing on the ground you understood.

He's dead, you thought, irrationally. He's dead and there's nothing I can do to save him. We're going to have to bury him outside his Home… have a little funeral… I'll have to be the reverend…

You took a breath. Snap out of it, you told yourself. They all need you. Wally needs you.

You forced yourself to walk forward to look at your little friend.

It was worse than you could've thought.

He was still alive, the trembling gave that away. Curled up as best he could into a ball, it was hard to tell what injuries he had. But the cuts - lacerations - went deep, deep into his body. On his face in particular, you could see the edge of what could've been wood inside him. His ear stayed on thanks to three little strings. Blue hair tumbled down over his shoulders, fallen from his fancy hairstyle in a way you'd never seen before.

You called his name. His eyes opened. Without moving an inch, he looked at you through his hair. He didn’t stop trembling. You reached down, brushed the hair from his face. Wally closed his eyes as your fingers skimmed over his fuzzy skin. The trembling eased.

Julie called your name. You looked up at your friends, all collected together, all pressed tight together.

“What do we do?” Frank cried.

You looked back down at Wally, your dear, dear friend Wally. He looked so small like this, so fragile. Your friends weren’t children, not really, but they weren’t teenagers and they weren’t really adults either. They were their own things. And that meant they could be hurt in their own special ways.

“All of you go to the post office,” you said. “I’m gonna take Wally back to my house and fix him up, best I can. And then.” You surprised yourself with what came out of your mouth. “I’m gonna find what hurt him, and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Your friends gaped. Wally squirmed, mumbling something you couldn’t understand.

“What if it hurts you too?!” Howdy said.

Your gaze went down to Wally again, into his open, frightened eyes. He shook his head. You set your jaw.

“I’m more afraid of my friends being hurt,” you said, “Than I am of that.”

Ignoring the way the others stared at you, you spoke directly to Wally.

“I gotta pick you up,” you whispered. “I’m gonna take you to my home, and I’ll patch you up there.”

Wally whimpered. He nodded his head. Something inside you broke, and your hands began to shake. 

If there was one thing you remembered after everything finished, it was how brave he was. Shaking in your arms, his fingers clutching your shirt, face hidden in your neck. He felt so much smaller than he acted, so much smaller than his proud statement of being twelve apples tall. You led the group back into town, one hand supporting your friend, the other holding a tree branch you’d found on the ground. No one said anything. Especially not Wally.

And every step of the way, you watched Wally’s Home. The windows were closed and drawn. The whole place seemed asleep. You would’ve thought… if anyone would’ve been worried about Wally, if anyone knew something was wrong, his Home would’ve been the first one.

You weren’t sure you were ready to think of the implications of that.

Once everyone was safe inside the post office, you turned towards your house.

“Wally,” you mumbled. “I know you probably wanna go Home, but I got a sewing kit at my place and I can fix you up. I have five fingers, remember? I’m good at that stuff.”

Normally that would get a laugh out of Wally. This time, he just rubbed his face in your neck and shivered.

You looked at the house in the center of town again, and frowned.

In your house, you laid Wally down on the kitchen table. Now you could see it better, how his face stretched with pain. Now you could see it better, all the awful, awful places he’d been hurt. It wasn’t just his ear that was hanging on by a few threads. His right arm, too. You swallowed hard. Much as you wanted to cry, you wouldn’t. Not yet. Wally needed you.

Your sewing kit was on the shelf where you left it. You’d learned a lot about sewing after coming here. No big stores to buy new clothes, so you patched up what you had, and made your own, until you were as colorful as everyone else.

You hoped it’d be enough.

As you set things up, you talked to Wally, explaining what you were doing, and why. You would have wanted to know, too, if you’d been so hurt. (If you’d been so hurt, your brain whispered, you’d be dead right now.) You threaded the needle in his favorite color, promising that no one will see the stitching when you’re done. You pulled away the damaged fabric of his jacket, pushed aside the strings of his hair. He didn’t speak, didn’t say a word, just watched.

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to feel this,” you said, forcing your hands not to tremble as you hovered over his arm. “I hope it doesn’t hurt.”

Wally said nothing. You took a breath, did the first stitch. 

Five stitches in, he said your name. You looked up at his face. He looked back at you, into your eyes.

He said your name again, and asked, “What’s ‘hurt’?”

Your throat tightened up. You took a shaking breath, wiped the wet in your eyes off on your sleeve. Opening your mouth to answer him, you found the words weren’t coming. And in the way he closed his eyes and laid his head to the side, you knew he understood why.

Stitch, stitch, stitch. You reattached his arm. Stitch, stitch, stitch. You reattached his ear. Stitch, stitch, stitch, you sewed up his face. Stitch and stitch and stitch again, you found the cuts and fixed them up, best you could, best you knew. Even his little fingers had been shredded, the tips of them, the knuckles, as if he’d fought back against whatever had attacked him. The thought of that filled you with pained pride. 

Oh Wally, whatever happened to you?

With a final snip of your scissors and a teeny knot, you finished up your sewing. Good as new? No. No one would ever be ‘good as new’ after whatever happened to him. But at least, you hoped the pain was gone.

“Can you move?” You asked.

Wally blinked. A second later, he pushed himself up off the table. He moved his arm, touched his ear, swung his legs, and stretched out his hands. He closed his eyes again.

Before he could speak, you said, “Here, I’ll fix your jacket. Seems like it shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll have you back with everyone when you’re ready to see them. I know they’d all like to see you’re okay.”

He opened his eyes. Swung his legs. Shrugged his shoulders and pulled off his jacket, handing it over to you. You took it, examined it closely. Yes, that wouldn’t take long at all. 

But it’d be just long enough.

As you sewed, you thought your words over carefully.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Wally stopped moving.

You didn’t look up from your task. 

“I’m not going to make you,” you said. “I just want you to know that I’m somewhere safe to go to, if you ever need help.” Wally didn’t answer.

“I’m not gonna judge you for whatever happened,” you said. “I know it wasn’t your fault.” Wally said nothing.

“Nothing like that could’ve been your fault.”

Wally said nothing.

“But I meant it when I said that I’m more scared of you guys getting hurt than anything that could happen to me.”

Wally sobbed.

You looked up from his jacket. Wally’s hands covered his face, he rocked back and forth. Between his fingers, he looked at you. Little drops of liquid dripped between his fuzzy fingers. Your stomach dropped.

You didn’t know Wally could cry.

“I’m sorry-” Wally said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare all of you. I was trying to protect - protect you-”

“Wally-” you started.

He reached for you, and you reached back. You wrapped your arms around your friend and held him close, held him tight, held him safe as he cried. And you cried too, quietly, into his long blue hair.

You didn’t push him for any more answers. You would let him cry until he didn’t need to anymore. Wasn’t a big surprise to you, when he fell asleep, his arms locked around your neck. You held him close and wiped your eyes. 

Alright, you told yourself. Sleepover time. The whole neighborhood would be invited. Everyone would get to hang out with Wally. You’d make pizza together and drink soda and play games and everything would be okay.

And you. You were going to get to the bottom of this. Even if it killed you.

[mouschiwrites]

Heyyy ich loveee your Wirtin sm and i would love to See a Kai x Reader story so like they are sitting on a house or something and they both don’t know who they are like u don’t know that the red ninja is Kai uk?

Anyways so Kai is telling about the girl in school he has a crush on and that would be y/n but he doesn’t know that he is telling her and in School they are like enemies so y/n would never ever think that it would be Kai telleing her . And like they often meet as Nina’s but don’t know their idenetie so they kept going to see eacht other and they got reallyyy close and y/n got even close with the other ninjas and they know Kai likes her at then at some mission y/n got hurt and Kai is saving her and then he like know who she is idk if it makes sense but after that like at the next day or something then they meet at the spot they always met and he tells her who he is and then they like fall in love 😻

I would love that 😍😍

Ooh yess!! This gave me miraculous ladybug vibes! :D

Word count: 1.6k

Ninjago - Falling for the Mysterious Red Ninja

You were on the rooftop with the red ninja. That’s all you knew him by; you didn’t know his name, nor did you know what he looked like under his mask. And he knew no more about you; beyond your f/c mask, you were a stranger.

Despite this, you got along pretty well. Fighting crime together is apparently a pretty good bonding activity. The long periods of peace between crimes permitted you to speak with each other; get to know each other, joke around, whatever you fancied in the moment.

Tonight, you somehow got on the topic of love.

“There’s this girl at my school,” the red ninja was telling you, “who I’ve got a huge crush on.” You could see the tops of his cheeks through the mask, and they turned pink as he spoke.

“She’s really cool. Spunky. We like to argue.”

“Like to argue?” You giggled.

“Well, I like it. I like seeing her get all passionate. Man, you should hear her insults—they’d make an old woman faint!”

“She sounds like a riot.”

“Oh, she is. She’s pretty, too… h/c hair, e/c eyes…”

He was interrupted by the blaring noise of an alarm down the street. Springing to your feet, you abandoned the conversation and rushed into action.

You didn’t get to continue your discussion. As soon as the cops came to collect the crooks, the red ninja saluted you and sprung away into the darkness, and you went home.

Pulling off your mask, you stared at yourself in the mirror. H/c hair, e/c eyes…

“Wait a second…” You leaned in, pursing your lips. “But he couldn’t have been talking about me. He doesn’t know what color my hair is.”

Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was you that he was talking about. The mere thought made your heart flutter. Though you hesitated to admit it, you had developed a little crush on the red-masked hero. His charming personality was just enough to win you over, but your genuine conversations made him beyond alluring to you. And perhaps that air of mystery about him was another quality that attracted you.

You could’ve spent the whole night mooning over the thought of him liking you back, but you had school in the morning, so you forced yourself to catch a few hours of sleep.

The next day, your face twisted in disgust when you boarded the bus to find all the seats but one filled. The single empty seat was right next to Kai, the boy you hated more than anything in the world.

“Starting the day off on the wrong foot, I suppose,” Kai grumbled as you plopped down next to him.

“Shut up before I cram your pencils where pencils are not meant to go.”

“Yikes! Not even 9 AM and she’s already plotting to kill me!”

You gave him a harsh elbow to the side, which finally shut him up. Finally, you had the quiet you needed to think about last night.

Those reddish brown eyes gazing at the moon, the stars reflecting in them like freckles of light, the breeze carrying the scent of fast food joints from the street up to the rooftops… the way his smooth voice talked, enchanted, about this mystery girl… This mystery girl that you hoped, prayed, was you.

Lost in your daydreams, you didn’t notice the pair of reddish brown eyes next to you, quietly admiring your thoughtful expression.

Nighttime couldn’t come quick enough. You waited on the rooftop where you always met the red ninja, but he was certainly taking his time. You tapped the tips of your feet together impatiently.

“F/c!” A familiar voice—not the one you were waiting for—came from behind you.

You whirled around, smiling under your mask. “Zappy!”

“The others are taking care of a gang fight a couple blocks over. Wanna patrol with me while they finish up?”

“You know I do.”

The blue ninja was another close friend of yours. Not quite as close as the red ninja, but you’d still call him a good friend. It was strange, the way you befriended these masked heroes without knowing a single thing about the people under those brightly colored masks.

It would be several more nights before you’d see the red ninja again. Though you appreciated your time with the other ninjas, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t anxious to see him again. Somehow he always managed to be off on a different mission, leaving you with another colored ninja for the night.

Your dissatisfaction was exacerbated by a certain pig at school. Seeing Kai every day was like a punishment; as if being deprived from your red-clad crush wasn’t enough. Your luck really seemed to turn for the worse when you were assigned to work together on a group project.

“Just let me do my part, and I’ll leave you to do yours.”

“Can’t you do my part, too?”

“What, are you gonna be too busy desperately flirting with every female you can find?”

“I’ll have you know that I am not desperate. There’s only one girl I’ve got my eye on.”

“Eugh, spare me the details. I pray for her, whoever she is. Poor girl.”

“And I pray for whoever you have a crush on, if there’s anyone so unlucky in this world.”

Your cheeks reddened a little as the image of the red ninja flashed in your mind.

“Wait, do you actually have a crush on someone?”

“No! Shut up!”

You buried your nose in your textbook, trying to hide your darkening face. Through the pages you couldn’t see the crestfallen expression of your partner.

So you really liked someone… He should’ve seen it coming. You were a stunner; you could get anyone you wanted. Of course you’d set your eyes on someone. You probably had full intentions of asking them out, too. Kai sighed, following your lead and burying his nose in his textbook. The words were like abstract symbols to him; he was falling too deep into despair to comprehend them.

He was grateful to be back out on the streets, taking his frustrations out on hooligans who deserved it. His anger fuelled him; he ran faster, jumped higher, punched harder, all in an effort to drain the rage of knowing his love had eyes for another.

He barely noticed you joining him. You had noticed him fighting a gang in an alleyway, and, perceiving that he was far outnumbered, decided to jump in. I’m like his knight in shining armor, you thought with a smirk. The smile diminished as you realized that he wasn’t even paying attention to you.

This upset you a little. Weeks of not seeing you, and this is how he acts?

You were distracted. The man you were fighting pulled a knife out and slashed at your face. You dodged, but not quick enough to completely avoid the attack. You let out an anguished yelp. Luckily it wasn’t enough to knock you over; you bounced back and downed the assailant in a single blow to the head.

You were bleeding. You could feel the fabric of your mask growing wet and sticking to your face. You touched your cheek, wincing as your fingers brushed over the cut.

“Woah, that looks bad.”

“So now you notice me,” you chuckled, turning to face the red ninja.

“Sorry, I was… preoccupied. Here, sit down. I have some gauze in my first-aid pouch.”

You resisted, but the thought of having his hands gently touch your face was irresistible. You slumped down against the wall of the alleyway. He crouched down before you, examining the wound with those brown eyes you adored so much.

He moved his hands towards your face, but hesitated. “I… I’ll need to take off your mask.”

Your heart pounded. Was it time? Was now the moment you’d reveal your identity to him? As the questions swirled in your head, your hands seemed to move on their own. You pulled off your mask.

His eyes went wide. He was frozen there, crouched before you, hands halfway between you both, for a solid few seconds. Then, you heard him whisper, barely audible through his mask: “Y/n?”

You could feel the enchanted look in your eyes extinguish. Did he know you? Did you know him?

Before you could voice your questions, he ripped off his own mask.

“Kai?!”

“I’m… actually really glad you’re the f/c ninja. I don’t think our connection at school is exactly romantic.” Seeing your baffled expression, he elaborated rather bashfully. “Uh, you know that girl I was telling you about a while ago? That girl is Y/n. You.”

You chewed your lip. “You know how I kind of implied that I had a crush? Well, that crush is the red ninja.”

“Me,” Kai breathed, a smile spreading on his lips.

You always hated that smile, but this time there was something different about it. You cocked your head, bringing a hand up to hold his cheek. There was a certain quality to his face, a face you spent years of your academic life hating, that now seemed irresistible. You moved your hand to the back of his neck and pulled him in.

The kiss was tender and gentle, but short. Kai pulled away first. You were about to ask what happened when you noticed the splotch of blood on his cheek.

You laughed, wiping the blood off with your thumb. Kai placed his hand atop yours, kissing your knuckles before returning your hand to your side.

“Now let me patch you up, my flower.”

Thank you for this fun request, anon! And thank you for reading! <33

(divider by saradika)

[eat-limes-bitches]

Winds

*Part of the Stages of a Storm collection*

PAIRING: Female Avenger! Reader x  Bucky Barnes 

WARNINGS: Angst, Injury, depression, crying, hurt/comfort, Soft! Bucky

(This story was highly inspired by You Don’t Know by Katelyn Tarvern)

The wind shows us just how close to the edge we really are

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

Any other day, the view would be enough to calm the turmoil swirling through her head, but being stuck back at base in a wheelchair while her teammates were out fighting the next battle was too much for her to handle. It had been 6 weeks since Y/N had fractured her pelvis and femur and was removed from field work ‘until further notice’ as Tony said. They had also assigned her a babysitter, Bucky was staying back from all missions now, just to watch over her, making sure she was safe and was well taken care of. What she didn’t know was that Bucky wasn’t forced to do this, he begged them to let him stay back. Y/N had wormed his way into his heart from the moment she stepped foot in the compound and he didn’t trust anyone else with her care, which is how he found himself here, watching his little spitfire be more of a wisp of smoke as she stared out the window, gripping the mug in her hands with a vice grip.

 Taking a deep breath, he walked over to her and sat down next to her and watched her for a moment. The tattoos on her arms that would normally glow and fluctuate with the fire she tamed inside was now an ashy black, almost seeming to fade in some places. Her eyes were hollow missing the spark that usually lived there and her overall spunk was gone. “Hey darlin, I know this sucks, but how are you doin’?” Bucky asked softly, placing his hand on the armrest of her chair. Y/N shook her head, refusing to look at Bucky , instead focusing on picking the skin around her nails.  “You were right about the sucking part.” She grumbled, setting her mug down on the table and examining her hands. “I haven’t been able to conjure a flame in weeks, I don’t know who I am anymore.” Bucky placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to find the right words to say but she shrugged him off. “ I'm so tired, sitting here waiting. If I hear one more "Just be patient", It's always gonna stay the same.” Bucky felt his heart sinking at her confession, “Doll…” he started but was cut off by her speaking again, “Let me just give up, let me just let go.” Bucky placed his hand on her shoulder again causing Y/N to turn and look at him. She took in the worried look on his face before speaking again, “If this isn't good for me, I don't wanna know. I don't want your good advice, or reasons why I'm alright.” She took a watery breath and spoke again, “I need some air.”

Y/N removed herself from Bucky's presence and wheeled away from him and onto the balcony, hoping the cool air from the approaching storm could help her find the air that had been missing from her lungs. She closed her eyes and focused on the wind whipping her hair around when she heard the door open and close before heavy footsteps made their way towards her. She opened her eyes only to be met with Bucky’s concerned gaze looking right back at her. She was captivated by the blue orbs for a moment before she blinked and shook her head. “Don’t look at me like that.” This caused Bucky to arch an eyebrow slightly, “Like what.” Y/N looked at him again before her hardened expression crumpled slightly, “Like you can see right through me. I’m afraid you’ll end up seeing me the way I see myself.” She whispered as tears began to freely flow down her face. 

Bucky’s heart broke and he kneeled down beside her, taking her face in his hands and wiping the tears away with his thumbs, “Oh darlin’, what do you need from me?” Sniffling, she looked into Bucky’s eyes and began to wonder when she loved the feeling of his hands on her skin and how vibrant his eyes were. Shaking the thought from her head she took a deep breath and the words that left her mouth were ones Bucky never thought he would hear, let alone directed at him, “I could really use a hug. I feel so alone.” Careful not to jostle her, Bucky wrapped Y/N up in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead while whispering softly, “You won’t ever be alone as long as I’m around, doll. Never.”

[climbthemountain2020]

Flame of Autumn - Chapter 2

Part 3/25 Also on Ao3!

*Mild TW for extremely brief violence.*

Eris

He hated the Hewn City. And more than that, he hated the fucking Night Court. Rhysand and his worthless “inner circle” as he dubbed them. Pretentious assholes who paraded around like they were better than everyone else, despite leaving their very court to its own ruinous spirit.

Of course, Eris made the effort to be cordial, if not somewhat aloof. Sometimes. Eris knew the importance of keeping Rhys and his bat collection in his favor. Their alliance, though fraught with taunting and toeing the line, was vital to him one day overthrowing Beron and becoming High Lord. Truthfully, he could admit to himself and only himself that he was somewhat jealous of Rhysand.

Eris knew that Rhysand wore the same mask he did. A cool, cruel demeanor allowed him to keep things in check, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the High Lord of Night was not that way with his family. Eris could see what his life might have been like if he had people he truly trusted, a family who loved him. He shook the thought out of his head as that trained voice taunted him: No weakness. No consequences.

He straightened his coat a final time as he waited in the stone-walled room for Rhysand and his party to arrive. It wouldn’t do to have him thinking such thoughts once they arrived. Though his mental shields had been honed for hundreds of years, Rhysand could easily tear them apart if he felt particularly cruel. Best to not tempt fate with any sort of redeeming thoughts about the great bat and his gang of merry followers.

He rapped his long fingers against the table in front of him, and only years of training his reactions stopped him from flinching when the massive stone doors abruptly burst open.

Always so theatrical.

Rhysand arrived with Feyre, Cassian, and Azriel in tow. No Morrigan. Not unexpected. Perhaps she’d still tell them one day of the truth behind their encounters, but until she was ready to face that truth herself, he would play the villain. He was a natural.

“So Eris, I hear congratulations are in order.”

How in the fucking cauldron could news have possibly already traveled here? Inwardly he rolled his eyes and outwardly he projected a bored demeanor.

“For?” He refused to give an inch, ever, where the Night Court was concerned.

“We hear a wedding is coming up. A lovely Autumn bride for the fireling.” It appeared Rhysand and Feyre had not told their warriors. They worked quickly to school their shock, but Eris registered it anyway.

“Yes, I’m told she’s wonderful. About the reason I am here today–”

“What? Not excited for your own wedding, Eris? I would think this betrothal is already going much better than your last.” He fought to not grind his teeth, and he watched Azriel tense visibly across the table. So, no truth yet, then.

“My betrothal is going fine. I am not here about that.”

Cassian smiled. “You were certainly willing when you were propositioning my mate.”

Gods, were they ever going to let this go?

“As I have said before, and will say again, I saw her power, and I thought it would be usefully honed in Autumn. I have offered my congratulations to you many times since.” He projected as much exhaustion with the topic as he could into his voice.

More like I saw that your High Lord would mistreat her then hone her into a weapon, but I digress. Seems to have worked out fine.

“I’ve found traces of stores of what appear to be faebane in the oceanside manor.” This stopped them. He had known it would. “The stores were no longer present, but they left behind traces of the stone used for shackles and the powder dusted on arrows as were used in the war with Hybern. I don’t have any ideas where they might have been moved to, but I haven’t seen traces of them within the Forest House.”

The males nodded, then Feyre spoke up. “Do you think Beron is hoarding them with a purpose in mind? His own safety, or an attack on others?”

“My guess would be that he is keeping them to keep tabs on them, as he does all of his belongings. I think if he wanted to use them, or had any use for them, he would have already done so. I would wager he thinks if he keeps them close, that no one can use them against him.” Feyre nodded.

“You’ll keep tracking them and let us know if and where they resurface?” He nodded. He far preferred working with Feyre. Despite their history, she had softened to him after the war, after becoming a mother.

She was young, but practical. She displayed a haughty aura in situations that called for it, but she wasn’t unnecessarily cruel in the way Rhysand could often be. He respected her more for the things she’d been through, even as a human.

“I will. Are there plans in place yet for an attack on Beron?”

Rhysand responded this time. “Our spies tell us that this is not an ideal time for an attack. I must agree. If he is staying close to the Forest House and hoarding faebane, it would be prudent to wait until circumstances change to move forward with any planning.” Eris tried not to deflate visibly. It was the same every time for the past few years. One step forward, two steps back. He took the opportunity to stand.

“In that case, that concludes my business here.” Rhysand stood and smirked at him wickedly.

“See you at the wedding, fireling.”

Matilda

This region of Autumn was stunning, the leaves changing like fires racing through the trees as they passed in the carriage. The ride had been very bumpy, so she hadn’t been able to sleep. Not that she’d felt comfortable enough with her uncle to sleep near him anyway. She wished she’d been able to stow away a weapon or two for her journey. Indeed, she’d planned to, but the servants burst in before dawn’s first light today to shove her into embroidered dresses and rip at her hair until it sat in a coronet upon her head.

She sighed lightly as she looked again at the passing scenery. At least she would be seeing new parts of Autumn. She hadn’t been to the Forest House since she was very young, perhaps in her late teens. She remembered the gaggle of rowdy redheaded boys, all roughly around her age and younger, and the sad, eternal eyes of the Lady of Autumn. She recalled with vivid clarity the savage and cold face of Beron Vanserra.

“You’ll be on your own tonight. I will be expected to eat with the family of the High Lord, and you won’t be welcome.” She snorted.

“A female? Unwelcome in Autumn? How unexpected.” His hand shot out to slap her and she reared back, still unfamiliar even after two years with a male raising his hands to her.

“Enough of that, you wretch. You’d better get your tongue in check before you enter the Forest House. Eris and any other member of the family will have you killed for speaking in such a way.”

“Why will it matter to you?” She sneered. “You’ll have your coin and be gone, spending my father’s money.” For a second he looked like he might hit her again, but instead he settled for calling her an ungrateful bitch beneath his breath and turning back to look at his letters.

“Once I am gone, you’ll have no one to protect you.” She fought every single impulse to roll her eyes at her uncle’s feeble claim to have ever protected her from anything. “You’d better hope you can spread your legs and produce an heir with your mouth shut. Otherwise, I’m sure Beron will find a more suitable use for you.”

She winced at the implication. She knew she needed to rein it in before arriving. She truly was being dumped into a den of snakes, and she easily could be killed for a slip of the tongue.

She looked back to the beautiful woods.

I wonder if I might be able to wander the woods here. Will he even let me outdoors?

She let her thoughts wander again to what he might be like.

Would they share a bed? Would he hit her? Ignore her? Pretend she didn’t exist at all?

She had the vaguest recollection of Eris from her visit long ago. He’d been impeccably mannered and quiet for the shortest bit of time he was even there, and then he had been sent off only a day into her trip. While the other boys had been running wild, Eris had sat at the table and displayed incredible etiquette for a fae of no more than twenty. He’d walked with an almost undetectable limp, and she remembered that his hair was a beautiful shade of Autumn red–she’d even been jealous of the wine red color against her auburn orange.

She wondered if he might have grown to be handsome, or if he would now bear the vicious features of Beron as an adult.

As she rested her head against the window to watch the passing trees, she couldn’t get the haunted eyes of the Lady of Autumn, shining starkly in her memories, out of her mind.

[snowb3rryy]

Can you please write a fic where Simeon is MC'S guardian angel? like he was assigned to them since their birth or something and they found out who he was sometime during the exchange program? I'm sorry if the idea is cringe but I thought it's cool and it could fit with his character :/

Sure! Thanks for the submission♡

I'll try my best🫣

Send me an Angel

Simeon x GN!MC

Life will no longer be as I once knew. All those mythical creatures my mother used to read stories about to me when I was younger, appear to be true.

They stand in front of me, demons, fallen angels, immortal humans... I still feel like I'm in a dream.

I don't remember a lot of things of my childhood. However, I vividly recall my mothers obsession with the supernatural. She firmly believed they existed, so much that she swore she had a guardian angel. Not only that he existed, but that she also met him and spoke to him. I used to think she was making a big deal out of nothing, but maybe not anymore. Maybe everything she said is true.

I collect my thoughts as the alarm on my newly acquired D.D.D. rings. It's time to attend RAD. Lucifer said it's important to not be late since it will be my first day, officially as a student.

I put on my uniform. I'm so glad they let me make a few changes to it.

I walk downstairs and find Mammon. He complains a bit about having to babysit me but soon the others join us so I got lucky. I am very anxious about my first day and I don't have time for that.

Soon, we arrive at RAD. This time, I can take a good look at it. It's really magnificent.

In the entrance, a demon informs us that Lucifer is waiting for us to the classroom doen the hall.

As we walk there, Beelzebub opens the door and I see Lucifer talking to two figures. It seems like a man and... a child?

Lucifer: You're all late. *scoffs* Anyways, MC, this is Luke and Simeon. They are exchange students like you.

Luke: We also happen to be angels Lucifer

Lucifer: Did someone bark?

As he jokes, he walks out of the classroom.

So I finally also met angels, too? Well, technically, I have already met the brothers who used to be angels, but I guess it doesn't count.

I introduce myself properly to them. I first shake hands with Luke. He seems to be a bit scared to be here in the Devildom.

I turn my attention to Simenon, I notice that the way he looks at me is funny. It's like when you see someone dear to you after long time.

- Nice to meet you, Simeon

I extend my hand, yet he's still frozen. He clears his throat and shakes my hand.

Simeon: It's nice to meet you too, MC

Simeon has a soft voice, he seems kind and well mannered. If only he didn't have that weird look on his face.

The first weeks pass and things are surprisingly better than I imagined. I get along with most of them, I think. I choose to spend a lot of time at the House of Lamentation, but whenever I can, I go and visit Simeon. I enjoy my time with him most, but I also have a goal. He still looks at me like... like he wants to tell me something, like he knows something I don't. Maybe it's time to confront him about it.

I wear some comfortable clothes and appropriate for the weather and I send a text to Simeon. I make my way to him after confirming he's free.

When I arrive, I wave at Luke and Solomon. They call me in to sit with them, but I ask to meet Simeon alone. They inform me he's in the kitchen so I make my way there.

I get welcomed by him, and we chat about our day, I realise there is no right way or time to say it so I just let it out.

- Simeon, since we met, I... I noticed that you keep looking at me a certain way. Like, like you know me, like you want to share something with me

Simeon: So, it was that noticable?

- Ha! So I wasn't imaging it?

He laughs and he take a deep breath.

Simeon: No you weren't. I was hoping to not have to deal with this yet but, you need answers that I have and I shouldn't keep you in the dark any longer. I believe, everything you've seen these few weeks you're here are too much to take.

- Well, yes. But I think I'm doing better than the first day I came here.

Simeon: Indeed you have. MC, you see... I'm an angel and, sometimes at least once all of us will become attached to a human. You have heard about guardian angels right?

- Uhm, yes. My mom was convinced she had one.

Simeon: Well, your mom is right. All humans have a guardian angel at some point in their life.

- What do you mean?

Simeon: It differs. Some humans are assigned guardian angels from birth, but most are assigned when they're in a difficult place in time. For you, the angel assigned as your guardian is me, and I was given this duty at your hardest time a year ago, when you lost your parents.

- What? You... you are.. No...

Then it hits me. Something I thought was a dream, but it seems it was real.

- The night of their funeral. I fell asleep after crying for hours in my grandparents' house... I was a dream, or maybe a vision? It was you wasn't it? The one who said that my parents are safe and I shouldn't cry anymore? After that I... I felt safe and relaxed and... it didn't hurt as much.

Simeon: Yes. I gave you my word, and also my blessing to keep you safe.

- Why? You said that everyone has a guardian angel! Where was theirs?

Simeon: We can't have such power when the fate of a human is sealed. Don't worry, your parents are in a better place.

- Everyone keeps saying that! Why couldn't that better place be with me by their side?

Simeon: MC, humans have the saying of "Everything happens for a reason" but that's not true. Your parents died served no greater meaning, it was just a fatal accident. But believe me when I say that, they're safe. I myself checked them since they're the parents of the person I protect. Both look after you, and they don't want you to be sad anymore.

I can't help it anymore and break down. I feel Simeon's arms wrap around me and a feeljng of peace calms my desperation. I realise that time can't reverse and that since he is real, Heaven must be too. And I have no reason to not believe him.

A few hours of consulting pass after I finally relax completely.

- So, Simeon, up to the day of my parents death, you didn't know me? Like didn't God or whatever let you know that "hey that baby that's born now will be under your wing when the time comes"?

Simeon: No, I had no idea of your existence until that day. If I did, I'd be your guardian angel from your birth.

- And, are there any rules or anything?

Simeon: Well, I can make myself known to you as you can tell but, the most crucial rules are two. Not to prevent your death and not to initiate in any kind of relationship with you over than acquaintances.

- And what happens if you do any of these?

Simeon: I can't be sure. I will be under Father's judge but the price will be from losing my powers to my erasure.

- Huh?!

[callsignspirit]

come back home | j.h.s. | chapter one

a/n - devil works fast but i write faster, introducing a purple hearts au!! thought this could be fun to write! let me know if you guys want more i.b. purple hearts obviously

tw - men being gross, jake being a DICK but it’s okay we can change him ;)

caitlyn tapped her pen against the bars railings. she was in the process of writing a new song, or trying to at least. she was debating going over to the piano to try and work on a tune but her train of thought was interrupted by penny’s words.

“if you want a share of the tip pot you’ll have to help me wipe down these counters” she spoke, tossing cait a spray bottle and a cloth.

sighing, she sprung into action, cleaning the sticky beer residue off the wooden counter tops and gently humming a tune to an unfinished song.

the bar was practically empty, only a few early patrons milling around waiting for the crowds to come flooding in. the godforsaken crowds. filled with fresh aviators ready to go on their first deployment.

she spent the next hour doing odd jobs for penny, restocking the bottles, checking the celler and dusting the piano even though it was never out of use long to collect dust between cait's song writing and the playing of popular naval anthems.

the bell rang on the door as 7 or 8 fresh faced aviators strutted through the entrance, joshing around and hitting each other in the arm playfully.

"oh god," cait complained, throwing her head back in protest, penny remarked some comment about how the aviators were her new best friends.

however through the crowd, a familiar face spotted cait as the bar. "hey stranger!" he called, pushing his way past the men.

"bradley!" cait excitedly shrieked, leaving the middle of the bar to throw her arms around him. she slapped his chest, "i missed you!"

he laughed at her, "i've missed you too caitie." the pair had grown up together, bradley occasionally babysitting cait, despite their small age difference. she was there for him when his mom died, when pete pulled his papers and he was there for her when her dad walked out, leaving cait and her mom alone.

she stroked his face, "what's with this mustache? i am not okay with this!" she giggled. although she was enjoying catching up with bradley, she could feel the eyes of his friends on her, on her body. "well, introduced me to your squadron!"

he went through the names, introducing each member as his friend, she could see their toxic masculinity practically seeping through their pores. cait took their orders and walked back to the bar, collecting the various drinks and arranging them on the tray.

when she looked over to group, she saw bradley harshly scolding "berlin”, one of the younger pilots, shaking his head in disapproval. she hoped that whatever dispute was going on between the two wouldn’t affect their deployment.

she made her way over to the table and she set the drinks down pushing them towards their respective owners.

“so we’re good enough to fight for your ass, but not touch it?” berlin spoke up, striking silence into the other men. clearly bradley had told them her ‘no military men’ rule.

“excuse me?” cait challenged, raising her eyebrow. she decided instead of causing a scene to just walk away.

rolling her eyes, she worked on serving other customers, making small talk and chatting with them about their day. she uncapped beer bottles and stuffed the lids in her pocket, a habit she had picked up from her first night, now, at home she had a small collection.

her heeled boots clicked along the floor as she made her way to the back, penny suggested a few minutes break to cool off and to drink some glucose gel to raise her blood sugar. dealing with diabetes was hard but it was that much when some man tried to hit on her.

after a few minutes she had calmed down and was ready to serve again, she led the storage room to find “hangman” standing at the bar.

“i just want to apologise for our friend,” he said, “he’s a bit… my names jake, what’s yours?” he offered his hand out to cait, almost as a peace offering. she turned the other way walking to the opposite side of the bar, but jake was relentless.

“don’t think i don’t know your type.” he stated bluntly.

“my type?” cait asked, genuinely interested as to what group this man would brand her into.

“yeah, the girl who drives a lexus and probably has a million different flags hanging from her windowsill in support, but when it actually comes down to fighting for those groups, you’re no where to be seen! cause ‘guns and bombs are mean’ and you’re a pacifist”

“i’m sorry do you have a phd in mansplaining?”

“i guess it’s our job to fight for you!” he cut her off, “you know what i bet you even have a little peace dove tattooed on your back!”

“actually it’s on my ass, which you can’t touch but you can kiss!” she argued, walking off yet again to the other side of the bar to escape him.

jake looked over to the group and saw them mimicking explosions and laughing at him.

[rainbowolfe]

Hiya! Been loving your writing! I'm curious on your take of Bishop Kallamar x Vessel or Guardian. Platonic? Romantic? Up to you!

The Vessel's New Clothes

Word Count: 1997 Lamb x Narinder; Lamb x Kallamar *No particular gender/sex assigned to Lamb

[Visual Reference for Your Viewing Enjoyment]

Cast in darkness for only a brief moment, Lamb felt the familiar sensation of falling, then ascending. The red glow faded from their eyes as they arrived at their destination. Their hooves made little noise in this realm of nothingness. If they had been summoned here, they’d have appeared before their vainglorious god. This time they’d appeared a good distance away.

 They quickly preened themselves, straightening their new fleece and fluffing the tuft of wool that hung over their forehead. They instinctively went to fluff the wool around their torso, but were quickly reminded that it was no longer there. They had shaven off quite a bit of the wool that used to hide their figure.

It was an impulsive decision, born out of frustration and a small dash mischief. They were relieved to find that the roots of their wool were dark in color, as the cut they’d chosen would not have looked as nice without the contrast—and it would have looked downright silly if the roots were light enough that their pinkish flesh showed through.

They took a breath to steel themselves before briskly walking forward through the fog. No use stalling.

Sound didn’t really travel in the Realm Beyond, so even when The One Who Waits entered their sight, they weren’t quite sure what he or his two clones were doing. He was sitting. That was new. As Lamb came closer, they could tell he’d noticed their presence when his ears raised ever so slightly. And yet, he made no move to greet them. He did not even turn around, too focused on the two gangling cats attempting to meditate.

‘Pretending to be focused on it,’ Lamb thought, tail bristling.

“Is it working? I don’t think it’s working.” The one clad in white spoke, starting at a whisper that transitioned into full volume.

“Ugh! Would you be silent? I almost had it!” The other grumbled.

“Busy day for you three?” Lamb chimed in.

The one in white opened his mouth, paused, then quickly closed it with an awkward smile. As if he were inclined to respond but suddenly thought better of it. The One Who Waits barely spared them a glance, taking his sweet time to respond.

“I did not request your presence.” He finally said.

“Ah? My mistake,” Lamb opted to feign ignorance. “I could have sworn I heard your call… but since I am already here, may I request an audience?”

“Why?”

Lamb’s composure slipped, sputtering briefly at his response. “Haven’t you noticed anything different about me since we last spoke?”

The One Who Waits turned his head slightly to fully regard Lamb for a moment, expression unchanging. He hums and gives a short shrug.

“Really?”

“Have you grown taller?” The cat in white chirped in an innocent, yet simultaneously condescending tone.

“Perhaps you’ve lost weight?” His dark counterpart matched his energy.

The One Who Wait’s head snapped around to face the duo again, presumably with a glare or something, but their giddy reactions made Lamb wonder. They sighed mentally.

“I have been hard at work collecting Holy Talisman fragments! Reuniting them to harness their power!” Lamb proclaimed, hands on their hips.

“And?” He turned his head to see Lamb again, faint signs of amusement still visible on his face.

“And… Well…” They puffed their chest out as they folded their hands behind their back, unable to keep the pout off their face. “I thought it was pretty cool…”

“Was I to be impressed that you have been moonlighting for Lessers in exchange for paltry goods? Have you forgotten your purpose?”

“Huh? No, of course not, I was just…!” Lamb’s mind grasped for the right words, but landed on parroting his words back to him. “Paltry?”

“That is what I said.”

“This isn’t some ordinary cloak!” Lamb huffed, tossing their cape for flare. “It’s made from a… an extremely valuable treasure that no mortal could begin to comprehend!”

“I am aware.”

“With the right curse, I’m a force to be reckoned with! As it is a tool I’m utilizing in my crusades, wouldn’t it be beneficial to explain their use?”

“Those relics serve no use to me while I am bound in this realm. Thus they are not a priority. I will not dissuade you from collecting more, as it means I will not have to seek them out myself when I am freed, but their true purpose is not something you should concern yourself with.”

“Oh.” Lamb didn’t know how else to respond.

“Is that all?”

“…yes.”

“Then, you are dismissed.”

Whatever they were looking for, Lamb clearly wasn’t going to get. They turned and began the walk back to the pentagram to leave, holding in their sigh of annoyance until they were out of earshot.

The One Who Waits was looking at them, sure, but he wasn’t seeing them. At least not in the way Lamb wished to be seen. It frustrated them to no end. Were they just unattractive? Or was it because he was a god? Could a god not see a mortal in that way?

‘Am I even technically a mortal?’

There was only one way to relieve this building aggravation: By taking it out on the followers of the Old Faith. Though the location of Heket’s temple remained unknown, Lamb was not particularly inclined to search for it after being snubbed by their benefactor. So, off to Anchordeep they went.

They weren’t much interested in a serious fight either. Heket was brutal with Lamb from their first meeting—back before they even knew how to use a sword effectively—so they imagined it would only get worse with the death of Leshy. When Leshy was alive, he tended to launch surprise attacks on Lamb—with or without his followers. But Kallamar?

Well, Lamb was beginning to wonder if he was even capable of combat. As he’d never tried to attack them, even with the other Bishops by his side. When encountered alone, he tended to find indirect ways to make them leave. At first he infected their followers with a nasty flu, but when that stopped working, he started dropping “hints” about secret treasure that could be found in the other realms.

Naturally, this encouraged Lamb to promptly abandon their exploration of his rather unpleasant oceanic realm to look for the one thing they couldn’t resist: treasure. They had even taken a direct bribe from him once.

Not Lamb’s proudest moment but, in their defense, it wasn’t Kallamar’s either.

Lamb didn’t think they would see Kallamar at all. So, imagine their surprise when he ‘greeted’ them the second they stepped out their saferoom.

“You! Why are you here?” He snatched them into the air before they could even spot him, the momentum orienting them upside down. “I told you—Why—WHERE is your wool?”

Lamb actually had a really suave, dismissive response prepared in their head that they never got to use (as Narinder never asked). But they were so caught off-guard, that it flew right from their mind.

“Whaa-What do you mean?” They stuttered out, only slightly disoriented as Kallamar hastily flipped them right-side-up.

“I really do not feel I need to clarify further!” He squawked. “Are you… Are you shedding? Do sheep shed? I don’t believe you have before…!” He said the last part mostly to himself.

Lamb let out a soft snort as their confusion faded into amusement. The Bishop’s ability to almost completely nullify their crown was typically a cause for concern, but not today.

“It’s just my seasonal trim. It gets rather stuffy in the warmer months.” They finally gave a response.

“I… see… Why have you come to disturb my realm?”

“I’m just doing my duties as the vessel of the Red Crown. I have no more business in Darkwood.”

Kallamar took pause at that, his expression unreadable to Lamb. They could probably guess if they cared to. Whatever it was, Kallamar didn’t dwell on it long, returning to his gaudy, flamboyant character.

“Though dear Leshy is no longer… present. Darkwood still holds many precious things. Things previously unattainable due to his resonance with those woods.” Kallamar bridged his fingers, as he often did, periodically tapping them together one at a time. “Ahh, but there is a beast that remains that must be slain first. A Witness! Yes, yes. You must be wondering what a Witness is—”

“I’ve already killed Leshy’s Witness.”

“They are vicious—wh-what?”

“I killed it,” Lamb repeated, as casual as the first time. “Traded it’s eye for my new fleece!”

“I see…!” Kallamar’s stare lingered for a moment before he found something else to look at. “You may want to ­renegotiate with your contact. For such a valuable object, you should at least get a cloak with as much, er, material as the last one.”

They scoffed back at him, “Do you take me as vain? I didn’t change cloaks for looks. I did it for power! It’s made from an extremely valuable treasure that no mortal could begin to comprehend!”

“That is… fascinating. Is that a Holy Talisman, then?”

“Huh? Oh…! Yes, actually. You know what they are?”

“Of course I do. We all have at least one.” He tapped his chin. “In fact, there are likely plenty more out there that you could wear in place of that.”

Lamb was inclined to inquire further about what Kallamar knew about Holy Talisman pieces, but their mind got caught on the barely-veiled insult towards their new fleece. Their fleece that was not easy to get.

“What’s wrong with the one I have now? You don’t even know what it does!”

“It increases the strength of your cursed abilities.” Kallamar seemed a little too smug about knowing that. “And do you really have to ask? Look at it. Why, you aren’t even wearing anything under it.”

“I’ve never worn anything under my cloak. I am covered in wool.” Lamb scoffed right back.

“Well you—I do not think I’m being unreasonable!” Kallamar gave a short, awkward laugh. “If you are going to have less wool, you should wear more clothing."

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Lamb casually flipped their cloak over their shoulder, wearing it as more of a cape than anything now.”

Kallamar’s eyes went wide. He had to physically turn his head to tear his eyes away from the sight of Lamb.

“It is like… It’s like wearing boots and nothing more! You might as well be wearing nothing at all.”

“Huh… I suppose that makes sense… I’ll just take it off, then.”

“Yes, yes, maybe you have some sense after a—” Kallamar’s mouth hung open for just a moment. Although he had managed to collect himself, he was flustered all over again.

“Oh my. I was just joking but… if you insist—”

“No, NO, that is not what I meant! You misunderstand!” He yelled, hands held out defensively. “What foolish—why would I—No, I didn’t even—gh!”

“How else am I supposed to interpret ‘you have some sense’ in that context?”

“I was—I thought you were done speaking! I hear things on a delay, so I thought…! And who would guess you would say something so—so ridiculous!”

“Uh-huh. It’s alright, we all have our Freudian slips.” Lamb waved dismissively, then said with a wink. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it.”

For a moment, Kallamar was at a loss for words. He started and stopped a few different thoughts without completing them, physically grasping at the air as if he’d find a suitable response there.

“Could it be that you’ve begun to see me as more than merely a vessel?” Lamb tittered.

“Ignoble lamb!” He finally spit out. “Go home! I have had enough of you for one day! Go on, shoo!” With every sentence emphasized with a telekinetic shove towards the door Lamb came through.

With their spirits now lifted, Lamb didn’t quite feel the need to go on a violent crusade anymore. They got the attention they wanted—the reaction they wanted—and although it wasn’t with the person they had in mind…

Perhaps he would do.

---

A/N: Gee, it only took me three months, but this request is finally done XD I think Kallamar would be Lamb's rebound after being shut down by Narinder one too many times.

[inseparableduo]

Part 1

“- So then I just turned off the movie and went to sleep.” Janne sighed. 

“Oh yeah, that’s… wow.” Jenny responded. Clearly not at all listening to anything he just said. 

Janne doesn’t notice at first. Too busy venting about the shitty movie he saw last night. Eventually, he does get frustrated with her half-assed answers and sad voice.

“Am I boring you?” Janne asks genuinely. Putting aside his anger for a second. 

“What? No, it’s just like… I’m exhausted from yesterday.”

“Yeah, that was like an anomaly, Holy shit.” Janne said, thinking back about yesterday. Who knew they would walk into an active crime scene yesterday after dropping off Alex’s pizza. Well, at least the lie of filming porn was convincing enough for the police to leave.

“Was it? Or the week before that, or the week before that - - Why do our lives have to be so fucking eventful?” Jennifer’s voice started to rise as she spoke. Not at all trying to hide her anger as she mentally thought of all the bullshit they’ve been through lately. 

“That’s a legit question, shit…

Do you believe in God?” He asked, almost absently.

“Do you?” Jenny questioned back, still annoyed thinking back on yesterday.

“No.”

“Me neither… You don’t think-”

“We are not going to church.” Janne quickly cut her off. It’s then that his phone goes off. He looks down and sees an unknown number. 

“Don’t know that number, wonder who that is.” He mused to himself.

“Let me guess. Bomb threat, rapist murder guy oh my god…” Jenny replied in a fake horror but overall bored voice and rolled her eyes. 

Janne then answers the phone and puts it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hello this is the —------ correctional holding facility.”

“I knew it.”

“You have a collect phone call from…”

“Janne answer the fucking phone it’s your brother.”

“To accept these chargers press 1.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Janne sighed before pressing 1.

“Janne. Why isn’t mom picking up her phone?”

“I don’t know? Call her up and ask her.” 

“God. You both are so fucking dumb.” Jenny then scoffs.

“Ok. See you later, byeeee.” Janne then went to end the call only to be interrupted.

“Wait. Wait. Is that Jenny?”

“Yeah… why?”

“I met someone in here who wants to talk to her. Hold on a sec, ok?”

“Oh my god.” Jennifer spoke up, just a tiny bit scared. Last she checked, she didn't know anyone in jail.

“... This is gonna be a really expensive phone call.” Janne sighed. 

“Uh hello?”

“Uh, who dis?” Janne questioned.

“It’s me Kyle?”

“Kyle who?” Jennifer spoke up. Not having the slightest clue to who it was.

“We were at the barcade yesterday, remember?”

“Oh shit… yeah?” She replied. Her voice still a little confused. Where the fuck was this going?

“So I thought it over, and I killed my mom… So you guys wanna go out in 10 years when they let me out?”

“Uh… Yeah I don’t know.”

“Aw come on! You promised! You can’t back out now.” Kyle yelled over the phone. “What do you think, Janne?”

“I’m thinking how the fuck are you getting out in 10 years.”

“You wanna hear how I killed her? Would that turn you guys on?”

“Would it?” Janne thought out loud as he tilted his head and looked up. He was genuinely considering it.

“What the fuck! Hang up!” Jennifer whisper shouted to him.

“YOU SAID YOU’D BE ALL MINE! ALL MINE!”

Kyle shouted over the phone and Janne then finally hung up. 

“That was cool.”

“I’ve never felt worse in my life.” Jennifer said, bringing a hand to cover her mouth as she felt light-headed. 

“Dude, don’t worry about it. The fact he followed through means his mom was probably a total bitch anyway.” Janne said, calmly. Unlike his best friend, he wasn’t at all affected by what just happened. Despite it being his idea to begin with anyway. 

“I guess that’s possible.” Jennifer said, now just resting a finger on her lips. 

“And look at the bright side, he killed her for you. You’re technically the hottest girl in school now.”

“You’re kinda right.” She smiled.

“Yeah, they might even make a lifetime movie about this. Who do you think should play you?”

“Um… I don’t know.” She then flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll think it over in class. You coming today?” 

“Yeah.”

[purpleangelsele]

Stranger things incorrect quotes that came from the mileven discord server.

Mike: All a cute girl has to do is talk to me and I’m smitten

Mike: I’m trying to be funny over text with her WHY AM I TRYING TO BE FUNNY

Lucas: UR A COMEDIAN U GOT THIS

———

Max: HAPPY WOMENS DAY WHO WANTS TO KISS ME???

El: ME ME ME ME

———

Steve: WAIT I THOUGHT DUBAI WAS IN THE US.. OH WAIT I MEAN DETROIT

Robin:STEVE

Steve: I AM BAD AT GEOGRAPHY

Robin: I MEAN ME TOO BUT I HAVENT MIXED UP DETROIT AND DUBAI

Steve: BUT THEY BOTH HAVE “D” AND “T”

Robin: WHERE IS THE “T” STEVE

Robin: THEY BOTH HAVE AN “I”

Steve: IDK WHERE I WAS GOIN WITH THAT

———

Nancy: My thirteen year old brother was bit by another child at school today and tbh it's hysterical

Jonathan: I hope your brother is okay

Nancy: He's fine, the kid didn't have anything contagious but it is so funny

———

Lucas: GET OUTTA MY BRAIN

Mike: NO ITS COMFY HERE

Lucas: WE ARE THE SAME

Mike: LITRALLY LIKE OUR MINDS ARE MERGED

———

Mike: I’m in my Emo era now Lucas I’m so srry

Max: I knew I smelled an Emo

Lucas: Smh

———

Erica: Where else are we gonna talk smack

Dustin: This seems dangerous

Dustin: But maybe a group chat

Steve: Dangerous=great idea

———

El: Max is a tsundere

El: A cat if you will

Lucas:El, she is absolutely a tsundere.

———

Will: What do y’all think Els favorite fruit is

Mike: Huh…literally the only thing I can think of is pineapple.

Erica: Max

Lucas: ERICA

Erica: A M I WRONG

———

Mike: I’m a feminist babyyyyy

El: I thought you said "I do believe in the glorification of murder" and I was like Mike what

———

Lucas: Lemme just…

*swoops in and takes your phone*

𝐌𝐖𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐇𝐀

Max: I would actually roundhouse kick you

Lucas: HEYY I wanna see the collection

Max: You haven’t mastered Maxology yet

Lucas: REALLY??? BUT WE ARE MARRIED

———

Erica: Literally can’t keep our names out their nasty unwashed yellow ass mouths

Dustin: PLSSSSSS

Robin: ASDFGHJKLAAA ERICA

Erica: I’m just saying the facts

———

Steve: “Confusing situation”. It wasn’t confusing. You got scammed.

Robin: Steve really said "fuck them kids"

———

Lucas: Still thinking about this tweet

Lucas: There are only two paths you can take in life: comedy or cats

Lucas: I’m really fucking funny but I love cats. I am a rebel.

———

Mike: I REMEMBER IN MY CIVICS CLASS THIS GUY SAID THAT WE “need racism” TO KEEP “natural order” THE WHOLE CLASS WENT SILENT

Lucas: What the actual fuck

Mike: Like our class was split 50/50 with liberals and republicans, and even THEY went quiet, he was one of the only guys who spoke up and everything he would say would be so out of pocket

———

Joyce: My cousin was pushed down the stairs because she wore lion king galaxy leggings in Highschool and I’m just like damn were they that bad?

Joyce: MY HIGHSCHOOL WAS JUST AWFUL

Nancy: THATS FUCKING INSANE WHAT

Joyce: She’s good now

———

Mike: HOW ARE HER EYES LITERALLY SPARKLING

———

Max: Mike is gonna have such an inflated sense of how funny he is because of her

Lucas: No legit he is

———

Lucas: Why do my fingers always smell like cheese when I'm done with washing the dishes

Lucas: It goes away with soap so I'm not that concerned but why

Max: Do you wear gloves??

El: NO I DONT

Max: LOCKING YOU UP RN

———

El: YOURE SO FUNNY

Mike: ITS IN MY JEANS

———

Steve: Weenie is such a Dustin word

Steve: Like whenever I see Weenie I just think Dustin

Dustin: It’s such a funny word: weenie

Steve: Some might even call it…strange

Steve: Get it? Cause strange and stranger tingz *coughs*

Robin: I-

Steve: shush

———

Nancy: You had to apologize? YOU WERE PUSHED OUT A WINDOW!

Nancy: Like, sharing is caring, but also, DON'T PUSH PEOPLE OUT THE WINDOW!

Robin: I KNOW BUT LUCKILY BENJAMINS SISTER APOLOGIZED TOO SO WE’RE GOOD NOW

Nancy: Oh, okay. Cool. As long as they apologized, too.

———

Will: Been helping a friend of mine with relationship issues (despite my limited experience) and she sorta kinda ignored the advice we’ve been giving her and on one hand it’s funny but on the other hand all I can see is it ending in flames

Will: Her: “I think I wanna break up with him.”

Us: “Okay, you’re emotions are running very high right now. Give it a week, ask for some space, think everything over.”

*Less than 48 hours later*

Her: “I broke up with him.”

Us: “Okay, that was probably the right decision. Give each each other some space and maybe you can rekindle a friendship at some point.”

Her: “I also sent him a text saying I didn’t want us to be over.”

Us: “…why????”

———

Steve: Toxic masculinity? Excuse me? Have you seen Billy?

———

Jonathan: yes I said lobe

Argyle: LoBe

Argyle: What a funny word

Steve:SHURSH

Jonathan and Argyle: Lobe lobe lobe lobe lobeeee

———

Mike: LIKE I PROMISE I DONT WANNA KISS EVERYONE WHO I LOOK AT

El: I wanna kiss u bae

Mike: Omg im BLUSHINGGG

———

Robin: Me not watching 4 lecture videos for bio and then testing for it tomorrow

Steve: Listen I got u with bio

Steve: So the mitochondria right? It’s the powerhouse of the cell

Robin: My professor asked me what fiber was and I literally had no idea what it was so I just said: isn’t it in blueberries to make you poop??

Steve: I mean ur not wrong

Robin: I thought we would be learning about cells and animal stuff I MISS HIGH SCHOOL BIO

Steve: Isnt fiber in cells

Steve: Like it’s tissue in muscles or something right

Robin: All I know is fiber helps you poop.

Argyle: I’m not goin to act like I know shit

———

Max: Sometimes women are so pretty I wanna start crying

Max: Idk it might be time for my annual sexual orientation crisis

———

Steve: For the first time in the history of college people came to me for help on an assignment and I hope to god i didn’t blow it

Dustin: I bet u did great

———

@fricchead @kl125 @rllybritrlly @elisa-011 @flamingfalcon3 @dustinswill

@mikewheely @mike-haters-dni @mikes-pineapple-pizza @leggomyayygo @matchamenace @truessences @threads-of-gold @teafiend @thearcher-winchester-version @crisperia @claire-de-lune @strangermilanger @silverdawny @darke-sparkly-lagoon @dxncingwithastrxnger @drukkaris-blog @angenian-mileven @alexandrast17 @lenorahills @princessbubblegumss @pjo-fan17 @pa1adin-and-mage @urdearestmom @kand1corn @h0p3l3ssroman @mikewheelzie

Done….for now? Also this is all original quotes, if you want to use them, please credit me.

-Sel💜





[ladylovesloki]

Imposter Prince: Ch 3

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Reader confides in someone.

The feast went on and you were so anxious you couldn’t get back to your chambers quickly enough. You rose from the table, excusing yourself for the evening. Sif looked at you and nodded, wordlessly letting you know she would be meeting you in your chambers shortly.

As you start looking for Liv to escort you back you’re stopped by the imposter prince.

“Leaving so soon? We have barley spoken all night.” You turn around and see those cold blue eyes again. 

“Forgive me My Prince, I feel I am still tired from my trip to Asgard. I’m sure I’ll be better company tomorrow.” You try to act calm cool and collected, if you give any indication to this imposter that you know he’s not who he says he is this could be a really short trip. And not just a short trip to Asgard, a short trip in life.

“Of course you’re exhausted, traveling the Bifrost as a mortal is almost unheard of but here you are traversing your way through the cosmos. I will be more than happy to escort you to your chambers for the evening. Would be a terrible shame for someone to harm, what does Thor call you? Ah yes, Asgards favorite mortal.” He smiles at you with a sideways smirk, almost like he’s begging you to say the wrong thing so he can end you here and now.

As you were about to decline his request Liv makes her way over to you. “Are you ready to retire my Lady?” 

“Yes, thank you Liv”, you look over to the imposter prince, “thank you for the offer but Liv will escort me back, I’d hate to tear you away from the festivities.”

His eyes narrow for just a moment and then he throws on a wide smile, “very well, I will see you tomorrow. I’ll be at your chambers in the morning to escort you to the morning meal.” He bows at you, turns and makes his way back to the main table where his family now sit.

You and Liv make your way out of the hall towards your chambers. “Is everything alright y/n? You usually spend a lot more time at our feasts, especially with Prince Loki, it seems you were actively trying to avoid him all evening.”

You want to tell Liv so badly, but the thought of her being hurt because of you terrifies you. She’s no warrior like Sif, she would have no way to defend herself if the imposter prince found out your suspicions. And you know she would probably be the first person the imposter would question, knowing how close the two of you were.

“I’m alright, just a little tired. I was working a lot while on Midgard, so between that and the travel I’m just exhausted.” You smile trying to set Liv at ease.

You reach your chambers and Liv helps you get ready for the evening, once done you politely excuse her for night promising her you will have more energy tomorrow.

You wait in your sitting room, pacing back in forth in front of the fireplace when you hear a slight knock on your door.

You let out a breath, “Sif, thank goodness it’s you.”

“I came as soon as I could without rousing suspicion, what is troubling you so?” Again she looks at you with concern, you are usually in higher spirits when you're visiting.

“I need you to tell you something and you’re probably going to think I’m insane.” You're  fidgeting with your fingers, a habit you picked up from Loki.

“What is it?” She asks you.

“Has Loki been acting strange to you? Like acting like he’s almost….not himself?” Again you are being incredibly careful. The possibility of getting your friend hurt is high and you would never forgive yourself. 

“Honestly, he’s been too busy with Odin in council meetings. I hardly see him these days, his mischief has certainly declined which now you mention it is odd.”

“Sif, I’m going to tell you something…crazy. I need you to keep it between us for now until I get answers.”

“Y/N what is going on? Are you and the prince in some sort of trouble?”

“Sif, that’s not Loki..when I arrived here and spoke to the Queen and the princes in the throne room, it wasn’t Loki I was talking to. Everyone else seems to see Loki but I see someone else.”

“Did you get into the ale again? How many times do we have to tell you it’s too strong for you!”

“No, I haven’t had a single drink tonight. I noticed it as soon as I arrived, please Sif you have to believe me.”

She gives you a hard look and sighs, “alright, let’s say I believe you, how is it you are the only one to see him?”

“I don’t know, but I need help to figure this out. Loki could be in danger and if no one even notices, this person whoever he is can do some irreparable damage to him and Asgard.”

Sif takes a moment to go over what you told her, “alright, I’ll help you. But if this is some prank you and Loki are playing again I swear on all the Gods I will ruin you both.”

“I promise Sif, this isn’t a prank or a game. I need to know what happened to my friend.” Tears now building in your eyes as you really start to feel the gravity of the situation.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright. Loki is going to be alright, we’ll find out who is behind this. 

She gives you a comforting hug and leaves your chambers promising to be back tomorrow.

You get in bed hoping tomorrow will have some more answers.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“The hell?” You crack your eyes open, looking around your chambers and see the very early morning rays of sunlight peaking in through your window.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Alright, alright! I’m up! You make your way over to the door and swing it open and there he is. The imposter prince, looking down at you like you were a steaming pile of garbage.

“I forget how rude you are sometimes, you clearly are not ready for your morning meal.”

“No clearly I’m not, forgive me My Prince.”

“Forgiven”, he walks passed you in to your sitting room. “I was disappointed we didn’t get to spend more time together last night at the feast, I must say it seems like you are….avoiding me.” He’s looking at you with suspicion, time to turn up the charm.

“Yea I was too tired to even think, work has been crazy lately, let me get dressed for the day and we’ll eat breakfast together.” You smile at him like you always smile for your Loki and it seems to calm his suspicious mind some.

“Very well, I’ll wait for you. Did you want me to call for Liv to assist you?”

“NO!” You clear your throat and recover, “no, she doesn’t usually come until early afternoon, you know me I hate mornings.”

Realizing his error, “ah yes, I remember your distain for early mornings but I couldn’t wait any longer to be in your presence.” He’s trying to charm you, he’s trying to use Loki’s class A flirting to get me to overlook his mistake.

“You’re just trying to keep me away from your mother and her embarrassing stories as usual.”

“Yes well, I also have a council meeting to attend with father this afternoon so I will not be available to entertain you.”

Another council meeting, whoever this person is, is attending important council meetings that could directly effect the realm. You take a deep breath to calm your beating heart.

You change and make yourself somewhat presentable, “Loki” extends his arm out to you when you return to the sitting area.

“You look ravishing”, he looks at you up and down hungrily. You feel that vomiting feeling again.

“Thank you Loki, I admit I do miss dressing fancy every day”.

“Well if it were up to me I would see you dressed so every moment of every day”. He’s staring at you now, like he’s calling your bluff, waiting for you to slip up so he can lock you away in the deepest darkest dungeon below the palace or kill you. Whatever saves him the most time you imagine.

You both sit together at the head table, no one else from the royal family has arrived until we are about done eating our meals. That’s when Frigga makes her way into the feast hall.

“Good morning you two! I’m so happy to see you are making some time for your dear friend my son.”

“Yes, we have had a pleasant morning”, he looks over to you and smiles. “Unfortunately I must depart to attend fathers council meeting with the elves, I fear without my input father might insight another war.” He rises from the table, takes your hand and kisses the top of it. “Until later y/n”. Once you have your hand in your lap you roughly use a napkin to wipe off his kiss as he walks out of the hall.

“Well it seems like your afternoon just became available for me to steal you away.” Frigga smiles at you, you smile back but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Yes I’ve been looking forward to spending some time with you my Queen.”

You both leave the hall and go straight to Frigga’s garden, where some of the most beautiful flowers you have ever seen are in full bloom.

You spend some time talking about the court gossip you have missed, Liv and another maid eventually meet you in the gardens with some refreshments. Once you were again alone with Frigga she looks at you for a moment and says, “y/n I wanted to speak to you about something.”

“Of course, what’s on your mind? 

“Have you noticed my son acting….strangely since your arrival? I know you have only been here a night but, you are his truest friend and if anyone notices something different about him it would be you.”

Panic. Deep seated panic. What do you do? Do you tell her the truth and admit that you are seeing this imposter and not her son? Or do you lie? You still don’t have any more information about this person. Is putting another person in danger the best idea? 

As you were about to answer the Queen you hear your name.

“Y/N!” Sif bounds her way around a rose bush to find you in the presence of the Queen.

“Forgive me My Queen, I was looking for y/n she’s……umm….” Seeing her struggle to find the words you chime in.

“Training! Sif, I completely forgot we were supposed to meet for training this morning.” Hoping she’s picking up what you’re putting down.

“Yes..training! I see you’re using the royal family again to avoid it.”

The Queen looks at the two of you and politely dismisses you, “well I won’t keep you ladies, y/n we will discuss my son later.” She smiles and leaves with her ladies in waiting.

“That was close” you exhale. “Whats up Sif?”

“I just left the council room, Odin is meeting with some of the elves from Alfheim and Loki is doing everything he can to undermine Odin, constantly siding with the elves about their border safety, trade regulations and trading routes. It’s like he is purposely trying to make Odin look unfit and unaligned with his own council members. It is causing much contention between the two realms, members of the council are starting to question if Odin is fit to make these negotiations.”

“What the hell is going on? What has Thor to say about all of this?” You ask Sif.

“He didn’t attend the meeting, too drunk still from the night before.”

“Shit. Alright I think we can both agree that something shady is going on here. Do you think its possible someone from Alfheim planted this imposter to make these negotiations go their way? This guy definitely looks like he could be from there.” Thanks to Loki you were pretty well versed when it came to different realms and people. You knew who the elves were and where they came from thanks to him. A pang of sadness hits your chest, you missed him so much. 

Sif shakes her head with uncertainty in her eyes “they would have to be very skilled in sorcery in order to cast this strong of an illusion, one that the Queen cannot even see through.”

“Well then, it sounds to me we need to talk to someone who sees everything.”

“And who would that be?” Sif asks. 

You smile and blush a little, “Heimdall”.

To be continued…

@michelleleewise @princess-asgard

[hesparksmyspunk]

@ofhastyinsight 

{I was clearly just playing around with my comments to James. Ensuring that he understood that fact, both in my playful tone, as well as the smile dressing my lips too. James and I had come, nearly full circle, today during my visit with him in his hospital room, and yet now it was starting to feel like we had made no progress at all. I suppose I should have expected this, given that all eyes were nosily on us currently here in The Great Hall. In spite of James playing it calm, cool, and collected, deep down I knew he would be ashamed to be seen with me. A deduction that was seemingly being proven now with his snappy and rude retorts} Don’t get your knickers in a bunch, Potter. I was only joking. {I murmured out through a slight roll of my eyes, as my eyes shifted back down toward my plate of food. As he continued speaking though, I could feel hurt filling me, initially, before I became outright miffed upon hearing his brash retort about me showing up at the hospital without invitation from him. Of course he didn’t word it just like that, but his point was made crystal clear, regardless. At that, I expressed a light breath; taking a final sip of my pumpkin juice, and then setting it down onto the table in front of my before my eyes shifted to him once more} To be clear, I am, in no way implying that you can’t take care of yourself, Potter. I am well aware that you neither want, nor require my assistance. I had simply offered as a means of being kind. I see now though that this was a mistake, on my part, so consider this a lesson learned for me. Additionally, I am also more than aware that you did not ask me to visit you at the hospital wing. I had learned you were injured, and on my own accord, as well as out of concern for you, I left Potions class and went directly to the hospital, to ensure that you were okay. My sincerest apologies that my visit interfered with your rest. That was not my intent, by any means. Again though, I sincerely apologize and this is, yet another, lesson learned for me. {At that, I slid the plate of corn bread into James’s reach, so he could take as much as he wanted. After removing my cloth napkin from my lap, I placed it down onto the table beside my plate, and then shifted up onto my feet} As far as the Yule Ball goes, I’m sure there is someone else you would prefer attending with, so consider yourself off the hook with that too. After all, the last thing I want to do is to impose or overstep. {I murmured out. The hurt evident in my voice as I spoke} Enjoy your evening, Potter. {Without another word, I turned to leave the table. The way I saw it, James made it obvious that he was only tolerable about having me around when nobody else was around, but the second his friends were nearby, all of that changed. I suppose James will always be ashamed of being near me whenever anybody else was around. That thought stung, but at least now I know the reality of the situation. I silently justified as I briskly left the dining hall, and then made route straight toward Gryffindor; figuring once I reach the commons room, I would head directly to my dorm room, so I could work on some homework I was currently falling behind on}