#Blade also doesn't flinch. He laughs and smiles as if having a good time‚ as Jingliu herself said she did during this mission

[summertimemusician]

Warriors/Hyrule Warriors Focused WIP Sneak Peak

“... So, you came here not as the ‘Captain of the Knights of Hyrule’, or even as ‘The Hero Who Wields the Sword of Evil's Bane’...” You started, light and raspy and something close to hollow that made Warriors ache, you both breathing heavily and bloodied and bruised, and still standing, you were beautiful, taking the place of the late hyrulean sun as you had your knee to his chest and your dagger to his neck, but he wasn’t worried, not with you  “... But rather as an ‘old friend’?”

The way you practically spat the words through clenched, bared teeth would have been mistaken by loathing by anyone else, snake venom and the shape of winter winds in your eyes and mouth in your frigid fury, if he couldn’t tell how your usually steady hands shook like icicles in early spring. Knew as well as you did that all it would take is one slip of the blade and his neck would be split open.

“You heard me the first time, didn’t you?” he spoke calmly, breathing and taking you in as if that single moment would be your last.

(And maybe it might, if he didn't do this right.)

You paused, then a snort, then a chuckle, then a laugh, something close to a yowl, or maybe a howl as you sobbed.

Your blade misses his neck by inches, stabbing into the ground below and he doesn't flinch. Doesn't allow himself to flinch, knew you'd pounce on any hint of weakness and hesitation

“Aah… I suppose it’s my loss, Link.” You laughed, it was a bitter, ugly sound. Something that made him hurt and want to hold you in his arms as he did back then, in unwanted ballroom nights where you'd both slip to vacant rooms and talk about everything and nothing. When he felt comfortable speaking, when the vitriol of his fellow men didn't burn against his skin and the loathing both from others and himself for why the war started didn't tighten around his neck like a noose. When you'd both go horseback riding while on leave and you'd smile for him with all the brilliance of a star and all the sharpness of a blade, ready to take on the world so long as you were together.

He hated seeing you like this, broken down and ruined by war and thirst for justice never given, hated how he burned away pieces of himself and didn't think to look more into the situation before he lost you. 

(And why would he have? Good soldiers follow orders after all, even if it's against their own comrades.)

He missed you so, so much.

“It never ends, does it?” You snarled out, hurt and tired and something that was all the melancholy of a trapped animal, “You hurt me, you come back, I hurt you right back, you still return. I just can't keep doing this anymore.” You bare your teeth in a smile, half mocking, half desperate, “I can't even slit your throat to shut you up properly now, pathetic, isn't it, hero?” 

He felt flayed open, who knows, maybe it would be a kindness if you did slit his throat open. He'd prefer that in the place of seeing the one person he cared for the most a hollow mirror of their old self.

(He knew Mask, Linkle, Spirit, Tetra and the Sailor would give him a good shake for it. But he couldn't help it.

It wasn't the first time he considered ways to end the war after all.)

“It doesn't have to be like this,” He offered, somewhere between the charm he sometimes had to use when interrogating the enemy and a desperate plea, “We can do better, we can make things better.” 

“You really think I can just let it go? That they will also let it go?” You say, scoffing bitterly, “Everyone has seen me fighting you today, hero, all remember what I've done. The only route waiting for me is execution if I throw it all away now.” There's conviction in your voice, but hesitance in your gaze as he dares to place a hand over yours, over the sharpened, but old blade, the one he once gave you, “I hurt you, you hurt me. There's no going back from that.” 

You don't push him away, so he presses on with cautious hope in his breast, courage rekindled. He is so, so tired, but he'll be darned if he loses you a second time, he's come this far after all, “There isn't. But we can move forward from this, there's no need to let it go, but it's not too late to try and make things better either. Not yet anyway, I know you can't trust me after everything I've done to you, and I can't fully trust you after all you've done either, but I don't know about you, but I'm done with trying to hate you. I'm tired of letting those doubts turn into hate.”

Your grip tightens, suspicious as a fox in the face of a wolf, “And what makes you think I'm done hating you?”

“You wouldn't have let me keep speaking if you were.” He bites back, he doesn't have much time left until the rest of either of your companies arrive, “Come back with me, please.”

His tone is soft and kind, and something in your expression breaks, it is the conflict between loathing and grief and longing, all clashing spears and swords and none winning.

You let the blade go, and he doesn't waste any time holding you as you choke on a sob, doesn't mind the way one of your hands curls into a claw, cutting against his wounds. He's sure he's holding you a bit too tight too after all from the way you wheeze, but you don't push him away, and that's enough.

‘Finally.’

[softquietsteadylove]

Your boxer and ballerina thenamesh au is the best thing in the world but it also makes me think of that lovely show: battle of the blades

So if it's not too much to ask, hockey player Gil x figure skater Thena? :o

"Again!"

"Again!"

"Again!"

Thena grit her teeth as she landed, her knee wobble only getting worse with each impact it took. Her ankles were killing her. She dragged in breath, the cold of the rink filling her lungs.

"Enough--we're done for today. I'll see you on monday if you can do better."

Great session, Coach. Thena nodded, taking another minute on the ice to take her hair out and let the air blow through it as she took the opposite exit off the ice. It would be good for her to cool down.

"Uh, are you...okay?"

Thena blinked. She looked to her left, seeing one of the boys from the hockey team that always had the ice slot either immediately before or after her practice. Today they were in after her, but there was always a half hour separation so the ice could be resurfaced and there was enough time to avoid conflict.

But there he was, smiling, waving somewhat sheepishly.

"I'm sorry?" she tilted her head at him as she stepped off the ice, blade guards in hand.

"Uh," he floundered, looking around the empty bleachers. "S-Sorry. Your coach seems kind of...intense."

Thena drew in a long breath and then sighed it right out. She was exhausted after this practice in particular. She walked over, sitting down next to him on the bottom bench. "They tend to be. It's the only way to be truly good."

"That can't be true," he refuted with an easy shrug. "Coaches can be tough, sure, but I don't see why he would have to yell at you like that."

Thena glared at him, her shoulders rising, "I don't see why it's any of your business."

But he didn't flinch at the way she snapped at him, just shrugging his truly massive shoulders. "Guess it's not. Just seems kind of mean."

Thena looked down at her knees, covered by her tights. "I suppose. He's like that with all of us."

"What an asshole."

Thena let out a quiet laugh before pressing her lips into her palm.

"What?--are you not allowed to laugh?" he leaned forward, looking half-teasing and half-serious.

Thena gave him half a smile. "My father doesn't enjoy mockery."

"That's your dad?!" he squawked, gesturing with his thumb to the opposite side of the rink, where Arishem had stormed off without so much as a glance in Thena's direction.

"I live with my mother, but...yes," Thena conceded. She didn't know why she was telling him this--any of it. But there was something charming about him. Certainly more than the captain of his team. "He's coached me since I was young. I almost don't remember a time in my life when I wasn't skating."

The hockey player shuffled on the bench, kicking his legs a little, not yet laden with goalie gear. "Do you even like it?"

"Hm?" she looked at him as he rifled in his bag for something.

"Do you like it?--figure skating?" he asked again before sitting up again with two protein bars in hand.

"I suppose," Thena's eyes drifted down to his hand. She was starving, but Arishem had a strict 'no consumption of any kind' policy while in the rink at all. It could affect her performance, he said.

"Well," he toyed with the wrapper of one before holding out the other to her. "Maybe you've just done it for so long that you don't know what else you could like...?"

Thena looked between him and the protein bar. He seemed so...nice. Just smiling, holding out what she was sure were precious calories just before a demanding practice of his own. But she accepted the bar delicately, listening to the rustling of the wrapper over the pounding of her heart. "Maybe..."

"I mean," he shrugged, taking a bite of his (and continuing to talk with his mouth full). "I think Ikaris is kinda like that. He's just done this for so long that he doesn't really know what else to do, y'know? That, and he's so competitive."

"That brute, you mean?" Thena laughed faintly as a few crumbs flew from his mouth to the floor. She took a more gentle bite of hers. It was chocolate. She loved chocolate.

"Yeah, I guess that's him," Gil laughed, having no reservations about the slander of his team captain. "He can be all right. He just...needs to be able to relax a little."

Relax a little. What a thought. Thena took another bite and sighed. "Do you think it would really change him that much?"

"I don't know if it would change him," he shrugged again, looking at her with bright eyes. "But people are more fun when they're themselves, and they can be more themselves when they're relaxed, right?"

She had never considered it before. Her father had such a way about him that maybe she had never been allowed to consider. Maybe this was what Ajak meant when she said that she wanted Thena to get in touch with herself more.

"I'm Gil, by the way," he rushed after gulping down his last bite. He wiped his hand on his pants, sticking it right out for a handshake, uncaring of how dorky it seemed.

Thena perched just her fingers in his, but he gave them a friendly little squeeze all the same. Lightning shot through her, making her feel squirmy on the inside. She pulled her hand back. "Thena."

"Well, I guess your dad wouldn't want me saying anything," he scratched his cheek, and Thena saw a trace of facial hair there. "But I thought you were really good. It's cool to see you jumping and turning and stuff."

She'd received praise before. She had won competitions with her skill, received compliments from the others her father coached. Her mother praised her endlessly, attending all her contests--even enduring the presence of her father to do it. But looking at Gil smiling at her as he said it, she felt truly...accomplished.

Thena looked back down at the half a protein bar in her hands, feeling her cheeks start to flood with warmth. "Thanks."

Gil cleared his throat, balling up his wrapper and shoving it in his pocket. He watched the zamboni make its rounds over the ice, resurfacing it for his practice. He looked towards the door, hearing the loud and already rowdy arrival of his teammates.

"I suppose that's your call."

He looked back at her as she finished off the protein bar and balled up the wrapper in her fist. "Guess so."

Thena inhaled, drawing up her shoulders again. She wasn't sure if she would get to converse with him again. Their schedules conflicted almost directly with one another's. "It was nice talking to you."

Gil shimmied a little closer to her again, leaning his head forward so he could look at her as she looked down at their white and black skates. "I liked talking with you too."

She peeked up at him, only turning her head as much as needed. He was a lot closer than he was before. Awfully close--too close? No.

"I can take it for you," he held his hand out and nodded his head. "The wrapper--there are trash cans in the changing rooms. You probably have to go home, right?"

She nodded. Her mother was probably waiting for her as they spoke.

He smiled as their hands brushed with a simple exchange of garbage. "I'll bring another one for you next week."

Thena inhaled sharply, feeling another tingle in her spine. "You don't know if we'll run into each other again."

Gil shrugged. "So I'll save it for you. And I'll come early and stay late if I have to."

Thena blinked as he stood, having made his promise so lightly but so seriously. He waved at her again and she waved back dumbly, "okay."

He turned and looked at her a few more times before joining the herd of his other teammates.

"You finally talk to her, Gil?"

"Shut the hell up!" Gil barked at his teammate, shoving him towards the changing room doors.

Thena collected her breath to the best of her ability. She felt like she'd been on the ice for a whole other hour after just a quick conversation. After replaying some of it in her mind she stood, ready to head to the parking lot. She startled at the appearance of her mother, leaning against the stand railing. "Ajak!"

"I was wondering what was keeping you," she smiled, and in a way that made Thena bristle. "It's not like you to linger."

"Sorry," she muttered, fully intent on walking straight past her.

"I didn't want to interrupt you and your boyfriend."

"Mother!"

[beclynn-herondale]

Similarities that I see between Jace and Céline

(these are just my thoughts. Press read more to see them.)

↑ this chaotic energy. You think he got it from Stephen? Nah.

Her anxiety reminds me of Jace's. And like their thought process was similar in ways.

They both struggled with belonging.

Céline corrected Robert when he said "Just like a warlock. Always for sale."

And Céline was like "Always on sale."

Again Jace energy.

Céline knew Amatis, Stephen's wife. At least, she knew enough. Amatis was sharp-tongued and stuck up. She was opinionated, argumentative, stubborn, and not even that pretty. There were also rumors that she still secretly associated with her werewolf brother. Céline didn't much care about that—she had nothing against Downworlders. But she had plenty against Amatis, who obviously didn't appreciate what she had. Stephen needed someone who would admire him, agree with him, support him. Someone like Céline. If only she could make him see that for himself.

_

Jace's smile was as bland as buttered toast. "Go on, go after him. Pat his head and tell him he's still your super special little guy. Isn't that what you want to do?"

But he couldn't look at Simon without wanting to kill someone.

“And even back then, in that stupid coffee shop. When I saw you sitting on the couch with Simon, even then that felt wrong to me—i should have been the one sitting with you. The one that made you laugh like that. I couldn't get rid of that feeling. That it should have been me.”

↑ Their bitterness, anger, jealousy, and envy towards the person who had the person they wanted and in general has the same energy in my opinion.

They both were angry and jealous of people who had it better or they considered to be good—Like, that was why Jace hated Simon so much at first, because Simon was everything Jace thought he'd never get to be, he just didn't realize it.—And Céline was angry of the kids in the academy who had loving parents and good childhoods, and weren't damaged like she was—they both were angry because somebody was someone or had something they thought they'd never get to be or have. (In Céline's case she never actually got it, not really.)

They both like to wander around when upset.

They both aren't too fond of the Silent Brothers. And I think that has to do with their head being full of certain things they don't want others to know, and the Silent Brothers speak in your mind, almost like they're reading your thoughts.

They're both observant, which could be from growing up in abusive and toxic environments but could also just be they're observant people.

They both can tell when someone is off. We see this when Céline sees through Valentine's mask. Jace often saw through the lies of people in TMI and still does.

And the both hate being pitied. Like it angers them when people pity them, we see that with Jace quite often in TMI, but we see it when Dominique says this: “Every Downworlder in Paris knows about poor Céline Montclaire, wandering the city like a murderous little Éponine. We all feel a little sorry for you.”

And then Céline thought this: Céline lived with a steady, secret simmer of rage, but now she felt it boiling over.

↑ Again, the above reminds me of Jace. He lived with anger that he kept under control but would boil over when triggered.

They're both sensitive. And get hurt easily.

“I wish I could be more like you,” she admitted.

In what sense?

“You know, just shut off my feelings? Feel nothing. For anybody.”

There was a long pause, and she wondered if she had offended him. Was that even possible? Finally, his cool, steady voice spoke.

This is a wish you should dispense with. Feeling is what makes us human. Even the most difficult feelings. Perhaps especially those. Love, loss, longing—this is what it means to truly be alive.

__

“I think—my father was sorry he had a parabatai,” he said. “Now I have to go live with a man my father was sorry about. I don't want to be weak, I don't want to be sorry. I want to be the best.”

If you pretend to feel nothing, the pretense may become true, said Jem. That would be a pity.

↑ They both wished to feel nothing, and had Jem tell them that wasn't as great as they thought. But they both still desperately wanted to not feel.

When she was a child, her parents had often refused her iratzes after training sessions, especially when her injuries were caused by her own mistakes. Let the pain remind you to do better next time, they told her. All these years later she was still making the same mistakes.

_

“No! it's better for your parents not to know it happened at all. It was just bad luck that one of them got me. I'm a good fighter,” Jonathan protested sharply.

“It's my fault I got hurt,” said Jonathan. “I know excuses are for incompetents. It won't happen again.”

↑ this bit on making mistakes, or when getting hurt.

Céline always carried a misericord blade.

↑ Reminds me of someone else who always carries blades.

They both were aware of the consequences of putting a rune on someone that they weren't 100% sure were Nephilim, and it was different circumstances but they did it anyway. Jace gave Clary her first rune and Céline gave Rosemary her first rune (I think).

More furious at her own instinct for mercy. After all, her parents had never shown any to her. Her parents had done their best to teach her that mercy was weakness, and cruelty was strength.

_

Jonathan said the word "weakness" with horror. Jem wondered what a man who had drilled a boy to fight like that might have considered weakness.

↑ Mercy, kindness, gentleness, etc. Was taught as weakness to them both growing up.

They both hate being predictable. Kinda like when Rosemary knew Céline would keep her secret. Céline hated that she knew that. Remember in CoA when everyone was guessing that Jace said no to Valentine, and he hated it.

They both never really felt like they were ever a kid. Because again, the environment they grew up in forced them to grow up faster than they should have. Which is why Jace didn't think of himself as one when he threw himself into battle.

like Jace I don't think Céline liked to upset the balance of things, meaning they don't pry and don't pressure. Which often gets them labeled as "not too bright" or "unobservant" they're both observant, they just don't say it out-loud. Jace is definitely like this, but I see Céline as this too. Stephen said she always needed to be told what to do, but I don't think it was that exactly, I think she just didn't like to upset things. Which growing up in an abusive and toxic environment does that. But I think it's also just part of who they are.

That sweet and obedient daughter of the provençal countryside. They knew how devoted she was to her parents. Such a dutiful daughter.

↑ Valentine often called Jace his obedient son. I see Jace in this part as well. Sebastian called him Valentine's "sweet boy."

She could close the door on the past, start again. She could choose a life without pain, without suffering or fear.

But who would she be without pain?

This also reminds me of Jace. Obviously he did end up choosing to walk away from Valentine. But there are times he doubted, because in reality he himself didn't know who he was without the pain he'd experienced, without his past with Valentine. And they both believed that the pain and suffering had made them stronger. Jace later knows that isn't true, but I see the similarity there.

They're both said to have vulnerability about them that made you wan to protect them. To keep them safe. Jocelyn said you couldn't really hate Céline, and I think it's kinda the same with Jace.

Both of them refused to ask for help. Thinking they could do it all on their own.

Céline could tell how much it hurt—and how determined the woman was to reveal no pain. She knelt by her side. Rosemary flinched away. “Let me see—I can help."

_

“Tell me what happened first.” She tried to yank her wrist back, but his grip was incredibly strong. “I can help you.” — this is in Clary's pov.

↑ Their willingness to help the pretty stranger they didn't know.

They both often felt they didn't have a choice in some things.

They both felt achingly alone at some point. And very much misunderstood.

The thought of losing the only family they ever had scared them, and they were willing to do anything to keep them. Even if in Céline's case hers wasn't that real.

They were both said to be beautiful, and breakable. Fragile almost. These were Jocelyn's words. That beautiful things were easily broken.

They both grew up denied of love and care.

Céline had low self esteem in a lot of areas. We often see Jace as the confident character who doesn't have insecurities or low self-esteem. but he does. Jace didn't like himself, his looks don't play a part here, he didn't like himself. He actually didn't feel good enough or worth much, that's why he made so many superiority jokes, because he truly didn't feel good enough but had to make everyone believe he did. Céline didn't feel good enough either, but she tried not to let it show.

Their childhood gave them bad coping mechanisms and suicidal tendencies. They both self harmed in ways, believing that pain made you stronger is one of them.

We often look over the fact that while some of Jace's mental struggles did come from the trauma of his childhood and growing up around war, that he was already at a high risk with a mother who experienced similar things. Because if you have a parent who has mental illness the offspring are at higher risk of developing one. And his childhood didn't help with that.

And we know what they both truly wanted was to be loved and safe. Really. Jace always thought he wanted to fight all the time, but by the end of tmi he realized he just truly wanted to be happy and left alone, he just wanted Clary and his family. Céline wanted that too, but she never got it.

You all realize they would understand each other, right? Like if Cassie ever did something where they somehow met, Céline would understand Jace and he would understand her.

Céline would have never raised Jace with anything but love and care. She would have made sure he never knew a childhood like hers. But he did. He ended up knowing what that was like. And it would have broken her even more to know that.

But she would probably stab Valentine in the face, which I'd like to see.

Friendly reminder that Jace looks like her around the eyes (no I won't shut up about this.)

There's probably more but until we learn more we won't know. Just remember he may be a Herondale but Céline is also there.

@khaleesiofalicante I tagged you 😎

[scaryscarecrows]

Richardson's been-presumably, it's hard to tell with those goggles-staring at him for the entire elevator ride.

Antoine fully acknowledges that he signed up for this, but it's still awful and you know what, the boss owes him for this. Working with serial killers wasn't mentioned in the original plan.

(A little voice asks what the difference is between contract killer and serial killer. He tells it to shut up.)

He's honestly not sure which is worse, Scarecrow or...her. Sure, Scarecrow just dredges up old traumas out of nowhere, but he's also so mangled that a stiff breeze could take him down. Antoine can defend himself against the guy. Richardson is...not in the greatest of health, if that cough means anything, but she can still fight back. And of the two of them, she's more likely to choose violence out of nowhere.

There's a low vroom and the elevator shudders and Antoine is hit with the realization that the power is out. The emergency lights come on, but they're flickering badly and he doesn't think they'll last.

Shit.

Okay. Okay. He's a professional. So she chooses violence. He's not some hapless civilian, he can take care of himself.

Besides, she might not. They're technically on the same side.

"Well, this is inconvenient."

"Mm." He does a quick glance-around until he finds the service hatch. He can reach it, he thinks, if it comes down to it. She probably can't. These freaks run on 'never down, never out', and it's best to have options. "A bit."

The goggles gleam in the shitty lights and she grins at him, white teeth glittering over dark red lips.

"Don't tell me you're scared of being stuck in here with little old me."

Of course she noticed. Her boyfriend is a fear fetishist.

He gives her his best easygoing smile and says, "Just a little claustrophobic, ma'am."

What? Better to lie than to be killed.

She laughs, bright and clear and leans against the wall. The image would be reassuring if it weren't for the six-inch blade that's suddenly in her hands.

"Really? I'd never have guessed."

He shrugs and glances down, bites his lower lip in a way that several exes have said is adorable. He really doubts it's gonna work here, but there's no reason to escalate this, either.

The lights flicker again and when they come back, she's moved. Just to the corner, but she's closer than she was and he'd rather her...go back over there.

"Well, I'd be a terrible hostess if I let you sit there and panic." He has made a mistake. "What brings you to Gotham, hmm?"

"Money."

"Don't lie." The smile drops and the head tilts so that the goggles are dark again, black holes fixed on him from three feet away. "You're too involved for this to be money."

"I'm really not, ma'am." His sidearm is a comforting weight. Yes, the ricochet risk is real, but it's better than getting that knife in any part of his body. "The Knight pays me well, that's all."

"Mm. The Arkham Knight." The smile is back. "Love the name choice."

He keeps his thought of I bet you do to himself. The lights flicker again and this time--

--this time they go out.

He can't hear her. But he's got his back to the wall and fuck it, it's dark now so it's not really escalating to draw a gun.

"You ever ask him about it?"

Doesn't sound like she's moved. Good.

"He doesn't really entertain questions, ma'am."

A low chuckle. Sounds...over there. Stay calm, steady breathing.

"Oh, you should." Where is she. "Just to see."

"Maybe." Nice and noncommittal. "When we get out of here."

Silence. The elevator shudders and hums and the lights come back.

She's standing not six inches from him, knife in her hand. He can't not flinch and she just laughs before turning and sauntering back to the other side.

He's never been more relieved to be out of an elevator.

[pedrosbrat]

Sorrow You Are My Light {Pero Tovar x Max Phillips x F!Reader}

CHAPTER II : Land Of Broken Promises

AU - Vampire Hunters

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Angst, Sad Memories, BLOOD, VAMPIRE FIGHT, Language, alcohol, yearning, violence (fight) , mention of murder, mention of children death, sword, church massacre, some feelings …

Summary: The three of you will go looking for Max’s creator, making unexpected encounters on your way, also discovering that you don’t hate vampires as much as you think...

Little Comment : Hi everyone, it’s my first series, I hope you will like it (if you see any mistakes let me know and I will correct it) & 1 chapter will be published every week, every Saturday⚔️reblog are appreciated ♥ Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Series Masterlist

You've always known and understood that your life wasn't the way you wanted it to be, that it's a state of being that's pretty pathetic and that your whole life revolves around your grief. But collaborating with a vampire was never in your plans, and when you woke up this morning you really didn't think you'd end up talking to this Max Philips who seems quite comfortable with the both of you. That's when you knew you were really in a bad way… A vampire comfortable with vampire hunters…

Max for his part is not quite as comfortable as you think, but he doesn't show it still keeping that smug and amused look on his face, not showing that anything is getting to him. He tries to ignore the way you look at him with disgust in your eyes and a deep hatred in pero's eyes. He knows everyone hates vampires, but he thinks you seem to hate them in a rather personal way and wonders what has happened to the both of you to get to this point... Having no prospects, no attachments to anyone... A very lonely life, even spending it as a duo...

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

"We heard there was a massacre not far from here, Father," Max says with a more than innocent and sweet look on his face.

You turn to Pero and roll your eyes, tired of this little comedy he's been putting on for two days now. But Pero doesn't care, he's more worried about the rest of your little adventures, realising that he doesn't know his enemy as well as he thought he did, not understanding how a vampire can enter a church for example. "What do I know, Pero?" you answer him, more and more worried with each moment you spend with him too.

Not that you fear him... Or maybe a little, realizing with every step you take that, places that are supposed to protect you won't, and that every weapon that is supposed to hurt him has no effect on him... He must have a weakness...

So, two days ago, contrary to what you thought, Max had not taken you back to the forest where the massacre took place near your home and took you west, explaining that after attracting so much attention, members of his species never stay in one place. He explained to you that they have a method of travel that is not as random as you might think: When one superior vampire is spotted in the east, the other will head west, because when attention is suddenly focused on one place it can become too dangerous for all members of their species.

You have also discovered that what Max calls vermin, are vampires who were simply bitten and left for dead, that the ritual was not completed, bringing them back to life as mere vegetables that follow any order... Mere flesh to be slaughtered.

You've learned a lot in the last few days... Wondering if he was making it all up... Why was he telling you all their secrets? And how many of them are like him?

"Apparently there's been another massacre in the nearby town and..." "I always thought you called it a buffet." said Pero cutting Max off, flashing a smirk on his face, obviously very proud of his remark "... For there to be a buffet handsome, someone would have to eat." he replied simply as he got back on his horse starting to gallop, overriding the vampire joke, leaving you to follow closely behind him puzzled "He..." You hesitate to ask him too much, not wanting him to think at any point that you're even remotely close to trusting him "You can ask your question, I don't bite..." he said with a smirk, holding back from making his joke. Pero gave him a cold look, letting him know that he didn't find it funny at all, and Pero simply raised his arms in apology, "I was just wondering if... They don't eat them?" you say, disgusted with the image your mind has just created. "Oh no, not with the buffet he made himself less than two days ago..." he says, referring to the massacre in the forest.

He stopped talking for a moment, and you thought you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes for a brief moment, before he began to smile again, noticing that you were watching him "... No, this is all just a game to him, like a simple hunting party" "And don't you play occasionally MAX?" asked Pero as he turned to him, gradually moving deeper into the village "Not like this... But I can show you the other ways I entertain myself if you wish".

Pero frowned and turned his head. For a moment you thought you saw his cheeks turn red. Maybe I imagined... Like that night when we were both around the fire... That night when you told him that his scar didn't bother you, that it gave him a charm, on top of what he already had... But he wouldn't blush in front of this creature... So you put the thought out of your mind and just answer him as calmly as you can. Imagining for a few seconds the two men doing things that you could not name out loud, feeling a certain heat growing in your sex... God, what's happening to me? Pull yourself together!

"It's going to be dark soon, we'll go and inspect the place tomorrow" you say starting to head towards the nearest stable "No, we're going tonight" says Max as he pulls on your harness. You stop completely before dismounting your horse, "We don't hunt vampires at night. "And that's why you spend more time on it, or maybe it works with the little varmints you usually hunt, but with this one you're going to have to make an effort sweetie."

"Don't call her that," Pero says dryly. Max turns around quite surprised by this request, knowing that he doesn't react the same way, when he calls handsome.

You look at Pero who makes you understand that you have to try. You have no choice. So, when night falls and you have taken the time to tie your horses to a tree not far from the church in question, you follow your new travelling companion very closely, remaining more than ever on your guard, being convinced that you are walking into a trap. Nevertheless, you can't help noticing how broad he is, like Pero, and wonder what it would be like to be between these two men in bed...

You obviously don't notice that Pero has his eyes on the same places as you, thinking the same things as you, for a few seconds: what would it be like to spend a night with you in his arms as he has always wished and a man who doesn't repulse him as much as he thought he would... He wonders how he could have attached himself to Max so quickly, secretly starting to like him... He chases his thoughts away when your words bring him back to reality, avoiding a bulge that would have been more than embarrassing at this moment...

"He will feel us coming no matter what…" you say "Not necessarily... In the same way that you humans can't use all your senses correctly when you drink too much..." he says, leaving you to guess what he was about to say next. You don't know if you can believe what he is just told you, but as for the information about their survival, he hasn't lied to you so far... So why not...

The church that the village priest told you about the massacre is still soaked with blood. You feel your stomach lurch, never getting used to the loss of human life and bodies lying around you, starting to give off a putrid smell from the heat. Pero squeezes your shoulder lightly, knowing your aversion to this kind of sight, but you try not to flinch, gripping your sword tighter in your hands.

"We have to..." you start but Max rushes to put a hand over your mouth faster than you can anticipate. You find yourself pressed against his chest, being able to feel every part of his body against yours, his scent intoxicating your breathing space... He smells good, and his body is hard and pleasurable, you wonder what it would be like in another situation, but quickly push the thought from your mind AGAIN, thinking that you're probably just horny for the slightest contact you've wanted to have with Pero for years, and no men has ever satisfied you correctly...

He says nothing and stops in the direction of the open door near the altar, inhaling in that direction. Pero walks around the few benches still standing in his path, sword in hand, leaning against the wall where the door is, where Max is interested. But you notice that Max shakes his head with every step he takes, signalling him to back off. You wouldn't trust a vampire in any situation, but for this one, for Pero, you don't hesitate for a second.

You start to move towards him before Max can realize it, and try to silently reach Pero, telling yourself that if the vampire in the room next to him is there, maybe Max wasn't lying to you after all... But a woman suddenly appeared from the doorway, her face gorged with blood, black veins surrounding her eyes, turning her gaze directly towards Pero, who barely had time to raise his sword to hit her in the cheek, causing her cheek to smoke slightly from the contact of the silver on her skin, followed by a shrill cry and a black look of anger towards Tovar.

He didn't flinch and just tried to give her another blow with his blade, which this time he hoped would pierce her flesh, but she quickly avoided it, laughing, almost amused that you were trying to fight her. You glance behind you wondering where Max might be and see him struggling with another vampire who must have been watching you from behind. The two men are hitting each other with a strength you've never seen before, you've never seen two vampires fight before today... In a split second a second vampire comes up behind him, and you are about to warn him, feeling a sudden concern for him, but you don't need to, before you can see it, he comes up behind the vampire he's standing with facing the newcomer, rips off the head of his first opponent and grabs the new one by the throat to sink his fangs into it and rip out his throat before cracking his neck and dropping him to the ground. You watch him perform all these moves in a few seconds and find yourself slightly excited by this...

You shake your head slightly and come to your senses despite yourself, suddenly finding yourself thrown against one of the walls. A deep pain runs through your body, but you don't pay attention to it, you are used to this kind of feeling and you stand up to give a precise blow of your blade to your opponent, cutting his leg and then separating his head from the rest of his body.

You then grab one of your powder pouches and throw it in the face of the one who is still attacking Pero despite all the wounds he has inflicted on her to try and distract her for a short while. But it doesn't work, and only brings her attention to you. You then grab your sword and thrust it into her arm, driving it as deep as you can.

She doesn't scream, and smiles at you, preventing you from regaining possession of your sword, and grabs you by the throat, lifting you slightly off the ground with her fangs slowly coming out to rest against her lips, until something sinks into her chest and forces her to let go of you "Vete al infierno, hijo de puta" : Pero's sword. She looks at you for a short moment before her body turns completely grey and lies coldly on the ground before forming a pile of ash.

Pero leans towards you and checks your neck, pushing your hands away roughly, "I'm fine Pero... Pero..." Something grabs him by the throat in turn, but as always Pero reacts quickly, and grabs the dagger at your calf to slice the hand around it and turns to face his enemy, another vampire who he inflicts a dagger blow to the leg, knocking him completely off balance.

A hand suddenly appears at your side, you point your sword in that direction. But it's only Max, his hands completely bloody, blood still dripping from his lips, and strangely it doesn't repel you like it usually does, so you grab his hand without any hesitation. "Are you going to help Pero or watch?" you say, pointing in your friend's direction, "He's doing great, I think! We could just go and talk about the little looks you gave me instead of fighting" he says with a smile, pointing to the church exit. But you don't smile and put a more than serious look on your face, "I'm just kidding, sweetheart... I have to talk with our dear Ted anyway..." he says, dropping his jacket on one of the broken pews of the church.

Ted... Does he know him? Of course, he knows him...

He disappears before you can ask him the question and finds himself with his hands around the throat of this Ted, pushing his head down the stone stairs of the church, with remarkable ease " Where is he? " Says Max pulling out his fangs, " You'll never find him, he'll find you before my dear brother does, to kill you, when he'll be done with Tarja, and you'll join them... with your new friends ". he said, laughing. Max put a foot on his back and grabbed his hair and yanked his head away.

You glance at Pero, who doesn't really pay attention to you, staring at Max, who is also staring at him, waiting for an explanation for these last words, but he doesn't say anything and just goes around him and grabs his jacket to leave the church. "Pero..." "I don't think he's lying to us..." he simply said, cutting you off "... He's not lying to us Pero... You should have seen the rage in his eyes when he was fighting them... You know I hate them as much as you do, but apparently we're going to have to trust this one." you say, running your thumb over his cheek to get the blood off it. A hand gently grabs your wrist, and you turn to see Max looking at you with a neutral gaze "If you want to talk about me... Write. I can hear you from far away" he says licking your thumb as he stares into Pero's eyes, who says nothing and doesn't give him a disgusted look as he would like to do, that would be lying to himself and this strange attraction he has to this individual, so he just pass his gaze to you before turning back to the horses, leaving Max's gaze plunged into your finger sucking hold, making your clit swell in your trousers. And as if he could feel it, he smiles, letting go of your finger to head back to the horses, leaving you standing in front of the church confused at what just happened between the three of you.

On your departure Pero decided to burn this place, even though you insist on the discontent of the villagers, he persuaded you, making you admit that no one wants to see what is in this place, that no one should have to see such a massacre…

When you were about to leave, the church cross fell into the field around it, and you watched it burn, upside down, probably announcing nothing good for you...

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

"You could stop looking at everyone like that Pero..." you say sitting in front of your plate in the tavern. "You scare everyone...".

"I don't mind, and I'm not the one who scares them..." he says as he points max up and down with the tip of his fork, making you aware that you are completely covered in blood, probably explaining the extra food the tavern keeper gave you probably scared of you. "And I'm only smiling for you, you know that" he adds silently, letting a simple smile form on your lips, touched by every little attention he expresses, rare as they are, even knowing that you're just a sister to him... It makes you wish he'd say it in another context, one where you wouldn't be just friends.

Your gaze shifts to Max who looks at you tenderly and amused, shaking his head, thinking that you are both blind "Who was that Ted?" you say trying to change the mood at the table. He frowns and doesn't answer, turning his gaze to the people in the tavern who are staring at him. A man completely covered in blood, who hasn't touched a spoonful of his food, accompanied by strangers. With the stories of demons coming to damn the land of your country since you were a child, it doesn't seem suspicious at all.

He then grabs his spoon and takes a portion of soup, without making a single expression. You widen your eyes in surprise at what you've just seen, and Pero frowns in confusion, realising once again that he doesn't know as much about their species as he thought he did, realising that anyone who can blend in could be one of them...“It taste like ashes to me…” say Max quietly, trying to remember what a soup taste like.

"She asked a question," he said, pointing his fork at him. Max smiled at him “It was my brother handsome, and I want you to talk nice to me. I can… feel, that you love to give orders, but I take them only in bed.” Pero didn’t say anything and just frown, faking to not understand what the man was proposing right now and putting some food in his mouth, hiding his desire like he always do with men, usually waiting to be alone. "He was your brother, and you didn't hesitate to kill him, so how can we be sure that you..." you start but Max roll his eyes and cut your sentence "You're not going to doubt me again sweetheart? This is getting lacy and redundant." he says as he puts his spoon down in his bowl"...He wasn't my brother per se... We just had the same maker... Like all vampire in the church tonight..." he says with a smile, but his smile doesn't fool you and lets you see a hint of sadness in his eyes. Something Pero doesn't miss either, something he thought about on your way to the camp, but doesn't say anything about it, interested in his story, nonetheless. "Who are you supposed to join when you die?" he said, breaking the silence around the fire.

He stared at Pero through the flames, and hesitated for a few seconds, but finally spoke, realising that you both trust him a little more every moment, step by step "My wife and daughter..." he said softly, almost inaudible. You and Pero stare at each other, eyebrows furrowed, surprised by this revelation. "I... A vampire child?" says Tovar, pretty sure he's never met one in his life. Max looked at Pero and laughed, "I was human before I was like this, handsome! ... I had a life..." he said sadly, looking into the flames and talking as if he hadn't been able to do so for years. "... I had a farm with my wife in the south of the country, a farm she had always wanted, a farm I had given her with promises of a better life... Our daughter loved the horses we had there... She would wake up and run straight to them every morning, although we told her every morning from the moment she could walk that she had to ask us or tell us... and one evening I asked her to go and check as she always did if all the horses were there..." He paused for a moment trying to smile, probably not wanting to show you that he has feelings, toward the both of you " ... That was the last time I saw her alive. My wife found her completely pale and bleeding in the stable… She let out a scream like I've never heard before. When I arrived, he was on top of her... Already dead with empty eyes, looking at me... and his own face... was so monstrous, soaked in blood, the blood of my beloved... ". he take a little pause, and you let him, putting your hand on his shoulder, before he said something who really broke your heart “I promised her the world to only die on a land of broken promises”

You feel your heart clenching hard in your chest and look at him with compassion, because you can see him as anyone could see him right now that he is not lying to you... Pero hands him a flask not really knowing if he is drinking alcohol or not, but he grabs it, appreciating the gesture and takes a sip before continuing "I grabbed my pitchfork you know... And I tried to struggle against him... But I woke up underground... And he told me later that he liked the fact that I wasn't afraid of him, and preferred to turn me to join him ... I would have preferred to die with them that night... And I was forced to follow him for so many years, I wouldn't have survived a day without it..." he says, passing you the flask.

"You must not be the only one like this” Pero said without an ounce of malice or teasing in his voice as he would normally have seen a member of this species suffer, he was sincerely starting to enjoy the company of this Max Philips, actually sad for him "There's Tarja, who left the clan many years ago before me, and who settled alone near the border in the east... At least that's the last time I saw her there... And if he's after her, she's probably already dead. She wasn't as well trained as us, and much younger..." he says, straightening up slightly and giving you a dry, forced smile.

“If she had lost her family that…” “Oh no it’s more complicated for her beauty… She was a saint in a monastery that he attacked a few years ago… She lost all her children in one night… And he turned her for fun, thinking that a saint with a damned soul would be something fun, I guess…”

Pero frowned his brows and there was silence between you for a few seconds. You put your hand on Pero’s arm and sent him a smile of compassion “… This monastery was in the north? A monastery by a river." asked Pero silently with his eyes closed. "How can you possibly know that you..." “Because your creator did not kill all the children that night...” Pero said, opening his eyes with a dark and sad gaze…

Chapter3

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[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Stay With Me (Pt. 02 of 09)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 2.4 K

Summary: Daryl found you surrounded by the dead, stuck in the backseat of a car. You were wishing for death to take you away for quite a while now, but, as you slid back and forth into consciousness, there was only one thing keeping you alive. Him, the man with blue, worried eyes and kind voice. Your beaten up body was ready to give up, too wounded and broken to keep going. But this man, who went out of his way to save your life is the only thing in the world holding you up. And, because of him, you feel something you haven't felt in a very long time: hope. Wherever he's taking you, you want to get there, and not only to be buried. For what it feels like the very first time, you want to live. He takes you back to Alexandria, but even there, the nightmares and the terror from all the torture and pain you've been through keeps creeping closer, and Daryl, your hero, is the only one who can keep that all away.

Warnings: Mentions and description (not graphic) of past abuse; post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); some violence at the end of the story (a little bit graphic, but not so much); blood.

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{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

I want to thank my awesome friend @jodiereedus22 , who helped me (and still does) a lot to get this story done. She's also a writer and she's amazing so please go check her work!!

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Fear

As much as you're trying to stay alive, to live, if there's still a life worth living, you have to admit it's hard. It's harder than dying. Death doesn't hurt this much, you think. It's been only a couple of days since Daryl brought you here, and if it wasn't for him, and also Carol, you wouldn't be able to do more than stay in bed.

Your body will take long to heal, says Denise, who comes every day to check on your wounds. The talking soon started. You often overhear Carol in the hall, muttering about how you don't talk. About what happened before. They know your wounds were inflicted. It's quite obvious. But you do talk, just not to her. You have exchanged some words with Daryl, not much though.

Today, after Carol helped you take a bath, you pull the blankets up, over your shoulders. You would like to wear pants, but the wound on your left leg is too deep, Denise said, bone-deep. So she doesn't want anything covering it, not wanting you to move in your sleep and cause the fabric to pull and squeeze it. You don't complain though. This wound is the worst, you soon realized. It doesn't mean the rest is any better, but the leg... It kills you. The painkillers only work for a couple of hours, and you have to endure the pain until you can have the next dose.

It's a nightmare.

It's only worse when you try to sleep.

Whenever you close your eyes, the memories overcome you. Keeping your eyes open in the darkness isn't much better. That's when you realized you don't have to be asleep to have nightmares.

“(Y/N).” Daryl's voice gets your attention, and you roll to lay on your back. He comes in, looking down at you, worried. As usual. “Carol told me ya don't wanna to go outside.”

That again. “No.” You mumble. Carol wants you to get some sunlight, on the porch. But you rather be in here, away from people's eyes.

“Why?”

Breathing heavily, you push yourself up, biting your tongue when pain takes over. Moving backward, you release the air you were holding when your back reaches the headrest.

“Ya need it. To soak in some vitamin D.” He furrows his eyebrows in the end, and you wonder if he's just repeating Carol's words. “Nobody here will hurt ya. Trust me.”

“Would you stay with me?” Your voice still sounds weak for not using it. Looking at your hands, you wonder if you should even ask this of him.

“Wouldn't ya feel more comfortable with Carol?”

Slowly, you shake your head no. Carol has been very kind, but still... You can't bring yourself to feel safe around her. Not completely.

“You don't have to.” Despite the constant need to be around Daryl, to feel safe, you can't force him to be around you. It's not fair. Clenching your hands into fists, you close your eyes. The thought of leaving this room without Daryl makes your whole body shake, tremble. “You don't have to. But I'll stay here. I-if someone out there sees me they will–”

“Hey, hey.” You feel the mattress moving, eyes opening, terror creeping over at the feeling of someone near you. But when you find Daryl's blue eyes, your whole body slows down, and you have to fight back the urge to touch him.

“I'm sorry.” The words come out, but not the sound.

There's a battle inside you. Maybe your mind is way too wrecked, as far as your body, and it's struggling to take a grip on reality. The only thing you know is that you can't go outside without Daryl. He will protect you, keep you safe from anyone who tries to hurt you. And without him... You're an easy prey. You always have been.

“That's not it. I just... I don't get why ya want me around.”

You don't understand him, why he sounds so... Sad. Desolated, even. You haven't noticed until now, but looking further, you recognize something in his eyes. Something you're sure people can see in you too. Pain. Suffering. A past that almost killed you, not only physically.

“You're my hero.” Whispering, you tell him, wondering if you've been looking for too long into his eyes. “I... I know you'll keep me safe.”

“C'mon then.” He finally says after almost a minute of silence.

You're starting to move, pushing your right leg to the floor with a groan when Daryl gestures for you to stop before picking you up. He's careful with the blanket, keeping it around you. A moan escapes your lips when a sharp pull makes your leg burn.

“Ya ok?” Eyes closed tightly, you nod. “Sorry.” He mutters before he starts walking. You finally get a look at the house. The walls are a light pale blue, with not much for decoration. Downstairs, the living room feels cozy, with two couches and a fireplace.

“You got her out!” Carol exclaims, causing you to cling more onto Daryl, heart racing suddenly. “It's good to see you down here, (Y/N).” She gets in your sight when Daryl turns a bit, coming from the kitchen with a smile on her face.

“Gonna stay out there with her.”

“That's good.” She happily nods. “The sun will warm you up.”

You know you should say something. Or smile. Somehow respond to her kindness, but you just can't. You just rest your head on Daryl's shoulder, a hand tugging on the collar of his shirt.

“Alright, let's go.” You're relieved when he starts moving again. Until you're outside.

The sunlight casts a soft, golden light on the street, and a cold wind messes with your hair. This is beautiful, peaceful if you consider the world you live in. But your eyes start looking for any signs of people, anxiety building up as Daryl puts you down on a wooden chair. When he let's go of you, your hands immediately grab the edge of the chair, so hard the muscles of your arms burn.

“Hey.” He calls, kneeling in front of you. “Relax.” Daryl takes both your hands, removing it from the chair. “I'll be right here with ya.” He then stands up, stepping back to lean against the white wooden railing.

With your eyes locked on his, you rest your back on the chair, taking a deep breath. It's good to be out, and the sunlight falling on your face and neck feels nice. You can't remember the last time you enjoyed it, the last time you even had the chance to just sit in the sun. Opening the blanket, you allow the sun to illuminate the skin of your arms. But your eyes start following the bruises, purple and greenish, the grazes and the scratches...

“Daryl.” An unknown voice gets your attention and you turn your head at the source. A man climbs the steps, and you start breathing fast. His beard reminds you of one of them. The one who smiled as he sliced your skin. “Is this (Y/N)?” His eyes fall on you.

How does he know your name?

When he steps in the porch, you look at Daryl, reaching out your hand. It takes a while until he understands, until his hand touches yours. Through the corner of your eyes, you see the man coming closer, and you need to hide, to run away.

In a jolt of adrenaline, you pull yourself up, almost stumbling down, your body finding no other way but to collide against Daryl's chest. A groan leaves your lips as you lose your breath and hide your face. Both your hands grab his shirt, all your weight on the right leg.

“Hey, ‘s alright.” His chest vibrates as he speaks, but you don't move, you just want to disappear, to stay away from whoever this man is.

“I don't get it.” The man says, making you flinch, tears already rolling down.

When your leg gives upholding you up, you almost fall, but Daryl is quick to hold you up. “ ‘S alright. C'mon.” He takes you in his arms again, and you hide your face on the crook of his neck, eyes tightly shut, as if it would make you disappear.

Your body shakes when a sob comes, the image of that bearded man filling your mind. ‘You'll beg me to do this to you in no time. You'll learn to enjoy the blade slicing your pretty skin open.’ He said, laughing, giggling. He holds you down, his body making it impossible for you to move.

“(Y/N).” Daryl's voice brings you back, and you notice you're in bed again, still holding on to him. “Look at me. Hey.” His hand comes to your face, but you can't open your eyes. “Ya need to listen to me. Yer safe here, I promise.”

“No.” You mumble, forcing yourself to look at him, his face close to yours, foreheads almost touching. “H-he looks like that man. He... He...” A hand comes to your side, to the cuts under your breast. “I need you to stay with me.” It comes out as a cry, voice cracking, sobs out of control. If he let's go of you, you'll break down. “Please. Please.”

“Slow down.” You feel his arms around you, and you curl up against his chest. “ ‘M right here with ya. Calm down.”

His arms are the only place you're safe. The only place you won't be hurt again.

“Daryl. Rick wants to speak to you.” Carol says, her voice low and soft, fading in the end.

“Tell him to wait,” Daryl mutters, a hand caressing your hair.

“I'll get her some water.”

“Alright.” He answers, pulling away. “(Y/N), look at me.” Blinking a few times to push the tears away, you meet his eyes. They look like the sky during summer, or like the ocean, steady and calm. “That was Rick. A friend of mine. He's been with us since the beginning, he would never hurt ya.”

“I... I...” Stuttering, you try to catch your breath. You don't know what to say, you just need to stay away from anyone who isn't Daryl. “Don't let him come here.”

“I won't. But I need ta’ see what he wants.” You immediately shake your head no, not wanting to be left alone. “I'll be right there.” He gestures at the door. “I'll be right there in the hall and then I'll come back ta’ stay with ya, 's that alright?”

No, it's not. “Ok.” You tell him, not hearing your own voice.

The cold creeps over your skin the moment he let go of you, so you pull the blankets closer, eyes on his back, on the wings... Until they disappear. Carol comes soon after with a glass of water, sitting on the bed and handing it over to you.

“Drink, (Y/N).” She urgers and you do as she says, hands shaking as you take a sip.

Daryl's low voice reaches you, along with another voice, from that man. Rick. He said he's name is Rick. You never learned the name of the one who cut you, they never allowed you to know anything about them. It was part of the torture, probably.

“She needs to be introduced to the group. They need to know who she is. Who she was before, you know that.” The man says, his voice coming from the hall outside the bedroom.

“She's wounded. Ya don't know how much.”

“I get it, but we take no exceptions. We can't. She's been here for days.”

“(Y/N) doesn't even talk yet.” Daryl raises his voice a little, annoyed. Your eyes are on the open door, waiting for him to return. “Something happened to her. People hurt her.”

“She speaks to you, doesn't she? I heard her–”

“She's not ready yet!” His thunder voice makes you shake a little, and you exchange a glance with Carol.

She gets up, moving to the door. “Could you take this downstairs?” She asks them, stepping back in and closing the door.

You start moving backward, a groan of pain escaping when your sore muscles complain. You wait for it, the noise of the door closing once again, soaking out the light, the click of the locks that imprison you in complete darkness. The cold that hovers over as you wait for the next day. The next one. The next torture.

“Don't.” Daryl's voice cuts in, a force of itself, pulling you away from the memory, back to reality. Daryl holds the door before it closes. “Keep it open.” You don't know how exactly he knows it, but you're happy he does.

Carol nods, returning to sit on the bed. “You two have something going on that I don't know about.” She mumbles, and you look down at your hands.

“She needs time and she'll have it. If Deanna wants to throw her out, tell her I'm out too.” Walking fast, he's soon back in the bedroom, gesturing for Rick to leave. Daryl's angry. You've never seen him angry. “Carol get out.” He mutters, not bothering with her eye roll. He stands beside the bed, and you reach for his hand.

“I'll talk to Rick. Put some sense into his head.”

He doesn't answer, sinking down on the mattress in front of you. His expression softens when you look into his eyes, the anger from seconds before vanishing. “Ya need to talk.” He begins, keeping his voice low. “Ya need to tell me what happened to ya. Who did this to ya.”

Blinking a few times to push the tears away, you look at your hands, clenching them into fists.

“If ya tell me, I will tell the group. Ya won't have to ever say it again.”

The last thing you want is to revisit all that happened. Your mind already does that, a lot, bringing you back to the place where you learned what real fear is. What pain and suffering are. The place where your worst nightmares had to flee. They were nothing compared to what happened there. And speaking of it is far worse. It brings it back to life all over again, make it happen all over again...

But it's better to tell Daryl then than to anyone else. This Rick or this group Daryl talks about. No, that you couldn't. If you tell Daryl, he'll understand. He'll keep you safe, keep you from ever going back there.

“Alright.” You mutter, taking a deep breath, feeling as your ribs ache when the air fills your lungs. Bracing yourself, you start.

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[unloved-cadillac]

Ohhhh, what about Headcanons of mikoto and yashiro With a Fem!S/O who is an expert in weapons, like....She uses her weapons to defend herself and stay alive, and at the moment of using them she doesn't even flinch, but then she falls to the ground agitated and scared, entering a stress attack that ends in tears. thanks for seeing this

HCs on Mikoto and Yashiro with a S/O who stresses herself when she uses her powers too much.

❤️Mikoto: 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖊𝖉 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌🥀

Y/n was his ideal woman. Strong, independent and caring.

But it wasn’t until a fight with sceptor four did he see her break.

Munakata decided to go for her first. Mikoto’s weakness. Drawing his sword, he starts attacking Y/n. But she had her own toys.

Pulling out two swords, with a ragged edges, she fights him.

Dodging here and there, Mikoto could tell she had this fight.

But Munakata broke her left sword and unarmed her right. Not delaying by a second, Y/n pulls out a gun and shoots at him.

Munakata cuts the bullets until she ran out. And again, pulling out butterfly knives she throws it at him finally catching him on his shoulder.

Sceptor Four and HOMRA members stopped fighting each other and watched the red queen against the blue king.

Watching him fall, HOMRA cheers for Y/n making Mikoto smile as he lights a cigarette. But the cheers stop when she collapses too.

Mikoto throws his cigarette away and runs to her.

“Shit. Y/n. Y/n, hey”, he taps her cheek.

She’s shivering. Almost sizure like.

“I-I can’t. Mi-Mikoto. S-stop it. It hurts.” She curls herself into a ball and yells loudly. So loud you could here it everywhere.

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”, she yells and holds her body to stop shivering. Mikoto is shit scared. HOMRA has never seen their king this panicked before.

“Izumo, get the car.”

Carefully holding her, shushing her and drying her tears, Mikoto takes her back home. She was passed out by the time she was at the bar.

Two days later, Y/n wakes up in a warm bed with a cloth on her forehead.

She quickly wakes up and runs to the bathroom, throwing up in the toilet. Ah shit.

Hearing noise from their bedroom, Mikoto enters and hears Y/n in the bathroom.

He sits on their bed, patiently waiting for her.

Coming out the bathroom, she sees him. Instantly she starts crying and apologizing.

“Koto, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to..-“, but she’s silenced when she feels arms wrap around her.

“Idiot, what are you apologizing for? Come back to bed and tell me what the hell happened.”

Explaining her power to make weapons and the outcome of it. How making weapons takes time and her energy. But the bigger the weapons, the more energy she uses. Mikoto sighs.

“Y/n, you didn’t need to do that. I understand you want to fight, but risking your health isn’t worth anything. You gave me a heart attack.”, he says while cupping her face.

“I’m sorry, Koto.”, she nuzzles into his hands. “Promise you won’t do something so reckless anymore. If there’s a fight, you use your fire. If you can’t, you stand down.” She widens her eyes and protests.

“As your king, I’m ordering you to listen and promise me.”

Now how can she disobey that?

“I promise, Koto.”

He pulls her into a hug then collapses onto the bed with her on his chest.

“Rest now, before the others come and bombard you with questions.”

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

🤍Yashiro: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐🕊

Sparring with Kuroh always made great entertainment for Yashiro and Neko.

Training and having fun while your king watches you.

You and Kuroh were almost done when an intruder enters the building.

“Say, Kuroh. What do think about fighting me? Little brother is such a sore when he loses. I’d love to see that face again.”, Yukari says happily.

“Yukari. Give it up already. Kuroh isn’t going to fight you.”, Y/n says as she produces a long katana matching his. “Because I will.” Y/n jumps to him and clashes with his sword.

“Ahh. The Silver King’s squeeze. How thoughtful. Are you as sore of a loser as Kuroh?”, Yukari pushes her away and flings her sword away from her and laughs.

“Pathetic.”, he says. “I’m not done yet!” Y/n exclaims and pulls out a shotgun. Firing at Yukari, he jumps around the building, avoiding bullets.

But she runs out of bulllets, so she quickly pulls out two pistols and fires. Catching Yukari, Kuroh pins him down and takes his blade, aiming at his throat.

“Get outta here before she kills you.”, he says and pushes Yukari away. “Tch. What a nuisance.” He says and teleports away with his dignity.

Yashiro laughs and looks at Y/n. “Honey?” He calls out to her. She stares and collapses on the floor.

Clutching her head she cries out and yells. Shiro, Neko and Kuroh act fast to her side. Shiro grabs her.

“Y/n! Y/n! What’s happening!? Talk to me.”, he tries speaking to her. “Sh-Shiro! It hurts! I can’t. I can’t!” She chokes out and squeezes her head. “It’s too much!”

Yashiro looks at Neko and she was already ready to take her back to their home.

Y/n screams were playing in his head. Shiro vowed to never let her experience what she just did, ever again. He never wanted to hear her scream like that, ever.

Sitting on the side of their bed, he waits for her to wake. Thinking about how this could’ve happened, he hears her groans.

“Y/n. Darling.”, he says as he sits next her.

“Shiro. I’m so sorry.”, she says softly.

“No. Don’t ever apologize. I’m so glad that you’re okay. Tell me what happened.”

So she does. She tells him that she can produce weapons from her own body but it costs her energy and how she hardly used it because of her stress levels and the pain she endured after.

“Baka. Then why would you almost risk your life for such a petty fight? You scared me, Y/n. I thought I was going to lose you.”, he whispers.

“I’m sorry, darling. I promise I won’t do that again.” She smiles and cups his face. He turns and kisses her palm when they are interrupted by two guests.

“Y/n!!! Oh I’m so happy you’re okay! We were worried sick. My Shiro stayed up all night for you.”, she comes and snuggles next her. “Good to see you’re awake, Y/n. How are you feeling?”, Kuroh asks also sitting on the bed.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I worried you guys.”

“Now, time for food!”, Neko shouts, causing Kuroh to shush her. Yashiro looks at you and kisses your head. Don’t ever scare me like that again.

———————————————————————

“Wow a first request for K-Project! I really enjoyed writing this. Thanks for the request, anon!”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

We've Got Tonight - Ch 4

Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”

Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.

What the hell, let’s give it a shot.

EXTRA WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS THE SOURCE OF MOST OF THE WARNINGS FOR THE STORY. Please don't kill me. THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER, I PROMISE. It's not over yet. I can't promise you won't hate me when it's over, but I will not leave you here. There's more.

Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.

In case you missed it: Chapter 3 ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist

...

We’ve Got Tonight

Ch 4

Pre-dawn is too damn cold, she decides. She has to visually check that her fingers are actually doing up the buttons to her ragged denim jacket. She lost sensation in her hands a while back, and it’s the only way to make sure they’re actually doing their job. Her jacket is utterly unsuitable for the current temperature, but she doesn’t expect to need it for much longer.

Just before sunrise, Crowley told her.

The sky is already lightening on the horizon, the medium gray more obvious than she would have thought against the stark black, but, then, she’s never had much occasion to be out quite this late before. She’s usually done at the diner by six, singing at the club by ten, and in bed by two at the latest. She hopes Crowley is punctual. She can’t decide if the waiting or the cold is worse.

Except that, yes, she really can. The waiting is definitely worse.

The sound of shifting gravel pulls her out of her thoughts, and she turns to find the King of Hell himself smiling beatifically at her. She shivers, not bothering to search out the source of her discomfort, as she is rather spoiled for choice at the moment. She’s out in the freezing dark, about to hand over her life and soul to a demon because deranged cultists got it into their heads that they should use her blood to start an apocalypse (and who knew there was more than one of those outside of Sunnydale, seriously).

Shivering is probably the most rational reaction she’s had in a while.

“Hello, darling. Pleasant evening with the boys?”

He’s got more sass in one off-the cuff remark than she has in her entire history, and for a moment she can only marvel at the affected innocence in his expression. It's almost convincing. She opts to remain silent rather than take his bait. He smirks, the expression natural and only a touch derisive.

“No surprises, then? No sidekicks to save you at the last minute from the bad, bad demon?”

“I thought the torture didn’t start until after you kill me,” she sighs, hugging her arms tighter around herself, a futile attempt to ward off the chill. Maybe she’s got a little spark in her, after all. He laughs, a friendly, personable chuckle that would set anyone else at ease, reassure them of his honorable, benign intentions.

“Come on, Crowley, what's the hold up? I was here on time. Can we just get this over with already? I could have gotten one more round in with Dean if we were just going to stand around, shootin’ the breeze.”

Even watching for it, she can only just see the tick in Crowley's jaw, the slightest tension that betrays...something. She doesn't know what or why, but Crowley has more than a little unhealthy obsession with the elder Winchester brother, and she is pleased she managed to crack his veneer even for the briefest moment.

At least I don't have to worry about Dean, Andy thinks, relief creeping into the sea of dread that is her stomach. Her deal with Crowley was not only about stopping the apocalypse but also keeping Sam and Dean and even Castiel safe.

“Once you're gone, I won’t harm a hair on their precious heads, nor any other part of them,” he swore to her a mere eighteen hours earlier.

“I’m hurt you don't find my company more pleasant, love,” he murmurs, taking a couple of steps closer. He slides his hands in his coat pockets, the very picture of nonchalance. “I do try my best to be cordial, even congenial, after all. But since you’re so very uncomfortable, I suppose you won't object, then, that I took the liberty of inviting a few friends whose company you seem to prefer. What a lovely party we’ll have when they get here.”

As if he’s summoned them, a pair of lights appear in the distance, growing larger with every passing moment. Headlights, she realizes; a second later, she hears the distinctive roaring of a very particular car engine, and before she can turn back to Crowley, the Impala leaps out of the darkness, skidding across the hard-packed dirt road, coming to a halt bare inches from the demon’s impeccably shined shoes.

Andy stumbles back, choking in the cloud of dust the car kicks up, only to hit something solid. Impossibly strong fingers dig into her chin, lifting her face out and away as cold, thin metal is pressed to the side of her neck, and only now does she freeze.

“Let her go, Crowley,” Dean growls, his gun drawn and aimed even before he exits the car. “This isn't her fight, and you know it!” On the other side, Sam and Castiel climb out, Sam drawing his gun and moving to flank the demon.

“I do heartily protest, sir,” Crowley says, his tone mild and conversational. The blade digs in ever so slightly under her ear, and a thin trickle of warmth slides down her skin to soak into her collar. Dean doesn't flinch, but his eyes narrow, and he readjusts his aim.

“Not only is the lady at the epicenter of this fight, she's gone and made herself the brightest star in the show. Ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”

“How-” she manages through fear-numbed vocal cords. Dean should be unconscious, snoring blissfully away in his bed where she left him. She made sure to leave no sort of trail they could follow, and she checked that they were all asleep or otherwise occupied before she took off.

“I wasn’t asleep, Andy,” Dean replies, leveling his gun at Crowley. “And I’ve been tracking since I was seven. Gimme some credit.”

“I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Moose.” Crowley’s words freeze Sam in his tracks, and the blade on Andy’s neck digs in a little deeper. The flow of warmth down her neck widens just a touch. The sheer smugness in Crowley’s tone sets her teeth on edge, breaking through her stupor, and she grabs the hand with the knife, pulling at it with all her might. She, of course, doesn’t make a dent in the demonic strength, but she’s got to try something.

If you asked her later, Andy would swear to you that the searing pain that drags along her neck parallel to her jaw line right then is pure Hellfire. Deep down in the darkest recesses of her mind where all the worst truths lurk, she knows she’s feeling the bite from Crowley’s knife, but in that instant all she is aware of is the agony of the wound, of Dean’s enraged roar, and the juxtaposition of Crowley’s gentle touch pressing her own fingers to something hot and slippery under her jaw.

“Hold pressure there, sweetheart, or you’ll bleed out too soon. Wouldn’t want you to miss the finale.”

Her knees buckle, and she drops, but somehow she stays upright long enough to see Crowley’s demons approach out of the darkness. She tries to warn the boys, but time moves with a dreamlike lethargy that betrays every one of her good intentions, and, anyway, her voice doesn’t seem to be working at the moment. The roar of gunfire all around her sounds faint in comparison to the rushing in her ears, and she is powerless to stop Crowley’s plans from reaching fruition.

“You...said...you wouldn’t...”

“Well, pet, you aren’t dead yet, are you? I’ve got, what, at least another three minutes before you snuff it, by my count. Plenty of time to conclude my business with the Winchesters and their featherbrained friend before you expire.”

Though he was right behind her only a moment ago, Crowley appears abruptly next to Castiel, who at the moment is distracted by two lesser demons both wielding machetes. She realizes as she watches Cas easily fend them off that they, just like Andy, are only a distraction, only bait to tempt the bigger players to overextend themselves.

Too late, she sees the perfection of Crowley’s plan. In all the confusion, she loses track of Sam, and she wrenches her eyes away from Dean’s staggering form only to watch as the angel blade in Crowley’s hand bursts through Castiel’s chest. Then her gentle, confused friend is gone in a flash. The demons vanish, and she can’t find Sam or Dean, can’t reach them, can’t make her voice work to call out.

The quiet is wrong, so out of place after the violent cacophony. The roaring is gone, the gunfire silenced, and all that’s left is a terrible wheezing, gurgling sound that takes her too long to recognize as her own labored breathing.

“Crow...ley…”

“I’m here, darling. What do you need?”

“Lying...bastard…”

“Now, now, sweetheart, are those really what you want your last words to be?” He lifts her easily from the ground, carrying her the few yards to where Dean lies sprawled in the dusty gravel. His shirt is stained black in the retreating darkness, and Andy can only be thankful that she won’t make it to sunrise to see what exact shade of red is spreading over him. Dean’s far hand scrabbles on the ground, stopping its frantic search only when it finds his brother’s.

Sam’s still form doesn’t return his brother’s grip.

“After all, I’ve done you a favor; I didn’t have to give you the opportunity to say good-bye. I can’t promise you adjoining cells, but I’m sure your torture will coincide with his occasionally,” Crowley continues conversationally, “so, really, the two of you should be thanking me that you’ll at least get occasional visiting privileges. It pays to be on good terms with the king, after all. And, who knows? After a couple hundred years of good behavior, I might even be persuaded to-”

“Why?” It’s all she can manage as he lays her on the ground. Dean reaches for her with his free hand, and she is just able to find his fingers. Their eyes meet, but her vision is blurring as breathing gets tougher, and she can’t see what he’s mouthing to her. Even his eyes, such a luminescent green only hours ago, are fading into the remaining dark of the night.

“The Winchesters, dear, it’s always been about the Winchesters. Oh, the fanatics and their doomsday ritual were real enough, as was your blood. I just simply took advantage of the situation, as any intelligent monarch would do. Settled things with the apocalypse groupies, rid myself of some major pains in my rear, and now I get you, to boot! I do love when a plan comes together.”

Dean’s fingers tighten in hers, and she tries to grip his back, but the harder she holds on, the less she can feel him.

She’s not really feeling much of anything but cold now.

“Shut...up...already.”

“Always ungrateful in the end, even after everything I do for them,” Crowley grumbles from above her. But then he does shut up, and she finally feels something besides the cold.

Relief. ...

Chapter 5

[thewrittingworldofeva]

"God or Gods, does it matter?" PART 10

MASTERLIST

Base of the story :

“York is envied by the vikings and during the battle Ivar sees a Saxon girl fight with one of his warriors. The protagonist has a brother with the same disease as Ivar.”

N/A : Hi everyone, the new part is here! So, in simply italics it's voice in the head or the character thinking, I just wanted to precise that you are not confuse about it. Hope you like it and thank you all so much for your support and appreciating my writing! xo

The next morning, Ligeia was going to the blacksmith. On her way she sees Queen Astrid talking to a man, probably a fisherman she thought. She sees her put gold in his hands. But then, the Queen’s face changes. Something was wrong and she will find out what is going on. Later in the morning, Ligeia goes back to the Great Hall, Rosalia was eating and Apollo was in front of her with the same ginger head lady of last night. On the side, Queen Astrid was sharpening a knife. Why would the Queen sharpen a knife ?

She sits next to her sister and to mess with her, take a little piece of chicken in her plate. Rosalia instantly reacts and whines about “her chicken”, making Apollo and Ligeia laugh. Ligeia is keeping an eye on Astrid, a few minutes later she leaves the room. Ligeia waited a little before following her. She secretly follows her behind, her sword on her back, a knife strap on her thigh. She sees Astrid entering a little fish house, closing the door behind her.

A young boy recognizing his Queen, quietly watches her, and gets closer to the house. He almost jumped back out of the door, panic in his eyes. Ligeia comes closer and puts a hand on his small shoulder. He looked at her, shooken. “What did you see?” she demands softly. “He’s hurting the Queen.” he responded sadly. “Go back home, I’ll take care of this.”

The boy literally ran off. Ligeia hides herself on the side of the shack, listening to the sound inside. “What are you doing?” the sound of the door open and closing was heard. “Who are these men?” Someone chuckling. “My crew. I told you, what man doesn't want to have sex with the queen?” he says with a predatory smile. “No.” “Ha!” exclaimed Hakon. “No.” She immediately recognized Astrid's voice, and some fighting noise. “If you don't submit, I'll tell King Harald how you plan to betray him.”

Without hesitation Ligeia opened the door with force, making it slam against the wall. Astrid was held against the table by three men and a fourth one, who she concluded was the captain, was standing back. Astrid was looking at her with joy and fear, asking her to help her but also to run away. Ligeia sweeps her eyes on everyone in the room. “Get the fuck away from her.” she swore her fingers tickling.

The captain laughed looking at her head to toe. Ligeia's face is cold as ice. “Or what?” teased the fisherman, his face close to her’s. She slowly smirks, raising one eye-brow. She gives him a head in the nose, making him groan of pain, holding his nose. The other men, let go of Astrid, now she got their attention. They approach her, and a fight starts. She defends herself, dodging the blows. The goes behind the back of one of them and places her knife against his throat, blocking one of his arms against his back. Standing in front of Astrid, her eyes darker than usual threatening them.

“Move further and I cut his throat !” hissed Ligeia. Hakon, who was under the control of the foreigner, winced in pain. One of his mates took a step forward, Ligeia put more pressure on his neck, and the blade made a small cut causing a little blood to flow. “Don’t move !” screams Hakon sensing is skin being cut. “Listen to me carefully, Hakon” she starts whispering in his ear. “You are going to do what the Queen demands of you, and you are not going to tell anything to King Harald. And if I see you land a hand on her, or talk to the King ; I promise you, that I will take care of you and your crew. Do I make myself clear ?”

Astrid doesn't move a finger, looking at the men in front of her. She can see that they are scared, which is understandable. Ligeia was brought back by Ivar, in some kind of way, she is a prisoner. She talks their language and the Saxon one, she knows how to fight and has quite a temper. They don’t really know what she’s capable of. So, nobody answered her question. “Am I clear ?!” barked Ligeia, making everyone flinch.

“Crystal clear” confirmed Hakon with difficulties speaking because of the pressure on his throat. “Now, everyone steps back.” She instructed, moving forward to the door. “Queen Astrid, stay here.” she says looking behind her shoulder. Astrid shook her head in approval. They all step back and when they are outside, she throws Hakon on the floor before spitting on him.

She goes back inside, putting her knife back in his holster. “Are you okay ?” she asks Astrid, who’s eyes were watery. Ligeia starts getting worried, when the Queen just stares at her without moving. “Queen As…” Ligeia didn’t finish her sentence, so Astrid jumped on her and hugged her tightly. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” she cried in Ligeia’s neck.

The Saxon girl froze, arms straight against her body. She slowly raised her hands and put them on her back, patting it softly. “Alright, we should go.” Ligeia said breaking the embrace and taking one step back. “We are going to clean yourself, okay?” she continued carefully. “Okay.” agreed Astrid. After taking care of Astrid, Ligeia asks Rosalia to watch over the Queen. Rosalia was happy to have a mission. “Brother, I need to talk to you.” told Ligeia to Apollo. “Let’s go for a walk.” she smiles with a hint of sadness.

Ligeia walks and Apollo crept next to her. “Are you going to tell me what is going on with you?” begin Apollo looking briefly at his sister. “I know there is something that bothers and stresses you.” pointed out the young man. “I can’t hide you anything!” smile Ligeia. “I am a good observer.” joked Apollo proudly. “Anyways, what do you want to tell me?” curiosity shining in his eyes. “The person that killed our parents…” she stops her sentence midway struggling to tell the words, Apollo looking at her eager to know. “Is here.” she deeply sighted a weight leaving her chest. “Who is it?” he begged. “The bishop.”

Apollo’s mouth opened in the “o” shape. He wasn’t expecting this revelation. “Since this night, I promise myself to kill their murderer. But I will not be able to keep it.” confessed Ligeia clenching her fist. “Why?” questioned Apollo frowning. “Ivar has asked him to fight for him. If he decides to fight for him, I can’t do anything to him. Also, my priority now, is to protect Rosalia and you. We are in a place we don’t know, and we are not very much loved among them.” she affirmed amused.

People around them start to get agitated, and start clamoring. They decided to get close. “Why is he here, the Christian dog?” a man screamed in the crowd. “The heathen!” “Kill him! Kill him!” Heahmund was chained up and escorted to Ivar, who was eating peacefully a piece of chicken. One of the escorts threw in the mud the prisoner. People in the crowd were grunting and jerking.  “That's right, die!” chant the vikings. “Die, die!” “You should be scared.”

Ligeia and Apollo get themself a way in this river of people to be in the front. The movement caught the attention of Ivar, who looked slightly in the direction. Heahmund slowly got on his knees, panting, dry blood on his lips. His eyes immediately landed on Ivar, who was standing above him on his stool, looking at him with an imperceptible arrogant smirk.

He stands up on his feet, hands still chained up, eyes focus on Ivar. He turns around looking at the crowd, King Harald taking place in front of him. A man snarling at his face. When he get back to his position, his eyes cross the amber ones for a split second. He wiped his mouth with his wrist and got closer to Ivar. the cripple man, silenced the people.

“Now we decide whether you'll fight with us... or whether I kill you.” announced Ivar, loud enough for everyone to hear. He let a little blank before continuing. Taking a breath, he slowly placed the tip of a knife against Heahmund abs. “Nothing is keeping you alive but me.” This time, he was only talking to him, almost like a whisper. Heahmund lowered his head and peered at the knife, and looked back to Ivar.

“Why don't you give me the knife?” He says with his deep raspy voice. Ivar’s face softens, a one-sided smile appearing, without a word, he turns the knife, holding it by the blade. Heahmund let a breathy chuckle by the action. He breathed heavily, took it and held it, the blade pointed at him, before facing the crowd. He get closer to the man who was standing there, insulting him.

Ligeia feels the air get stuck in her throat, when he get closer to the man. Her heart beating hard, that she can hear it in her ears, and her heads shaking. She kept repeating herself “What is he going to do? What is he going to do?” At this point she was scrutinizing every part of his body for any kind of message.

“Die! - Are you afraid?” The crowd galvanized by the man’s words. “Do it. Coward!” Bishop’s face changed and turned into a grimace of craziness. Trembling, eyes wide open, he held the back of the man’s neck and planted the weapon in the throat. The man screams of pain and Heahmund spits on his face. Ligeia holds her breath, her hands getting into a fist shape, anger taking place. Heahmund threw the knife with disdainful, smirking. Ivar, shocked for a couple of seconds, started to laugh and applause. “I think he will fight with us!” chanted the viking, opening his arm. The crowd started chanting the bishop’s name. “Heahmund! Heahmund! Heahmund! Heahmund! Heahmund!”

For Ligeia everything went silent, she froze here looking at Heahmund, Ivar sentence looping in her head. “He will fight with us!” thump thump. “If he accepts your offer, nothing will happen to him.” thump thump. “He will fight with us!” thump thump. “He will fight with us!” Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump. “HE WILL FIGHT WITH US!”

“Ligeia!” shouts someone. She takes a deep breath and searches for the voice who called her. Apollo pulled at her hand to get her attention. “Are you alright?” he asks with carefulness. She shook her head, trying to get away this feeling of oppression. “I need to get the fuck out of here!” croaked Ligeia, panic in her voice.

In her mind right now, a lot of different emotions were colliding each other : anger, bitterness, sadness, frustration, the urge to cry and surprisingly, fear. When she pivots to leave, her eyes froze on two icy pearls. She ends the eye-contact and pushes herself in the crowd still cheering for the bishop. Without knowing a lonely tear, slipped on her cheek.

tags : @youbloodymadgenius @al-lwiisa @akaward-potato @funmadnessandbadassvikings @otakufrenchfries @hugopowell @heavenly1927

[capri-ramblings]

Yikes,I know there's bound to be questions but trust me, chapter 3 will answer most of them. Aha,I'm sorry if this chapter is kinda confusing at first,I'm not good at planning out thoughts or stories systemically,it kinda makes it harder for me to write whenever I try to. But here,the second chapter of Raptured! Thank you for reading! ( ꈍᴗꈍ) ♥️

[ R a p t u r e d ]

Chapter 2: Banter

In the moment Riddle had finished telling his brothers what conspired with their human captive, the first to speak up was Azul.

"They offered what?" His words were a mix of shock and amusement, gaze fixated on Riddle who seemed almost flustered from how red his cheeks were.

The red haired sighed, sending him a narrow eyed glare before crossing his arms.

"The head of their own brother"

"By their own hands?" Kalim asked aloud, his features scrunched up worryingly. "Isn't that bad? Why would anyone want to kill their own brother so suddenly?"

From the chaise across the room,Leona let out a scoff, lips upturned into a smirk.

"What are you? A five year old? If you give a herbivore the chance of freedom,they'd leave their entire fleet open to make sure they survive. Humans aren't so different."

"Indeed" Vil joined in with a smile of his own. "Humans are very fickle things, they live out their life struggling and as a result they stink of repulsion."

"They can barely even stand on their own.." Idia added thoughtfully and as the gazes of his brothers turned to him, the flames on his hair flickered and he looked away.

"Maybe the isolation's got to their head?"

Riddle let out a scoff, his lips upturned in a sneer almost too vicious to be formed on such a delicate looking face.

"The cottage they were in was secluded from the rest of the village,they were already a reclusive. Why should it bother them now?"

"Maybe Idia has a point" Kalim interjected then "Before they were on their own by choice...and they weren't exactly trapped in a tower either"

"It's all the same" Leona snapped " Damn herbivores will always be too fragile."

"Though, our soft-shelled brothers have a sound reason" Vil's lips curled in an effortless smile,his ever sharp gaze glinting like jewels.

"At this rate our small hare is going to die before the homage from her brother, and that makes all of this pointless."

The room went silent then. Each males having their own thoughts wrapped around the situation.

When they came to a decision to face the hunter who killed their family beast, he was nowhere to be seen and left tending to his cottage was none other than their captive human, a young sibling unaware of what their fool brother had committed. They opted it was easier to simply kidnap them and have their brother come looking since neither one of them wanted to wait around. There was also the fact that the death of the beast had affected their Mother's health greatly, and all seven brothers fumed with rage.

"Our methods doesn't matter anymore" Riddle spoke up, "What's done is done. We can't exactly just put them back where we found them."

"I agree" Azul said "Though if the human dies in our care now, when we're fully able to change their situation, I fear the price of that loss would be great."

"What? Are the humans going to chase us around with pitchforks?" Leona sneered,his sharp fangs visible as he leaned back into the chaste. "You saw how further in their cottage was, chances are the herbivore doesn't even go down to the village often enough for people to notice them missing."

"They can't die." Idia drawled the words out this time,his gaze sharp and harsh as he stared down Leona who all but grinned at his brother.

"Why? Because you like them?" The laugh that barked out from Leona was cruel and Idia flinched.

"Go ahead and save the poor herbivore then,Prince Idia of the lands of burrowed moles. You think they'd ever look at you fondly?"

"Enough." Riddle came between the fight with his own ire and before he sent a glare towards Leona, he let Idia catch the solace in his.

The situation was getting worst. They needed a decision quick.

"You're not a five year old as well,Leona, so keep that tongue of yours tamed"

"What are you? Suddenly playing the role of the Eldest when you can't even reach his height?" Leona scrutinized Riddle with an aggression that seemed ready to claw him in the face, but Riddle kept his own spite and promptly choose to ignore his brother.

Instead,he turned to Azul.

"The hunter should've came back and see his sibling gone, you even sent those eels of yours to make sure he got the hints. Why hasn't he made a single move? It's been two months."

"Maybe he's forgetful?" Kalim chipped in, eyes glowing. Riddle wanted to tap the side of his face and gently tell him to shut up but Vil patted his head instead.

"A forgetful hunter managing to kill a wild beast is unlikely, mein bruder"

Azul crossed his arms,gaze narrowing.

"They've sent word that they have information regarding our human and the whereabouts of their brother"

"And?" Vil prompted.

"I told them to come meet us as soon as they can, which shouldn't be long."

The moment those words were uttered, a dull thud came from the would-be-entrance of the tower, and a familiar voice calling out.

"My Princes! Open the door please!" The urgency of the voice had all the present Princes turning their head, though the one who seemed genuinely surprised and concerned was Kalim.

"That voice..." He said, turning to Azul "Is that who I think it is?"

Azul's lips curled into a knowing smile and with a flick of his fingers, the sound of a door being swung opened then slammed shut could be heard within the tower itself,followed by light rapid footsteps approaching them.

Out of breath and desperately panting, a young girl made a hasty bow as she came before the Princes, though the way her legs slightly trembled suggested that she was near collapsing.

"It is her!" Kalim's eyes grew wide with familiarity, the worry in his voice replaced with joy as he came up to place his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"The last time I saw you, you were still learning how to walk!" Kalim's loud voice seemed to make her flinch but the girl met his gaze with warmth before she bowed her head again.

"Pleasure to meet you again,Prince Kalim." She's heard stories of him, the Prince Fae known to give out bits of his treasures to those who come wishing at his well. It seemed odd to act as if she's known him, but she knew better than to put logic before courtesy. He was one of the seven Princes after all. Acting too smart with them was a fool's mistake.

Before Kalim could say anything else, Azul stepped forward and the girl promptly met his side with a suddenly serious demeanor.

"I'd ask you for the information I had you fetch but I wonder why you were running in the first place?"

The girl laughed dryly if not nervously.

"Floyd wanted to see who could win in a race in getting here,your Highness."

Azul frowned, internally sighing.

"Why on Earth did you agree to that?"

Again, the girl laughed. "He terrifies me,my Prince."

Riddle couldn't place where he's met her, but hearing her words had him internally sympathising her. Azul's leeches were a pair he'd gladly avoid for eternity as well.

"So,you got a changeling to be at your beck and call as well,Azul?" Vil sounded amused as he turned to Azul, but the degrading glance he gave the girl bellied the smile coyly sitting on his lips then.

"She's indebted to us anyway" Azul stated simply "Why not put her to work?"

His gaze returned to the girl.

"What do you have about our human then?"

It took a full ten minutes for the young changeling to inform them of what she's managed to compile on their human and hunter. Turns out they aren't related by blood but by marriage. Apparently most of the villagers knew of the hunter but rarely saw the younger sibling as they took more liking in staying indoors. There was also talk that their relationship with one another was never close and answered Riddle's question as to why he hadn't showed up yet.

"So, he's just going to leave his sibling at our mercy?" Kalim asked,he had his expression scrunched up with worry and pity again but Leona shared none of it and only growled with distaste.

"There won't be mercy if they're left with us a second longer"

Riddle caught the flicker of Idia's flames and instantly reacted.

"Threaten to murder our captive one more time and I'll have your head,Leona."

"Hah, you're trying to scare me,Riddle?" Leona sneered,fangs glistening with malice. He's been irritated by the whole situation since the beginning. Taking in a human in hopes that another would appear to save them, it was all a damn fairytale. Leona knew humans were selfish, his brothers should've had that piece of common sense drilled into their heads as well. No one was going to play hero for their captive.

Riddle gritted his teeth and again instead of lashing out senselessly, he swirled around to face the changeling. Every bit of his anger flaring in his grey gaze.

"Where's the hunter now?" He asked,though it sounded painfully like a death threat.

The changeling bowed her head.

"He's at the human King's palace,Prince Riddle. King Aothor ...of Nostorne"

The words sent the entire room tilting, and Riddle would've gripped her by her neck if Azul hadn't stepped forward.

"King? Since when did the humans have a King?" The last time they came to the world,their mother's shrine was built almost everywhere to acknowledge her ruling. Had times changed so drastically since their absence?

"Yes. It's been this way for years now. A dukedom raised after Her Most Divine's departure from the human realm and ever since then a lineage of human nobles have taken the throne as the Human ruler."

"My, how futuristic, and here we were in the guise that we still sat on the top of their world" Vil was laughing but his words cut into the tension of the room like a blade coated in venom and the changeling girl shifted uncomfortably.

"It seems like the order of the slaughtering was made by him and ultimately fulfilled by the hunter. His name is Cyril and he's being celebrated by the King for his bravery."

Leona heaved a heavy sigh,leaning once more into his chaise. He looked ready to fall into a deep slumber already but his irritation kept him awake.

"So,we have information. Now what's the plan?"

***

Jade and Floyd,two of Azul's trusted companions came into the situation while the Princes were sorting out their thoughts and opinions (Which all greatly contradict one another) and brought word that their hunter had refused to save their sibling in a conversation Jade overheard him had with another hunter right before he was called on by the King.

"He said he knew of the Fae's trick and that by taking something of theirs as his own, he'd gladly give anything they took from him as compensation." Jade explained in his usual matter-of-fact tone,his mismatched gaze still and knowing.

Riddle clicked his tongue, brows furrowing. Idia's was the most sympathetic along with Kalim while Leona and Vil seemed ready to send a fleet of their army to storm into the human villages.

"I'm not really surprised though" Floyd spoke up lazily "He seems like a guy who'd do that kind of thing anyways"

"But now the Princes are stuck with keeping a human captive in their care", Boe,the young changeling from earlier, pointed out grimly.

"What if we sent you to negotiate with him in our stead?" Idia suggested which earned a rather hasty look from the girl.

"Human royals don't take too kindly to my kind,Prince Idia. I doubt he'd even let me enter"

Leona let out a menacing growl. One that reverberated through the tower walls.

"This is going nowhere. Riddle, go up to that damn herbivore and have them beg their brother come and pay his homage so we can give them back."

Riddle frowned.

"You heard the changeling,Leona. If their relationship with their brother is as bad as we've heard, do you really think they'd beg for him to come save them?"

"Couldn't you talk some sense in them?" Azul had eyes turning once more to the young changeling who all but reluctantly slumped her shoulders.

"I don't see how me being the one talking will get them to cooperate..."

"Clamshell,you should at least try,right?" Floyd's smile was sickly sweet and when he attempted to sling his arm over her shoulders, she avoided the outcome by shifting close to Jade.

"What would you want me to say to them?"

"The offer they gave" Riddle said "Have them elaborate more on that. I'm not going into a deal without knowing why it was proposed in the first place."

There was hesitation in her eyes but it was swiftly changed to a silent resolve as she nodded her head.

"I'll see what I can do."

[yetanotherreader]

Useful—3

Genre: College AU

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/L/N, slight Dean x Lisa

Summary: The school's most popular boy wants to be friends with Y/N, out of the blue. It definitely doesn't have anything to do with her hot best friend, though.

Word Count (For the chapter): 2,712

Warnings (For the chapter): None.

[For some reason, some of the tags aren't working. I'm sorry about that.]

[[ Also I'm sorry for the no Read More thingy because it doesn't happen on the phone app :-(]]

Useful Masterlist

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Mondays.

You dreaded them. For some reason, they were never good. They were sleepy, tiring and grumpy and unfortunately you couldn't do shit about it. You always had to wake up extra early for a hopefully refreshing shower, take the supposed-to-be small bus ride to the uni, which just got longer because of the Monday traffic and run to the lecture hall, only to have the professor glaring at you for coming late to the class.

Mondays.

Today was no different. You woke up extra early, took a hopefully refreshing shower, took the supposed-to-be small bus ride—WHICH was surprisingly not as long as always—and still ran to the lecture hall. Fxckin' tiring mess. The sleepless sleep still showed in your eyes and you would have given anything to have an extra hour for it that morning. But well, same old—Mondays. 

And suddenly, today was different.

"Come on…" A group of annoyed whines were heard from the lecture room just as you entered the hallway.

"What's wrong?" You asked a very pissed Rhea, or was she Akira?

"Morning classes got cancelled. We woke up for nothing."

Honestly.. what the fxck was wrong with the university? Mumbling and whining to yourself, you made your way to the cafeteria, maybe some coffee would help. Tried enjoying the warm sunshine on your face, keyword: tried, as you slowed down your steps near the playground. Or maybe you could just sit in the sun and make the most out of your oh-so-lovely Monday morning? Taking a seat in the bleachers, you decided on reading the book you were, at that time, reading.

Just halfway through the chapter— "Good morning, nerd. I see you're doing some fun stuff over here." You sighed, not wanting to get into any kind of argument at that particular time, or day- or life.

"You're back at it, aren't you?" You looked up at the still smirking Dean, dressed in his black and blue football jersey. A sight for sore eyes.

"Back at what?"

"Being a dick?" You looked back at the book still tired, "Look, Winchester, I'm so not in the brightest Monday sunshine mood right now. Don't bother."

"And here I thought we were friends." He sighed feigning sadness as he turned around to make his way back to the other side of the ground.

"You're here for practice?" He turned back to you, grinning adorably, just as you rolled your eyes.

"Yep but it doesn't start until at least a couple hours."

"Why so early here then?"

"Apparently, there's an emergency board meeting that all the HODs need to attend. So, delayed."

"Oh...that is why" You concluded why your classes got cancelled, "God. Don't you just hate it how they don't inform us about anything beforehand." You groaned.

"Not having the best morning?" He chuckled, as you gestured him to take a seat next to you.

"Nah. I'm the happiest I could ever be," You said with a yawn, "Should we go to the cafeteria before I die or we just let me die?"

"You're such a mood," He laughed toothily shaking his head, "Let us."

Sitting in the cafeteria, you sip on your coffee awkwardly trying to ignore the very obvious gazes of the people around you. You couldn't even make out how Dean looked so unfazed by all the attention, or maybe—obviously, he was used to it.

"You know," Dean started, seemingly, figuring out your awkwardness to ease the tension, "You could have just asked me on a date instead."

You chuckled, thankful for some words, "You wish, Winchester."

"Honestly...I don't" He said winning a laugh out of you.

Time flew by quickly, filled with laughter, corny jokes and sassy remarks with you not even realizing that all that attention didn't bother you anymore. Quite honestly, you didn't even realize they were there. To your surprise, you really did enjoy a Monday morning. 

"Oh," Dean exclaimed as his phone buzzed, "Totally lost track of time. It was fun, but Y/N, I gotta hurry now. I'm late."

"Well I still have an hour to kill. Good luck with the practice."

"Oh yeah, there's still an hour to the class," Dean said as he hurried, "You wanna come see the game?"

"Oh, no no. I don't understand it. I'll rather read my book here."

"Nerd," he smiled at you, "Alright then, see you in the class."

"Yeah" You smiled back, as he went. Maybe Dean wasn't all that bad after all.

You just started with the chapter, again, that you were rudely interrupted... again.

"Look who's trying to get some attention, there. Whatcha think guys? What does she think of Dean's charity? That he got the hots for her or something?" You flinched at the ear-piercing group of laughter came from the direction.

"Tss. Geez, Cassie, mind toning down that screechi- sweet laugh a lil bit? Kinda trying to concentrate." You gave her a sweet smile and turned back to your work.

"Hey, Y/N. How's you? Long time no see." She came and sat where Dean sat not even a couple minutes ago.

"Was doing just good." You muttered as you kept your eyes in your book.

"You were? Obviously, you were," she started taking ahold of Dean's cup, playing with it, "Y/N, stop trying, darling. Dean is very out of league for you. I'm saying for your good."

"Sweets. You know the only reason I'm replying to you, Cassie, is just because it's rude not to?" You looked up at her at annoyed, managing a sarcastically polite smile, "Now if you could excuse me, I'm kinda in the middle of something.

She stood up rolling her eyes as you spoke up again, "And well, don't worry. I'm no threat. Dean and me, nope. Not happening. Also, stop acting like he's your property. The guy's got a life of his own to live, about time, you get one for yourself too."

Before she could retaliate, you made your way out of the door, leaving her processing what you said. Not gonna say that you had got bad blood with her but you had got bad blood with her. Honestly, you wouldn't give two flying shits about her if she wasn't the one with the brilliant idea of throwing you into the pool on your very first day. And if that wasn't enough, she had the nerve to bully you about it for the next few months too. Initially you ignored for a long time, hoping she would end it herself, but was she one to? When you had enough of her shit, all it took, then, was one punch to the wall and an angry 'next time it won't be the wall' for her to stop. Not that she ever was a trouble for you later, but you were her glare dart ever since. You were kinda looking forward to her passing out of the college— one year without her unnecessary glares and hushed whispers but she just had to get a year back for her last year. Oh, your life. 

Practice was tiring, and since they had gotten just one hour for it, they didn't even get any breaks. On top of that, Dean might have sprained his neck. Maybe Y/N's bad day was contagious. Maybe she passed it to him.

Y/N. The thought of her bringing a faint smile on his lips. Damn, she was awesome. He wondered why she kept to herself, her personality sure would get her a lot of friends. That morning, Dean had actually enjoyed himself after a long time. He'd been so lonely for the past few months, he had almost forgotten how to laugh like he did today. She could be an amazing friend. Not to mention, he was still not over how she helped him back at Jo's without even mentioning it once today. Y/N was a good person, he could say that. Mysterious, but nice. He hoped that they actually became really good friends.

His eyes wandered to find her sitting by herself, in a corner as he made his way into the almost empty classroom, "This seat taken?"

She looked up from the book and, for once, smiled, "Hey..yes..no, please sit."

He smiled in return as he sat down beside her, lowly groaning in pain.

"You okay, there?"

"Yeah, I don't know, I think neck strain."

"Oh, geez. Want some help?"

He chuckled humorously, "And what will you do to make it better?"

"Well, they do say I have magic hands." She chuckled in response too, getting up to stand behind him. She started lightly massaging his neck and shoulders, pressing her fingers to his shoulder blades whilst her thumbs worked on his neck. She did the motion a few times as she felt his muscles relax, his knots loosening. He felt himself relaxing, the pain still there but better. How was she always good at whatever she was doing? She stopped her movements abruptly, as he realized a loud moan escaped his lips, only to burst out laughing the next second, "God, Winchester, what the hell?" sounding a little embarrassed.

"S-sorry. Damn it, your fault. What can I say, you do have magic hands." He laughed out, too.

The day went by quite fast after that. They didn't cross paths post the class again. It was the last lecture when Dean met with Cas and Jo. Finally.

"Hey!" Jo chirped as she came after the class, and hugged Dean from behind, Cas copying the action, "Dude?"

"Hey, strangers." Dean said, not in any mood to have a happy-go-lucky conversation with them.

"What's wrong?" Cas asked, clueless. Jo elbowed his ribs gently.

"What's wrong? Nothing." Dean walked ahead, rolling his eyes as the two of them followed him.

"Dean, come on. We're sorry, okay?"

"Well, don't be. Not that it matters anyway." Dean said coming to a stop, "What? You guys didn't go somewhere private, again?"

"Okay, first of all, stop taunting us, jerk. And second of all, we're sorry. We didn't mean to-"

"First of all, don't copy Sammy. And second of all, I called you two how many times, Joanna?"

"What can we do to make it up to you? Jo is right Dean, we're genuinely sorry. We just had a tiring night, so we slept in. Really really tiring." said Cas, blushing a shade of pink, as Dean's lips lifted in a very surprised smile.

"So...you finally, finally did it?" He looked from Cas to Jo grinning, "So you finally did our virgin angel, huh?"

"Shut up" she grumbled, trying to stifle a laugh of her own, blushing a few shades herself, "What about you and the specsy?"

"Who? Y/N? What about us?"

"Don't act innocent, De. Coffee dates and massage and all, huh." She said, cocking her brow, piquing Cas' interest in the conversation too, "Didn't think you'd go for her."

"We're just friends," said Dean, thinking about it from all the angles, "I think."

"You think?"

Dean shrugged, unable to come with a proper answer.

The rest of the day went pretty okay for him. Cas and Jo finally did spend time with him but it wasn't like before at all. They were different and he expected this, as much as he shipped them. They were a couple now, dynamics changed. He wasn't the same for them like earlier, he was the lesser priority. And single.

"So, you're telling me you're single?" You said, surprising yourself with the subtle, unnoticeable relief you felt. Dean and you had bonded pretty well over the past couple of months. You had never thought you two were ever going to be friends, but he was nicer than he made himself look. You learned a few things about him, and about the first day dare too. Oh boi, weren't you just ready to whack his butt with a spoon.

"Yeah. Well, that sounded judgy, Y/N."

You grinned apologetic, "Hee, sorry. It's just it's hard to believe is all."

It was funny how you two became good friends so soon. You were not really one for friends. For a long time, you'd been alone, convincing yourself you liked the quiet. Although you did, it was undeniable how loneliness got to you every time you wanted to talk to someone about something going on in your life, a bad day or even something as normal as your new favorite TV show. It sucked, now that you were admitting to yourself. It sucked how you had no one to talk to. It sucked how you couldn't even complain about it to anyone. And it sucked to spend your weekends alone in your dark room, trying to distract yourself with a book or fanfic, pretending that it was all okay.

And now here you were. Not in a dark room, not alone and not pretending. Here you were actually talking to someone about the random-est things on the planet, laughing with him and actually enjoying yourself. You both still weren't on the we-tell-each-other-everything stage and you highly doubted you ever were going to be but it was still nice. Yeah maybe you hadn't told him shit about yourself yet, but he was still the closest you'd ever been to someone in years. You had Lisa and you cared about her, you did. But where was it written that the person you care about would care about you the same way too? You were never in the list of her priorities, never even close. But she trusted you, and that's why you were...friends? You didn't know exactly. She would come to you after a break up or when she was having a bad day. You had helped her so much, for so many years, it became your instinct to do it. She had friends, she was loved and she had a life you would never. She was Lisa Braeden. She was she, and you were...you. Plain, dull, unattractive Y/N. That's it. That was you in three words. And honestly, you didn't mind. You had come terms with it a long time ago, terms with no one caring about you.

Until two months ago. Dean was a good friend. He was nice, sweet, protective and funny. And most importantly, he...cared. He would tell you jokes on Monday mornings, give you ice pack when your clumsy ass ran into the closed door and invite you for movies with his friends which you always refused to. When Dean realized you didn't like going out with strangers, he invited you over for a movie night to his place. It was, maybe, the sweetest thing someone had ever done for you. He made you snacks and then you guys talked about random things the entire night only to pass out on the couch later. After that, it had become your Friday night tradition.

And with all these sweet things, could you blame yourself for starting to feel something more for him than you should? You, very well, knew this would never happen. Dean had a type, a taste in girls and you were far from that. You had too few/many curves than what looked beautiful, you didn't have the most beautiful hair or skin and you were not pretty. Simple. He would never feel for you. And you, too, only had a silly little crush on him, which would go with time. Right?

You woke up, cuddled with a warm figure on the couch, head under the blanket. You struggled to pop your head out of the covers and once you did, you were met with a beautifully freckled face sleeping soundly. He looked so peaceful that you never wanted to wake him up. Your eyes just briefly glanced at his plump lips, wondering what it would be like to touch them or maybe, feel them against your own? And in a matter of seconds, your eyes were back at the blanket, hiding your little secret you kept from yourself. A secret only your late night or early morning self knew, which you would conveniently deny to yourself later during the day. A secret you would pass off as nothing but your sleepy head's made up story.

Nothing, but a story.

___________

Chapter 4

A/N: Alright, I don't know how it turned out. It took me more than a week for this chapter, and I couldn't even think of anything. I'd write a few sentences and close the document. A writer's block, I think. Well anyway, I didn't have anything in mind so it's mostly a filler chapter which I somehow used to make the little-st progress in the story. Mostly their friendship. I think I'll make it stronger before I do the shit I have planned. Please don't hate me for the chapter coz I already do :')💔

Tag list:

@bi-danvers0 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @itsjaybro16 @mml232 @blablatiti @stilltoomuchafangirl @bat-shark-repellant @bluebell-24 @shortwinchester @always-money-in-the-banana-stand @soullessbabee @ima-be-a-mongoose

[alovesthis]

Your Face, Your Voice — Destiel Drabble

also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29315994?view_adult=true

Summary: He feels it now. Nerves striking up and down his body, his heart pounding against his chest and a weird tumbling in his stomach. His eyes finally reach the glistening blue ones in front of him, the same eyes he's always stared into for years.

Warnings: barn scene? (15.20 episode) angst, slight fluff

Pairing: Destiel

For what felt like forever, Dean kept breathing to try and calm himself down. But each exhale was quivery, and began to hurt. At first, with Sam right in front of him, he didn't want to be left alone. Everything began to hurt and he began to believe that this was it. Everything he had fought for, yearned for was all going to be for nothing. It wasn't until Sam had convinced and fought for his brother's life in that moment. He had left Dean for just a few seconds, running out of the barn in a focused panic. He felt like he was there, alone, forever and that he was going to die without his brother by his side.

His eyes were closed, but the tears continued to escape as they trailed down his cheek. He was growing tired, his lips quivering at the pain that had both kept him awake and slowly end his life. Pure agony; to be alone and dying after everything you've done to protect the world from crumbling. It wasn't fair, and he knew deep down inside that this isn't what he deserved.

Sam still hadn't come back just yet, and it hadn't even been more than five minutes yet. Dean shivered from the pain, but he suddenly felt a whoosh of air against his skin. He flinched, but kept his eyes close. The only sound he heard was someone calling out for his name. A faint smile formed on his lips. Is this what heaven for him sounded like? Was he here with him?

"Dean?"

He didn't want to believe that this was it. He was gone, never saw Sammy again.

"Dean, what happened?"

He didn't want to open his eyes just yet. His voice calling for him was enough.

"Look at me, Dean."

He still felt the sharpness stuck inside his body. His eyes slowly opened, his mouth agape as he gasped.

"Cas?"

Cas takes a step forward and grips Dean's shoulders. They stare into each others eyes, like they were both being hypnotized and moved by the rising heat between each other. Dean closes his eyes and leans into his touch, his heart fluttering both from pain and being with Cas again.

"I'm here, Dean." He assures him. "I need you to listen to me. Open your eyes, keep them on me."

"Cas, I-"

"Don't speak. Please, just focus on me. It's going to hurt, but I promise you Dean, I'm here. It won't hurt after."

"Are we going up together?" He closes his eyes. "You know, heaven. If it's still there."

"Dean, just focus on me." He repeats. "You're still here, still..."

He takes a few seconds to breathe before he grips onto Dean harder, and nods. "I need you to be ready, so just push through this. Keep fighting like you always do. Okay?"

Dean nods his head profusely and opens his eyes again. Cas pulls on his body, trying to take his body off the the rebar. Dean lets out a deep groan, almost yelling through the pain. His face winces, tightly squeezing onto Cas's waist, bunching up the trench coat. Cas's eyes begin to tear up as he watches the man he loves protest in undeniable pain. He whispers soft words of encouragement, making sure Dean knew he was strong enough to get through this. To make sure that Dean is worth saving and has a life he deserves to live.

Suddenly, Dean fell into Cas's arms as they both stumble for just a moment. Dean's eyes are still closed, but open slightly when he sees a glowing blue light in front of him. Cas moves his hands from his shoulders, placing one hand behind Dean where the rebar was and the other now on his heart. He was healing him. Cas still has tears in his eyes, and Dean exhales a shaken laugh.

Dean's hand shot straight up to his chest, his eyes widening in hope. There was no more pain. He was okay, alive and it was all because of Cas.

"You're here." Dean says.

"I'm here, Dean. We both are."

"Cas...what you told me. Every single word, every second..."

"It's okay, we don't need-"

"It's your turn to listen to me now." He softly says, as he raises his hands to Cas's cheek. "You told me there was one thing you want and that you couldn't have it. But you're here now, alive. And so am I. You have me. We get to live now, and you taught me that we deserve it. Cas, thank you."

"You do deserve it, Dean."

Cas pulls Dean into a hug by his waist, not wanting to let him go.

"Thank you." Dean breaths out, squeezing Cas tight between his shoulder blades right where his wings begin. Dean can't feel them, or see them, but his wings start to flutter as Cas feels a gentle kiss on his jaw, right where his ear is. "It's because of you that I'm okay."

"Yes, but..." Cas pulls away, even though he doesn't want to. He stares into his eyes, his stoic face now softened as he takes in the beauty that is Dean Winchester. "It's because you never stopped. You kept fighting, and now you get to live."

"What about you? You gonna stick around? For good?" His voice sounds like he's pleading, wanting Cas to stay.

"I'm not going anywhere." His eyes light up with happiness.

"Before...you know, when you saved me." Dean begins, slowly taking his time with words trying to register his own thoughts at the same time. "You told me that happiness isn't in the having, but in the being. In saying it."

"I remember."

Now, their hands are at their sides but they still stand close in front of each other. Cas continues to stare at Dean's freckled face -- he looks exhausted, but ready to leave everything behind. Dean uses his eyes to look up and down, all over, trying to run through his thoughts. He feels it now. Nerves striking up and down his body, his heart pounding against his chest and a weird tumbling in his stomach.

His eyes finally reach the glistening blue ones in front of him, the same eyes he's always stared into for years. What felt like forever, they finally get to see each others face. The way Cas sees Dean, his hard exterior now relaxed and at peace. A hero with many scars, but still beautiful. His deep voice suddenly soft and quiet. And the way Dean sees Cas. Also hero, an angel...someone Dean can always count on. The strength, the vision of the most handsome and graceful angel- person- he's ever seen and got to know.

The feelings now incredibly intensified, making Dean feel things he's always felt but now much more clear. He was ready; to be brave and speak his truth like Cas had. If he could do it, so can he. He's always learned from Cas, and that was never going to stop.

"But I think we can have and deserve to have it. To live it. To say it. Cas..." Dean takes a step forward and gently grabs his face. "I thought I was never gonna see you again. Cas, man, I love you. I've missed you, everything..."

"Dean?" Cas stares at him. He can't believe it. Is this real? Is he really alive, standing in front of the man he's always loved and having him reciprocate feelings. Dean loves him.

"I do. I should've said it then, but I'm saying it now. I want you to know because you freaking deserve it too. I love you Cas.”

Cas leans into his palms that are pressed against his cheeks, closing his eyes for just a second to absorb his truth and the love Dean radiates. Dean takes this moment to catch both Cas and himself in surprise. Closing his eyes too, to take it all in, Dean leans into Cas and presses his lips against his. Both of their eyebrows furrow in concentration on the fluttering they feel in both their hearts. Bodies close, hearts beating and a moment of happiness shining through. They're both alive, free to live all doing it together. And that's all they've truly wanted.

Sam stands by the barn door, looking in with faint smile at his brother and Castiel. It gives him hope, a sign for him that he deserves what they have right now too. Eileen. Clutching the first aid kit in his hands, he looks down and exhales a silent smile and walks back to the impala to wait for them, no matter how long that'll be. Dean's safe. Cas is back and alive. And so is Eileen.

They pull away from each other, both letting out a soft chuckle of disbelief. Without any words, Dean takes a hold of Cas' shoulder and smiles. Their eyes still glisten from the tears before, lips still pursed and reddened from the kiss. The feeling doesn't fade but instead sinks into each of their hearts as they walk closely together, out of the barn and into the next phase of their life.

———

Again, just a little Drabble for my OTP. I’m also on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/womanwhowritesformany/pseuds/womanwhowritesformany

[shall-we-imagine]

Loosen up. (Bodyguard!Klaus Goldstein x Reader)

Requested: 66. "I like you. You're different." + 73. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions." From the promt list.

Genre: Fluff/idk if this also counts as suggestive? Only if you're very innocent I guess? And if you're on tumblr then you probably aren't so nvm 😂

A/N: sorry for being so inactive lately I've been busy with studying and such so I generally couldn't find it in me to write so yeah :/ (I have a trial tomorrow so like idk pray for me 😂) but here I am! ヽ(゜～゜o)ノ Also yes I'm aware this isn't how Vincent acts and he's not filthy rich but for now we're gonna let it slide okay? Cool. 😂

(Second Person Point of View)

"That's when I decided it was time to buy my fifth car; I mean who attends their first day of college with the same old cars, right?" The man laughs. You suspected that if he stopped boasting for longer than 2 seconds, he'd suffocate and die. You kind of hoped to witness that.

It'd been 2 hours already, yet you weren't allowed to leave the party until your dad says you could. You'd even tried to convince your bodyguard to let you leave without your father knowing anything of the incident, but Klaus was far too strict and responsible; he'd never do such a reckless thing.

Yeah, sure, it's good for your dad to have found such a trustworthy employee, but when you've been stuck talking to these blatantly boring and arrogant people that only viewed you as a good deal to obtain more wealth, well, let's just say: it makes you sort of wish Klaus cared less.

However, that was not the case. In fact, while all bodyguards waited outside, Klaus remained inside -only a few feet away from you at any given time. He also seemed to always be giving you a look that could only be describe as the look a mother gives when you have people over, and she's daring you to mess anything up.

Now, you weren't the stereotypical bratty child that refuses to take over their parents' company. You knew your responsibility and always hoped to make them proud; you just weren't a big fan of the world surrounding all the important people in business. Therefore, it made you yearn for messing around from time to time.

Today was one of those days. You so desperately hoped Klaus would get off your back for even just a few moments, so you could escape the exhausting setting. But he continued with the angry-mother-glare; it almost seemed like he'd gotten the expression tattooed on his face after the endless times he had to get you out of trouble.

There was definitely a bright side to that extra attention, though. You suspected Klaus had a thing for you. After all, he was known to be very good at his job; he could easily quit and get a job less demanding with an equal pay or even a bigger pay if he wanted, but he didn't. He decides to stay with a teenage girl that enjoys pushing his buttons. He was professional, so he wouldn't say anything or let it show, but you had this feeling in your guts that he at least felt intrigued by you.

And, surely, you were ready to use this to your advantage.

You glance towards the blond at the corner of the room, ensuring he was still staring (threateningly, but still staring nevertheless). His eyebrow arches slightly, sensing you were about to do something dumb. You could almost hear him think God, what is it this time?!

You focus your attention back on the man whose name you'd forgotten about 2 seconds after he introduced himself.

"So, I heard you're staying at the hotel here for the entire duration of the event." You smile sweetly.

"Yeah, I am." He takes a sip out of his drink.

You begin flirtatiously twirling a strand of your hair. "Well, how about you take me to have a look upstairs?"

Startled by the unexpected implications of your request, he chokes on his drink and starts coughing. You try your best not to appear disgusted, giving him a smile when he's done with his coughing session.

Sure enough, he agrees and links your arms together, leading you towards the exit of the section the party was held in.

"Miss (Y/N)," Klaus speaks through gritted teeth. He wore a smile and kept his voice quiet, but there was no denying he was ready to scold you. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Upstairs." You smile, playing dumb.

"What do you mean up-" after losing his calm for a second, Klaus cuts himself off to take a deep breath and let it out before proceeding. "Would you please excuse us, Mr. Knight?" Klaus bows lightly before dragging you to an empty corner.

"You think just because you're leaving with a guest, I'll allow you to go?" Klaus whispers in annoyance.

"What? Are you jealous?" You wiggle an eyebrow at him, knowing well enough that wasn't the reason (well, not the main one, at least).

Lips pulled into a pained smile, Klaus glares. "Are you asking for an insult? I think you're abusing that service I provide for you a hundred times per minute."

"Come on, Klausie; loosen up." You poke his chest with your index finger. You knew the redhead -or Mr. Knight- was probably still waiting for you, but you couldn't care less. You wanted to stretch out the process of bugging Klaus as long as possible, since it was the only way to spend time with him. It was also fun watching his nose scrunch and his eyebrows furrow in such anger. He would try to mask his frustration, but it was obvious he had a short temper when it came to you. To put it nicely, he was done with your shit.

"Don't, under any circumstances, call me Klausie." He threatens. "And I don't need to loosen up; you need to stop being so careless!"

"Sure." Rolling your eyes, you step away from him.

Before you could take two full steps, Klaus had already grabbed your arm. "Going somewhere?"

You pull your hand away. "The bathroom. Am I not allowed to answer the call of nature either?" You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"Touché." He raises his hands in defeat, but once you begin walking away, he follows.

"Where are you going?"

"Just ensuring you don't get any funny ideas." He shrugs.

Huffing, you decide to ignore him. Thankfully, he was only planning to stand near the door; it didn't seem too strange imagining Klaus walking in for "safety measures": the guy was crazy when it came to his job.

"Man, another pretty dress gone to waste." You sigh, looking into the mirror. The sparkling violet fabric clung onto your body till your waist then flowed freely, reaching to merely graze the floor. It was one of the dresses you really liked; you loved the way it showed your shoulder blades and only a portion of your back; it was sexy yet classy. The glittery purple was certainly your colour too! Alas, your dad would scold you for rewearing a dress more than he would scold you if you were to kill a person (as long as you've hidden the evidence well, that is). Murder can be covered up, but 'horrible fashion choices' cannot be hidden, according to your father. Sometimes you went against that, but most of the time, you just complied, even though it's an absolute waste of money.

"You're taking too long, you know that?" Klaus calls from outside, impatience clear in his voice.

You bite back a response when you realize there's something much better you could do. Quietly checking the stalls, you ensure you're 100% alone inside.

"Could there be a valid reason you're not responding to me?!"

Ignoring his question, you just scream in response. "Klaus! Klaus, help me!" You screech frantically.

The door bursts open, and Klaus steps inside aggressively. Before he could realize what's happening, you push him back against the door, slamming it behind him.

Smug about catching him off guard, you smirk at the taller male, whose body was closely pressed against yours. "Were you worried?" You tease.

"About losing my job? Yeah." He scoffs, turning his head away from you but not bothering to push you away.

"Why is it always about the job?" You tilt your head to meet his eyes again.

"Because I'm at work?" He states with a raised eyebrow, as if it sounded stupid for you to even ask that.

You run your hands gently over his chest; even through layers of clothing, you could still feel the firm muscles concealed by the black suit. "Well, maybe it's time for a break." You grin innocently.

"You do know you can't fool me, right?" He takes one of your hands away from him but doesn't let go of it.

Rolling your eyes, you move away from him. "I'm not fooling you; I want us to have fun! Neither one of us is enjoying this anyway." You cross your arms.

An unexpected response sparks excitement within you. "Well, what do you suggest we do?" You knew he was only being sarcastic, but it gave you a pathway for more methods to push his buttons and witness his reactions.

Closing the distance between both of you once more, you stand on the tip of your toes as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. "Oh, I have a lot of suggestions." You whisper in his ear, feeling him flinch lightly at your suggestive remark. You could tell he was trying to hide it and pretend he wasn't phased, but you'd already noticed it, and he knew it.

"You're gonna get me fired." Cheeks slightly red, he turns his head away and gently parts your bodies from each other. "God, why is it so hard to handle you? It's like dealing with a troublemaking child."

"You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions." You stick your tongue out at him. "Plus, father won't know anything if neither one of us told him." You point out what seemed to have escaped Klaus's perception of the situation.

"You want me to lie to your father." He laughs in disbelief.

"Mmhm, not quite. More like not telling him the full truth."

"That's exactly what lying is."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No."

"Yes."

"Okay, stop! Fine, lie! I don't know!" You fling your arms in the air out of frustration. A novel sound catches your attention, immediately flushing away the frustration. Klaus was laughing. Not sarcastically. No, a genuine laugh was echoing across the bathroom.

"I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing if we talk a walk for some fresh air and come back." He smiles. "Just this time though!"

An uncontrollable grin spreads across your face, and you immediately throw your arms around Klaus. "Thank you!"

"You gotta stop..doing..this.." He awkwardly pats your back, careful not to touch your bare skin.

"No promises!" You shrug, before grabbing his hand and rushing outside, making your way to the exit.

"Miss (Y/N)?" You freeze in your spot. "Where are you going?"

"Oh, um.." you stutter, not expecting to have to explain yourself to your companion from earlier.

"We got an emergency call; we'll be right back." Klaus, in his usual composed state, 'explains' to Mr. Knight.

"Ah, I see." Red head may be an idiot, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell something wasn't right, but he either chose to let it slide or he just didn't care. Regardless, you were thankful. "I'll be waiting for your return then." With a smile and a bow, he left and disappeared into the crowd.

"You'll catch a cold." Klaus states, watching you twirl and run around in the chilly October weather.

You weren't cold, or maybe you didn't dislike being cold. It wasn't the type of cold to make you unable to take a few proper steps and force you to do an awkward penguin walk; rather, it was the type of cold to merely caress your skin, decorating it with goosebumps. "Don't worry; I'm alright."

"Just take my jacket. Your back and shoulders are exposed; you must be cold." He spoke with such certainty that it almost made you rethink for a few moments about whether you actually felt cold or not.

"Are you worried or are you just intimidated by how sexy I look?" You strike a pose far from seducing.

Klaus, who had his jacket held out for you, resumed walking as he put his jacket back on. "You know, on second thought, it might be a good thing if you catch a cold and stay at home for a week or so." He passes by you, leaving you and your sexy pose alone.

"Hey! That was mean!" You catch up to him.

"Nothing new, then." He shrugs, a slight smirk forcing itself onto his pink lips.

You speed up a little then turn around to face him once you're slightly ahead of him; you remain walking, but backwards this time, allowing yourself to look at him during the conversation. "How could you be mean to such a beautiful lady?" You pout.

"What beautiful lady?" He looks around, pretending to search for something.

You let out a dramatic gasp. "How could y-" Your sentence was inconveniently cut off by your stumble; or perhaps, it was a slightly convenient situation when you think about it from a different perspective: Klaus, as sharp as usual, was able to grasp your arm, preventing you from falling.

"Uh, thanks." You breathe out, nodding slightly. Once you begin to straighten yourself up, Klaus lets go of your arm, only to watch you fall to the ground immediately after. "I think my heel broke.." you frown, staring at your left shoe, now with its heel lying a few inches away.

"You think?" Klaus earns a glare, urging him to put aside the sarcasm and help you up.

"Those were such a cute pair.." you sigh, placing your arm around Klaus's shoulder for support. Your arms were already hurting due to the height difference; it was like hanging from a cliff but not quite.

Klaus places an arm around your waist. "Well, I can buy you another one. You need another pair to get back to the party anyway."

"What if I don't?"

"Don't what? Get back to the party? That's not what we agreed on! Your father-"

You cut off his rant, "We'll get back there, and I'll call dad and inform him that my heel broke; he'd immediately allow me to leave. It's already late anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

######

"Yes, Klaus, I'm sure he'd let me go home if I tell him my heel broke! Of course, Klaus, there's no way he would have some other plans for me!" Your bodyguard mimicks your voice and tone (terribly), as you sit in the back of the car your dad sent with a brand new pair of shoes.

"How would I have known he would do this?!" You complain, tightening the straps of the new shoes around your ankle.

"Well, hurry up, knight dude is probably waiting for you." Arms crossed, he taps his foot impatiently. You merely groan in response.

"I can't believe he didn't even tell me he booked a room for me at the hotel! And that I have to attend the same event tomorrow too! I didn't even bring any change!"

"Um, Miss (Y/N), your father asked me to hand you this too.." the driver quietly places a small suitcase on the back seat next to you.

"There you go; he packed stuff for you." You weren't sure if Klaus was trying to tease you or comfort you, but either way, you just let out a sigh.

After a long, mentally and physically exhausting night, you were finally allowed to leave. And boy, were you delighted to recieve the news.

"This one." You pause in front of the room that had the same number on the keycard. Klaus had already placed your bag inside earlier, but it was your first time viewing the room. "At least the room is pretty." You shrug.

"Didn't think you'd admit it." Klaus chuckles. "Well, I have to go; so, good night, Miss (Y/N); I'll be back here tomorrow." He bows.

"Wait!" You stop him before he steps outside the room.

As I have reached the 100 block limit, I'll complete this in Part 2...which I'll literally post now and it'll be shorter than this cuz it's just the ending 😂

[haipain]

hey! may i request a scenario in which akaashi's fem!s/o is suffering from mild depression and distances herself from him because she doesn't want to burden him with her negativity, but when he confronts her about it, she just pretends she's fine ? is this angsty enough... also good luck on your blog, love !! 💓already love ur writing

oof, you sure know where to hit! i hope i didn’t misportray depression, because that is the last thing i want to do! but still, i hope you enjoy! thank you for the well wishes aaaa and thanks for loving my writing!1!1 i love you

Her mind is numb and her body heavy. She drags her hand along the quilts on her bed, watching the folds coming together, reaching out to clench them in her hands, balling them tightly. Then she relaxes, and stares up at the ceiling, eyes glued to the spinning fan above her, soft sounds of wind being sliced with the blade of fan soothing her ever so slightly.

Ah, again. I skipped school again.

In all honesty, it was never this bad. She had small, dark thoughts that nagged at the back of her brain every once in awhile, biting at her inadequacy and slowly draining her soul of energy, just like a cold drip coffee. Drip, drip, drip. But it hadn’t gotten to the point where she absolutely had no motivation to get out of bed and do what was expected of her - expected of a student. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was that caused her to feel so terribly fatigued, and it didn’t really matter to her. She just chalked it up to not having a reason to feel this way, it is just what it is.

She’s exhausted. 

She slides her eyes shut, letting a soft sigh slip out of her mouth. The first person that floats to her mind was Akaashi. In her mind, he looks stunning. Not that he wasn’t stunning in real life, but she just hadn’t seen him enough for the past few weeks to tell the minuscule changes in him that would occur with the passing of time. The way he moves, the intonation of his voice, that faint quirk of the lips when he sees something amusing… It is then she concludes. 

He doesn’t deserve this.

It was a bad habit of hers; she had the tendency to assume, and try to take the best course of action if it meant protecting herself. In this case, it would be protecting Akaashi, someone she holds dear to her. He didn’t deserve the kind of negativity emanating from her right now, in fact, no one did. But he was the last person she’d want to burden the little packages of evil that came along with her.

It wasn’t a one for one deal, and as much as she missed him, she had to restrain herself. Besides, another thing she feared was her blurting out something that would lead to the ruining of the relationship. If there’s one thing she didn’t want, that would be it.

“Akaashi,” she groans, pressing her forearm into her eyes, the pressure comforting yet slightly painful as she continued pushing. And then, “Akaashi,” she says, a little louder this time round, proclaiming to no one in particular.

“Yes?”

The muscles in her body tense, and she shoots up. Her forearm falls from her face, and she sees him at her doorway, eyes lidded and seemingly tinged with worry. 

“May I enter?” He speaks, and a shudder runs up her body. He was breathtaking, and just his voice alone, was more than enough to send tingles up her body, momentarily jolting her limbs.

She was tempted to nod, but catches herself just in time. “No, please leave me alone,” she forces out, removing her tongue that was glued to the roof of her mouth by sticky saliva. 

Akaashi Keiji does not step in where unnecessary. He takes action when he feels there’s a need for him to, and this just happened to be one of those times. So he does, stepping  past the doorway, and approached her, mouth pressed in a hard line.

“You’re not okay,” he states bluntly. She flinches, drawing out a breath, expelling a nasal sounding laugh out of her throat. 

“I am though?”

Lies. Her voice shakes a little, and for a second it sounded as though she was going to cry, Akaashi could tell. He moves further into the room, inching closer and closer to her side. His eyes were now clouded with doubt, his mouth slowly relaxing into a downturned smile and she refused to meet his eyes, afraid to see whatever pending judgements in those blue eyes of his. 

“Look at me,” he states softly, reaching his hands forward to tip her chin upwards. “Please tell me what is wrong,” he quizzes, his other hand moving to stroke her hair. He had an inkling of what was happening, but Akaashi didn’t want to assume. He wanted to hear it from the person herself, and he’s resolved to help her in any way possible.

The warmth of his hands spreads through her scalp, and it makes her feel comforted. Yet, it was also so, so terrifying. Because, did she really have the right to possess him and spill everything to him, forcefully throwing the burden onto his back? They were lovers, of course, but at the same time, they were two separate people, and no matter how in love they were, it just didn’t seem right to let him shoulder her fears and worries like so.

And with a watery smile, she finally gazes into his eyes, tears obscuring her view of him. “I’m really alright.”

[rreader]

can we get some more khal drogo up in here? you're such a talented writer. like i legit binged so much on here. fantastic job! could i request one where drogo encounters an equally large khalasar and defeats the other older khal. he ends up taking the eldest daughter as a bride and she is just a spitfire and doesn't like him at all until some of the members of the khalasar try to get a little rowdy with her and he shuts it down super quick and she realizes he's not that bad? thanks, dearie!! 😘

Pairing: Khal Drogo x ReaderFandom: GoT ; ASoIaFWarnings: language ; violence ; attempt of sexual assault (nothing graphic)

Summary: When Khal Drogo defeats your father in a duel, he has the choice of becoming your new Khal, or becoming your husband. He chooses marrying you.

A/N: awww, thank you sooo much my darling! I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself! I really hope that you like this one as well. khal drogo stories are always a bit of a challenge for me, but like last time, I hope I did him credit! (also, please imagine everything spoken in Dothraki. Unfortunately, my Dothraki is non-existent, so I have to settle for English lol)

                                                        *****

Yourfather had never been a kind man. He had hurt many people in his years as a Khal.

Thankfully, henever laid a hand on you. Nevertheless, what he did to hisenemies scared you. And what he did to those who betrayed him scaredyou even more.

Andwhen one day another Khal entered your camp and challenged yourfather, you had a hard time watching the fight, knowing that yourfather wouldn’t simply ‘strike him down’ at the end of the fight, like any other Khal would..

No.. he was ruthless. He’d hurt him in ways that the other Khal couldn’t even imagine.

Yourbrother, standing next to you, had a smug grin on his face, his eyesnever leaving the two men in front of him.

He’dbe like your father one day.. unfortunately.

Andthat one second that you didn’t have your eyes on your father and theother Khal, was the second that you could hear your father scream inagony.

Theeyes of your brother widened, before he stormed towards the otherKhal and shoved him away, kneeling next to your father, the bladesticking out of his stomach.

You,unlike your brother, didn’t feel sadness, nor anger.

Theonly sadness you felt was for your little brother. For having lost his heroin front of his eyes.

Theother Khal threw up his hands triumphantly, walked up to one of thewoman of his clan and kissed her roughly, before turning his head toyou, a wicked smile on his face.

Yoursisters hid behind you, your other brother standing protectively infront of them.

Butyou only straightened your back, your hands confident behind your back.

“Congratulationsare in order.”

“You.I want you.”

You walked down the podium you had been standing on,until you were face to face with him.

“Isee. Am I your prize then?” no emotions whatsoever could be detected on your face.

“Yes.”

Younarrowed your eyes at him and then looked at your brother, stillcowering over the corpse of your father.

Hewas of age and a skilled warrior. Respected by the others. They would easily follow him if you left.

Andif you went with that other Khal, that meant that your siblings and your peoplecould stay here, on their own, without being bothered by this otherKhal or his clan.

Logically,it was the best for your people.. your family.

Personally,it wasn’t something you wanted for yourself. You might not have likedyour father, but marrying the man that killed him wasn’t exactlysomething you wanted either.

Butyou had always been one that put others before herself.

Soyou turned your head to the other Khal and nodded.

“Alright.I will come with you, if you leave my clan alone. Let my brother bethe new khalakka.”

Drogofirst looked at you, then at the young man who stared at him in return, such rage in his eyes.

Helaughed and nodded.

“Yes.”

Hehoped he’d encounter the boy again one day. He’d kill him just like hisfather.

Itwould bring him more honor than he already had.

Andso it was decided.

You’dbecome the wife of Khal Drogo.

                                                            ***

Theride back to their encampment had been long.

Youwere exhausted and just wanted to lie down and sleep for the nextdays.

Butyour husband-to-be seemed to have other ideas.

Thesecond you got off your horse, he pulled you aside to get the weddingceremony started. But it was also the second that you pulled your armout of his grip. You were both standing behind one of the tents,separated from the others of his clan. You needed to make himunderstand that you wouldn’t be the submissive wife that he probablywanted you to be… thought you would be. However, you also didn’t want to make him look badin front of his clan, so this little bit of privacy was appreciated.

“No,” you said, but he only grunted in return and wanted to grab your arm once more, but you took a stepback, “Listen to me very carefully. I don’t know what you expectedor wanted me to be, but I’m not the obedient kind of woman that let’syou fuck her every time you want to, that let’s you treat her like scumand doesn’t do anything about it. I agreed to come with you for thegood of my clan, so I will stay with you… but not as your slave.”

Fora second, Drogo thought about putting you back in your place. Butthere was this.. fire in your eyes. Fire, he hadn’t seen in a longtime and certainly not in a woman.

Womenusually cowered before him and, as you said, were the submissiveones.

Thefact that you weren’t turned him on like crazy.

Hestarted grinning, bit his lip and looked you up and down. He couldn’twait to fuck you.

He’d give you your night’s rest. Fucking you would be a lot moreenjoyable then, anyways.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,”you agreed, turned around and walked away.

Youhadn’t expected it to go this smoothly. 

But only because he gave youthis one night didn’t mean that you suddenly started to like him.

Hewas still a bastard in your eyes and had to prove himself to you in other ways to earn your approval.

                                                   the next day

Youstood in his massive tent, your fingertips running along the silk ofyour dress.

Howhe managed to get you a dress like this in one day? You had no idea.

Butyou felt like a goddess, ready to take on the world.

“So..you’re going to be the next khaleesi,” a man’s voice said. When youturned around, you found four men standing in front of you, all armedto the teeth.

“Iam,” you said confidently.

Theyall eyed you like you were a horse on the market.

You’vehad experiences with men like these before.

However, most hadn’t been foolish enough to try to force themselves onto the daughterof one of the most feared Khal’s of the region. And if they were..well.. let’s just say your father always made good examples out of those who disrespected his children.

“Maybewe should see if you’re worthy for our great Khal. Wouldn’t want himto be disappointed, after all.”

Theydidn’t even have the chance to approach you, when Drogo entered thetent, two men behind him, hair almost as long as his own.

Youcocked your head to the side, waited for what would happen next.

Drogodidn’t say a word. He only grunted in anger, which made all of themen jump in surprise and turn around instantly.

“KhalDrogo!”

Hegrabbed his dagger from his belt, turned the man around so he wasfacing you and slit his throat, all the while looking at you.

Youdidn’t flinch, didn’t blink. You watched the first man bleed out infront of you, then the next, until they were all dead on the floor. And not once had you looked away.

Oh, he had definitely found the right woman.

ThenDrogo walked outside again.

“I’llslaughter everyone who dares to touch her,” he screamed, blood allover his chest and face.

Andwhen he walked back inside, his men already dragging out the corpses, youslowly walked up to him and put your hands on his cheeks.

Wordswere meaningless. Gestures, on the other hand..

Youput your lips on his, his tongue finding its’ way into yourmouth in a heartbeat, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight against his body.

Theblood was now getting all over your dress and probably also yourface, but you always knew that, if you ever became a khaleesi, youwouldn’t be one of those silent lambs that were only good forfucking. You’d be more like your mother.

Fierce,a warrior herself, never backing down from a fight.. ruthless, if shehad to be. Kind, if she could.

You’dbe the wife that Drogo never expected or probably wanted to have, butwas still grateful for.

Becausewith you by his side, he would do things he hadn’t thought possible.

You’dgive him the strength, once your bond was unbreakable.

AndDrogo wasn’t the husband that you’d thought you’d end up with, but hejust proved to you that, while you initially weren’t too happy aboutthis marriage, he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was..

Perhapsyou might even grow to love him one day..

[aceprosecuties]

I totally agree with Simon being the sensitive one about this sort of things. Nayuta is probably the one who start to crying only due a lot of mental stress, is not that emotion doesn't affect him, is just he can handle it well. I think that when he start to cry he is that type who cry a lot actually, because he had a lot of repressed stress, and emotion and things. But anyways, it's hard try to imagine Nayuta crying (bonus Simon will totally panicking seeing his boyfriend crying)

YESSSS

Simon goes to visit Nahyuta in Khura’in; it is a scheduled visit, but things keep coming up that Nahyuta, as the king regent, needs to deal with.  Simon, although sad that Nahyuta keeps having to leave him (and a bit annoyed whenever some other minister comes by to tell him there’s some sort of issue), has resigned himself to the fact that this is part of what Nahyuta is responsible for, and so he knows he must deal with it. 

So, while Nahyuta is in yet another meeting (something about an ambassador, Simon kind of tuned out when the minister started explaining), Simon ended up going to Justice’s law office and bumming around with him.  Although Apollo insisted that he had a ton of work to do, Simon actually was able to help him out to get some things done earlier and then forced Apollo to eat dinner with him, because “your brother has blown me off yet again.” 

Night eventually comes and Apollo thanks Simon for all his help and just tells him to try and be patient with Nahyuta’s responsibilities, and Simon laughs, saying, “that’s why I came to you, Justice-dono.  You make for good company.”  Apollo kind of smiles from the compliment, but then he frowns, because Simon follows it with, “a pity your blade hasn’t gotten much sharper since you’ve left though.”  Of course, he was joking, but it was still funny to him. 

He expects Nahyuta to be back by the time he returns to the room they’re sharing in the palace but he’s still gone.  Simon just sighs irritably and, after talking a bit with Athena via text, forces himself to sleep. 

It is maybe two in the morning when he hears someone come in; Nahyuta wasn’t exactly trying to be quiet, after all, and didn’t even flinch when Simon shot up from the bed, his hair wild and poofy.

(cut for length!)

“Damn, are you just getting back now?” 

“Yes.” 

Nahyuta sits at the foot of the bed, hunched over as he leans his elbows on his knees. Simon tries to blink the sleepiness out of his eyes, because all of a sudden he could have sworn he saw Nahyuta’s shoulders begin to shake slightly. 

“Nahyuta?”

But the monk doesn’t answer and doesn’t turn to face him, and Simon hears a soft sniffling sound; his brain processes the sound slowly than it would have if he had been fully alert, but once it does, and he realizes that Nahyuta is crying, he shoots out of the bed to run around and stand in front of his boyfriend. 

“Don’t,” Nahyuta stammers when Simon reaches out to touch him.  Of course, Simon obliges, but he gets down on his knees so he could see Nahyuta a bit better than he would be able to standing above him.  

Not that Nahyuta gives him a chance, because he is soon just sobbing, with his face buried in his hands because he doesn’t want Simon to see him right now.  He is sobbing hard, so much so that it gives him a headache and his throat hurts and all he wants is to disappear. 

Of course Simon is freaking out because he’s never seen Nahyuta cry and he doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries, but he also knows he can’t just sit here and watch as Nahyuta keeps just weeping into his hands.  He whispers his name quietly and puts a hand on Nahyuta’s knee, wanting to test out if that contact was okay.  When nothing changed, he decides to go a bit further.  

Simon repeats Nahyuta’s name softly, and stands while trying to take his boyfriend’s hands away from his face.  At first, Nahyuta resists, but the way Simon says his name eventually helps the worst to pass, and he allows Simon to take his hands and bring them into his lap.  However, Nahyuta still turns his head away.  He doesn’t look regal or otherworldly right now, and he knows it, and hates himself for it just a little bit, even if only Simon is the one to see him like this. 

But then Simon moves some of Nahyuta’s lilac hair out of his face, and Nahyuta’s eyes are brought back up to meet Simon’s gaze.  Simon’s hand holds Nahyuta’s cheek, and he finds himself resting against it, feeling exhausted after such a hard cry.  

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Nahyuta shakes his head; not right now.  He doesn’t want to go into how he feels guilty for leaving Simon all alone, or how he still can’t seem to connect with Rayfa, or how Ga’ran’s influence is still felt in his kingdom and how some people - for reasons unknown to him - still believe him to be her puppet working against his mother and sister.  That last one was what set him over this edge; even after getting out of her clutches, his despicable aunt still hung her shadow over him, and he wondered if he would ever be able to escape it. 

But...looking into Simon’s dark eyes is comforting.  They are dark and beautiful, like the blackness of night, shining with stars that signify a deep caring and love unlike Nahyuta’s ever felt before.  

“I just want to sleep,” Nahyuta softly says, and Simon nods.  The king regent is suddenly getting picked up and laid down on the pillows of the bed; his shoes are coming off, and Simon then lays down next to him, pulling apart his braid gently.  

And when he feels Simon’s arms around him, Nahyuta knows that all will be okay, in the end.