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spatialwave · 8 months ago

Note

Can you do an Angus Tully NSFW alphabet?

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐒 𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 – 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭.

notes: 18+. fem!reader/college au. 18+ characters. thank you for asking me to do this. <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

angus tully is a darling with aftercare, something that comes naturally to him. he loves to pepper your face with chaste kisses and coo gentle praises in your ear as you cuddle. if you don’t use a condom he’ll make sure to get a towel to clean you up, or you two will sneak to the showers together.

he’s so fucking kind with you—always making sure you know how loved you are after he’s made ruins of you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he loves your tits, they’re his favourite thing in the entire world. he’ll touch them any chance he gets and will constantly ask you to wear something low-cut. it makes him so incredibly hard when you don’t wear a bra, his cock twitching in excitement anytime he can see your hard nipples pressing through your shirt.

his own favourite body part is his cock. he’s well endowed and you were the one to tell him that. angus thought he was very average, but when you dropped your jaw the first time you saw him hard and naked he grew very smug and not-so-humble. his ego was never the same.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

angus cums a lot and he likes to see it on you. he loves cumming on your face with your tongue sticking out, seeing how it decorates you. he thinks you look so pretty when it dribbles down your chin.

his favourite place to cum is inside you, though. he ruts into you as he finishes, slowly rocking until he pulls back and watches how it drips out of your pussy. he’ll use his fingers to push it back inside of you, fucking you with them until your reach your peak.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

angus likes stealing your panties after you fuck. he'll keep them to jerk off with, sometimes putting them in his mouth to bite them. when you find out he's embarrassed as hell, but when you suggest that he can use them to cover your moans that becomes his new favourite thing.

anytime you get too loud, he'll bundle up your panties and shove them between your lips as a makeshift gag.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

angus tully has little experience—he’s had his first kiss & made out with girls before. nothing serious, especially since graduating from an all-boys school. when he met you he was lacking in recent experience and was still a virgin. though, after reading enough porno mags, he had a general idea of how to please a woman, but he learned the most from you.

he listens to your soft sounds and whimpers when his fingers curl inside you, how your moans choke in your throat when his tongue circles your clit. he’s a perceptive person, you hardly have to show him a thing and by your third time sleeping together he has you writhing on the bedsheets crying out his name.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he loves when you ride him because he has the perfect view of your tits bouncing. he likes holding onto your hips and helping you bounce up and down on his cock. however, he greatly prefers when you grind on him and fucking yourself on him, his eyes staying focused on you as you moan and mewl as you feel him hit deep inside your pussy.

he also loves the hook position because sometimes he needs to control the pace and fuck you like crazy. your thighs pressed against your chest and calves resting over his shoulders, giving him perfect access to thrust into you as deep and hard as you both crave.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

it depends on the situation. if you’re high, he’s always laughing, especially when you two are kissing—he just feels so elated and happy to be with you. effortlessly pleased and madly in love. early in your relationship, he was goofy too, mostly out of inexperience as you two learned each other’s bodies and made mistakes.

he’s mostly serious now, concentrating on how his cock penetrates you just right and making sure you get nothing less than euphoria.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

angus doesn't groom that much, mostly thanks to hippie culture. he will give himself a good trim if you request it. he also has a happy trail that he's very proud of.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

this is something that depends on your 'style' during the act. if the two of you are feeling desperate and needy, there's little romance and a ton of heady passion. if you're more vanilla and gentle, he'll whisper in your ear how much he loves you, how lucky he is, etc.

he's a romantic at heart, so sometimes he prefers to have those gentler moments with you to remind you of his love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he masturbates so much. it started with porno mags, but now all he needs is to picture your tits and he’s hard and ready to go. he jerks off any chance he gets when he’s alone, which is a lot more now that he has his own dorm room.

he loves watching you masturbate too, his eyes fixated on you while your fingers push inside your pussy and circle your clit. he’ll oftentimes stroke himself when watching, licking his lips as you toy with yourself under his gaze.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

teasing, biting, mild exhibitionism, giving praise, edging/orgasm control, watching you beg for his cock.

angus is a kinky man, but like many others, it comes with the more experience he gets. when he learns about edging, you can say goodbye to the times when you were able to cum as freely as you wanted as he fucks you. now he prefers to tease you and watch you beg for him to put his cock back inside your aching pussy.

(he also has a breeding kink that he's embarrassed about.)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his bed, by far. it's private and away from the other college students, the only downside is having to try to be quiet so the r.a. doesn't knock on his door mid-orgasm again.

angus likes the showers, too. they're not co-ed, but that doesn't stop him from sneaking you into the men's washrooms so you two can fuck in one of the shower stalls. to the boys that pass by, they usually try to ignore the muffled moans coming from the stall with two sets of feet visible from where the curtain ends.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

his biggest turn-on is when you're flirty and touchy with him, especially in public. he likes it when you bat your lashes at him and chew on your lip coyly, or when you're walking through campus together and your fingers brush along his hand slowly and softly–making his skin tingle.

when he's extra sensitive, sometimes he'll need to pull you aside somewhere private so you can get on your knees and take care of the problem you created for him. most of the time you two will decide to skip class and head to his dorm.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

he doesn't like being called daddy... for personal reasons.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves when you suck his cock, seeing the way you look up at him with your mouth and throat full of him. his hands in your hair, tugging as he pushes himself deeper and seeing how tears prick your eyes when he cums.

his preference is eating you out. he wasn't as skillful at first as he is now, so expert in his skills that oftentimes he can make you cum in a few minutes with just his tongue and fingers. he loves how you taste, swirling his tongue around your clit and licking you up and down until his mouth and chin are dripping with your juices. he especially loves when you ride his face because he gets the perfect view of your bouncing tits while indulging in your heat.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

angus usually leans more toward fast and rough with his movements, he isn't sure where exactly he gets his energy from, but lord knows he uses it well. he loves seeing how big of a mess you turn into when he's fucking you from behind with quick, hard thrusts–fingers digging into your hips as you cry out his name with your face shoved into the pillows.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

angus loves quickies, especially the ones that could potentially lead to you two being caught. quick fucks in the showers, a janitor's closet, or hidden in the quietest section of the library. you two don't do them often, but when life gets busy around midterms and finals, you two find yourselves needing those bursts of release.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

the biggest risk angus takes with you is not using condoms. he loves filling your pussy with his come and watching how it spills out of you and he never wants to change that. when you told him you were on the pill it was like all his wildest fantasies came true.

he also likes to experiment with semi-public sex. you giving him head in the back of a dark movie theatre or going shopping and fucking in a changing room.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go for a looong time because he's learned how to pace himself. there was one time you realized that you'd be fucking for nearly two hours, your bodies were so sore that the next day you both had to skip class because there was no way your legs weren't giving out.

he usually has enough energy to go out at least two rounds, at the very least enough to make sure you still cum after he does.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

angus doesn't own any toys himself, but is curious about them when you mention it. the only toy that you two purchase together is the hitachi magic wand after spotting it in a sex shop. it becomes a staple in your sexual escapades. he loves using it on you, watching how your hips twitch when the vibrations overstimulate you while he fucks you slowly and steadily.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh, how angus loves teasing you. it all started when you two were just friends, he'd notice how his teasing remarks about you would make your cheeks and ears turn red. then, when you two became sexual with each other, he wondered how that would translate into sex.

it worked wonders on him, loving the way you'd blush underneath him when he teases you. "you want my cock so bad, don't you?" he says as he just barely pushes the head of his cock inside of you, smiling when you pout and whine for him to keep going.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he isn't that loud, usually groaning and grunting in your ear with each snap of his hips. his words are breathy and heavy when he talks to you while fucking, his warm breath tickling your ear and neck.

when he cums, though, he'll moan loud enough that you're certain the other students could hear from their dorms. he loves when you're riding on top of him and your hand covers his mouth when he cums, enjoying the bit of dominance you get over him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

if there is one way to get dominance over angus it's to kiss and bite at his neck and ears, it'll leave him melting and begging you to keep going. when you bite and suck at his skin he'll let out the most pitiful, whiny moans and can be convinced to do almost anything.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

angus is a thin and lanky guy, muscle mass isn't his friend and it never will be. you love that about him.

he also has a bigger-than-average dick, that's what you love about him even more. it's around 7.5" and it's decently girthy, but not crazy. the best part about him is that he can actually use it well–lucky you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

angus has a high sex drive and it surprised you. it can even be a little annoying sometimes, especially when you are stressed with homework and he's sitting next to you in the library with his hand trying to find its way into your skirt while hidden under the table. you can't hide the fact that you love the attention and whenever you're in the mood he's ready and waiting patiently.

he always says how he's so lucky to have the hottest girlfriend, so can you blame him for being constantly horny around you?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he's a heavy sleeper. seriously, the dude is like a rock when he falls asleep and he falls asleep fast. one second he'll be cleaning you up with a towel and the next his face is buried into your neck and hair, snoring gently into your ear. it's very cute.

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #dominic sessa #the holdovers #wordsbyspatial #spatialanswers

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badly-gravity-blog · 3 months ago

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If you're willing to share, can I see some of your fan kids? :D I absolutely adore fan kids!!

My first asks is about my gremlins — i couldn’t be happier thank you so much !

I’m working on a post with one of them :3

Currently I have two kids only !

- Mags, short for Magpie because Dipper -> bird muaha… BillDip Kid !

- Sigh. Bloodthor Maximillius Mandelbrot, nicknamed Mandel or Mandy or hell feel fancy and call him Max…. BillFord atrocious kid.

Refs rrrright under, my soggy boys 💕

#ask #ask box #billdip #billford #first ask yippee !!#fankid #fanchild #billdip fanchild #BillFord fanchild #Mandel would definitely need friends or more #don’t hesitate to have him interact with y’all fankids.#Mags is… another case #hehe #Mandel #Magpie #Mags #also Mags parent is my human bill while I’m thinking that Mandel’s Bill is the og shaped one

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year ago

Text

Rigor Mortis (prologue)

College roommate Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 1

summary: Relationships end. People die. You move on, and Miguel does too. (roommate! Miguel O'Hara x reader, college-ish au).

warnings: no warnings, just angsty asf

a/n: this is the culmination of lots and lots of planning and me writing non-stop for a good few weeks. the next part will be much longer, and updates will be wednesdays until further notice. thank you for all your support! If you'd like to be tagged, see this post.

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys :D

Join my taglists here <3

wc: 1.1k

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

rigor mortis,

You're sitting at a diner, the one on 57th. At almost 11pm, it's… quiet. The gentle bustle of a waitress behind the counter, coffee mugs and sizzling pans. To your side, a little old woman tucked into the booth. Bright red lipstick and bold eyeliner against tan skin, wrists heavy with bangles against the counter. It's animated: feather boa, green leather jacket - and you think you spy the padding of some slippers from underneath the table. She clinks and clanks, and it makes you smile in spite of yourself. Peeling walls, cramped booths. Warm. Steady. Pam's Diner, on the corner, but you've got to use the side entrance, 'cuz the front's been bolted shut since the 50s. Don't ask questions.

"Mags, honey… I just want to… can you get your mom for me?" She's squinting into her phone now, nose pressed to the screen. You can only imagine the view from there; a facetime call with a smudge of eyebrow taking up most of the little box.

It's odd, but you like to sit near the door. Some pancakes, a milkshake, or a bitter cup of coffee now that you're older: people watching, as you've always called it. Okay, maybe it's more than odd . Maybe even serial killer adjacent - people-watching, like the night stalkers in cheesy slashers. But it's fun, looking for a story in everyone that walks in.

In your hometown, you had your first date in a booth just like this one. Back pressed against once-bright cushions, tight skirt digging into your back, and at 15 you had sat and waited with wide eyes. Waited, and watched. The woman with a blue hair-tie at the counter: a new mom, definitely. She looks tired, a mystery stain on the cotton of her joggers and deep rims around her eyes. A jitter in her hands, and she's probably got a piece of shit boyfriend on the couch; wringing his hands at looking after the little one, at being a fucking dad, for once, and… oh. The bell of the front entrance rings, and another woman walks in, and catches the eye of Blue Hair Tie. A warm smile, a tight arm around her waist. You watch as she takes up the other's jittery hand in her own. Partner? Fling? You know now; it doesn't matter, not really. Hands still, the shaking slows, and they are loved.

Your date had been late, of course. But what had been your first in a line of disappointing men is long forgotten in the haze of adulthood.

"I know, sweetheart-" the older woman in the booth next to you almost shouts, making you jump. "...those are very pretty shoes… but, could you… Hand the phone over to mom, okay?“

Someone answers with cooing and soft babbling, and then there's raspy laughter from the woman near you. It rings off the tiles: sonorous and full-bodied, wraps around you like a warm hug. It makes you feel a little less lonely, for now.

As of exactly 9.42pm, you are single. A four year relationship, over in the space of less than 20 minutes. A cup of watery decaf, and it's all over before you can finish it. I'll stay at my sister's, and you move out by the end of the month. No theatrics, not a trace of tears. You had wanted to cry, to kick and scream and beg, but more than anything, you were numb. Crystalline and still with shock, at how clinical it all felt. Sitting in your favourite diner, the humdrum of the city just past the glass; it still felt… lonely. And when he left; placed money on the counter, took his copy of keys off the table, and didn't look back ; it was cold.

You remember what he had said so many nights ago, God, years back, when he was studying for undergrad, and would crack open anatomy textbooks on the little desk in your dorm. He'd trace the lines of your arm, poke the flesh as you'd giggle and recite his notes into your skin.

that… tickles! what are y-you… ohh my God-

Stay still! This is.. important…

… I swear, I'll start screaming if you-

Pallidity, cooling, stiffness-

that's it, I'm screaming… I'm gonna do it-

It's not gonna learn itself, baby. Pallor, algor…

and rigor, right?

…

I listen. Sometimes.

…rigor, livor mortis and decay. The stages of death.

I thought you wanted to be a surgeon, baby, not the grim reaper.

Very funny. It's still important to know about these things, no?

I guess? But if you're gonna be saving lives…

That's not how it works. I'm not God. I make mistakes, people die. I do everything right-

People die.

Right. Above all, I'm in the business of people. Whilst they're alive and when they're gone, what they leave behind…

…but that's not really your job, is it? And don't give me all that, it's a vocation crap-

I don't know what to tell you. It is. It's bigger than me.

…it's long and hard and killing you slowly.

…

Shit. Jamie, I didn't mean to-

Rigor mortis. Post-mortem 'stiffness' or rigidity, which occurs one to two hours after death.

I'm sorry, I wasn't th-

The summation of unraveling: a temporary stasis, which could be described as 'frozen' in time or place, often mirroring the cause of death-

Jesus, I'm not trying to fight-

..where a body becomes a dead body. Colloquially, referred to as Alius Mortem, or; another death.

The phrase stuck, acting as a cruel count for the eventual decay of your relationship. Resentment, on both ends, had burned out that flame long before the breakup. Jamie was cruel, in some ways. You were cruel in others.

"Alice! Just wanted to say hi, cupcake; missed your voice… oh yeah… mhmm… she's just like you, can talk for the trees…" With the rasp of laughter in the booth next to you, it spreads the kind of warmth that stings.

There's a spark of self awareness at the back of your throat; the bitter taste of realisation. It's not meant to feel like this, is it? The end of almost a half-decade of your life, an era, the culmination of decisions good and bad and gray that have led you up to this moment. There should be… passion. Fighting, maybe. Tears. Instead of a supernova, you find yourself floating in the empty vacuum of space: an acrid taste left in your mouth.

"Oh God, have you and the girls been eating well? Let me come over tomorrow, drop you off some stuff…I don't trust half the crap in that cupboard of yours-" There is love and light in her voice, despite groans from the tinny speakers of her phone. Your chest is hot; something leaden and heavy that sits in the crook of ribcage. Bittersweet, like rotting fruit in the cradle of a tree trunk.

Maybe it's the coffee. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Over the past few years, a thousand cuts. And now, in the yellow lights of the little diner on the corner of 57th; another death.

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

@teacoffeeflavored @chuuyara@qiapia@rotten-zombi3@bonbyon @tianyhi @noelsilly @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @peachsteven @thesquidni@fatenpara @verr-uckt @kurakasabe @kamiko32 @mushy-mushroom04@izzys-hawttea@theandromedastar @wicked-futures @truthuntolddd @prettygirlpattinson @hellokittylover202 @angel-eyes05 @lacedinweb22 @starguiders @buggiecrawls @eugeab @tarjapearce @whoreloll @path0logicalpeoplepleaser @ancientbeing10 @shartythefarty@royalhearts

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #angst #eventual smut #kat_writes😼

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cultofdixon · 1 year ago

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Vocalize What’s Inside

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • SFW/ANGST • Risking your life countless times for someone who doesn’t notice, only for you to realize it was never one sided • TW: Scars / Nightmares / PTSD / Injuries

Daryl Dixon, man of a few words and certainly someone who doesn’t just share with anybody…

Found a soft spot for you.

“Y/N, Daryl. Go on the next run will yea? You know what we’ll need” Rick states heading straight to the gardens of the prison.

“He’s quick with it I guess.” Y/N laughs a bit going to get her gear as Daryl watches her until the second she entered the prison.

“You’re staring”

Daryl froze hearing the other Grimes’ voice catch him off guard. He turns to Carl seeing his mischievous smile plastered on his face and next thing you know, Daryl pushes him into the dirt.

“Mind yer business”

“Then stop staring that like you’re gonna die if she leaves your sight!”

“CARL” Rick yells out spotting his son bothering Daryl and once Carl groans running over to him. He gave Daryl a shrug in response to his son being annoying.

As Y/N was heading out of the cell block she was stopped by her name being called by Maggie. She sets her bag by the door before running up the stairs to head to her cell.

“Need something Mags?”

“A little favor. Rick ain’t quiet and said you were going on a run.”

“Yeah, with Daryl. So…this favor?” Y/N smiles sitting beside Maggie on her cot.

The roaring of Daryl’s bike made Y/N run over faster climbing onto the back of his bike throwing his crossbow over her shoulder. He pats her thigh for her to scoot closer and wrap her arms around his torso.

“What took yea so long?”

“Girl things”

“Right. Don’t tell me anymore” Daryl scoffs with a bit of a laugh as Y/N rolls her eyes smiling holding onto him tightly when he started to drive once Carl and Rick opened the gate for them.

The drive felt longer than usual as Daryl took a longer route to show his rider a bit of the quiet in the storm. He may have not seen it but the way she relaxes against him, he knows she’s smiling watching everything go by.

“Imma hit up the pharmacy and you sweep the the grocer?”

“Mm. Should stick together”

“I’ve handled my fair share of walkers, D. I’ll holler if it gets too much” Y/N squeezes his bicep with a smile on her way to the small pharmacy they found a bit ago.

Daryl being quick as he was, swept the building and got what seemed useful before entering the pharmacy finding Y/N scrambling through the ruins. He was going to ask to help her find whatever she needed but when she shot up suddenly from crouching, she held up a pregnancy test and read it carefully. Was she seein’ somebody else in the prison? Part of him felt jealous and another was toward his insecurity.

“Hey”

The way she didn’t tense when he called toward her. Y/N turned to him shooting a smile his direction as she didn’t bother hiding the box.

“Hey sorry, was I taking forever? I had to find somethin’ for Maggie”

“I’m takin’ it’s what in yer hands?” thank god it’s not for you. Daryl propped himself against one of the empty shelves as Y/N nods while she stuffs it in her backpack.

“Can’t tell them you saw, okay?”

“Okay” Daryl nods watching her smile and god does he take a mental picture of it. “I’ve got everythin’” he says heading out of the building as Y/N trails behind him after snagging a few more things.

It didn’t take long for the archer to get in some trouble, but even shorter time for Y/N to quickly body slam the walker away from him knocking it off it’s feet. Daryl looked at her with pure confusion as to why the hell she did that.

“Don’t do that!”

“It got the walker off you!”

“Don’t matter! You could’ve been grabbed. Scratched. Fuck! Just don’t do that” Daryl snaps annoyed going to put an arrow through the walker’s head before retrieving said arrow and heading back to his bike. “Let’s go”

She felt defeated even when saving him. Yeah, it didn’t need to be that “dramatic” but he really doesn’t understand why she would do that when he could’ve handled it.

Once the two returned to the prison, Rick noticed Daryl’s annoyed expression over what happened as Y/N tried her best not to look too upset with herself. He was going to ask Daryl how the run was but he immediately dropped his bag of supplies to his feet before storming off.

“What’d you do?”

“What didn’t I do” Y/N sighs. “I have to get something to somebody but then I’ll put the rest in the pantry. Okay?”

“I’ll take care of his stash…Uhm. Give him space I guess?” Rick frowns as Y/N nods walking past him after getting off Daryl’s bike.

“What’s up yours?” Carol scoffs watching her best friend approach her with annoyance and a bit of rage. “Cmon. What’s wrong pookie?”

“Don’t. I ain’t in the goddamn mood for nicknames” He groans sitting at the table Carol was currently residing.

“Then talk about it or I’m leavin’”

“It’s Y/N!”

“Oh, oh!” Carol suddenly started smiling expecting the obvious but was soon met with a shake of the archer’s head as her smile instantly faded. “Oh…so what then?”

“Got in a bit of a mess with a walker. And she just. Fucking slammed against it”

“Taking it was about to topple you over or it was already on top of you”

“Don’t justify what she did”

“I mean. You both aren’t hurt are you?”

“No! But still reckless” Daryl sighs resting his face in his hands. “That shit scared the fuck outta me”

Carol knew not to press it any further and comfort the archer after a stressful moment. He knows why he’s acting such a way but even if it wasn’t for that he would still worry about the damn girl.

“You scared him. That’s what yea did” Maggie states on one side of the half wall as she was taking the test that Y/N sought out for her.

“I understand. But should I apologize? Or do you think he will get even madder”

“Is that even a word? No. It is a word. Just sounds funny” Maggie referred to “madder” which steered the conversation but as she was worrying about a possible mini Glenn happening, Y/N knew she would have to apologize. At least to see if that will make him less mad.

But she didn’t see him until the planned run with Rick and Michonne to possibly tame some horses they found a herd running through. The two sat in the bed of the truck with the things they will need and the ride was slow enough to hear the other person if they talked.

“Hey Daryl?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry about the body block the other day. Or whatever you call what I did…”

“It’s fine” Daryl sighs scratching the side of his face as he didn’t wait for Y/N to say another word once the truck stopped and he got out.

The group found one of the horses from the herd it was a part of. Michonne manages to get the rope around its neck to try and get it to calm enough for one of the others to climb on its back. But before Rick could even try, the horse started bucking. It’s not just humans that don’t like to be tied against their will.

Y/N dodged every blow in her direction and noticed it get dangerously close to Daryl. Right as he was about to have a blow landed in his abdomen, Y/N was stupid again pushing the archer out of the way and getting kicked instead.

She is shorter than Daryl. Not by a lot but enough for the blow to be directly in the chest when he would’ve been hit in the stomach.

The poor girl landed hard on her back after getting kicked that the wind got knocked out of her.

“Shit!” Daryl yells quickly addressing the situation watching her gasp for air for a moment. Michonne came over to help her sit up to get her to try and take deep breaths. “I fucking hate horses”

“It’s okay. You’re okay” Michonne reassures Y/N as she finally got a few deep breaths in but her chest was hurting even more now. “Come on. Let’s get yea back”

“Look here y’all!” Rick yells catching everyone’s attention as he managed to get the horse tamed. “Now we got another form of transportation”

“Now I hate you” Daryl snaps helping Michonne with getting Y/N up and back to the truck.

Daryl took over driving and had Y/N in the front with him while Michonne sat in the truck bed and Rick had his ride. He kept glancing at her every now and then watching the discomfort grow based on her expression which lead to the drive being slower and much longer.

Once the four returned to the prison and Carl was personally excited to see the horse his dad brought back. Y/N slowly stepped out of the car holding her chest as Michonne went to her immediately once getting out. Daryl was about to help but Michonne waved him off like “I’ve got this” and leaving the archer to stew once again.

“Hey grumpy. I heard about what happened to Y/N, but Hershel said she’ll be okay” Carol makes her presence known when joining the archer in the watchtower while carrying dinner she made. Another stew. Not that he ever complains. “Thought you would’ve liked an update” she says calmly as she handed the bowl to Daryl watching him happily accept.

“She scared me once again” he frowns staring at the bowl. “And got hurt this time”

“She’s gonna be okay and it would’ve been you that had gotten hurt instead—-“

“I wish it was! And I ain’t gonna confront her about it cuz I’ll hear her say some bullshit that my life matters too or somethin’”

“But it does” Carol smacks his shoulder catching him off guard. “You never care for yourself, Daryl. It’s obvious you give 100% into caring for others. But not for yourself…so seriously. Take a second and realize. How much she cares for you”

It was obvious to others that watched the two interact. Y/N cared deeply for Daryl as he did for her. She would go out of her way to make sure he was okay even when she wasn’t alright herself. As Daryl took the time to be by her side when she needed it. When it became more of caring for the physical well-being. They wanted each other safe, but Y/N was willing to risk herself to the extreme if it meant he was okay.

She knows her limits. But she can’t lose him.

And he doesn’t want to lose her.

“Ey, no bike ridin’” Daryl stops Y/N in her tracks as she gave him a disappointed look before nodding. “Just until the bruising clears” he gestures to his own chest to indicate what’s really on hers. Her bruises peaked out from her tank top. The horse really got her. “But we uh, can use one of the cars”

“You’re still letting me go on the run…even when you’re mad about—-“

“I ain’t mad…just, wish yea didn’t do that” Daryl opened the car door for Y/N. She knew as she entered that the archer could notice the blush that had formed to the gesture. Hell, the tint of pink on the tip of his ears would give him away.

The two have always done runs just the two of them. Daryl didn’t want to stop doing that because he was overwhelmingly worried about the woman he cares deeply for. He knows he can protect her outside the prison, the best he could.

“Maybe since we aren’t on your bike we could go a bit further? Even make camp a night” Y/N asks Daryl as the two were at an abandoned gas station looking at a map from the glovebox on the hood of the car after siphoning the surrounding cars for gas.

“Already told Rick we’d be a while. Didn’t mean hours or days so, yeah. Why not” Daryl pulls away from the hood to grab his crossbow to load back up as Y/N folded the map and did the same.

Going through the passing neighborhoods, they found plenty of stuff for everybody. Especially cans of food and formula for Judith.

Once Daryl got the can trigger line and Y/N secured their findings in the car, they regrouped in the center of their small campsite. Y/N held herself as the night breeze that came through still drew goosebumps even with the small fire Daryl had made to help cook the rabbit he caught on the run.

“Watch this?” Daryl gestures to the catch watching Y/N nod before getting up to grab something from the car.

Y/N watches the rabbit cook and flipped it when she thought it needed to be. She flinched when she heard the archer curse and the shut of the trunk.

“Daryl?”

“Sorry” Daryl came back handing Y/N his poncho to help with her small shiver as she couldn’t keep it to herself when noticing he was hiding his other hand.

“What happened?” She frowns putting the poncho on staring directly at his hidden hand.

“Nothin’. It’s nothing”

“Daryl. Come on”

“Y/N. It’s seriously noth—-“

“Shut the fuck up” Y/N suddenly snaps feeling her face heat up on anger and a bit of embarrassment as Daryl looks at her surprised. “You can’t hide an injury. I know better than anyone how hard that can be…I don’t care how small it is, D. Just let me fucking see it”

Not another word was shared as Daryl watches Y/N be ever so careful with the cut in his palm using her medical supplies she always carries. Enough for a few cuts here and there. Not enough to cause a dent in their supply that Hershel keeps inventory on.

Daryl waited for her to finish patching him up to carefully take one of her hands into his. The gesture made her look up from their laps showing the tears that threatened to spill, finally do so.

“You care so much for me…”

“Yeah, I do…”

“Why am I worth it to yea?”

“Because your life matters yknow. You may not think it does, but it does…and I can’t lose you. You mean so much more to me than you think”

“C’mere then” Daryl gently tugs her toward him wrapping his arms around her once she got close enough to lean on him feeling his arms tighten enough but not too much to cause discomfort. “Let me take care of yea, too”

The days went by slowly after that interaction…the archer found himself being more mindful of his surrounding for his well-being as well as others. He made sure to take in every second of every day and make sure he comes back at the end of it.

To her.

“You wanna go for a ride?” Daryl leans over Y/N as she was reading at one of the tables outside.

“For a run?”

“Nah, one of those rides”

Y/N leans back into him looking up slightly with a smile, feeling his lips press a kiss to her forehead.

“C’mon then”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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meowmeow-motherfucker · 1 month ago

Text

Covenant- Chapter 14

Summary: With the five year anniversary of the attack on New York approaching, Odin and Fury come to the agreement that an arranged marriage between Asgard and Earth would show good faith toward all future interactions. When Odin refuses Jane’s candidacy, Agent Coulson is tasked with finding a suitable wife for the prince of Asgard.

Pairing: Loki x OFC Claire Fisher

Word count: 10k (prepare drinks and snackies as always)

Chapter warnings: idiots in love being idiots, violence, discussion of women being abused and treated like property, things in Asgard are not what they seem

Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtiggerv2 @icytrickster17 @mysteriouslyfriedjellyfish @lokislilkitten @justjoanne242 @amlocked @ddmariegirl @mags-04-blog @sharris8 @meepycheep @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @the-fantasy-loving-angel @jaidenhawke @smolvenger @ladymischief11 @huntress-artemiss

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Thanks for coming along on this journey with me! Buckle up gang :D

Read it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51197938/chapters/129363727

Loki stared at the note he'd received with disdain.

Come over? I need to talk to you.

His wife was persistent, he would grant her that. She’d sent him yet another missive, this one more desperate than the last. In the two weeks since they’d returned from the coast he’d seen neither hide nor tail of his wife, and instead of knowing a moment of peace like he’d hoped, he’d been kept up to date on her goings-on by his meddling mother. Not that Claire needed the help; she’d found a way to occupy his mind on her own. He glanced down at the note once more.

What drivel. Loki tossed the note into the fire and watched the flames turn her words to ash.

“Shall I tell the princess not to expect you, Your Majesty?” Astrid asked from the doorway.

“If it pleases you.” Loki replied, turning back to his work. He had a stack of reports to sift through before the next council meeting in two days and he did not have the time to coddle annoying Midgardians.

“I shall inform her on my way to collect your supper,” Astrid replied, curtsying before she left the room and made her way across the palace. “A message for Her Majesty.” She announced at the door. Before Gunnar could so much as turn to knock, Claire ripped the door open eagerly.

“I heard footsteps and-” her face fell as she realized it was Astrid at her door. “He's not coming, is he?”

“I'm afraid not, Your Majesty.” Astrid said apologetically. Claire swallowed, her eyes downcast.

“Oh. Okay. Cool. Thanks Astrid,” She said dejectedly. “Gunnar, will you send for Ragna, please?”

“Right away, Your Majesty.”

Ragna arrived less than ten minutes later to find the princess pacing angrily in front of the fireplace.

“Fucking asshole-too good to even tell me to fuck off himself-I’ll show him!” she muttered as she turned, her stormy expression brightening as she noticed Ragna. “Ragna! Hi!”

“You asked for me, Your Majesty?”

“Yes! I’ve had an idea- I wanna have a party.”

“A party?”

“Yeah! Nothing fancy, just a couple friends, lots of snacks and drinks, games...you know, fun.”

“Would this be related to His Majesty the prince rebuffing your invitation?” Claire burst out laughing, the joy a welcome change from her crushing loneliness.

“Way to read me for filth, Ragna, jesus.” she chortled. Ragna’s face transformed into a mask of horror, her eyes welling with fearful tears as her eyes cast about for a lifeline.

“Oh no-I didn’t- you’re not filth, Your Majesty I would never-!”

“Ragna, it’s okay,” Claire soothed her. “I promise. You’re right. But let’s not think about that asshat-” Ragna whimpered as she dropped her gaze to the floor. “What do you do for fun here? Anything, anything!”

“Me?”

“Yeah! Sky’s the limit.”

“I...well- I like to dance.”

“Excellent!” Claire cried excitedly. “How about I teach you some Midgardian dancing?”

“I am invited?” Ragna asked in surprise.

“Of course; you’re my closest friend in this place.” Claire laughed. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Well…” Ragna worried her lower lip between her teeth before a sheepish smile stole across her delicate features. “If you insist.”

~~~~

In Loki’s office, silence reigned apart from the scratching of Loki’s quill. Intently focused, Loki wrote diligently until the sound of the heavy doors to his chambers opening announced Astrid’s return. A few moments later, her footsteps arrived in the doorway to his office.

“Supper is on the table, Your Majesty.” she announced, curtsying when he glanced up at her.

“Thank you,” Loki murmured as he finished writing his sentence. “Something else you’d like to say?”

“Just that Her Majesty seemed rather disappointed,” Astrid replied, eyes darting up to meet Loki’s. “Perhaps His Majesty was too hasty in his decision?”

“No,” Loki shook his head. “She is playing a game, nothing more.”

“As His Majesty wishes,” Astrid deflected, dropping her gaze to the floor. She looked up at Loki sharply with a short huff. “You didn’t see her face. Her disappointment was genuine.”

“Her Majesty is a self-described excellent actress; of course it seemed genuine,” Loki said dismissively. He strode past Astrid, leaving the office in favor of sitting to eat his supper. “You may go.”

“I suppose even princes can be wrong,” Astrid curtsied, ignoring Loki’s icy glare as she walked toward the door. “Good night, Your Majesty.” Loki huffed as the door closed behind her, the vein in his temple pulsing as he flexed his jaw angrily.

~~~~

Claire glanced around the room with satisfaction, a feeling resembling happiness welling in her chest. She’d had an extra lounge brought in for additional seating, and plush cushions to allow for more seating around the room if desired. The low table in the middle of the room was adorned with a small selection of games and Claire’s portable speaker- ready to be pushed to the side to create an intimate dance floor when they were ready. The desk, freshly burdened with an array of delicious looking snacks, gleamed in the candlelight from the tall candlesticks standing sentry behind the heaping platters of food. A sweating pitcher of delicate glass stood alone on the desk corner, the sweet red wine inside coloring the translucent glass a ruddy brown. Freshly cut flowers dotted the room with color, their sweet scent filling the air.

It was nowhere near what Claire would have done back home, but it was nice. She wasn’t sure how many ladies were going to show up, but she was determined to enjoy tonight regardless. She looked down, hands smoothing her soft cotton tee. The shirt was a favorite, the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo emblazoned on the chest long since faded and balding in patches. A black halter top sat snug against her skin underneath, tucked inside a pair of black leggings.

So definitely not princess levels of sophistication, but it was comfortable and something she would wear to a party back home. Claire wanted to feel normal tonight, and anyone who took issue with it could kick rocks.

Gunnar’s soft knock announced the first guests arrival, the golden doors swinging inward to let whoever it was inside.

To Claire’s surprise, it was all of her ladies. They’d changed their clothes- their servants uniforms long gone and replaced with comfortable looking tunics and loose bottoms resembling yoga pants. All seemed apprehensive, uncomfortable outside of their uniforms perhaps, but stepped inside when Claire welcomed them.

“Please, help yourself to snacks and wine,” Claire said, taking the time to greet each woman personally as they passed. “I know tonight is a little different than what we’ve been doing, but I really do hope you all enjoy yourselves and that we can have a good time together.”

“It looks lovely, Your Majesty,” Kari praised, squeezing Claire’s hand when the princess clasped them together. “Whoever helped you did a lovely job.”

“Oh I did it,” Claire said. “The spare lounge and cushions were delivered, as were the flowers and the snacks, but I arranged it,” she explained. “It’s not quite like home, but it’s nice.”

“I’m most excited for my first Midgardian style party.” Kari said eagerly before moving on to the snacks. Another knock on the door announced another wave of guests, and Claire was excited to see another cluster of serving women. She welcomed them all and urged them to help themselves to snacks. The women seemed somewhat hesitant, but fell into rank behind Claire’s ladies at the snack table. Gunnar knocked yet again, and Clairelooked over to see far more of the ladies of the court than expected standing at the threshold.

“Ladies! Welcome!” she crowed, a genuine smile lighting up her face as they crossed the threshold. “I wasn’t expecting so many of you!” The serving ladies at the table had all paused, their training forcing them to abstain from selecting snacks before the noblewomen.

“One does not simply ignore an invitation to a Midgardian style party,” one lady piped up, stepping through the group eagerly. Claire did not recognize her right away- she’d not seen many women with red hair in Asgard. “I deeply appreciate the invitation, Your Majesty. One doesn’t often get party invitations from a stranger. I am Lady Ingrid, from the northern province.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Claire stuck out her hand on instinct, smiling when Lady Ingrid shook her hand. She was dressed in a deep blue dress, not overtly fancy, but classy and understated. Her deep red hair was pinned in plaits at the back of her head, but otherwise floated loosely about in a cascade of fire. “I was right then; we haven’t met before.”

“Not until this moment,” Lady Ingrid laughed warmly. “My husband, Lord Bjorn, and I arrived just earlier today to announce the impending arrival of our firstborn.” Claire’s eyes were drawn to the small but noticeable bump on Ingrid’s lower belly.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you!” Ingrid beamed. “We are most excited. My husband wants a boy, of course, but I am so hoping for a little girl,” she swooned, her hair floating gracefully around her shoulders. “I am also most excited for tonight’s party, and a chance to become friends with Asgard’s first princess in an age.”

“Oh, please,” Claire cringed. “No titles tonight- just fun. I desperately need friends,” she stage whispered to Ingrid, who smiled brightly. Ingrid squeezed her hands, and left to join the other ladies at the snack table so she could greet the other ladies. Claire overheard her encouraging them to grab what they wanted- they were there first, after all. Claire turned to face the waiting highborn ladies, clapping her hands together. “That applies to everyone. There are no ranks or titles tonight, simply a group of women enjoying good food and good conversation. In this room, we are all equals and we will treat each other as such. If this bothers anyone, you are free to leave.”

Claire wasn’t sure if it was curiosity, or actual acceptance of what she offered, but no one left. The highborn ladies greeted her one by one, thankfully reminding Claire of their names. The seats on the lounges began to fill up, and cushions were put on the floor to give more seating. It was kind of amusing to see the highborn ladies sitting on cushions on the floor while serving ladies sat on the lounges, but Claire kept that to herself. Grabbing her own plate of snacks and a goblet of wine, Claire found a perch on a comfy cushion on the floor by the games.

“So what does one do at a Midgardian party?” Lady Ingrid asked, breaking the ice.

“I have an assortment of games we can play as a group. This one asks a question and everyone answers. I thought we could start with this one, and get familiar with each other. I have other games that smaller groups can play too.”

“Yes! Ask away!” Kari said eagerly, practically bouncing in her seat. Ragna cast her a dubious glance, her more reserved nature making her feel embarrassed to be near the center of attention. Claire opened the small box and flipped over the first card inside.

“Who is your celebrity crush?” she asked the group.

“PRINCE THOR!” Kari shouted, her eager response earning a chorus of shrieking laughter. More names were called, names that Claire didn’t recognize. Someone shouted the Gothi, which made Claire chortle to think about the Asgardian flavor of a priest kink.

“I think Hogun is very handsome.” Lady Agatha announced demurely. She was seated very primly, thin fingers holding her goblet delicately. Her blonde hair shone in the candlelight, giving her an ethereal glow.

“I think so too.” Claire agreed. “Especially when he puts his hair up in a bun-” she sighed wistfully. “He’s adorable.”

“Your Majesty-” Ingrid clucked from Claire’s left, shooting her playful side eye as she sipped from her goblet. “Lusting after a man who is not your husband?” she teased.

“Oh please, like I’m the only woman who’s ever done that,” Claire chortled. “I’m not saying I want to sleep with him, I just think he’s easy on the eyes. Agatha, want me to introduce you?” she offered the blonde, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. Agatha’s cheeks blazed pink with embarrassment as she shook her head.

“At least Hogun has a sense of honor, and dignity,” Holga offered from her seat. “Unlike a certain member of the warriors three.” she mumbled into her goblet.

“Oh Norns above, yes,” clucked an older serving woman. “That Fandral has not a lick of decency- he spends far too much time thinking with the head below his belt if you know what I mean.”

“Which by all accounts is not that impressive.” Ragna offered scathingly.

“It isn’t.” Kari confirmed quietly.

“Neither are!” the women erupted into laughter once more at Fandral’s expense.

“I feel pity for whoever’s had the misfortune of being under that lout,” the older serving woman sighed. “Prince Loki however…” she grinned at Claire conspiratorily. “Stories abound about that one.”

“Oh no,” Claire shook her head, already sensing where the conversation was headed. “No no no, I am not discussing-”

“Oooh, but whatever happened?!” Agatha asked. “You were both so enamored with each other!”

“Like smitten younglings!” Ingrid cackled beside Claire, giggling like an unrepentant toddler when Claire glared at her.

“How would you even know?!” Claire squawked.

“Palace gossip, of course,” Ingrid winked. “Sooo...what happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Claire insisted. “I mean yes, things used to be different, and now they are the way they are now,” she said somberly, shaking her head to clear her darkening thoughts. “Anyway, who’s ready for some music?” An excited air filled the room as Claire turned on her portable speaker. A chorus of eager chatter was drowned out by the table scraping as it was moved aside to clear space for the women to dance.

~~~~

Loki stabbed at his meal with defeat. The half-eaten venison inched across the charger, metal tines squeaking. The offensive sound made Loki grumble with anger, discontent bubbling in his belly the longer he sulked. Astrid’s words ate at him, turning his voracious appetite into acid.

Was he being too harsh?

Perhaps Astrid was right. He should at least check on his wife. Chair scraping against the floor, Loki abandoned his dinner and made his way across the palace.

Instead of a morose wife, Loki turned down her hallway to hear the echoes of music and merrymaking. The tune was an unfamiliar one, with a low beat and frenetic pace.

As he came to a stop outside the door, he heard the unmistakable sound of his wife laughing.

“Who needs husbands?!” she shouted gleefully, a cacophony of feminine laughter joining hers.

Disappointed, indeed.

“Shall I announce you, Your Majesty?” Gunnar asked tentatively.

“Absolutely not. I’ve heard enough.” Loki made a swift departure, his stomach sinking with each step he took.

~~~~

The party finally died down well past the midnight hour. The snacks were all eaten, the drinks all consumed. The women had danced until their feet ached, and laughed until their faces hurt. It was a very welcome change, in Claire’s opinion, as her herd of new friends said their goodbyes. As she waved the last guests off, Claire breathed a sigh of relief as Gunnar closed the door. Only she and Ragna remained, and Claire was ready to collapse.

“Is there anything else I can assist you with, Your Highness?” Ragna asked politely. Claire looked up to see the servant standing by the door, waiting to be dismissed. Though she did her best to appear calm, Claire could see that something was bothering her. Ragna was acting strange tonight, and Claire could tell she was unsettled about something. It was later than Claire would usually dismiss her, maybe that was it? Claire had had the feeling in the weeks since Kari’s murder, if she was honest. Whatever it was, Claire hoped Ragna took her up on her offer.

“Um…” Claire looked about the room, trying to think if she needed anything else. She had the feeling that Ragna didn’t really want to leave, but could think of nothing to ask for. Ragna had already cleaned her chambers top to bottom so well that they were practically sparkling. “I think I’m all settled for the evening, Ragna. Thank you.”

“As you wish, ma’am.” Ragna curtsied, obediently turning to leave her chambers even though she felt numb inside.

“Actually- Ragna?” Claire called after the woman.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Would you like to stay for a bit?” Claire asked. “Maybe hang out?”

“Hang out?” Ragna gave a soft laugh of disbelief, blocking the doorway as she stared at Claire in open confusion.

“You work really hard and I thought you might like to stick around and enjoy yourself for a little while.” Claire had been trying (and failing) to convince Ragna to tell her who’d been abusing her. Her bruises had long since faded, but Claire remembered them vividly, and she had no doubt Ragna did too.

“Enjoy myself?” Ragna murmured the words as if they were a revelation.

“You know, relax,” Claire said. “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, it’s just that…you never seem to want to go wherever it is you go when you leave me for the night.”

“I sincerely apologize, Your Majesty,” Ragna gave a deep sweeping curtsy. “I never meant to impose upon you.”

“No, no, it’s fine; I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay. I know someone is abusing you. Whoever it is, I want to help.”

Ragna was panicked. She desperately wished to stay with the princess, but she’d said she didn’t need anything else, and she wasn’t supposed to linger. She was supposed to do whatever was asked of her and leave.

“Is there anything else you require?” she asked meekly. Please. Ragna begged silently. Please need something.

“Oh, um...I was just offering. I don’t need anything, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, that’s all.”

“I couldn’t, Your Majesty, I- I have to rise early to prepare your breakfast and-”

“Okay, that’s fine. Really, it’s okay,” Claire said soothingly, offering the nervous woman a smile. “I truly was just offering. Enjoy the rest of your night; I’ll see you tomorrow.”

No! Ragna screamed internally. She didn’t want to leave. But she had to. Her master was waiting.

“Ragna?” Claire’s voice broke Ragna out of her thoughts. “Are you okay?” Ragna nodded shakily. “You know you can talk to me right?”

Could she? Could the princess actually help her? As long as her needs were met, would she even care what odious things happened to her? No one had ever cared.

“I am fine,” Ragna lied, every word tasting bitter and wrong. “If you’ve no further need of me, I shall retire.”

“Okay then. Good night.” Claire smiled again, not a trace of ire on her face. Perhaps Ragna could trust her after all. But not yet. Not until she was sure.

“Good night, Your Majesty.” Ragna left, hating her cowardly behavior more and more with each step.

Claire let her go, even though every instinct in her told her not to. She couldn’t force Ragna to talk to her; it had to be her choice. But if she let Ragna leave, she could be hurt again.

Claire jumped up from the lounge and flung open the door, catching Gunnar by surprise.

“RAGNA!” Claire shouted down the empty hallway, eyes scanning for her friend. There wasn’t a soul in sight except for Gunnar. She was about to have Gunnar send for Ragna when she heard footsteps racing back toward her door. Ragna appeared from inside a hidden door along the hallway, looking flustered and (dare Claire hope) relieved.

“Your Majesty,” Ragna greeted her, her curtsy seamless as she came to a stop in front of Claire’s doorway. “You called?”

“Yes, I…” Claire trailed off. “Did you come out of a secret passage?”

“It is not secret, simply used only by staff,” Ragna replied perfunctorily. “Did you have need of me?”

“Yes.”

“Forgive me, I...thought you dismissed me for the evening.” Ragna looked at Claire questioningly.

“Yes, well...I changed my mind,” Ragna’s expression brightened, and her lips curled into a smile. “Come in.”

“What can I do for you?” Ragna asked.

“Absolutely nothing,” Claire replied. “You work too hard. I insist you take some time and relax.”

“I can relax in my own chambers-”

“Are you sure about that?” Claire offered. “Because that’s not the vibe I’m getting. Look-” she held up her hands to stay Ragna when the other woman looked ready to bolt. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s okay. I just want to make sure you know I am a safe person to talk to.”

“If it pleases you.” Ragna said softly as she bowed her head.

“It pleases me to know you are safe, that you feel safe,” Claire insisted. “I’d like you to stay here tonight.”

“What?!”

“I’m sure you have a long walk back, right?” Ragna said nothing. “C’mon, I’m dead on my feet and so are you.”

“I couldn’t-”

“Yes you can. The bed is huge and it’ll be easier on your back than the lounge,” Ragna shuffled after Claire without further protest, her silence testament to her exhaustion. Claire stepped behind the teak partition, stripping off her clothes and stepping into her waiting pajamas. “Do you want some pajamas to sleep in?” she asked, but Ragna didn’t answer. Claire peeked around the partition to see Ragna sprawled face down across one side of the bed. She hadn’t even bothered to get under the covers. Claire snorted quietly, padding across the floor to drop her weary frame into the bed beside her friend.

“Sorry I laid down first,” Ragna murmured. “I could barely stand.”

“It’s okay,” Claire replied. “Did you have a good time tonight?” she asked softly.

“This was the best day...I have had in many years,” Ragna smiled, the slow curl of her lips lighting up her face despite the tired slant of her eyes. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Claire sighed as she turned onto her back. “You deserve it,” Ragna gave a soft noise of assent, and Claire grinned as she glanced over at her friend. It was far later than Claire usually released Ragna for the night, and her pleasant face was usually scrunched with anxiety by now. It was a nice change to see her happy and relaxed. “Ragna, you know you can tell me what’s going on, right?” Ragna looked at her like a deer in headlights for a moment, seeming to come to her senses as her eyes darted away.

“I cannot.” she said, her voice tight. Claire turned on her side to face Ragna.

“Whatever it is, I’ll do anything I can to protect you.” Ragna sniffled as tears welled in her eyes, and she avoided Claire’s eyes as she used the pillow to wipe her face.

“You will think less of me.” she murmured, her voice soft and warbled as she fought not to cry.

“I promise you, I won’t,” Claire swore. “You are my friend, and I want to help you. There is nothing you can say that will change that.”

“I...I can’t,” Ragna cried. “You don’t understand, I...I cannot...I have no rights. I am nothing.”

“You are not nothing,” Claire said vehemently. “You are a living, breathing person, and you have rights. You are kind, and funny and good, and you have value just because you exist.”

“Your Majesty-”

“Claire,” the soft-spoken word corrected Ragna gently. “When it’s just us, you can call me by name. You’re my closest friend, Ragna.”

“Perhaps you need better friends.”

“Please, I’d be lost without you,” Claire snorted, rolling onto her back. “I meant what I said Ragna. It doesn’t make any difference to me what it is.”

“Why are you so desperate to help me?!” Ragna hissed, her anger finally boiling over. “Why do you need to know?! Just...enjoy your privilege and leave me be.”

“Because I can tell that something is wrong and you’re lying through your teeth about it!” Claire snapped back. “Whoever it is, whatever it is, stop deflecting and just tell me!”

“No!”

“Why not?!”

“Because what if you can’t help? What if I let myself hope, and nothing changes?” Ragna asked shakily.

“Ragna…” Claire reached out to grab her friends hand in the dark. “I can’t help unless I know what the problem is.”

“Please don’t be angry with me, I- I could not bear it,” Ragna pleaded, squeezing Claire’s hand like a sailor lost at sea clutches a life raft. “I want to tell you, I do, but I simply cannot.”

“Whoever is doing this conditioned you to think no one will help.” Claire realized.

“No one does,” Ragna said bitterly. “Instead of helping, they are like bilgeshnipe, taking and taking until there is nothing left.”

“I’m not like them, Ragna, please-”

“You are not-” Ragna began to sob. “You are the only person who is kind to me, I would never-”

“Come here, honey,” Claire got up from the bed, offering Ragna a hand up in the dark. “It’s okay, come on,” she steered Ragna into the large bathroom, helping her sit at the edge of the tub. Claire started running the water, making it warm enough to soothe their feet. As the tub filled, Ragna continued to cry, her pitiful cries muffled somewhat by the running water. Once she was satisfied, Claire shut off the water before sitting on the ledge beside Ragna. “Are you okay?” Ragna nodded weakly.

“Why are we sitting in the bath?” she asked softly. Claire smiled kindly.

“My mom used to do this for me when I was upset. Something about it is just soothing, and you clearly need it.”

“Thank you.” Ragna allowed herself to be hugged, her tired frame sagging against Claire’s.

“You’re welcome,” Claire took Ragna’s weight, letting her friend cry as she finger brushed her hair. “I’m not going to push you to talk anymore. Just know I’m here when you’re ready.”

“I don’t like keeping secrets,” Ragna said piteously against Claire’s shoulder, fresh tears falling as she squeezed her eyes shut. “I want to, but I’m afraid.” Claire rubbed her back soothingly, wishing she could choke the life out of whoever hurt Ragna.

“When you’re ready to talk, I will listen,” she promised. “I would like for us to agree to always be honest with each other. To be true friends. I realize there is a power imbalance at play and if you don’t feel comfortable, I understand, but I want you to always feel safe and welcome with me. You have been kind and helpful ever since I arrived and I would like to repay that as best I can.”

“It is my job, Your Majesty.”

“I know, but I think we’ve become closer than our respective titles, don’t you agree?” Claire asked. Ragna nodded, a sheepish smile gracing her delicate features. “You’re not a servant to me, Ragna. You’re my friend. And friends call each other out, like you did earlier.”

“When you said I read you for filth?” Ragna asked, pulling back to look at Claire with confusion. “I don’t even know what that means. Are you...upset?” she cringed.

“To read someone for filth just means that you’re being brutally honest with them. I was upset about Loki and you saw right through me,” Claire laughed. “I’m not mad at all. I’m honestly glad someone saw what I was going through. I need that, because I have a terrible habit of ignoring my feelings and it helps to have a friend remind me when I’m being a dumb ass.”

“I am still your servant, Your-” Ragna stopped herself. “Ma’am.”

“Claire,” Claire nodded suggestively when Ragna looked at her with wide eyes. “It’s okay, you can call me by name.”

“I couldn’t.”

“You have my permission,” Claire promised. “Not that you need it, but it’s there.”

“I remember, from your lessons earlier tonight. You are giving me consent.”

“Exactly. I know you won’t always be able to because of rules, but I want you to feel free to call me by name when it’s just us.”

“Free,” Ragna said wistfully, kicking her feet in the warm water. “I haven’t been free in...I’ve lost track of the years. Decades, perhaps?”

“Decades?” Claire ogled the young woman beside her. “But...you look so young.”

“Bless you,” Ragna smiled. “My people have long lifespans. Not as long as the Aesir, of course, but longer than your people. I am not quite middle-aged, but I shall be soon.”

“Can I ask- what does middle-aged mean for your people?”

“I am just under two hundred years. My people tend to live close to five.”

“Wow,” Claire gasped. “That’s amazing. And you’ve been in Asgard for- you said decades?”

“Yes,” Ragna said sadly. “I have forgotten precisely when my master brought me here. I imagine it is written within the records.”

“What records?” Claire asked.

“My master was required by law to declare what property he brought back from the war,” Ragna explained softly. “All of the soldiers are required to do so.”

“All of them?” Claire felt like the air had been punched from her lungs. Military service was mandatory- Loki had said every man served at his majority. Faces flashed behind Claire’s eyes- Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, Thor, Loki-

“More do than don’t.” Ragna said softly.

“And- what does that even mean- they can’t just take people-”

“But they can,” Ragna replied brokenly. “They can and they do.”

“And what- they just force you to work in their houses or palaces like-” Claire stopped, horrified eyes darting to Ragna’s face. “Like slaves,” Ragna’s gaze dropped in shame. “No...” Tears clouded Claire’s vision as the rug was swept out from under her. It all made perfect sense now- the extravagance, the finery- all of it was to cover the massive pile of shit they’d carved their home out of. And she’d walked right in. “Oh god, I think I’m gonna be sick-”

“I thought you knew.”

“No,” Claire lamented. “Ragna, I swear I didn’t know. I thought- I don’t know what I thought. I assumed you were getting paid.”

“Paid?!” Ragna laughed. “What use does a slave have for wages?”

“I’m so sorry,” Claire sobbed. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know! This is fucked up! How can I fix it? Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“I appreciate the offer, but it is such a widespread problem...I do not know that it can be fixed.”

“How do I help you then?” Claire asked. “Please. Let me help.”

“You...truly wish to help me?” Ragna asked hesitantly.

“Absolutely. What can I do? I’m stuck in this miserable place; let me use my position for something good.”

“I am afraid,” Ragna admitted tearfully. “My master...he is a powerful man, and I fear that no matter what you do-” she sobbed. “It will not be enough. I hate him so much.”

“Is he cruel to you?”

“Always. He-” Ragna burst into fresh tears, dropping her face into her hands. “I cannot speak of it- you shall hate me. I hate myself! I-”

“Ragna, listen to me,” Claire said gently, pulling the weeping woman into her arms. “Remember what I said- there is nothing you can say that would make me hate you. You’ve done nothing wrong. Please let me help you.”

“My master-” Ragna sniffled. “You already know him.” Dread settled in Claire’s stomach like a stone.

“Who is it?” she asked quietly. “Please tell me it’s not-”

“I cannot say, I...you don’t know what he is capable of,” Ragna’s chin quivered as fingers blotted the corners of her eyes. “I’ve given up all hope of escaping him. Sometimes it feels like the only escape will be death.”

“I can teach you how to defend yourself, but let’s focus on getting you safe. What do you need?”

“I’m so sorry. You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

“That’s not going to change, I promise. I’m gonna do everything in my power to get you away from him.”

“But how?” Ragna hiccupped. “I belong to him.”

“You belong to no one but yourself,” Claire replied sincerely, clasping Ragna’s trembling hands in her own. “I swear to you, on my life, Ragna. He will never touch you again.” Ragna burst into fresh tears, collapsing into Claire’s chest and allowing herself to be cradled. Claire rubbed her back soothingly, letting her cry herself out. Inside, she burned with rage and resolve. Tears streamed down her face as she glared up at the golden ceiling. She didn’t know how she would fix this. She and Ragna were two birds trapped in a gilded cage, relentlessly poked with sticks by shady masters, but she’d be damned before anyone ever put their slimy hands on her friend again.

~~~~

Claire waited until Ragna’s breathing evened out before she tiptoed out of her bedroom. In the near darkness of the dying fire, she penned a short note and handed it off to Gunnar to be delivered.

“This goes directly to the prince royal- no one else is to look at it.” she commanded.

“Right away, Your Majesty.” Gunnar said as he accepted the note. Claire breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped back inside to go to bed. She’d sent her plea for help. All she could do now was hope Loki would answer it.

~~~~

At this time of night, very few people were awake. Gunnar was able to find a page wandering by and command the boy to deliver the message. From there, the note was brought to Loki’s chambers by the page and handed to the guard at the door. The guard, much older and wiser than the boy, leveled a deadened stare at the nervous boy.

“Please,” the page murmured. “Her Majesty’s guard said it was urgent.” The guard heaved a sigh, knowing full well the tongue lashing he was about to get. His meaty fist banged upon the gilt door, causing an almighty noise. From within the chambers, the prince’s thundering steps approached, growing louder and louder until the door opened and his murderous face came into view.

“ARE YOU MAD?!” he shouted. “What could possibly be so important in the dead of night?!”

“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty,” the guard said, holding out the folded note to Loki. “You received an urgent message from Her Majesty the princess royal.”

“Oh for Bor’s sake,” Loki growled. “It’s not enough that she must plague my waking hours; now she must plague the night as well?” He ripped the parchment open, brows furrowed deeply as he read the scrawled words. “What am I meant to do with this?”

“I-I-do-don’t know-”

“Speak up, boy.” Loki snapped.

“I don’t know, sire! Her Majesty directed it be brought straight to you; that is all I know!” Loki ticked an angry brow at the frightened boy before crumpling the missive into a ball.

“Well, all I know is that I am going back to bed. Her Majesty is a grown woman and is perfectly capable of handling her ‘urgent matter’ on her own.” A glimmer of green slammed the gilt door, making the page flinch.

“I did warn you.” The page collected the discarded parchment from where Loki had thrown it and returned to his duties.

The next day

When Kari and the other ladies arrived in the morning, Claire and Ragna were still fast asleep.

“My lady!” Kari’s harsh whisper brought Claire out of her slumber, her mumbled “Whua?” lost in the harried murmurs of her ladies. Surrounded by a gaggle of women and their owl-eyed expressions, Claire could only think of one question.

“Whattimeisit?”

“It’s past breakfast, my lady. I’ve brought you a tray since...well, since none of us had seen Ragna.”

“Thank you.”

“Is...is everything alright?” Kari asked, eyes darting to Ragna’s sleeping form.

“Everything is fine. Ragna was exhausted and I offered her a place to sleep, that’s all,” Claire rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she sat up. “She’s not in trouble, is she?”

“Her absence has been noted,” Holga said solemnly. “But if she has been with you, all is forgiven.”

“Great! Hey, since we’re all here- I want to talk all of you. Let’s go in the other room so Ragna can sleep.”

“Is something wrong?” Koza asked as Claire padded into the sitting room.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Fingers raked through Claire’s hair as she sat cross-legged on the lounge. “I know we had a good time goofing off last night and telling jokes about Fandral and all that. But I want to make sure that you’re all safe.”

“Of course we are safe,” Kari scoffed. “This is Asgard, not Muspelheim.”

“All the same,” Claire insisted. “It’s important to me that no one is taking advantage of you, especially Fandral or anyone like him.”

“Fandral is a rake, everyone knows this,” Holga said. “But he is not a predator.”

“But like it or not, he does rate higher on the social ladder than each of you,” Claire argued. “And that means the playing field is uneven. So, just to be sure, he’s never pressured you into doing something you didn’t want to do?” The three women shook their heads. “He never made you feel like you couldn’t say no, or that something bad might happen to you if you did?”

“Men always make passes at pretty women; it has been that way since the dawn of time, Your Majesty,” Holga looked annoyed by Claire’s questions as she crossed her arms over her chest. “If they offer and we are not interested, that is the end of it. We are free to lie or not lie with whom we choose. Besides, there are always the pleasure houses!”

“Pleasure houses?” Claire balked. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised; brothels exist all over Earth too.”

“The pleasure houses of Asgard are quite popular, as they house people from across the realms.”

“Oh?” Claire glanced up skeptically. “People travel to Asgard to work in the pleasure houses?” She shouldn’t judge; people did the same thing on Earth. It just seemed at odds with the purity culture Asgard seemed to cultivate.

“I suppose some might,” Holga replied. “But more likely they were brought here as trophies of war and their masters sold them off.”

“WHAT?!”

“It is perfectly legal.” Holga’s defensive shrug made Claire’s blood boil. How could she be so blasé?

“It’s disgusting,” Claire spat. “And you should be upset about it.”

“What is the point in my being upset, Your Majesty? Who would care for the opinion of one such as myself?”

“I care, and so should you,” Claire sank onto the lounge with an angry huff. “What do you know about them?”

“Not much, beyond the fact that being sold to one is a fate worse than death.”

“I can imagine. So you’re telling me that men who go into conflict have the right to bring back whatever or whoever they want?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And they have the right to do whatever they want with their...stolen property?” Claire asked. “I’m only asking for clarification. I in no way think of people as property.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. But every action must be documented,” Kari explained. “If a man chooses for example to bring home a woman-” a collective cringe colored the women’s faces. “He is entitled to keep her or sell her, but whichever he chooses must be documented so that proper taxes can be collected.”

“So if he keeps her, he pays the taxes, but if he sells her-”

“Whoever purchases her pays, Your Majesty.”

“And there’s no restrictions on this?” Claire asked.

“None. A man is entitled to claim what he wants after battle.” Koza said quietly.

“It is how Ragna came to be here.” Kari muttered. Holga gave her a shove, clicking her tongue in anger.

“It is not our place-”

“It’s okay, I already know,” Claire held up her hand to stop the women from fighting. “Ragna told me herself. What I would like to know, if you’re comfortable telling me, is how each of you came to work in the palace.”

~~~~

Later in the afternoon, with fury still boiling in her veins, Claire took to the training field. Thankfully, Sif was there and the two were able to train together.

“Can I ask you a question?” Claire asked as they took a water break. The afternoon sun was unrelenting, scorching everything in its path, and Claire’s lungs felt like she’d swallowed fire. The soreness in her hands and ache in her bones felt good after such a long period of inactivity.

“Of course. Does something trouble you?”

“Yes, actually. What do you know about this trophy business?” Sif lowered her tankard, her brows high with surprise.

“Who told you about this?” she asked. “It is ugly business, and not something anyone with honor would take part in.”

“It turns out that several of my staff are victims of it,” Claire said darkly. “I want to help them, but I don’t know how.”

“I’m sorry to say that you likely cannot,” Sif replied. “The staff in the palace belongs to the crown.”

“To Odin.”

“Yes,” Sif nodded. “Take heart, Your Majesty. The crown does not actively abuse its staff; they are vital in order for it to survive.”

“I don’t care how nice they are- they could just as easily hire staff, instead of stealing them,” Claire hissed. “I’m sure the soldiers who brought them to Asgard got nice bonuses?”

“They were paid handsomely, if that is what you mean.”

“And where would I find records of this?” Sif’s brows furrowed, her jaw tightened as she shook her head.

“Your Majesty-”

“Don’t tell me not to look into this Sif. I need to know. Where?” Sif sighed quietly as she relented.

“Property records are kept in the library,” she said softly. “Just...I am very old, Claire. This practice has been going on since well before my birth. It is very upsetting.”

“Yes, it is,” Claire stilled, frowning as a familiar figure came into view across the field. “Son of a bitch.” Sif followed her gaze, a matching frown crossing her features as she laid eyes on Loki talking with Hogun.

“What irks you today, Your Majesty? New grievance or old?” Sif asked playfully, eyeing Claire warily as she reached for the knife on her belt.

“Both.” Claire said, letting the knife fly. It zipped through the air, pearl handle glistening as it spun end over end. A satisfying thwunk echoed across the field as the blade jabbed the wooden boards mere inches from Loki’s face. Both Hogun and Loki flinched back, startled by the sudden intrusion. The pearl handle caught Loki’s attention right away, and he reached for the knife with an angry sneer.

“Are you mad?!” Loki hissed as he wrenched the knife free. “You could have struck me.”

“Or me.” Hogun added.

“If I wanted to, I would have,” Claire said breezily as she joined the two. Sif lingered behind, warning Hogun not to get involved with a shake of her head. “I’d like my knife back.”

“Why, so you can actually strike me with it this time?” Loki scowled.

“You’re such a baby.”

“Am I meant to be grateful?”

“It would be nice if you simply remembered I exist. Not being ignored all the time would be great.”

“I’m terribly sorry you feel slighted. Shall I fall to my knees in penitence?”

“You could at least be grateful. I am the only reason you're here and not six stories under,” Claire glanced at the ground, and Loki glared at her angrily. “Why didn’t you answer the note I sent you?”

“Which one?” Loki asked flatly. “They were all so very annoying, you will need to be more specific.”

“Wow,” Claire whistled. “You are such an asshole, of like...epic proportions. Monuments should be erected to your dickishness.”

“If they were, would you be happy?”

“You think I’m happy?” Claire scoffed. “Loki, in what universe could I possibly be happy?”

“Is it truly so terrible here?” Loki asked.

“Um, obviously?” Claire rose to the bait. “I have maybe a handful of friends here, everyone I know is millions of miles away, and the one person I should be able to rely on for companionship ignores me. That’s you, by the way, in case you didn’t know.”

“I gathered that. I apologize for not coddling you; it was my understanding you were an adult. Perhaps I should furnish you with some children’s toys since you wish to act like one.”

“I’m a child because I have the audacity to hold you accountable?! To promises you made?!” Claire shrieked. “I’m not asking for much, you know. Just that you put in some kind of effort to make this work!”

“We are still married, are we not? Therefore it works,” Loki flipped the knife, holding it out to her with a guarded expression. “I’d thought you would be smarter not to attempt assassination around witnesses.”

“I was making a point, jackass.” Loki glanced sideways to the new hole in the wooden boards.

“I’d say you succeeded.” He pulled the knife back when she reached for it, delighting in the fury in her gaze when she looked up at him.

“Why are you ignoring me?” she asked. “I really need your help.”

“With what? Planning your next party?” Loki asked scathingly. “Astrid told me you were upset and I came to...apologize,” he sneered. “You didn’t seem upset at all.”

“I’m very good at ignoring my feelings; something we have in common,” Claire replied. “But I sent you another note later. I really do need-”

“I’m afraid I’m unavailable,” Loki replied. “Speak with Astrid, perhaps we can schedule something in the next...six to eight weeks?” he suggested as Fandral joined their little group. Sif wisely kept to the fringes of their bubble, scaring away anyone who strayed too close.

“You’re joking.” Loki’s arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders squaring as he closed himself off.

“We could book something further down the line, perhaps in a decade? Why not two?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Claire shoved at him, fury welling in her chest when he barely moved. “Something stinks here, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it whether you help me or not.”

“It’s not me,” Hogun offered from Loki’s side. “Maybe Fandral fell into a latrine again.”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME!” Fandral screeched. Hogun shook his head at Claire as Fandral launched his body at Hogun’s middle. The two rolled in the dirt, trading blows like overstimulated children. Claire and Loki both took exaggerated steps aside to escape the brawl as Sif waded in to break the two apart.

“I went to see it, you know.” Claire muttered as Fandral screamed about Hogun ‘embarrassing him’.

“My cell?”

“No, the bifrost. Yes, your cell.” Claire rolled her eyes, watching Sif haul Fandral up by his collar.

“Why?” Claire shrugged. A thin trickle of blood trailed down Hogun’s face as he got to his feet.

“I thought maybe it would help me understand you better,” she replied. “Whatever you think of me, that's all I've ever wanted.”

“I do not want your pity.” Loki sneered.

“You don't have it.” Loki grunted angrily and walked away, scowling when Claire followed after him with a shout.

“Leave me be, you miserable woman!”

“No! Why are you acting like this? I can't make sense of it- you promised to help me do this shit and then you just dropped me- you lied to get me to stay!”

“No, you lied!” Loki shouted. “How many times must I explain it? I am the god of lies; I sense lies, I don't tell them.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You are a talented liar, madam. I almost respect you for it,” Loki let a sarcastic laugh escape him. “You managed to fool me longer than anyone else ever has. Perhaps your government will give you a medal. You certainly deserve it after all your heroic efforts.” He threw the knife at her feet, a cloud of dirt licking at her shoes. He stalked off, leaving Claire behind speechless and furious.

~~~~

With her husband exhausted, Claire made her way to see the queen bee.

Frigga greeted her happily, offering her tea and a seat at her table. As Claire sat, Frigga set aside her needlework.

“What brings you to see me today, my dear?” she asked kindly. “Is my son still being a buffoon?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Claire huffed. “I wanted to ask you some questions.”

“Of course, dear, what about?”

“I recently learned that Asgardian soldiers are allowed to claim trophies after battle, and that several of my staff were brought to Asgard against their will.”

“Sadly, it is still a widespread practice,” Frigga acknowledged with a sigh. “I have tried to persuade Odin to outlaw it, but he insists it is necessary.”

“Why does he think that?”

“He is of the mind that Asgard would cease to function without the practice,” Frigga shrugged. “I’ve told him that there are plenty who would jump at the chance to serve, but he is adamant this is the best way.”

“He doesn’t think Asgard can function without stealing slaves?” Claire scoffed. “If that is true, then Asgard shouldn’t exist.”

“Don’t say that, dear girl-”

“I will, because it’s true,” Claire said firmly. “If a kingdom cannot function without slave labor, then that kingdom should not exist.”

“None of us can get by without assistance,” Frigga said. “Can you honestly say you can function without your ladies to clean your chambers, to help you bathe and dress?”

“Yes, of course I can, because I’m an adult and I was taught how to care for myself and my home,” Claire replied heatedly. “Becoming a princess doesn’t change that.”

“Claire-”

“I need to leave. Excuse me.” Claire beat a hasty retreat from Frigga’s chambers with a sour taste in her mouth. What had she been thinking? Sif had said all the staff belonged to the crown; of course Frigga would be in support of it. Even if she found the practice distasteful, she still benefited from it. She wouldn’t be any help.

It was time to regroup and plan her next steps.

~~~~

Frigga found Loki in his chambers, fresh from the bath and frowning at the heap of papers on his desk.

“Mother,” he shot to his feet when she stepped inside the study. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be here myself, but I have concerns I wished to discuss with you.”

“If it’s about what just happened on the training field-”

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Loki said quickly, smiling nervously when Frigga gave him The Look™. “What concerns do you have?” he gestured for her to have a seat, waiting until she’d sat down before he took up his spot behind the desk.

“I fear that Claire is going to do something drastic,” she began. “She just came to see me and was most upset about the practice of war trophies.”

“Any sane person would be; it’s barbaric,” Loki shrugged. “What of it?”

“The girl is isolated, in a foreign place with very little support in what she no doubt feels is a hostile environment,” Frigga scalded her son with a heated look. “I do not know Claire as well as I know you, but you are similar enough that I’m beginning to worry that she will attempt to take on the problem by herself.”

“That is a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Loki scoffed. “What could she possibly do if she is, as you say, isolated?”

“I would prefer not to find out. Loki…” Frigga sighed heavily. “I simply do not understand why you are so determined to treat the poor girl so heinously.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you!” Frigga said tersely. “Whether it be childish impudence or stubbornness, I care not. I am beyond weary of this. The entire palace speaks of little else except how you and your wife are all but at each other’s throats; even the most respectable ladies are full of gossip! You must do something!”

“Why should I care what empty-headed dolts have to say? Let them talk themselves to death; we should all be the better for it.”

“I thought you wanted to improve the public’s opinion of you. Is this the way you think to do it?” Frigga challenged, clucking her tongue in disappointment. “Like it or not, Claire is your wife. She will be your partner for the next several thousand years!”

“Then you will forgive me if I don’t hasten to make amends,” Loki rolled his eyes. “And why should I be the one to do so when she is the entire reason for it?”

“What in Bor’s name could that girl have done that is so odious-”

“She is nothing but a spy! She has no genuine affection for me at all; everything she has done since arriving in Asgard is a falsehood.”

“If she did, your loutish behavior has certainly squashed it by now!” Frigga chided him harshly. “I have eyes, Loki, as done everyone in the palace. No one would ever assume that girl was faking anything. If she didn’t like you, Claire would not suffer you at all. For Bor’s sake, Loki, you are far too intelligent to genuinely believe she was lying to you,” she chuckled breathlessly. “How could she possibly hope to fool you?”

“Well…” Loki floundered in the face of his mother’s laughter, a surge of embarrassment drawing his shoulders up to his ears. “What of this then? Anyone would make the same assumption!” he produced Claire’s folder from his pocket dimension, handing it over for Frigga to read. Frigga’s eyes darted to his as she turned a page, her eyebrows growing higher and higher as she read the remarks Claire had written.

“The girl is astute, I will credit her that,” she remarked. “I’ve also long held the suspicion that you did not act alone on Midgard.”

“Mother!”

“I know, I am old, but I am your mother and I know you better than you think!” Frigga argued. “The son I raised would never do what you have done. To the Midgardians you are still a threat; of course the girl would gather what little information she could! Did you bring this to her? Give her a chance to defend herself?”

“So she could lie even more?” Frigga got up from her seat and crossed to his side of the desk.

“Did she lie, or is it easier for you to believe she did?” Her arm snaked around his shoulders as she leaned down to hug him. “I know how your mind works, my darling. You don’t believe anyone could truly care for you, but they do. And if you truly think that girl lied to you, you are a bigger fool than you believe your brother to be.” She pressed a kiss to his temple, set the folder on his desk, and breezed out of the room.

Loki sat motionless, dazed as he stared down at the folder in front of him. Was he a fool? Had he let his insecurities ruin something before it truly began?

He’d never sensed a lie from Claire, not once. He could admit that. He’d been panicked when he first found the folder; he could admit that too. Loki cringed as he recalled how he’d behaved.

Norns help him. He owed Claire so many apologies.

But would she accept them?

~~~~

Across the palace, Claire was ready to make a move. She’d managed to procure the chambers next door to hers, claiming she ‘needed space’. She was waiting for Ragna to arrive with dinner, pacing back and forth in the sitting room.

Thankfully her wait was short, as Ragna arrived only moments later.

“Hi Ragna!”

“Good evening...Claire,” Ragna gave her a small smile, as if they were sharing a secret. “How was your day today?”

“Oh, can’t complain. Ruffled some feathers, threw a knife at my husband-” Ragna’s grip on the cloche covering Claire’s plate faltered, and it clattered to the floor noisily. “All in all, it’s been a good day. I have exciting news.”

“Oh?” Ragna asked as she plucked the cloche from where it landed. “More exciting that threatening the prince royal?”

“What’s the big deal?” Claire scoffed, shrugging as she made her way to the table. “If I wanted to hit him, I would have.”

“The prince is well, then?”

“The prince has no new holes in his annoyingly handsome face,” Claire sighed. “Would you like to hear the news?”

“I’m uncertain my heart can handle more news,” Ragna replied flatly as she dropped into the seat opposite Claire. “But I’d like to hear it anyway.”

“I put in a request for the apartment next door. It now belongs to me, and I learned it has a secret door that leads right into this room!”

“How lovely,” Ragna smiled. “Why did you feel the need for more space? Are you planning to relocate so the prince cannot find you?” she chortled at her little joke.

“Actually, no,” Claire shook her head. “The rooms are under my name, but I got them for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes. You can move in whenever you like.”

“I...You…” Ragna slouched back in her seat, disbelief written clearly upon her face. “You obtained...housing...for me.”

“Yep,” Claire chirped. “I also took the liberty of sourcing a number of guards for your door, of which you will have final choice. We can meet them first thing in the morning.”

“Your Majesty, I-” Ragna swallowed thickly. “I cannot live in rooms such as these.”

“Of course you can. I’m updating your job description. From now on, you go where I go, at all times. Which means I need you close by, day or night. No more having Gunnar find a page to find a messenger to blah, blah, blah. I want you-” Claire pointed at the secret door in the wall. “Twenty feet away.”

“But…”

“Would you like to hear the second piece of good news?”

“Is it better than the first piece?”

“I am equally excited about both.” Claire grinned.

“Somehow that concerns me,” Ragna muttered. “What is it?”

“I had a meeting today with the palace accountant. He’s helping me set up accounts for each member of Loki’s staff and mine, so that you can all be paid wages for your work.”

“You’re going to pay us?!” Ragna asked incredulously.

“It’s about time; don’t you think?” Claire smiled. “It’s going to take some time; I wasn’t sure what counts as a living wage here so the accountant is supposed to draw up estimates for me.”

“Can you do that?”

“No one said I couldn’t,” Claire shrugged as she polished off her wine. “I took charge of the household accounts when Loki and I married, so I figured it was time to put them to good use. You deserve to be paid for your labor.”

“When-” Ragna cut herself off, trying to contain the eagerness on her face. “When can I move my things?”

“Let’s go get them right now,” Claire offered. “You can crash with me again tonight if you don’t want to be alone.”

“I’d like that,” Ragna beamed. “But...my master will be waiting for me.”

“We could always wait until he’s distracted and get your things when he’s not there.”

“We would have far better chances of succeeding if we go during the day- he is always busy with meetings.”

“Great, we’ll go tomorrow after you pick out your guard,” Claire smiled. “Which leads me to phase two of my plan: exposing your ‘master’ for the cunt muffin he is.”

#covenant #loki fic #loki x ofc #meowmeow writes

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meownotgood · 4 months ago

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AHHH I AM SO EXCITED AND FOR THE ASKGAME IF I CAN ASK: 1, 12 and 14!

have a nice day! ✨

yay thanks for playing! :D and don't worry, I assumed you were talking about aki hehe

1) why do you like or dislike this character?

there's so many reasons why I like aki... when I first saw him in the manga I figured he'd be my fave because of his design lol. the hair up, the suit, the earrings... I'm like yes. this man is so my type. but I love his personality so much, how he cares for others so deeply. and his inevitable conclusion in the story is just so good even though it makes me hurt so much :,) he is such a beautifully written character and his good heart really speaks to me......

12) what's a headcanon you have for this character?

always headcanon aki to have scars. like on his arms from giving skin to the fox devil, and just everywhere on his body from fighting devils...

14) assign a fashion aesthetic to this character

I don't know the name of this aesthetic but mentally. I'm putting him in these big comfy cutie sweaters. I think he would like

#the first pic is so aki core with the ciggy #thank you for asking me :D #ask mags

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magnifiico · 11 months ago

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“ I have a wish but i am afraid to speak it.”

@luposcainus || well, buddy, have i got news for you !! (๑˘︶˘๑)

“Ah, but see: that's the beauty of it,” Magnifico is quick to reassure him, drinking in the young man's trepidation and combatting it with his own exuberance. “Truly, you don't have to utter a word; all you need to do is feel that passion and desire, hold on to it, and I do the rest. Simple, isn't it?” He cocks his head as he rounds the other, a hand amicably hovering behind the small of his back—albeit briefly before returning to his side.

“That being said, since you are a guest here, our traditions do not need to become your own,” he explains. “Of course, I will not deny you the right to give me your wish, should you want that, but that is entirely your choice.”

#luposcainus #˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 《 answered 》#hey hey! :D thanks for the ask!#and for the follow uwu it's great to have you on the dash!#mags gaslighting gatekeeping girlbossing his way through life it's nbd 8| dw about it #caspian is valid tbh me too tho #bih i don't wanna talk about my WISHES willy-nilly #it's okay -- mags already has that workaround 8D

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shandzii · 1 year ago

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Hello I just saw your recent OC animatic and found out you study animation AND are Filipino at the same time

Tagal ko na gustong aralin yung pag animate kaso di align course ko ngayon sa part na yun. Tatagalog ko nalang kung sakaling sagutin mo tong ask pero anong university/college ang naconsider mo sa pagtake on ng animation course? (Di ko tinatanong yung campus location for your privacy na rin syempre) Tas as in BS/BA in Animation ba siya? Ikaw lang ata kilala kong Filo na nag aanimate at nagsustudy ng animation course wala kasing masyadong interesado sa arts dito samin kaya pahirapan ako mag ask ng advice pasensya na po kung nakakaintrude masyado 😭😭

Gusto ko sana i off anon kaso aaaaa nahihiya pi aq pasensya na pi pero no pressure rin sa pagsagot ganda ng mga gawa mo, Shands!! Thank you kung sakali :D

I'm in computer studies taking a BS EMC course :0 it's a mix of 2d/3d animation and game design (there's still lots of coding end me asdfghjkl) It was added pretty recently so I know your struggle hhhh ;v; I shifted to it earlier this year

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char-lie-spirals · 2 years ago

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ooh, does eye avatar graham means magnus institute employee graham? 👀

It does!!

In one of the Eye AUs, at least! In that AU he runs into Amy a few weeks after she gave her (slightly different from the original) statement and decides to go get his version of the events down on paper. And well, since at that point of his life the Eye is kind of backseat-gaming his life, it gets him to apply for a job there! And how could Elias not offer this almost-avatar-of-the-Eye reject him!

He gets taken into Research, and at some point meets Jon, Tim, and Sasha. Then, when Jon becomes the new Archivist, he doesn't exactly request Graham as one of his assistants, but after having to call him down for Multiple follow-ups at the very start, Elias suggests that things would be easier if Graham just transferred to the Archives long-term! So he becomes an Archival Assistant, and he seems to Know his way around the Archives pretty well!

Then uh. The podcast-typical horrors happen.

#The Multiple follow-ups are about mag 003; mag 011; and his own statement btw #Thank you SO MUCH for asking I love talking about him and the AUs I made up :D #Eye Avatar Graham AU #<- Making this a tag because tbh this is the 2nd AU I'm most likely to write at some point #The 1st one being the one I'm writing now #graham folger #asks.char

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sigyn-foxyposts · 3 months ago

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"The Afton family" Part 1/2 Fnaf Amaranth AU!

Note: Yes, this AU is inspired by Mobox87's and many others old FNAF lore that was created back in 2015-2016 but is remade to fit into what we have today. I'm simply doing this for the sake of fun and keeping a part of the nostalgia alive. All designs are inspired by how I viewed them personally growing up, making them my original designs. Please tag me if you ever make fanart, thank you :D

A huge thanks to @vamnp for coming up with the name of this AU!

The Parents:

Name: Scott Ralph Afton.

Nickname: Scotty

Nationality: British (Moved to America)

Scott is clumsy and laid back. He is also a bit skittish because his dad used to scare him, intentionally as a child.

Has always struggled mentally, thanks to his childhood being quite rough.

He was bullied in school for being the shy and antisocial kid, often hiding in the bathroom stalls to get away.

He never had a good relationships with his parents, not even with Vincent no matter what he originally thought.

Has undiagnosed ADHD.

His special interest is machinery!

Likes to keep things organized and tidy.

Hates when someone is disobedient.

Loves teasing and making dad jokes!

Like his second oldest son, he has a fondness for the animatronic Foxy!

Suffers from insomnia and hallucinates.

He has a high pain tolerance and often gets injured, hence the many bandages he is wearing. His wife puts them on.

Feels horrible for not being able to stop Vincent from killing his children & being the cause of so many deaths.

Scott is the phone guy and tape guy (aka Henry but now it's Scott!)

Scott didn't actually die after the animatronics attacked and stuffed him into a suit, he was just severely injured.

Despite being in pain, he managed to stay alive until someone found him. After that incident he decided to retire.

He commits suicide, suffocating during the fnaf 6 fire together with Michael.

Scott is a hard working man that love's his family more than anything, but struggles to keep the stability going. Not only does he specialize with dangerous animatronics at work along side his brother Vincent, who has always been questionable in nature. He has always struggled mentally thanks to his upbringing.

The lack of sleep he is getting from his insomnia and night shifts causes him to get injured on the job. Which his wife is very unhappy about, they could be bickering and next thing they know they're argumening over family matters. Though Scott tries to be the one who puts an end to it and be a better husband and father to his children, he has to admit he is far from perfect. He retired from his own business Fazbear entertainment after the tragedies and focused on his remaining family, returning briefly during fnaf 6 to aid Michael and decided he would commit suicide with them.

Name: Margaret Fritz.

Nickname: Mag, Magpie.

Nationality: Norwegian.

Margaret met Scott through high school and originally felt bad for him, letting him rant to her about his inventions.

This somehow sparked feelings between the two and they remained high school sweethearts up until their marriage.

Margaret went to medical school and worked as a nurse for a few years, earning a good living for them.

She did end up quitting early and became a stay at home mom when she first got pregnant with twins.

Later in life she would try getting back into the work field but retires due to mental health issues.

Has a slight drinking problem and hates how addicted she is to it.

She suffers from compassion fatigue.

Developed depression and erratic behavior after the disappearances.

Feels guilty for Charlie's death because she was drinking that night and asked Scott to get him. (He was working late)

After Scott died in the fire, she went back to her drinking habits and died from liver failure. (Basically suicide)

Margaret is a stay at home mother who often finds herself stressed over not just her kids, but also her husband. Thanks to his recklessness at work and his horrible sleep schedules, along with his mental health. Margaret and Scott tend to argue a lot about his well being and over how they should manage things in their household, which often ends up going nowhere. This caused her to pick up a small drinking habit that she tries her best to hide from everyone, especially her children. Margaret originally came from Norway but moved to America with her family when she started high school. There she not only met Scott but got a degree in nursing and after a few years of dating, fell pregnant. This caused her to have to stay home permanently and at first while it was difficult, she knew she was doing it for a good cause. Their growing family. After the missing children's incident she went completely off the rails and had to be sent away to the mental hospital by Scott. She really struggled, especially with the guilt of not being able to protect her children that she had spent so much of her life taking care of. Eventually though she would be able to return back to Scott and their remaining children, raising them.

Older siblings:

Name: Coppelia Afton.

Nickname: Lia

Age: 11 (in 1984)

Coppelia is the twin sister of Charlie!

Has ADHD.

Struggles sleeping like Scott.

Her special interest is also machinery!

She's often found outside tinkering in the garage with something.

She also loves reading books, specially the book that she was named after.

Can be quite hyperactive and playful, often leading her to be a bit brutal.

Love's to have playful banters with Scott or Charlie to see their reactions.

When she was younger she used to draw disturbing drawings, she grew out of it though! Scott affectionately calls her "his creepy daughter"

She loves eating bacon and eggs or pancakes, calling it her british breakfast. (Because she thinks it's funny)

After Margaret was sent away Mrs Andrews, their neighbor helped Scott take care of Coppelia and her brother.

This caused her to became a mother figure to her and she calls her mom!

She doesn't like any of the animatronics and once she got so scared as a child that she threw up and cried.

Coppelia is her families only daughter and tue older twin, taking most characteristics after her father. She is very hyperactive and playful, often tinkering with machinery like her father when he was younger. She can't be still for long, yet somehow she never runs out of energy either. She loves playing around with her siblings which often leads her to be a bit competitive and rough. She always feels a bit guilty because she accidentally hurts them or make them cry! The reason she prefers playing with her siblings still, is because she gets bullied at school too. Unlike her father though, she puts up a fight which gets her in trouble. Surprisingly Coppelia never noticed the issues her family had before her siblings went missing and her parents were even more unstable than what was normal to her. As if she didn't already struggle sleeping it got even worse for her, grieving heavily at the fact she might not even see her twin brother or younger brother again. She didn't know what to do and was afraid of when her father had to get back to work, but Margaret wasn't there anymore. Luckily their friendly neighbor Mrs Andrews would offer to watch over her and her baby brother, offering her support to the girl and comforting her. She knew what it was like loosing someone.

Name: Charlie Afton.

Nickname: Charles.

Age: 11 (When he died)

Charlie is the twin brother of Coppelia!

Struggles with anxiety.

His favorite animatronic is puppet.

He really likes collecting porcelain dolls.

Enjoys listening to the music box because it was a lullaby his parents used to comfort him with as a baby.

Charlie is actually left handed but forces himself to use his right to blend in!

The lefty animatronic was based on a stuffed teddy bear he owned.

Later Scott recreated Lefty as a animatronic to capture Charlie.

Like Scott he is also clumsy and skittish.

He is very pale and easily gets bruised.

To avoid people assuming bad things about his home life, he wears make-up, long sleeves and pants.

He originally wore make-up to just hide his bruises but started to enjoy it!

His parents find this adorable and often his mother helps him experiment around with her make-up stash!

Even though he keeps calm under stressful situations, when conflicts arises his anxiety skyrockets.

Especially when his and Coppelia's bullies search for them during school.

He knows Margaret has a drinking problem but hasn't said that he knows.

He hates when his parents argue because of how his brother accidently got in the way and was injured in the past. Luckily it never happened again.

His favorite cousin is Chris, someone he heavily sympathizes with!

Vincent stabbed Charlie multiple times in the lungs out of drunken rage, leaving him outside to bleed out in the rain.

Charlie is the oldest son and younger twin, taking a lot after both his parents. He is quite gloomy, clumsy and introverted but a passionate caretaker like his mother. Like his sister they're not exactly popular at school and the kids often picked on them, but Coppelia was there to protect him! Sometimes he wishes he would be able to do the same, to show that he was capable.. But all he could do was run and get the teacher. He makes up for this when he is able to protect his brother and the missing children after he is killed by Vincent outside of the pizzeria. The reason he died was because he was waiting for Scott to finish working after Maggie forgot to pick him up. Then the same children who bullied him and his sister threw him outside and locked the door. At first he blamed both his parents for his death, but stopped holding a grudge against them when he realized Scott and Michael tried to free them behind the scenes.

Younger siblings:

Name: Bartholomew Fritz Afton.

Nickname: Bart, Fritz

Age: 7 (When he died)

Has ADHD.

His favorite animal is the fox, hence why he loves and adores foxy.

He has an obsession with pirates and pretends to be one all the time!

His favorite holiday is Halloween.

He likes to tease and be the annoying younger brother, often copying Coppelia's behavior.

Whenever he's bored he ask his parents or older siblings to read to him.

His favorite books are pirate books and books about norwegian folklore: because they have scary sea creatures.

Sings those kids nursery rhymes 24/7.

Hates loud shouting and glass breaking after he accidentally stood between his parents when they were arguing.

His favorite cousin is Brenda because she likes playing pirates with him!

Vincent lured Bart to parts and service, breaking his kneecaps, cutting of his hand and slicing his throat. It was so deep he pretty much decapitated him.

Bartholomew also known as Bart for short, is the second oldest son. He is hyperactive and outgoing to the fullest, insisting he is the leader of any group he comes across, siblings or friends. You'll often see him wearing pirate gears and singing songs, dragging around his younger brother who happily follows. He also never stops talking about what interests him and struggles knowing when to stop. He loves pirates, sea creatures and foxy! Bart also always unintentionally gets himself into trouble, even if it isn't his fault and while he loves his father the most, he hates being punished by him and go to the thinking corner. After he was killed by his own uncle Vincent, like the other missing children he can't trust adults and is very aggressive. Even to his own father Scott, when he figured out he possessed Foxy and tried to communicate with him.

Name: Sammy Afton.

Nickname: Sam.

Age: 4 (in 1984)

He is a very bubbly boy, who easily make people smile.

He is somewhere on the autism spectrum.

His favorite animatronic is balloon boy.

Balloon boy was inspired by Sam's younger appearance and made by Scott.

He has a huge sweetooth and will try to steal sweets when no one is watching!

Margaret jokinly and affectionately calls him a ''menace'' to her existence.

He loves being around other people, which is why he always follows his brother or mother around.

He has a few funny quirks, such as rocking back and forth when he is excited, walking on his toes or biting on things.

He also tends to be so quiet that Scott got scared by him multiple times becuse he was just standing there, smiling at him.

His favorite thing is arts and crafts and he actually helped decorate the pizzeria along with other children there.

He loves playing with balloons, but hates when they pop, then he will start crying.

He used to be close with Bart before he went missing, now he is very attached to his older sister Coppelia.

His favorite cousin is Elizabeth because she offered him ice cream once.

Sammy is the youngest son and the only surviving family member of the Afton family with his older sister after Michael and his parents. As a child he was a bubbly boy filled with laughter, often finding himself following others around rather than leading the way like his older brother Bart. He was very young when his brothers disappeared and when he got older he struggled remembering them. When Maggie was sent away to the mental hospital, Scott retired to take care of him and was finally able to improve on his parental skills. When Sammy became an adult he started working under Fazbear entertainment despite the history it held to his family with his sister.

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