#also I figured out how to get 2763 to work

[theosdoor]

BFDI:TPOT 1^2: Something Terrible is Brewing

Also Zro x 15 under the cut

[howardpotts]

A Little Spark - Part 3

The Secret

Summary: You’re training and get interrupted by Thor to show him your powers. He senses there’s something else and asks for your trust. 

Wordcount: 2763

Warnings: Angst I think

A/N: Ahhhh so from here we’re actually taking off with the story. The first 2 parts was just shameful smut, but now we’re diving in to an interesting story. I hope you think the same. Let me know what you think!

It was nice to have a distraction. To think about something else for a day. To get your head out of it for a minute. Thor helped you of getting rid of that empty feeling and now also helped you not to think about the biggest problem in your life.

You’re punching the bags like you do every day. Every day you try and clear your head, but that doesn’t mean it works. Every day you thought about the same thing, and that’s what today makes so different. You’re punching the bags, but it feels different.

All you can think about is Thor’s hands roaming your body, the little bolts that leaving his hand, making you feel like you were floating through the air. Orgasm. It was so incredibly strong. You can’t just forget that. You can’t move on. But you’ll have to.

You had a few flings before, men who you pleasured you without any commitment to it. But this- oh this. You’re not sure if a guy will ever be able to top it. At this moment you’re quite sure that you just had the best sex of your life and from here it will only go downhill.

“Y/N?” Your thoughts are interrupted by Steve, who’s leaning against wall while watching you punch. Sweat is covering his body, the white shirt revealing his defined muscles. But you ignored it. Not because you weren’t impressed, because you were. You would be lying if you never thought of making out with him. You ignored it because you saw Steve’s face screamed business. Even though you’ve known him for just a few weeks, you could tell whenever he was serious.

“I’m heading out for a mission with Bucky and Natasha, are you good?”, he asks with a bit of concern in his voice. He looked out for you since the day that Tony was done doing all of his tests on you. He was the one who said that it might be best to train in the compound alongside the Avengers, he even said that you might one day join them on a mission. Tony didn’t quite agree with that immediately, but Steve’s convinced that an enhanced person like you can be a great asset to the team.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Good luck”, you say with a little smile on your face. Steve nods, disappearing from your eyesight. Even though you always feel a bit bad whenever they leave, you know they can’t stay. If you told him you’re not fine, he’ll just worry during the mission. Another burden to think about.

It wasn’t that you’re not fine. You’ve never felt so in place since ten years ago. You’re glad that you’re with people who understand what you’re going through and there to help you, but you wish Tony found out more during the tests he run on you. Something that could explain what is going on with you.

You sigh and let the empty feeling consume you again. The punching bag is calling your name, or at least you feel like it does. And so you turn around, giving it a hard punch, hurting your knuckles the moment you hit the leather. A low growl leaves your mouth, a tear burning on your cheek. The smell of the leather enters your nose, making you feel calmer.

“Anything else I need to know?”, Tony asks while turning your back on you. He’s typing in something on his StarkPad, but you can’t see what. “No. No, just- I can rip off the floor and, just, I can-“ “control stones. You already said that.”

You nod, understanding that he only wants useful information. In the back of your head you know you have to say it, but you don’t. You don’t want to say it because you don’t want to believe it. It’s something you can’t ignore, but you want to figure it out yourself before asking anyone else.

“Can you lay down please?”, he asks. You’re sitting on a first-line bed, fingers cramped in to the thin paper that covers the leather. You do as he says and lay down, looking in to the sharp line of the light on the plafond, almost blinding your eyes. Quickly you look away, to Tony, who comes walking in to your direction with a pen. “Now, I’m just going to see how your body and brain react, okay?”

Another punch, leaving you bite your lip. For you, it feels like the harder you hit, the clearer your thoughts are. You can get everything right and maybe, one day, you’ll find an answer. You’ll punch the bag and know the solution without having to talk about it. Because you’re desperate for it, you want it to be over, you want to live a normal life.

But again, your thoughts trail off. They wonder to a couple of hours ago. How he pushed you against the wall and shoved himself in you. You punch again, now with an ‘uh’ coming out of your mouth involuntarily. At the moment you thought it more important than the secret that has never left your lips.

“Lady Y/N.” The words make you shudder. You already know who it is, but turn around anyway out of politeness.

“Oh, Thor, Hi”, you say awkwardly, knowing full well you just thought about him again. A little red shade fills your cheeks, which makes you turn around to the punching bag again. “Is there something you need?”, you ask, a punch following after.

“No, no, just- Yes, I need something. I came to ask if you could.. show me your ability”, Thor says. You can tell he’s unsure of asking the question. You turn around again, the red in your cheeks not that visible anymore.

-

“Uh- so, I do this-“ Your eyes are focussed on the ground, hands slightly forward to the part you want to tore out. It’s a few tiles that are just out of the compound, it wouldn’t hurt a soul to just show what you can. Steve hasn’t allowed you to train your powers yet, he wants your body in perfect combat condition first. Or at least, that’s what he says. You wonder if he’s afraid that you don’t know how to control your skills. Because weirdly, you do. You know how to control it, even though you discovered those powers not that long ago. It felt so natural.

The tiles slowly lift up from the ground, some dirt falling on the ground while you slowly rise them up in the sky. Your eyes let go of them and meet with Thor’s. He’s grinning while looking from you to the tiles.

“What else can you do with them?”, he asks curiously. You shrug, not really knowing the answer yourself.

“Well, I can throw them at someone. Like this-“ You flick your hand, making the tiles hit the wall of the compound hard, shattering them in to thousand pieces. Thor’s grin only grows wider, his arms crossed.

“Do you trust me?”, he asks, voice a bit more quiet and low as he walks closer to you. You stay silent, head not nodding or shaking. He stands still right in front of you, taking your hands in his. “Do you?”, he insists.

Out of curiosity you nod, looking in to his blue ocean eyes. If you wouldn’t catch yourself, you would’ve drowned in those. He really worked his magic on you, but you can’t let it in. You could curse on yourself right then and there. Why did he make you feel so.. whole? This never happened with your previous encounters. You could just interact with them like normal human beings, why couldn’t you with Thor?

A little rumble makes you break contact with his eyes, looking up in the sky. It has turned a lot darker, the sun now hiding behind a few thick clouds that were probably filled with rain. You look back at him in confusion. Is this his doing?

“I want you to try and focus on the stones you just shattered.” Shatter. I’m going to shatter you. No, no don’t think about that. Think about the stones. You look in his eyes again and can’t seem to think of anything else but that sentence. A light panic starts to take over, making you think of nothing else but how you should be focussing on the tiles, but you’re not. You shake your head, pulling your hands out of his.

He sighs, not disappointed but more one where he tries to keep his patience. “Is something wrong?”, he asks. You shake your head. “No, sorry, I just wasn’t focussed”, you lie. You had to lie, you can’t expect him to care or to feel the same way. You just had to get some air, you had to get over him.

You place your hands in his again and look in his eyes. They’re slowly lighting up, little sparks flying over his entire body. You now try to concentrate on the stones, feeling their energy bore through your body. Feeling connected to them. It made you feel powerful, but you knew that was a dangerous feeling.

Slowly the sparks disappear and the clouds slowly drift away as if it never happened. He lets go of your hands and smiles cheekily. “I knew it”, he says. He turns around and walks to his hammer, which is a few feet away from the two of you.

“What?”, you ask curiously, following him quickly. He turns around and his eyes watch you from top to toe.

“When was the first time you noticed you didn’t age?”

You grow silent, standing still all at once. Your heart begins to beat like a mad man, pounding heavily in your chest and slowly in to your throat as well. You can’t think, you can’t move, you feel like you can’t even breathe.

He waits, patiently now. As if he got all the time in the universe, which he practically has but that’s not the point now. He leans on one leg, Mjölnir loosely in his hand. He asked it with such ease, while you were struggling with it for ten years.

You finally find the words and open your mouth. “Ten years”, you whisper, tears burning in your eyes. “I haven’t aged for ten years.” The words leave your lips for the first time and it feels surreal. You don’t want to say the words. You don’t want to believe this is happening.

“Who knows?”, he asks when he sees your watery eyes. He takes a step closer, but you don’t move to him. He’s trying to check your boundaries, not entirely sure what just happened. You knew for ten years, but yet you were an emotional wreck.

You shake your head, lips sealed. It was enough for Thor to know that no one knows. No one but you – and now him.

“How did this happen?”, he asks. Once again you shake your head, unable to speak another word. You feel a big limp in your throat, blocking you of making any sound that’s fairly human. Can’t he see you’re in a state where you can’t answer his question? You can barely even stand on your legs at this moment.

A group of soldiers run by, interrupting the moment between you and Thor. But it was just the right push for you to get back to reality, to get your heart back to the right place and for your body to be able to move again.

You watch the soldiers run by, there must have been at least fifty. Thor watches as well, waiting till they’re out of earshot so you can continue your conversation. Out of boredom he throws his hammer from one to the other hand, letting it make a little somersault in between the throws.

When the last few run by, you take a few small steps to Thor, your arms crossing on your chest. “How did you know?”, you ask while squinting your eyes slightly. The sun was shining brightly in your eyes.

“I felt it. Your body showed me”, he shrugged as if he told you you were having a cold. You cock your eyebrow. Did he already know yesterday?

He nods his head to the woods, insisting to make a walk. You agree and walk next to him with your hands in your backpockets.

“Do you know how this happened?”, he asked.

You shake your head. “I don’t even know when exactly it happened. I thought about a lot of different occasions, like hitting my head when falling down the stairs or maybe when I passed out.”

He nods, staying silent. The crisp of dead leaves echoes through the woods, the fresh soft wind making you feel like it’s slowly trying to blow all your thoughts away.

“My fosterparents don’t know”, you blurt out. His head turns to you, but you keep looking at the path in front of you. “I- I’m not very confrontational, so I slowly distanced myself from them. I only ever call them, I never videocall or visit. I don’t think they would understand.”

“I might not be one to give advice, but weren’t your fosterparents familiar with your powers?”, he asks. You nod, knowing fully well where this is going. He has the same trail of thoughts you had, but something in your head said this was different. A power is something that can be understood by human mind, time is another thing. Meddling with time is not something we consider possible, unless your name is Dr. Strange.

“They seem very kind. You should not underestimate their love for you”, he says. You sigh and shake your head.

“Don’t you think I ever thought about that? When I had my suspicions, I didn’t tell them because I thought I was getting weird. When I knew for sure, I wanted to find a solution before I had to tell anyone. After a couple of years it just.. I don’t know.. It felt like it was too late.” A tear falls down from your cheek, knowing how you should actually tell a few people. But you don’t want that. You don’t want to turn in to a labrat, because you know that’s what you’ll become. A human woman who doesn’t age, every scientist and doctor would want to know what’s going on.

“Are you sure you were born on earth?”, he asks. You look at him with a smirk, never considered you might be from somewhere else. “Yes, Thor, I’m born on earth. I’m pretty sure I’m human”, you say while laughing a bit.

He chuckles and gives you a light push. “I know you are. You have their stubborn traits”, he jokes. You gasp playfully and shake your head, not knowing what to say.

You silently walk further. It was peaceful and comfortable, you needed that. But at the same time, it was torture. You knew this would end, his presence would not last forever and you will be soon left alone with your thoughts.

Sometimes your arms brush softly. Those touches make you sharp, nervous even. This walk makes you uneasy. There was a lot happening and you’re not sure how you can comprehend it. On one side you never wanted this to end, you enjoyed his company and you already spit out your biggest secret. It made you feel safe in a way you haven’t experienced in the last ten years.

On the other side you wanted this to end as quick as can be. He knows and you’re not certain how to feel under such circumstances. You’re relieved and scared at the same time. Now that someone knows your secret, you’re not sure how long it will take for others to find out as well. With all of those thoughts, you still feel this connection with him. You’re incredibly attracted to him and that needs to stop. You need distance.

Thirty minutes later you find yourself back at the compound. You spoke a little, but more about the woods than about anything else. He probably sensed that you definitely didn’t want to talk about it and therefore quit talking all at once. Not that you cared, you were way too shaken up by the thought that someone knew.

At the compound, you said goodbye awkwardly. He said he enjoyed the walk and looked forward to doing it again. You said you wanted that too and then hurriedly left to your apartment. You need to clear your head.

_

Let me know if you want to be tagged! Tags: @thamuddagirl @blaised-zabini 

[danyka-fendyr]

Kingdom of Gold: Part 6

That’s right everyone, it took me way way way too long, but I have finally caught up to Dream in the writing of this series. (I think. This post has not been fact-checked.) My nails are too long, my polish is not my favorite color and I don’t know why I chose it, I’m watching a movie I have so far flawlessly predicted the characters and plot points of as I write this, and my body is revolting against me in the same fashion it always does, but I’m still here. Oh also I move out on Monday and that’s deeply unsettling to me but now ask me if I’d rather not. Anyway, I guess we’ll start the angst hours now.

Edit: I moved out! It was not as bad as I thought it was going to be. So far so good.

Disclaimer: This series is based off of the lovely Faint of Heart series by @dreamwritesimagines and it’s sequel series, Crown of Hearts. I would highly recommend both series!

Taglist:@dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli @finnickfoxes

Wordcount: 2763

Chapter Six: The girl was a whirlwind of anger and bitterness, her rage consuming her. She could hear no reason and no advice over the roaring fury in her ears. And when you have a storm inside of you, you also have a choice to make. You can let it destroy you, or you can let it out, and the girl had come too far to be destroyed now.

Isolde did not want to get out of bed today. In fact, she never wanted to leave it again. This time though, it was not because she’d had too much liquor the night before. She was never having a drop of that ever again. Clearly, it made her make mistakes, made her too trusting. Silly girl.

“My lady,” Dagny said, interrupting her wallowing.

“Yes, Dagny?” Isolde rolled over under the heavy furs protecting her from Kattegat’s morning chill.

“Her Majesty the Queen requests your presence.”

“I don’t suppose royalty takes rainchecks, do they?”

“Not that I am aware of.” Dagny smirked slightly.

Isolde groaned but got up out of bed anyway, a slow, reluctant thing. There were dark circles under her eyes from all the unfortunate realizations of the day before, but largely, she did not look half as bad as she felt on the inside. And another plus, she didn’t appear to actually have any large, gaping wounds, despite how she might have felt. By the time she finished getting dressed, she almost looked like she might have been fit to see the queen. 

Snapdragon was in her chambers, cradling her son in her arms and cooing Viking lullabies to him. The sound might have been soothing before, but right now it just made Isolde want to break something. Preferably the earl’s face. Beside the bed was a woman with bright red hair, and part of a smile began to grow on Isolde’s face when she realized who it was.

“Bree?”

The redhead smiled infectiously, rushing over to hug her. “Oh, my darling. It’s been too long.”

“Where were you? They told me you betryaed the king and took a Viking lover and all sorts of wild things, but when I got here there was no you to ask about it, and I didn’t get word from anyone else-”

“Oh little love,” Bree said, “I was on a raid. I’m so terribly sorry that none of these fools told you.”

Isolde stiffened, the smile dropping off her face at the word raid. “You...went on a raid.”

“Yes, yes, I know it’s unconventional for women to fight in wars back home, but come now, you’re more progressive than that-”

“I am not so progressive that I support the slaughter of an innocent people.” Isolde’s voice had gone cold.

“Isolde...what has happened to you?”

“A war, Bree. Did they not tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” There was a hint of something in her voice that was not confusion or curiosity, but fear.

“Beatrice is dead.”

Bree let out a sharp breath. “...Beatrice. Our Beatrice?”

“Yes. But I suppose it doesn’t matter when it’s not your cousin, does it? It doesn’t matter when it’s just war, just a raid. If you don’t know who’s dead then why care?”

“I did mean...” 

“Of course you didn’t. Was there anything else you’ll be needing your majesty, or did you merely wish to inform me my cousin had returned?”

Snapdragon squinted at her in a very sharp way.

“No. Sit.”

Isolde grit her teeth but sat anyway.

“What has happened? Something has happened to upset you. To change your mind.”

“Change my mind on what? As far as I’m concerned my mind has returned to its original state. The truth.”

“You know, some of the poets say that no one actually knows the truth. I would argue you certainly don’t. You’ve hardly given these people a chance.”

Isolde’s eyes flashed. “I gave them more than a chance. I gave them my trust, and they broke that. When were you going to tell me what the earl was really like?”

“Well, it seemed as though you knew. A kind, caring man who would do anything to protect what he loves. That is usually how he presents himself, isn’t it? Or am I just remarkably good at reading people?” 

Isolde scoffed. 

“What? What terrible, horrible thing happened? Tell me, my dear, and I’m sure we can right it.”

“Can you right the fact that your precious Earl Eric is just another Viking warlord who comes home covered in blood rejoicing in the spoil of his kills and bedding every maiden who bats her eyelashes at him?”

Snapdragon stared at her a moment before nodding. “Oh. Well, I see what this is about.”

“You...you do?”

“Yes. I believe I do. But first, allow me to assuage your fears. The only people Earl Eric has ever hurt, to my knowledge, are the sort of men you would condone the harm of. The very sort of men who did all those unspeakable things back at your home are the sorts of men the Earl fights. He has a code of honor, you know. Never women, never children. Only those trying to harm him and those he has seen harm others.”

Isolde did not like whatever she was feeling now. Largely because she didn’t know what she was feeling now. Should she feel lied to still, but by an entirely different person? Should she still feel angry with the earl? It was...confusing. She felt confused, and that was all that she knew.

“...oh. Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s still a...a...a floozy.”

“A floozy?” The queen arched a brow. “Hardly. The girls make their best attempts, but I have yet to see him actually take one up on their offer. Not since you came around, anyhow. Even before then he was far less...active than most of the warriors coming home.”

“What...what do you mean not since I came around??

“Oh, you know. He’s been far too busy with his duties with you to think of anyone else. I suspect he hardly thinks even of himself anymore.”

“I....I said horrible things to him,” Isolde whispered.

“Did you call him a floozy?” Snapdragon wasn’t even pretending not to be amused.

Isolde winced. “Much worse.”

“Might I suggest you swallow your pride and apologize now instead of being mad at each other for months on end and miserable?” 

“That was...specific.”

The look Snapdragon gave her told her not to ask any further questions.

“Go. Go now. And you can talk to Bree later. Earl Eric won’t know what to do without you around. I expect he’s just running around like a chicken with his head cut off.”

Isolde smiled softly. “I expect he is. He tends to do that.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Fine. I’m going.”

Isolde was only slightly ashamed to admit that she dragged her feet down the halls of the castle and deliberately took the long way to any location that Earl Eric could possibly be, starting with the ones he was least likely to be at. Alas, this strategy could only work for so long, and eventually, she came upon him. 

He cut a downtrodden figure, sitting in a back corner of the blacksmith’s workshop studying his work. His eyes seemed to be transfixed by the flames, so much so that he didn’t even notice her until she sat by his feet. She figured if she was going to apologize she had best do it well, and if that involved groveling at his feet, she deserved it.

“I’m sorry.” She spoke quietly, hesitant to disrupt the orderly din of the blacksmith’s workshop as he forged what looked like a battle axe, perhaps. “You did not deserve any of the things I said to you, and there is no excuse for my behavior last night. I hope that someday you may be able to forgive me.”

She was not brave enough to look at him as she said this, and so she did not see the softening of the pain on his face.

“Why? You say there is no excuse, but that does not mean there was no reason. What did I do to provoke such fury?”

He sounded so hurt that Isolde had to shut her eyes against the sharp, stinging wetness building in them.

“It was...it was nothing you did. It was something someone said about you that I was foolish enough to believe, that is all.”

“What did they say? And who said it?”

“A friend of mine. He...he painted a very brutal picture of you coming back from raids, I’m afraid. I don’t believe he knew you had any sort of code of honor, and neither did I until this morning. He also gave a very...detailed idea of your prowess with women.” Isolde hated how bitter she sounded on that last part.

To her surprise, the earl’s next words dared to sound amused.

“Oh? Is that what made you so mad, little icicle?”

She turned her head to look at him, a steady glare on her face from being mocked.

“Worry not. My attention is far too devoted to you now to worry about anyone else. I have a job to do, you know.” He sounded like he was about to laugh.

“I despise you.” There was no malice in it this time.

“A shame. I adore you.”

Her cheeks pinkened quickly, but she told herself it was just the heat of the forges.

“Come on now. We have to go show the queen we made up. She’ll be quite pleased.”

“...the Queen sent you?”

“No. Well, yes, but that’s neither here nor there. I would have come myself, the Queen simply sped up the process a bit. I’m a horrible coward and was too afraid to face you, but I was more afraid of what she would do to me if I didn’t. She has that hawk you know.” Isolde shuddered.

“I would never let Eitr hurt you.” He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“You’ll have to excuse me for not taking any chances.” 

Was she even saying anything, or was she just pushing air out of her mouth? Because she might as well have been doing the latter for how breathy that was.

“Come now. You’ll keep us here forever if we don’t start walking,” she huffed.

Then, before she could second guess it, she took his hand to pull him along. He was so surprised that he followed easily, despite being a good foot taller than her. She smirked to herself. Two could play at this game.

“So who is this friend of yours who has such a bad opinion of me?”

And there she was blushing again. “No one.”

“No one?” That was not a happy tone of voice.

“No one at all. Just a friend.”

“Well, she seems to dislike me.”

“I’m sure he has nothing against you. Just rumors and all.” She prayed he would be distracted by the rest of the conversation and not notice the he.

“It is a man then.” The Earl didn’t sound surprised, but he also sounded solidly, definitely unhappy.

Isolde looked back at him to see the frown settling into his face, jaw working hard. Even when he was conflicted and angry he was attractive. She supposed.

“Yes. But no matter. We shouldn’t speak of it anymore.”

“Why not?” He raised a brow.

Well, she couldn’t exactly say because she didn’t want to.

“Because it’s making you moody, Earl. I much prefer your smiles.” 

That wasn’t entirely true. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little intrigued by this different side to the man. But that was neither here nor there.

“Then coax one out of me,” he challenged.

She did love a good challenge. “Alright then. Floki in one of my old dresses.”

Immediately he was laughing, and so was she. The picture was so comical it was hard not to. The triumphant grin on her face revealed how pleased she was with herself.

“You do not fight fair little icicle.” He was, of course, smiling as she continued to drag him through the halls of the castle.

“I can’t afford to. I’m rather small. I have to use my wits, or else I’d be dead by now.”

“Do not worry about that. I will protect you.”

She stopped, frowning. “You know you don’t have to, right?”

“What?” He stopped dead, causing her body to lurch back when she did not stop with him and their hands remained intertwined.

“You don’t have to protect me just because your queen ordered it. You don’t have to...follow me, or be nice to me, or whatever it is you’re doing, just because she says so. If you don’t-If you would rather not be around me, I can arrange for that.”

He stared at her for a long moment.

“I would very much like to be assigned to care for you for the rest of my life. It is my favorite of all my duties, and the only one I never tire of.”

Oh. That was...bold.

“Oh. Well.” She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I suppose this is ideal then.”

He smiled. “Yes, I suppose that it is.” 

Gently, he raised her hand, his breath brushing across her knuckles and then his lips. Gosh, she wished he wouldn’t do that. She would never be able to walk anywhere if her legs turned to pudding first.

“Right then. On our way.” Just keep walking, just keep walking.

As Isolde had discovered at a very early age, all roads lead back to the great hall. The path they were currently on was no exception, and sooner rather than later they stumbled upon her royal majesty.

Isolde dropped the earl’s hand like it had burned her as soon as they were in the presence of others. She still felt though that everyone was watching them, or that someone had seen. That was one part of the court you never grew out of. The feeling of everyone’s eyes being on you. She wondered if farmers and merchants ever got that feeling or if they were just able to live in peace. She suspected the latter was the case.

“Your majesty.” Isolde curtsied even as Snapdragon rolled her eyes.

“I see you two made up.” She had a knowing grin on her face.

“Yes. We are on much better terms now.” It hurt Isolde to admit it, seeing that smug look on Snapdragon’s face.

“I knew you two wouldn’t be able to stay mad at each other for long.”

“Yes, yes, and you were right.” Isolde rolled her eyes.

Ivar sat by his queen’s side, not saying a word. Instead, he chose to glare at the earl, who was looking a bit gloomy himself.

“What troubles you, Earl Eric?” Snapdragon asked.

Ivar’s frown deepened.

“Oh, nothing your majesty.” He pulled up a forced smile.

“You are a terrible liar.”

“I assure you, there is nothing that you need to be worried about.”

“I suppose I will have to take you at your word. I cannot very well let my husband torture information out of you in the great hall.” 

She half-laughed at herself, clearly very oblivious to how pleased her husband looked at the suggestion. Isolde still could not puzzle out how they were together. Other than the arranged marriage bit, of course.

For a moment, she was just as confused as the queen to the earl’s mood. Just a moment ago he had been more than cheerful enough. Now, he was frowning. She found her answer though looking down to his hands, where one was noticeably empty where it had not been before, fingers fidgeting. Oh. Was that what he was worried about?

Well, she couldn’t very well hold his hand in the great hall in front of everyone where someone could see it and take it the wrong way. Then again, she found herself wishing to see him smile again. So, mustering up what cleverness she had, she managed a compromise. She smiled at him, hoping to wipe away that frown, and gently placed her hand on his arm. It wasn’t there long, only a moment or two. No one else would notice.

It would have worked flawlessly if Bree hadn’t walked in at that moment and had the uncanny ability to see through Isolde’s every move. She had been doing that since they were children and it never got less irritating or nervewracking. So of course, the moment she approached the table she gave Isolde a smile that, if you didn’t know her, might make you think she was planning on murdering you and dumping the body at the bottom of the lake. 

On the bright side though, the Earl was smiling again.

Isolde supposed that she would have to take the small victories and her cousin could wait until tomorrow.

[fieryaxolotl]

Rocking the Trickster

Prompt:

Summary: Gabriel had learned, lifetimes ago, that the quickest, easiest way to weed out over-pompous asses making people’s lives miserable was to work at the most menial, low-ranked jobs possible. He just had to be there, minding his own business, and let the assholes come to him like bees to honey. And this job is no different than the others.

He just need to remember to keep a low profile.

Pairing: Gen

Word Count: 2763

Warnings: None

A/N: This is my first time taking part of the @gabriel-monthly-challenge and my first SPN fic in about forever!! (Yes, it took this archangel being brought back from the dead...) I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you guys will enjoy it.

Huge thanks and kudos to @chattydm for stabbing having a go at it with the Red Pen of Doom and helping me make it all much better :p

Mention of American Gods plot, I kept it vague on purpose because 1) Gabriel is not aware of it 2) I didn’t to go full AU mode (yet)

Tags:  @archangelsanonymous @lacqueluster @archangel-with-a-shotgun and @revwinchester

AO3 Link or read below :)

Gabriel had learned, lifetimes ago, that the quickest, easiest way to weed out over-pompous asses making people’s lives miserable was to work at the most menial, low-ranked jobs possible. He just had to be there, minding his own business, and let the assholes come to him like bees to honey.

Over the countless years since he left Heaven, he had worked a vast array of such jobs. Camel driver, serf, body-snatcher, lector in a manufactory... He actually liked that one! He got to entertain the factories’ workers, and telling stories was his thing. Plus, he got a high seat. A perfect way to keep an eye on everyone, especially those he decided to target for his “little life lessons”.

Heck! He even drove a truck for PEPSI for a while, delivering one of his favorite drinks all over the US. If his brothers saw what he had become… The mighty Gabriel, a truck delivery driver… Well, to be honest, Lucifer would probably bust a feather laughing.

That was ages ago. He shook his head, smiling a little as he returned his mind to the present. He took the pad the production coordinator handed him, quickly pushing all thoughts of his brothers away. It was a simple job, as they all were. He just had to to be a little more careful than usual to keep a low profile. He was in Iowa, not too far from Ohio, where he did his last job as a janitor for Ohio State. The last thing he needed was over-zealous hunters figuring out he had tricked them and follow through with their plan to kill him. Besides, if he remembered correctly, there was also a hunter congregation point, right in the next state. Another reason not to rock the boat.

 “Gabe…?” He smirked, rather proud of his idea to hide in plain sight. He rarely gave in to the temptation though, preferring made-up names or generic ones. Thankfully, naming their child “Gabriel” was still popular among parents, considering how often he heard it. But the voice calling for his attention was not the voice of his long-lost brother or sister, it was the voice of the one of the musicians he was supposed to be attached to.

Right. Focus on the job: Production Assistant, or PA as they called it, to this budding indie music group. And keep a low profile. Simple. “Sorry for that! I just… spaced out for a moment.” He made sure to sound extra cheerful as he handed the pad back to the producer. The lead guitar just smiled at him but the lead singer scoffed. Great! A Diva! Oh… He was SO on Gabriel’s naughty list.

The music group he was working with wasn’t so bad. He learned that they had become friends in high school, and the lead singer and guitarist were brothers. They kept an easy feeling of camaraderie around them, curbing most of Keith’s, the lead singer, asshole tendencies.

 He did a pretty good job at keeping it under the radar. It wasn’t *his* fault if the strings from Keith’s guitar suddenly snapped off, breaking the instrument’s neck in the process, just as he was about to start his solo. Clearly it was a sign of abuse, despite the singer’s claim and bewilderment. Of course, Gabriel had dashed off, only to come back just as quickly with a suitable replacement. That happened to be bright pink. With My Little Pony stickers all over its body and bright neon pink strings. Gabriel thought it did wonders bringing out the red in the singer’s bloodshot eyes.

Neither was he responsible if, somehow, Keith’s shampoo bottle ended up filled with hair removal product, forcing the man to completely shave the long hair he was so proud of. He kept complaining about it throughout the day and to whoever was willing to listen (or look like they cared), until the drummer told to shove it and keep his breath for singing. Besides, it was well-known that “chicks dig bald head after all”. Gabriel didn’t know if it was because of the “chick” comment or just the fact the usually silent drummer spoke, but Keith finally shut up and the rehearsal finished without any more hitch.

Granted, sending homophobic Keith to a bar hosting one of RuPaul’s Drag Race Main Challenge that specific night, may have been his doing. But heh! They played Classic Rock all the time! And you never mess with the classics. Not to mention that Keith appeared to be quite the connoisseur, judging by how often he commented and complained about his fellow musicians.

(It still didn’t beat the slow-dancing aliens Gabriel willed out of thin air, but this one was in his personal top 5.)

 All in all, the Trickster was quite proud of himself. Knocking the ever-pompous ass down a peg, but subtly, every time he acted out, was kind of fun. Reminded him of the time he took the mantle of “Loki”. Gabriel chuckled, singing softly as he finished cleaning up the record studio.

“I didn’t know you sang.”

Gabriel yelped, nearly dropping his broom. Few people could sneak up on him. He turned around to see Keith’s brother, Joey, standing in the doorway.

“Ah…” Gabriel looked away, a little embarrassed. He didn’t thought the kid had heard him. “I used to… About a few centuries ago…” It wasn’t technically a lie; the last time he truly sang, he was with his brothers in the Silver City. He glanced again at Joey when he heard him make some non-committal sound.

 The kid was an enigma. Gabriel had learned, from the first day he started working with them, that he was Keith’s older brother and that the music group was their dream. Joey mainly worked on the songs and musical arrangements, while Keith, making good use of his outgoing personality and ambition, took care of the fans, dealt with the production people, and made sure to get their names out there. Still, Joey never gave into pride the way Keith did.

He was polite, gracious even, thanking the people hovering around them both and making sure his requests were never obnoxious. That didn’t mean he was a push-over either. One time, when the producer, tired and annoyed that Keith had stormed off of rehearsal for the nth time, suggested Joey took over as lead vocals, the musician had flat out refused. And stood his ground until the producer backed down when he realised it would be foolish to continue pushing the issue.

It wasn’t as if Keith couldn’t sing. The man had talent, there was no denying it. But he was so difficult to work with. Gabriel suspected the only reason people stayed and helped was because they liked Joey more than they hated Keith. Yet, there had been times when Gabriel had caught Keith glancing at this brother, as if looking for his approval.

Still, Gabriel wondered why Joey would reject the producer’s proposal so violently. Joey merely shrugged when he asked him about it and insisted to stay behind that evening to help Gabriel finish his chores. Despite Gabriel’s protests. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t get the work done with a snap of his fingers, after all.

 “He’s not the first to suggest it.” Joey finally answered after a time. “Nor will he be the last… But… see, Keith… He’s made for this. He’s… He can shine under the spotlights like… like I never could. And I’m not jealous! I’m happy to write the songs when he works on getting our names out there. I’m happy to be there for him, so he can shine.” And he just smiled and got back to work.

It sounded like total bullshit, in Gabriel’s opinion. He had never met anyone who wouldn’t enjoy being in the spotlight. Maybe Joey just needed a little incentive…

The next time Keith was being an ass, Gabriel got the opportunity to hit two birds with one stone. It was last day after all, despite the production team not being aware of it yet, and he had always prided himself leaving on a high note. Pun not intended.

 Gabriel made a discreet rippling gesture with the fingers of his right hand. One minute, Keith was yelling and growling and ranting and being a general pain in the butt, and the next, nothing. Just… Silence. Pure. Sweet. Silence. And there was nothing to be done to change the situation.

That threw the production out for a loop. They were in the middle of recording a very important session. It was one of the rare duets sang by the brothers. And this one that had the potential to change everything and getting the group recognized. Gabriel only hoped Joey was ready to go at it, solo. He did feel a little bit guilty when he saw the fear and panic written all over the kid’s face. Best make a quick exit.

 “Gabe? Gabe?! GABRIEL?!!! WAIT!!!”

 Dammit. Joey had managed to catch up just as he was about to step outside. A few more steps and… Gabriel sighed and turned around, unable to resist the fear and worry and hope in the guy’s voice. He knew he should have flown out of there but didn’t want to risk it.

“Gabriel… You have to help…” Joey panted. “You have to sing Keith’s part…”

“Come again?”

“You have to sing. It’s the only way we can get the sing out in time.”

“You’re joking right? Why don’t you do it solo?” Maybe the kid really needed to be pointed the obvious.

But Joey just shook his head. “Can’t… not the right voice… doesn’t carry well… would ruin the song… But, yours… Yours could work… Just…”

“Joey, that’s ridi- “

“Listen, if you don’t want to do it, it’s fine… But -”

“Gabe is right… You have to sing.” A raspy voice, barely above a whisper interrupted them.

 They turned around to see Keith standing beside them. Gabriel could have hit himself. He truly was getting old. And he couldn’t just zap out there, he was really committed to see this through as low-profile as he could.

“You know it won’t work! It’s a duet! It needs to be sung by two people!” Joey protested, getting angry. “My voice is way too clear and high for your parts! I’ll end up sounding like a bad mash up of Alvin and Chipmunks, with a head-cold!!!”

“Then, we forget this, we wait for another opportunity and use this to work on new material.”

 The brothers stared at each other. Meanwhile, Gabriel couldn’t believe what was happening. Aside for the Alvin thingie part, that he could. Joey’s voice had reached a surprising high note in his distress. No, what surprised him was that Keith, Pompous-Asshole-Keith, was calmly trying to calm his brother down. Keith who was not even furious at the step back his nearly muteness was causing but who was in fact trying to find a solution. Gabriel was truly confused. Either this session must mean a lot more to them than he first thought, or he accidentally causes Opposite Day.

A heavy hand landing on his shoulder brought him back to the situation at hand. “Can you sing my part?”

Gabriel looked up to see Keith staring at him. The brothers appeared to have reach some kind of agreement while he was busy puzzling over what was happening. “Look… I know I’ve been an ass… and I have no right to ask you this.” Keith was saying. “But, it’ll help us greatly if you helped us out.”

“You… You can’t be serious.”

“Joey says you’re good. And that’s good enough for me.” By now, Keith was nearly growling, his voice giving out.

Gabriel scoffed, looking at each brother in turn.

The naked hope in their eyes tugged at something he buried a long time ago. “But I can’t play!” It was a cop-out, one last desperate attempt to get out.

And a poor one. Keith gave a lopsided small smile, as if he knew it. “I think I can help with that…”

Gabriel sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

Bloody Hell.

The recording session was surprisingly easy. It took only one rehearsal to see how everyone worked together before they started recording. Gabriel’s presence raised a few eyebrows, but the Joey/Keith tandem quickly shut everyone up. It was impressive to see how efficiently they worked together. The other musicians just shrugged, happy a solution had been found. And Gabriel really got lost in the experience. It was surprising how easy and familiar it was to just be a part of something once again.

When the producer called out “And… it’s a wrap!” and everyone just… jumped around, nearly bursting with joy. Gabriel just stood there, unable to move, feeling the pats on his back and shoulders, the one-arm hugs. He was staring at the brothers, hugging and thumping each other’s back. They let go and just… stared at each other, before the rhythmic guitar player sauntered over, saying something that made Keith roar with laughter. Or he would have, if he still had a voice.

Gabriel was suddenly hit by a wave of homesickness. It was too much to take in. Too hard to breathe. He didn’t think.

 He flew away, landing a few cities away, to try and get his bearings and calm the sudden hammering of his Grace. He usually managed to keep it at peace by entertaining himself with mortal ladies (and some goddesses), but… Nothing could have prepared him for the impact the sheer force of the tangled emotions he just witnessed, and caused.

“Well… You are not the one I had expected to find here.”

The voice came from behind him and Gabriel turned around to see a man emerged from the shadows. He was adjusting the cuffs of his tailored purple silk suit, his face hidden by the shadow cast by his hat.

“Hello Anansi.” Gabriel shoved his hands his pockets, mimicking the other’s relaxed pose. "Fancy meeting you here."

The cordial tone was a trick and they both knew it as they kept a respectful (and prudent) distance from one another.

 Gabriel’s eyes narrowed as he watched the African Trickster, half-wondering if he may or may not have been responsible for the sudden change of situation at the recording studio. Distances meant nothing for supernatural beings, and Anansi was known to work from afar. “I thought we both agreed to stay within our territories.” He said after a time. “Are you making a move?”

“Not at all.” Anansi said a little too smoothly, raising a hand, as if to indicate his peaceful intentions, his voice was singing, soothing, a mix of both Caribbean and African accents. “I am merely on my way to the House of Rock, to meet with the All-Father. Surely, you must be aware of this.” 

Gabriel frowned slightly. No, he didn't know the Old Gods were meeting. Truth be told, he wasn’t really close to his alleged fellows, not wanting to risk the off-chance of revealing his true nature. This had caused Odin to make numerous complains, and thin-veiled insults, about his lack of “investment in their plight.” Not that Gabriel really cared. “I have been travelling a lot lately.” He shrugged. “Perhaps my invitation got lost in the mail.”

“Perhaps…” Anansi said though he did not push the issue.

 Gabriel was the first to break the ensuing silence. “In any case, I shall let you be on your way.” He stepped aside to let the man pass. “While we both know Odin loves his theatrics, I won’t begrudge you your grand entrance.”

“Indeed.” Anansi tipped his hat as thanks, to which Gabriel responded with a nod.

 They kept an eye on each other as the African Trickster walked past him. Just in case.

“By the way, Loki,” Anansi said, his back now to Gabriel, judging he was at a safe enough distance, “I have heard stories.”

“What kind of stories?”

“Stories of wars. Stories of hurt. Stories of betrayal. Stories of brother fighting brother. Of friend turning against friend.” He turned around to look over his shoulder. His eyes were dark and unreadable, and Gabriel wondered one more time how much he knew. And if it was a threat he needed to take care of. “You might want to be careful not to get caught in the crossfire.” He said evenly.

“I will. Thank you for the warning.”

Anansi nodded and disappeared, leaving the former archangel in the dark street, wondering about what was about to come next.

THE END