#i like to think once he distances himself from his family he dresses a bit more casually

[cinnbar-bun]

The Heartless Giant Pt. 6

Pairing: Crocodile x GN! Royal! Reader

Rating: SFW

Summary: You made a big mistake.

Word Count: ~3.5k

AO3 Link: here

Taglist: @gingernut1314 @fanaticsnail @leafyturtle @pookiesnatcher @lolom @chaoticqueen33

The door creaks open and shut again- the third time this week. It’s dark outside, past midnight one could assume. The same time every night the door has made that loud, piercing noise. 

Just what could be so important as to do this after midnight? 

His eyebrows raised as he puts aside the book he was reading. He can’t really concentrate on what the book said, maybe it was about poetry or something, he never was one to care about the theatrics of writing. That was something only you could care about. 

What he did care about, however, was the fact that you were, for some reason, leaving the room again and again at night. 

He assumed it to be coincidence at first, that perhaps he just happened to not realize you would walk around or attend to something late at night. Once or twice was a simple thing to brush off. But almost every other day? For a consistent amount of months? This was getting ridiculous, and the time spent between you leaving your room and returning were getting longer. You never stated a word about whatever you did at night, and he didn’t deem it necessary to discuss. You weren’t a kid and the distance created from that night so long ago didn’t heal with time. 

It was not his business, he assured himself. 

It was not something he needed to be worried about or think about. 

Even when you insisted you just didn’t sleep well the morning after, the giddy smile on your face said that you didn’t care. Even when you were distracted during meals, looking far off into the distance, as if your mind was elsewhere. Even when he noticed you frozen in the hallways, staring at the portraits of the royal family through the ages, the refined appearance of your ancestors reflecting back to him. 

He didn’t need to think about it. 

But, like most events in his life, he stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have. Maybe it was just his rotten luck, a curse of his existence. 

Or, maybe, it happened to be a blessing in disguise. 

Some of the king’s advisors were in a meeting, waiting for the king to arrive as they discussed their matters. He had offered, in a dismissive way, he would inform the advisors that his father would be a bit late due to some other work that had to be taken care of. The door was just barely opened as the advisors were casually drinking and murmuring their opinions heatedly. 

“-and to think, this the next heir!” One of them, the eldest, dressed in red sighed. 

His eyes widened as he refrained from opening the door further and instead kept silent. 

“Our lord understands, but he is too kind to these children,” another one says. He can’t see who said that, but from his memories, the voice had to be that one advisor with the large monocle. “They’ll be eaten alive by the people and their hubris.” 

A burly laugh echoes in the room. “The king is getting older, he can’t keep denying the inevitable truth. The kingdom would fall apart with the others. Only (Y/n) can be suitable and accepting of the responsibilities.” 

“Far easier to reason with, as well. I fear we’d lose our lives with the elder three. But can the king be convinced when he clings to tradition?” 

He clenched his fists and teeth. 

So this is what these advisors thought of him and his brothers? So this is what they thought of the youngest? 

Of course he knew, hell, everyone knew. But that didn’t bother him before. He was guaranteed the throne, ever since his father had raised him. When he was a young boy, nervously trotting on his horse beside his father, who explained the fields they rode upon were his to one day reign over. From when he was made to redo scroll after scroll, his father citing the fact that as the future king, his speeches would one day unite the kingdom under one banner in time of need. When he was performing in the yearly jousting or fighting tourney for the festivals and lost, his father would proudly pat his shoulders and say that a leader should be strong and hold his head high, even in defeat. 

He had been humiliated and made to grovel time after time- all for the sake of being king. And they would conspire to take that away from him? They would take away the one thing he was guaranteed and promised? 

No. Unacceptable. 

This was his birthright. 

This is what he was raised to do. 

That weakling- what could they possibly know about ruling a country? Just because they read books did not mean anything. They had no combat training, no use besides being an annoying, walking encyclopedia. Being king was his. He would not accept any other role in life except for the title of King. 

He would never give this up, not to the second, not to the third, and especially not the fourth. 

He was the original, the first, the eldest- to have anyone else succeed beside him would be paramount to the highest insult possible. 

He could not contain himself as he angrily strode away, his nails digging so deep into his palm that they cut into his skin. Their insistence that his youngest sibling should rule instead of him was what killed him the most. 

Everyone was fooled with that innocent and studious act, weren’t they? They acted perfect, but there had to be something wrong. No one was always perfect and his sibling shouldn’t be any different. 

He would find anything- anything- to discredit and tarnish their reputation. If everyone wanted his wretched sibling to be ruler, then he would expose the truth and let their favored heir be shown for the incompetent child they were. 

He trembled as a few drops of blood spilt from his hands. Yes. 

Yes. 

Yes. 

This is all he had to do to secure his rightful place. 

Who was he, if he was not to be king? 

A shaky grin quivered onto his lips as he laughed quietly to himself. He would not be disrespected by the advisors like that again. If they dared to question his position as the heir to the throne, then he would remind them of their place. He’d even be a bit generous, as a good king would be, and let his youngest sibling be an advisor to him. Just so, for a moment, they could understand what it was like to be so close to the throne. 

He laughed louder as he found himself in his room. When did he get here? It didn’t matter. 

None of that matter. 

There was work to be done. 

Taking the large sword from its hiding place beside his bed, he gripped the hilt tighter in order to stop the tremors in his body. He saw his reflection on the perfectly polished steel and grinned. 

He was the king. He was the king. 

He was the king and no one else. He would not let himself be denied his position. 

And he knew just where to start. 

It is past midnight. 

But the door does not creak open. 

Not yet. 

Any minute. 

Any second now. 

You will flee. 

He doesn’t know where to. 

But he will find you. 

His fingers are twitching. His ears are pounding. The blood is pumping, rushing through his body. 

He hasn’t felt this alive in years. 

He has his body pressed against the wall, waiting, listening, even his breath unable to be heard. 

Finally, after what feels like eons of waiting, you shuffle out of your bed. The large bed in your room shifts under the changing weight and you go to your closet. You are grabbing something light from it. 

He doesn’t know what it is, but he hears the sound of fabric brushing against one another. 

Somewhere cold. Somewhere cold. 

Outside? 

Are you leaving the castle? 

No. That can’t be possible. The guards would have to know and be alerted. 

Your door creaks open, and he hears you on the tip of your toes, turning around to shut it with the least amount of noise. 

But he hears you. 

He waits a few moments while the sound of your footsteps pattering down the hallway lessens. 

Now he can make his exit. 

The hallway is completely dark, but he doesn’t need any light. Years of hunting with his father had given him the talent of being able to adjust his eyes quite well in the dark. Your faint silhouette at the turn in the corner is all he needs to follow you. 

He doesn’t make a noise, swiftly making his towards the corner as he peers past it. He catches the fabric of your pajamas trailing after you and continues, slinking against the wall so you cannot see him if you look back. 

Considering the fact you don’t even have a lamp with you means you memorized the route. You go to the same place every time. 

The ideas on where you are actually going narrow more and more as you two pass many halls and rooms. 

He doesn’t want to think about that one possibility. No. It can’t be. 

The door to the cells below appeared and his heart beats faster. This is it, this is all he needs. Damn the consequences and the fall out later. He’s got you now. 

You disappear down the flight of stairs and he chuckles to himself. 

You’re a fool. 

A big, big fool. 

Armed with his sword and dagger, he can easily handle anything tonight. Tonight he will stake his claim to the throne and prove he is the one to be crowned king. 

As he walks down the stairs, the guard doing his rounds appears from the second level and gasps. 

“My lord, what are you doing here?” The guard asks. He can’t be bothered to explain. 

“Stop talking. You will be coming with me,” he demands, yanking the guard by the collar of his undershirt. The guard yelps as he’s dragged down to the deepest levels of the prison. 

“What are you planning? Don’t you know who’s down here?!” The guard panics. “We’re not supposed to-” 

“Shut it!” He snaps. “I know who is down here. I’ve met him. Twice. And you will be witness to tonight’s events. If you run away, I will make sure to have your head alongside his!” 

The guard trembles and nods, never having seen the utter vitriol the eldest prince is spitting. 

He sighs and makes his way to the bottom, careful to stay quiet. 

He hears you talking. 

“-but I was thinking about what you said before…” you trail off. He wants to gag at how you pathetic you sound. 

“And? What were your thoughts?” The beast replies, and he hears the beast’s chuckle echo. He covers the mouth of the scared guard who was about to give his location away and continues to listen. 

“I prepared everything. I will be talking to my father soon. And once I tell him, I’m sure I’ll be able to convince him.” 

Chains rattle and clank together. 

“But what about the other things we discussed?” The beast asks, a hint of mirth in his cold voice. His blood runs cold. 

“I’m not discussing those things! I already said no, you’re in there and I’m here,” you weakly say, as if not convinced by your own argument. 

You little-

He wastes no time alerting you of his presence. He tosses the guard to the floor in front of you and Crocodile, making you scream and lean against the bars in fear. 

As if the beast was to protect you. 

He snarls as he extinguishes one of the lanterns, making the area around him darker and his figure more imposing. 

“What the hell are you doing down here?” He interrogates you. 

“B-brother?!” You yell, covering your mouth in horror at being found out. 

“Don’t ‘brother’ me. How dare you?!” He screams. 

“I…” for once, you don’t have a word to say back. 

You know you’re done for. You went too close to the sun, and now you were paying the price. 

“I knew you were out and about at night, but to see him of all people?” He venomously questions. 

“I-it’s not what you think,” you say, but he’s got far too much adrenaline and anger in his veins to listen. 

“Not what I think? What am I supposed to think? You’re leaning against the man who nearly killed all of us and father. What are we supposed to think? Hm?” 

You tremble and crumble to the floor, like a helpless animal. Your eyes are watering. 

He has never looked as monstrous as this before. 

“ANSWER ME!” He yells in a deafening boom. Crocodile doesn’t defend you. Doesn’t even look at you when you flick your eyes to him for help. The intensity of his eyes at your interaction with the beast makes him snarl. “You’ve been conspiring with him, haven’t you?” 

“N-no, we have not-” 

“What was that about father just now, hm? Does he know you’ve been fooling around with the enemy? That you’ve been seduced by his words?” 

You swallow and press yourself further against the bars. That’s all he needs to know. 

“... you were planning on ridding of me, weren’t you? Attempting to steal my birthright?” He quietly says. You stare with wide eyes at him as he takes a step forward. “But you would conveniently hide how you’ve been dabbling with this monster, wouldn’t you?” 

It is silent, minus your ragged breathing. 

“SAY SOMETHING, DAMN IT!” The eldest screams. The guard stands against the wall while you cover your mouth. 

“Please, don’t-” 

“Don’t what? Don’t what?! Hm?! Announce that you have committed the highest form of treason here?! That you were the one who was ready to philander with the monster here?! Did you think at all? Or were you simply caught up like an idiot by his lies?” 

“He hasn’t lied!” You yell back in tears. 

You’re… you… 

No. This is too much. You’re too far gone. Too lost in this giant beast who has made himself home in your heart. 

You can’t be trusted. 

“You defend him, too?” He asks rhetorically. “You defend the creature in the lowest prison? You defend the giant who almost slain father? You defend the beast who nearly ended this kingdom?

“If you so badly want to join him in hell, then I’ll take you there!” He unsheathes his sword and slashes it at you. You cry out and just barely manage to dodge his attack. 

“Please, don’t-” 

“I’ve had enough of you! I’ve tried to reason with you, tried to ignore you, but this has gone too far! You think you’re better than me? You think you can talk your way out of this? You’re a traitor! You’re a treacherous, little snake!” 

Crocodile’s eyes briefly flick up to see the grip the eldest has on his sword. A faint smirk forms on his lips while while he looks back down. 

Your brother swings his sword back, ready to finish you off. You gasp when you notice that his sword turns black and seems to glow a violent shade of purple around him. 

“I refuse! I refuse to be taken down by the likes of you! I refuse to have what is mine stolen by you! You! You! You! DIE!” He roars, swinging his sword one last time. 

CLANG!

You don’t even recognize what happened, only hearing the sound of metal and iron crack. Did you even move? 

Miraculously… you’re alive. 

You look at your hands, your body. Nothing. No scars. No tears. The dust clears around you as you focus on your brother. 

He’s breathing heavily, the menacing aura around him still glowing bright. He won’t stop. Not until you’re dead. 

“Breathe,” a deep voice orders you. You sigh in relief as you realize that Crocodile was holding you up despite your shaking legs. You feel his chest against your back and even though you know you shouldn’t, you feel more relaxed knowing he’s protecting you. 

Then your heart sinks. 

Wait.

Crocodile doesn’t wait, and instead, you feel a slight breeze against you. You look to where your feet are and notice the seastone cuffs and… sand?! 

Your eyes widen in horror and the dread sets back in. 

The guard screams and runs away, not bothering to stay for the eventual fallout. 

But your brother… the once weak and cowardly brother who taunted Crocodile… he stays. Stays in position, foaming at the mouth while he clenches his sword. 

He swings again, letting out a battle cry. Another loud crash happens as Crocodile stops the attack with his golden hook. 

“A good attempt at injuring me. One centimeter off and I would have been killed,” he praises your brother. “But, since you’ve saved me the hassle of waiting more years, I guess I should thank you properly.” 

“Shut it, you!” Your brother shouts, sounding like a demon possessed. Crocodile chuckles casually, despite his admittance that the attack would have been fatal. Your brother wastes no time in flailing his sword recklessly. Crocodile manages to avoid and dodge all but one, which slashes through his sand abilities. 

A large gash across his chest appears, coating his prison uniform red. But Crocodile doesn’t care. 

He laughs. 

It sends a chill down your spine as all Crocodile does is laugh and laugh. 

“Oh, you did good. Awakening your haki at this time? All to kill your fool of a sibling? I can’t say I don’t respect the dedication.” 

You’re on the ground, watching as these two men- no… no, they’re utter animals now, lash out. 

But even more than that, you find you’re not hurt by your near death experience, but by the way Crocodile addresses you now. 

“C-Crocodile?” You call his name. He doesn’t bother to face you, his eyes darting to the side to watch you like a predator. 

“What?” He spits. 

“What are you doing…” you ask. You know the answer. Why are you asking? 

He doesn’t respond, instead grabbing your brother by the face, nearly crushing his head in his massive palm. Your brother screams in agony as the moisture in him is slowly drained. His sword returns to its normal steel color as the aura around him dies out. 

“Stop that!” You cry out, but you can’t will your legs to move an inch. 

“Hmph,” Crocodile boredly grunts as he tosses your brother to the ground. You crawl over to him and find him barely holding onto life, gasping in pain while he weakly shakes. “And here I thought I could have a chance to stretch. No matter. I could find a million more like your brother.” 

“Why did you do this to him?!” You scream in anger and fear. Crocodile stretches and bends his body, especially his fingers. He makes a show of summoning a small sand tornado in his right hand. 

“Why? Because. He freed me so soon. I didn’t even have to wait for you to ascend to get you to free me. It’s my thanks to him for being the one to let me out. He still has a bit of time left… but I wouldn’t waste it, dear,” he sarcastically says the last word. 

You grab the sword and stand up to try and hit Crocodile with it. He stops the sword with his bare hand and clicks his tongue. “Your brother is dying. The guards will be here soon. Shouldn’t you be focusing on that instead of trying to kill me? Face it, you won’t stand a chance.” 

“You piece of shit! I… how could you?! I trusted you! I thought we-” you tearfully shout. 

Crocodile shakes his head. 

“That was your first mistake, your highness. Let me impart with you a piece of wisdom.” Crocodile tosses the sword to the other side of the cell and holds your wrists into a tight, vice-grip, carrying you inches off the ground as another show of his might. He leans down to your ear and chuckles. 

“You see… I never trusted anyone from the start…”

His words echo in your head as he drops you unceremoniously onto the ground. 

“Don’t bother trying to go after me, your highness. You and your men have no chance against me. But, I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you leave with just a bruise. You can lie and say you tried to stop me. I’ll admit, it was cute seeing you think we were close, so I can let you despair over that stupid decision later.” 

He laughed loudly as he made his way up the flights of stairs, leaving you alone as you sobbed while cradling your weakened brother. 

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #reader insert #one piece oneshots #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #crocodile #crocodile one piece #the heartless giant #heartless giant #storyteller au

[drewsbuzzcut]

Pictures With Santa

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: minor angst and mentions pregnancy (during their breakup before they had Sloane) also this is lightly edited

Christmas 2025

“Do you think he’s going to cry?” Mat questions, nervously rocking an almost 5 month old Nolan. You’re both in a crowded mall, waiting in line to take pictures with Santa. Nolan may be a baby, but you and Mat still want to experience all the firsts.

“He’s asleep, Barzy,” you attempt to soothe him, running a hand over his hoodie clad back.

“Yeah, but you know he’ll wake up the second he realizes we aren’t holding him,” Mat stresses and he truly sounds worried.

“My baby, it’s going to be just fine. If it makes you feel better, you can hold him and we’ll just have to be in the picture,” you cup his cheeks, pressing your body against his to calm him down.

For a moment he seems to settle, his head leaning down to rest against your own, but as you’re about to give him a kiss he gets worked up again.

“What if the camera shutter scares him and he starts crying?”

“Then his first Santa photo will be a funny one,” you tease, earning a scowl from your boyfriend.

“If it’s really bugging you so much, we can leave,” you suggest, knowing that he won’t agree which is why you said it in the first place.

“No way. He’s my little strong man. We’ll get through this,” he states, leaning down to nose at Nolan’s soft cheek.

“We?” You ask, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Yes.” You kiss his little pout. You swear he and Nolan are twins, they pout the same way.

“We’re up, baby,” you say, pushing him ahead.

“Hi, merry Christmas,” Santa greeted you and your boys.

“Hi! Merry Christmas. Is it okay if we just sit next to you, so my boyfriend can hold our son? He’s still napping,” you ask and explain your reasoning.

“It’s no problem.”

You and Mat sit at each side of Santa, sitting on the arms of his large chair. Nolan nestled tightly in Mat’s arms as he tries to adjust him so the camera can get a good view of him. You both smile and wait until the first shutter of the camera. However, after the camera clicks, Nolan immediately wakes up. He’s not crying or cranky, so Mat decides to have him pose for a picture with just himself and Santa.

It’s the cutest picture you’ve ever seen. Nolan is staring up at Santa with wide eyes and his little gummy smile. They both matched as Nolan was dressed in a Santa suit onesie. He wasn’t scared and you were so glad. You bought so many copies, for around the house and to give to your family members.

Christmas 2028

“Sorry I’m late,” Mat says out of breath as he finally meets you in line.

You’re waiting to have the boys take pictures with Santa and Mat was running late with Nolan. You’re officially adding this to the list of things you wish you could avoid. By no means did you want to pretend to be some happy family while you and Mat are split up. You try to focus on the Christmas music playing from the speakers, and the bustling crowd as they’re all full of joy.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, rocking Angel in your arms. He’s a bit frazzled by all the noise in the crowded mall.

“You look pretty,” he compliments you and for once his words aren’t hesitant.

“Mathew, please,” you warn, turning away from him. You’re not necessarily mad at him anymore, but you just want to keep the distance between the two of you. Things are already so messy, you don’t want to complicate things further. Not to mention, if he gets any closer to you, you know he’ll figure out that you’re pregnant and you cannot have that happening right now.

“What? I can’t compliment my wife. It’s not like I’m lying, you look beautiful. You always do, but you’re glowing and I just wanted to tell you,” he explains, wrapping an arm around your stomach to pull your back to his chest.

You quickly pull away, eyes glaring at him.

“Let me remind you that we’re not actually together right now. Please don’t compliment me or touch me. I’m only here because of the boys,” you spit out, turning your head so he doesn’t see the tears lining your eyes.

He stays quiet in either embarrassment or sadness, you don’t bother looking into it.

When it’s finally your turn for pictures, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“So how are we going to pose?” Mat asks, this time hesitantly.

“We’re not posing. Just the boys are going to be in the pictures this year,” you say, trying not to look at Mat’s crestfallen face. It’s tradition for your family to take pictures with Santa all together.

“Why? We’ve never not taken pictures without us in them,” he says in a low tone, but you can tell he’s pissed.

“I’m not going into detail right now. Just get Nolan ready while I get Angel ready,” you say, making sure Angel’s outfit is straightened out.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, I’m trying really hard here and you’re just ruining everything,” Mat whispers in your ear, trying not to alarm anyone who is nearby.

You turn to him, this time the tears are visible in your eyes. You just stare at him in surprise. You weren’t expecting that from him. You quickly inhale a deep breath, handing Angel over to Santa as Mat does the same with Nolan.

“Okay, boys, smile!” The cameraman says. Nolan is smiling wide, but Angel bursts into tears just as the camera clicks.

“I’ll hold him while you take the picture,” Mat interjects as you’re about to step in to grab your crying baby.

You watch as Mat sits next to Santa, Angel- who’s calm now is sitting on his daddy’s lap with a little gummy smile as he’s getting tickled. Your boys look so handsome, dressed in their Christmas best with their little bow ties. You can’t help but let your eyes roam over Mat. He’s dressed in an all black button up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his wedding band on display from where his hand rests on Angel’s stomach. His smile is as beautiful as it always is, and if you didn’t know him so well, you wouldn’t have realized that his eyes don’t match the feigned happiness.

The camera clicks again and you discreetly wipe away a tear. Mat is right, you’re ruining everything.

Mat seems to catch your silent breakdown and calls for you to join them. He knows you’re going through it and that his words didn’t particularly help the situation.

You quickly get to them, pick up Nolan and set him on your lap as you all pose together for the final picture. You try not to let the fact that your wedding ring is nowhere to be seen ruin your pictures.

After paying for all your copies, Mat carries both boys back to your car. It’s a silent walk but you expected as much.

You keep to yourself as Mat gets the boys settled in their car seats, talking with Nolan and listening to Angel’s little babbles. He kisses them many times before finally closing the car door and turning to you.

You bid a quick goodbye with an awkward wave, but he stops you from getting into the car. He slightly shoves the door back closed, giving you no choice but to face him.

“What am I doing wrong?” His voice is strained and you’re not sure how long you can stare at him without throwing yourself in his arms. You’re craving his affection.

“What are you talking about?” You stall.

“You know what I’m talking about. If this is still about the fight we had, we can work through it. I truly didn’t mean to offend you and I wish you’d let me help us fix things. I can’t go on like this. You flipped out when I touched you back there and you’ve never done that before and it killed me. Please just let me touch you. Please let me fix us,” he pleads, pulling you into his arms.

For a split second, you start to cave, but then you remember that you’re pregnant. He still doesn’t know and you really don’t want him to figure it out on his own. You know that if he’s close to you for longer than he has been the past couple of months, he’d realize the changes in your body. He just knows you that well. You need to get away from him. There’s a time and place for you to have that talk, and right here, right now isn’t it.

“I’m sorry, Mathew. I need to get home. Please get home safe,” you pull away, pushing a hand into his chest and quickly getting into your car and pulling out of the parking lot.

Mat takes a few moments in the driver’s seat of his car, trying to collect his thoughts. He’s pissed with you for pushing him away and refusing to fix things, and he’s pissed with himself for saying things without thinking about what he’s saying or how he’s saying it. He just wants to hold you. He misses your warmth and the feel of your skin on his. Don’t even get him started with how beautiful you looked. You’re always beautiful to him, of course, but today your skin was glowing and your boobs were peeking out from your top and he just misses you so bad. You actually looked like you usually do when you’re pregnant, and it makes Mat reminisce on simpler times.

Christmas 2029

“Look at my pretty princess,” your husband coos, lifting Sloane in his arms. She scrunches her legs up and you hear Mat gush over her cuteness.

“The pretty princess needs to eat,” you interrupt their moment, bringing Sloane into your arms, pulling down the shoulder of your top and letting her attach to your nipple.

“Look at my sexy wife. I love you,” Mat whispers in your ear, kissing the side of your neck.

“I love you, so much,” you lean up, puckering your lips for a kiss. He quickly obliges.

“Kith!” Angel comes toddling in, arms up so someone can pick him up.

“Yes, kisses for you, too, bub,” Mat gives him a kiss then leans him towards you so you can give him a kiss.

“Ready to see Santa?”

“Anta? No!” AJ giggles, hiding his face in Mat’s neck.

“Oh boy,” you sigh, hoping he doesn’t throw a tantrum.

“I’m going to get them buckled in. You two meet me at the car,” he gives you one last kiss and dashes out the room.

“I don’t remember this being so difficult,” Mat says in line for pictures. You got there thirty minutes ago, but it was packed to the brim. Adding a third kid to the mix makes things that much more complicated. Yes, it’d be easier to hire someone to take these pictures in your home, but you want to keep up the tradition.

“Good thing Sloane is still asleep. If she gets woken up from her nap, she will go ballistic,” you respond.

“Mommy, I don’t want to see Santa,” Nolan says, pouting at you and Mat.

He is still iffy about Santa being that he had a “dream” of you kissing the man in red.

“Honey, I promise it was just a dream. You don’t have to worry,” you assure him.

“Yeah, Nolie bear. Mommy only gives me kisses,” Mat adds.

“And me and Lo and AJ,” Nolan corrects him.

“Yes, baby. Only you guys,” you say and he continues to pout. You try to ignore it, because you don’t want him to start acting bratty about it.

When your photo session rolls around, Nolan is first to get settled. He’s right next to Santa. You and Mat place Sloane and Angel on Santa’s lap. You fix each of your babies’ outfits, making sure their hair isn’t going crazy and that their spirits are bright by tickling their tummies. You make your way to Mat, fixing a strand of his hair and adjusting the collar of his button up. You give him a chaste kiss and quickly sit down and pose next to your husband and on the opposite side of where Nolan is sitting.

The first photo would’ve been perfect, but Nolan is caught glaring at the poor man.

The next one is nice, though, because Nolan finally looks at the camera. However, it’s when you and Mat walk away for the kids to take a photo without you both that things get crazy.

Sloane realizes she isn’t in your or her daddy’s arms, so she starts wailing. Her wails eventually set off Angel, so you now have a picture of two crying babies squirming on Santa’s lap while Nolan is giving him the side eye.

“You kissed my mommy!” Nolan jumps down from where he was seated, arms crossed over his chest.

You gasp in surprise, a hand over your mouth to stop your laugh. Santa looks up at you and Mat, clearly not knowing how to respond.

“No anta! No anta! Mama,” Angel calls out for you, but you and your husband are already picking them up in your arms.

“I am so sorry. They’re a bit wild today,” Mat says to the man as he tries to calm Sloane down by rocking her in his arms.

“Not my first rodeo, so it’s totally fine,” the man says.

Your family moves to the line to pay and pick up your photos, still trying to soothe your children.

“Are you okay, my love?” You look down at Nolan while he grasps your hand tightly.

“I’m sorry. I got angry for a little,” Nolan whispers, eyes downcast.

“I love you, little man,” Mat jumps in when you fail to find the right words. You didn’t feel the need to berate him, but you also just didn’t know what to say.

“I love you, daddy. I love you, mommy.”

“I love you, Nolie bear,” you lean down and press a kiss to his puckered lips.

“Lo and AJ didn’t like Santa either,” Nolan points out.

You and Mat let out a laugh, low enough to not disturb the new found peace of your two little ones.

“No they didn’t, baby,” you giggle.

“These are going to be the best Santa pictures yet,” Mat whispers in your ear, pulling your body into his chest.

“Oh yeah. Angry babies and Santa Claus are a perfect combination. We oughta make them into Christmas cards and send them to everyone,” you joke, smiling wide at the sound of your husband’s laughter. You feel an overwhelming sense of happiness basking in his warmth and his overall presence. A year ago things were rocky, and you weren’t sure how life was going to turn out. You’re just glad that everything is exactly the way it’s supposed to be. You and Mat together with your three babies, just as in love as you two were during your first pictures with Santa.

a/n: Enjoy!!!!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal smut #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

[0strawberrysorbet0]

𝐴 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟

𝐻𝑎𝑧𝑏𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑙 𝑥 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑒!𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

This is a series so if you'd like to be tagged simply just comment!

Please do not use/steal my work on this site or any other! Resposts and likes are appreciated greatly!!

Don't worry they'll find out who each other are evey soon 😈 NEXT CHAPTER IS THE MEETING!!

Part two ← Part three → Part four

Summary: Charlie remembers something from her past about an angel boy. (M/N) has another dream about someone who looks just like his father, the devil.

Warnings: Weird layout, Lilith, probably spelling mistakes, idk anything else

It had been quite a bit since her last meeting with the angels and honestly? Nothing was better. I mean there was Sir Pentious and now her father. But that was it.

She had forgotten about the sightings of the angel outside the meeting room until she kept dreaming about it. The angel that looked so much like her mother.

It made her sad really to think about it. She missed her mother dearly. Her leaving put out the barely lit flame that was melting their family together.

She dreamed about the angel, and on closer inspection, it was a boy. During these dreams she could really see him more, had little ducks and trees embroidered into his robe. The tree had an apple dangling on a thin branch.

She felt like she recognized him. But she couldn't place it anywhere.

Except... From a picture she saw decades ago when she was little...

"𝘋𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺?" 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘴, 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘴. "𝘠𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴?"

𝘏𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘯𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 "𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?" 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 a 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘺.. Who had 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴...

𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴...

"𝘖𝘩 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵? 𝘗𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺! 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸! 𝘈𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴!"

𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳.. 𝘓𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴..

𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴

𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴

ϐׁᥣׁׅ֪ᨵׁׅׅ݊ꪀժׁׅ݊ꫀׁׅܻ݊hׁׅ֮ɑׁׅꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅꭈׁׅᥣׁׅ֪ɑׁׁׅׅ᥎ׁׅꫀׁׅܻ݊݊ꪀժׁׅ݊ꫀׁׅܻ݊ꭈׁׅꫀׁׅܻ݊ᨮׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻׅ݊꯱

Wait. How the hell would her dad know this guy? I mean yeah her father was once a heavenly being but he looked young. Very young.

Ugh. Dead ends were all she had seemed to see for months.

"Char! Char?" Shit, the very man himself. Her father.

"Oh, yeah dad?" She said, stiffly. Turning around the face the shorter man, plastering a smile onto her face. He places a hand onto her shoulder "goodluck yeah?"

She nodded at him, pulling him in a hug "thanks dad. I'll convince them I swear!"

..............................................................................................

Here he was again. His stupid dream. The same sequence. The same pattern. He'd had these dreams ever since he could remember. They weren't as bad as when he was little but recently had been springing up again.

But it was different. This time he wandered mindlessly, but he could control it slightly. He could choose where to look. He looked down and saw a small pair of feet, covered in dirt as they stepped on the fresh grass.

He also saw a woman in the distance, she was not dressed but that was the least of his concern. She was sitting and talking to someone. His father? Looked just like him. But why would he be talking to a human? His father was always strict on the no-talking-to-the-humans rule.

It couldn't be. Could it? That man had to be the devil. Holy shit.

He desperately tried to turn and walk away but his feet brought him in front of the man.

"ƙׁׅյׁׅ݊ꪀյׁׅժׁׅ݊ᝯׁׅ֒꯱! There you are! We've been looking for you! Your mother was worried sick!" the man said, he noticed the woman has dried tears on her face, her eyelids puffy... The eyelids held a pair of pretty lavender eyes.

He didn't have a Mother. Did he? His father told him that he was shaped by God himself. As a gift to Michael.

The woman held out a hand as she encouraged him to sit with her. He couldn't reach the tip of the rock however, he was short, strange..he was always a rather tall angel. He was the height of a small child.

He tried to lean forward and grab the hand but the dream faded. The colours swirled and noises went wild. Until he could hear a woman and man's heartbroken cry before waking up.

"(M/N)!? Wake up! Why are you crying!?" That voice, although his eyes where still closed he could tell it was Emily.

She and he had weekly sleepovers, what usually happened was he'd stay awake all night so these dreams wouldn't happen. But she had made him watch these movies she found out about from new 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴, called Star Wars. She made him watch the whole series so he had fallen asleep around the fourth movie.

His eyes snapped open, sitting up quickly "No no I'm okay. Just a bad dream. It's normal" he answered softly, pulling some hair out of her face tenderly. "You sure?.. Wanna talk about it?" She asked, he could tell she was worried, her heart was too big for her body sometimes. "Well what time is it?" He rubbed his eyes, stretching

"7:53am"

"Okay then" he said, he then told her about all the dreams and the one he had just had, her jaw was open before she gasped "oh my.. Wow. You have to tell someone! Sera? Your father?" She smiled "these aren't normal. I mean you've never even been to earth!"

"No no no no. I'm not telling them. They'll think there's something wrong with me. That I'm mad."

"Still... " Emily stared, "Ems I'm fine just drop it and get ready for the meeting thing, you're helping Sera right?"

"Mhm!" She nodded, "You're still coming right? Pleeeaaseee!"

"Don't worry I'll be there, so the devil's really being let up here huh? What are they thinking?" He rolled his eyes, his uncle would be allowed into the heavenly gateways in less than a few hours.

"No! It's his daughter! She looks nice I think"

"You're too trusting of people Em, they're monsters. They're in hell for a reason" she softly hit his sleeve, "hush! Surely some of them are good? Some are hell born after all. They didn't do anything to be there"

"Whatever you say" he stood up, brushing through his hair with his hands, before fixing the bedding and looking back at her, who was layed on a sleeping bag, drowned in blankets "why do you hate them so much?"

"That... 𝘏𝘦 betrayed my father. 𝘏𝘦 betrayed God himself. He did so much harm and is basically getting away with it. My poor father was left in the dark by 𝘩𝘪𝘮. His 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳." He sighed "now come on. Let's get you ready"

Emily bit her lip, getting up and following him to the bathroom, making herself presentable for the meeting. She was so excited. Hopefully Sera will be nicer to the devil's child. Maybe the demon would get her ideas through.

Hopefully.

Tag list - @demstarno @kenny-619 @bunbunboysworld @lovedesperatevampire @stealing-kneecaps @paastaboi @1yyyan @enjisthings

#a hidden star #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #male!reader #male!y/n #m/n #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel sera #hazbin hotel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

[chaoticace2005]

I think about Angel a lot. And rn I'm thinking about Angel going through a period of hypermasculinity after he rids himself of his contract with Valentino. I can't imagine that as a man from the environment he was in when he was alive, that his style is something he brought WITH HIM to Hell. Sure, his favorite color being pink isn't a new development, but I think the skimpy outfits and short skirts and cleavage showing shirts and dresses that cling a bit too tight are probably a combined product of defiance of the values his father held so dear, genuine interest in trying more feminine fashion, and Valentino forcing a certain type of image on him (whether directly or as a result of certain expectations/coming mechanism for the situations he put Angel in).

So I can imagine Angel going through this self imposed hyperfeminity to distance himself from the bad thoughts and feelings and situations, followed by hypermasculinity because after being forced to be, the idea of femininity becomes nauseating and just laced with the bad memories and sensations, followed by healing and rediscovery of what made the femininity feel good in the first place. Recontextualizing it. Finding ways he can enjoy it so that it's different from before. And maybe he never gets comfortable enough to wear certain things again, and that would be ok, too.

I have this sequence of events in my head of Angel coming down to the communal area of the hotel the day after getting rid of the contract (however he does that) wearing black sneakers, a dark red hoodie, and gray sweatpants, no make-up and with his hair still tussled from sleep. It's the first time they've seen him with no gloves (outside of his pornos) (Where he got the clothes? He and Cherri spent the previous night burning everything Valentino has ever given him (EXCLUDING FAT NUGGETS) and went on a shopping spree for new clothes. She got a little worried when Angel started picking things that went the opposite direction to his usual style, but when Angel said he didn't want to wear something that looked like Val had picked it for him she went ham with choices).

Charlie might worry, not necessarily because it's a bad thing, but because it's such an abrupt chance after such an emotionally charged event that she doesn't know if it's a good or a bad change.

It would be the best day of Alastor's life. 10/10. He compliments Angel once, but in a backhanded kinda way by implying the other way he dressed made him a slut or something like that, saying Angel looks much better covered up, and Angel genuinely thanks him. He's a little freaked out by that last part, but he takes the win.

Husk is worried, tries to have a "wear whatever the fuck you want" kinda conversation. But Angel tells him THIS is what he wants to wear. That the idea of wearing the same things he did while under contract makes him feel sick. Like he's still under Val's thumb.

He would still be hypersexual. His personality wouldn't change, only his wardrobe does. And maybe some words go out of his vocabulary. But he's still a flirt (much to Alastor's chagrin), he still sleeps around (though as we've seen in the show over time it would become less in a self destructive way but more as a genuine interest in doing so. Nothing wrong with one night stands), he would still see the most valuable part of him as what he can do, sexually, for someone.

But dressing differently would make him feel like he has more control over his life.

This... Became longer than I expected. Sorry. I know some people don't post asks that are too much like drabbles, but uuuuhh I hope you don't mind. This is more incoherent character analysis I guess.

-🐇

I love this honestly, I’ve thought about this too! Angel swinging far in the other direction for a bit after he gets freedom from Valentino, trying to figure out what HE likes.

I assume he had to be pretty masculine with his family, and with his death he was able to be more free to explore femininity. But then with Val it went the complete opposite direction.

Him completely having freedom could allow him to explore what he likes, allowing him to form his own connections with femininity/masculinity that goes beyond what others expect from him or what front he has to put up to be “safe.”

I might put this in my list for later because this definitely would be fun to explore! And also I love all these messages im getting from you. They both expand on ideas I’ve had on Angel and also introduce new ones! And makes me more motivated to write something when I have the chance.

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel

[calehenituse-brainrot]

Disturbed Rest

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

Something sinister had happened within the island.

You have known John as deeply as you know yourself, and he knows you as deeply as he knows himself. Memories mixed together, his memories became yours and yours became his. Some bits are missing, either because you both can't remember yourself or because of some divine intervention.

You see John in the faces of nearly every kind, older men you see; be it strangers, professors, or even cleaning services back at your college, and John sees you in the faces of every innocent girl he had ever seen in his life, and often in the face of his right-hand woman, Kore. He feared one day he will forget Kore's face with how often yours were replacing hers. 

You don't know how long you and John had been stuck in this loop of memories. Has it been days, months, or years? You wondered what happened to your body with John's after the ship had sunken. You can't remember past anything the moment your body had hit the water. Are you declared dead or missing? If dead, did they enact a search for you and the others? Did they manage to bring you home and give you a place to rest?

"What kind of graves do you think we would have?"

John seemed a bit surprised at the question. He glanced at you for a moment, knowing full well that there were no graves for the two of you, and yet he spoke his answer casually, "Considering you're the Duke's proxy, you'd get those fancy granite slab headstones."

You scrunched your nose as you think about it and John gave you a thin smile, "What? Not fancy enough for you?"

"Try too fancy," you muttered, pulling your knees to your chest as you gaze out to the sight of you and the rest of the people you have called your own family the moment you got transported there.

You were walking beside who you knew as Cale. You could recognize him so easily despite how his face was horrifically switching to the faces of your old male friends. The way he carried himself, how he dressed. Your brain reminds you frequently of him and it made you realize you have accepted the fictional character to be another human being too many months ago. It is an odd moment for such an epiphany.

"I've been feeling weird these days," John suddenly says. You turn to the man, a teasing remark about to fall from your lips to question him how he could feel if he's dead when you noticed something.

John stood beside you, appearing like he was some sort of ghost. He was nearly transparent.

"John?"

Cale sat on a meadow of dianthus flowers, the purple flowers with white tips blowing on the wind and spreading across the field like someone had dumped a basket full of flowers there. He sees the sky, red and orange-like flames as the sun began to set. He sees you in the distance, wearing your modest sundress and walking along the meadow, stomping on the flowers without a care in the world. You don't seem to notice him, picking up your sundress a bit like a noblewoman so you wouldn't step on the lovely dress.

Your hair moves with the wind and with every step you take. Under the shine of the setting sun, your skin seemed to glow warmly. This is how he remembers you and it will always be like this forever. He has no memory of pale skin and bloated skin on you. He had never seen your breathing stop, and for once, Cale was glad he never could have found you. He was not sure he could stomach another death. 

Cale calls out for your name, his voice quiet. He began to stand up and watch your figure as it began to get smaller in his line of vision, watching you walk away from him and towards the sunset. Cale calls for your name again, louder this time as he began to follow you, his long legs slowly moving faster as his heart began to drum in his ribcage, begging to be freed from its confines to pursue it's object of affection itself. 

You're too slow, his heart seemed to plead. Please, I need her.

Cale calls out your name again, beginning to run despite how he knew he wasn't the best at sports in this body. But in this dream, his body is light and yet heavy at the same time. He desperately reached for you, arm extends and he almost jolted at the feeling of your blowing sundress brushing against the tips of his fingers.

His heart soared. More, it begs him.

You turn around and before Cale could see your face, the meadow seemed to grow larger. The flowers and tall grass seemed to move together, elongating and swirling in odd ways before they encased you as if you were a pupa. The last thing he could see was how your [e/c] eyes seemed to stare at him before a branch covered that small opening as well.

Cale woke up with a start, his face feeling wet and breathing slightly labored. He lets go of Raon who he had tucked close to his side as he slept, hand coming up to clutch at his chest as he tried to slow down his heartbeat. He feels the scar there and tries to remind himself that it was just a bad dream. It was an odd, bad dream. Cale turns to the window, seeing that the sun was shining bright, meaning he had overslept again.

'Huh,'  he thought, rubbing his face. 'Damn.'

He was supposed to be up earlier to look around the library for anything that could be of use regarding foreign primordial gods. 

He slowly got up from the bed, making sure to not wake the kids as he began to freshen up a bit before having Ron help him. He doesn't want the butler to know he had a bad dream, because Ron had been looking at Cale with a certain gaze lately ever since they had begun looking for any primordial foreign gods that could have been the ones to persuade you to leave them all. 

You are desperate, the older man's gaze seems to say. Cale doesn't feel like confirming or denying that assumption, so he never probed further.

"Young Master-nim," Ron began slowly as Cale and the kids were enjoying their dessert. 

Cale looks up at Ron, swallowing a bite of his blueberry cupcake. "What is it?"

The three kids peered at Ron curiously. They were curious about what Ron wanted to say and that he needed to speak of it during their lunch.

"I think it's about time this humble servant of yours handle the arrangement for Miss [Name]'s room and her remaining belongings," Ron proposed, his words uttered in a soft way that sounded unfamiliar to him. 

The keys to her room, his words implied. Give them to me.

Ron had observed the way Cale grieves. He sees what Cale does to cope with this loss, and he decides it's enough. It's time he locks your door and manages the room whenever it needs any cleaning or refurbishing if any of the furniture were to start falling apart. You already have an empty grave at the memorial. There was no need for another one here. 

Cale stared at the blueberry cupcake as if it were the most interesting thing in his life as he listened to Ron's words, immediately catching on to the implications. He acknowledge the odd way he was attached to your room and belongings were unhealthy, and he has no room to argue with Ron. "Okay."

Ron nodded, bowing his head a bit. "Thank you, Young Master-nim."

Cale leans back to the couch he was sitting on, finally looking up at Ron. "Any news from the others?"

"None so far, I'm afraid," Ron says as he began cleaning up the table, picking up the dirty dishes to the stainless steel food cart. 

"Oh, Human, Human!" Raon began to say, taking out the magic communication device from his spatial inventory. The device glowed and showed Withira's anxious face as Raon placed it on the table.

"Cale-nim," Withira greeted, her expression mixed with something like anxiety and hope. "I have news regarding Miss [Name]."

Cale's eyes widened for a moment before he frowned. Withira wasn't informed of your letter and how a foreign god seemed to be the trigger for you to leave them all. Cale concluded grimly that the reason why Withira could be calling for him now about you is possibly because she finally came across your corpse. "Did you find her... her body?"

Withira shakes her head and she leaned forward to her screen, causing her to appear bigger in Cale's. "Even better. I found her alive and breathing."

Cale's eyes widened and he stared at Withira. The future royal leader of the Whales has no reason to lie to him, and she would be foolish to use you to even make a joke like this. Cale knew Withira well, and she was no fool and loyal to a tee. "What do you mean?"

"She's alive?" Ohn asked while looking up at Withira with a glimmer of hope in her eyes, something Cale realized had been gone ever since you were officially declared dead.

"Are you sure?" Asked Cale with a frown, his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage like it had when he had woken up earlier.

"I held her," Withira says as calmly as she could. "She was warm and breathing. I checked her pulse and even pressed my ear to her chest to make sure, and her heart was beating. It was slow, but it was there."

Cale's brain was a mess, trying to grasp reality. He searched for every hypothesis his brain could come up with on how you could still be alive. The ship had sunk far from land and it was close to dangerous waters. You're human, so devastatingly human. You wouldn't be able to survive. You should have died from drowning, from dehydration, and perhaps you should have died from being feasted on by the predators of the sea.

You shouldn't be alive.

"Show me," Cale says, a tinge of hope beginning to be shown in his voice.

Withira pursed her lips. "I... I cannot."

Cale frowned and so did everyone in the room. Hong looked at Withira's image on Cale's screen and asked, "Why not?"

"She was on an island," Withira says. "There is a floating island that had been going in and out of our territory for hundreds of years, perhaps even thousands. I, along with Paseton and Archie, stumbled upon it during our swim. We inspected the island and found proof of an ancient civilization and no animals living there. When we ventured deeper, we found Miss [Name]. She was in a ruin, on top of a stone altar, and she wasn't conscious."

"Did you manage to get her out of there?" asked Cale, his suspicions and interest piqued at the situation Withira had faced. It was weird and unsettling how you were alive all this time, laying in a ruin within a floating island that he had never heard of.

"We were attacked before we could," Withira says. 

"Attacked?" Cale repeated. The gears in his brain worked. Who could attack them? A floating island in the middle of the ocean. Could you have been saved? Or stranded on that island? Perhaps this was the place that foreign god promised you, as you've mentioned in your letter. Perhaps this was proof that your so-called death was perhaps just a tiny scheme within a great one if you needed to be on that island to the point your "rescuers" would be attacked the moment they touched you.

"Cale-nim," Withira says grimly. "The island... could possibly be alive. Sentient."

Cale rubbed his face a bit as he let the information sink in. He's racking his brain, trying to connect your letter and the information Withira had given him. An island that was sentient, but your letter claimed to hear voices. Even if an island was alive and sentient, whatever that meant, it couldn't possibly use telepathic communication with a clear target of who would be the receiver.

"The island floats, you say?" Cale asked. 

Withira nodded. "Yes. Some of our whales are tailing the island as we speak. The island is able to grow long barks that attack, even underwater, so we must keep a safe distance away."

Cale looks at Withira's image on his screen, his hand covering his mouth as he thinks. His mind is jumbled and he's trying his best to think logically. Cage, Jack, and Hannah had been sure that whoever it is that had been communicating with you is a God. "Are there any signs of religion or worship that happened on that island before the civilization died out?"

Withira's eyes widened and by the looks of her expression, Cale only needed her to voice out the answer. Withira slowly nodded, "Y-yes... There were many sculptures of flowers propped on a pedestal all around the island. The ruin we have found Miss [Name] in resembled a great hall or even a place of worship."

"Flowers," Cale repeated, interested.

Withira nodded once more. "Yes, flowers. The barks around the island move like your power, Cale-nim. They are able to elongate and grew and shrink in size, and they have flowers all over the island that has the same shape as the flowers that were sculpted to represent their deity."

A deity within a floating island that controls trees and is represented by a flower, Cale made this mental note. "And the flowers. What do they look like?"

"They were..." Withira closed her eyes, recalling the flowers that grew in the island. It was a unique flower that she had never seen before. "They were purple, perhaps even a deep red, with white tips."

Withira's description made Cale straighten his posture. He recognized this flower. That was the flowers he dreamt of earlier when he woke up. Was this some kind of sign? A sign from you? Perhaps, even the world? Or was this to taunt him?

"Thank you, Miss Withira," Cale says, beginning to stand up. "We will come to your location within a few days time and request that your company lead us to this island."

Withira nodded, bowing her head slightly in respect. "We will be waiting for you."

The next few days were a frenzy for everyone.

Cale and his company were intensely researching a foreign god that was represented by a flower and associated with nature. There were plenty of minor gods that were associated with nature, so it was a large margin to work with. Cale had requested Alver to aid in their research as well, ordering a few scholars to work within the Duchy and the Palace library to find answers. They had enlisted several people in the neighboring Kingdoms and Eastern Continent as well to research, hoping for any sliver of solution.

When they eventually stumble upon a list of few possibilities, Cale and his company eventually went to one of the islands within the Whales' territory, seeing Withira already waiting for them along with Archie.

"You're here," Withira breathed out, the weight of anxiety on her shoulder lifting a bit upon seeing Cale and his company, their faces slightly anxious and hopeful. 

"Have you gotten back to the island? How is [Name]?" Rosalyn asked almost immediately, anxiety laced within her voice. Withira gave the red-haired mage a solemn shake of her head, blue hair that resembled clear ocean waters swaying lightly. "Our men haven't been able to go near the island within a few meters. I've instructed them to safely tail the floating island from a safe distance."

Cale took note of Withira's words, recalling the information Withira had given them regarding the floating island's capabilities to ward off intruders by growing barks from below the floating sediment that it seemed to grow on. It caused any large underwater creatures unable to go near the island, protecting the soft base of the island to not break apart. He could assume you weren't regarded as a danger according to the island's "instincts" as you were able to enter and stay within the island. Or maybe you were brought by something or someone.

"So we wouldn't be able to reach the island safely," Cale says to Withira, who nodded as she jumped back to the waters and transformed to be her whale form.

"Please be on your guard the whole time we approach the island," Withira says as Cale and the others began to get on top of a ship tied to Archie's whale form. "The island is able to attack within a distance so this boat will most likely be destroyed while out in the middle of the ocean. You will have to fight your way into the island."

"And the island is sentient," Ron seems to remind Cale. "It seems even if we did get onto the island, we wouldn't be safe within it."

"That's right," Withira confirmed. "The island flourished in its flora, which could move and change shapes and sizes to attack and defend. Thankfully, the island lacked any fauna. Not even birds, so we can be sure it doesn't have control over mammals and such. That could be why there were no animals. Too hard to control."

Cale caressed the kittens' fur. "That's a good thing to know."

"I've never heard of a floating sentient island before," Rosalyn chimed in with a thoughtful look. "We've conducted a heavy research for a few days with some of the royal scholars and several from other countries, but found nothing."

"It is a popular folklore within our kingdom," Withira informed. "We all have heard of the stories of a floating island ever since we were mere calves. We've always been told to avoid it if we ever see it, though this is the first time I have seen it in my two hundred years of life."

"What does the folklore entail?" asked Choi Han with interest. Folklore of certain communities has always been an interesting thing to learn about and some always seemed to be mystical and unsettling.

Withira seemed to think for a moment, perhaps thinking back to her childhood. "That within the floating island lived a very sad man. He could not leave the island and had no friends. To avoid the feeling, he decided to sleep. Every time he woke up, he is devastated to know he still felt sad, so he would always go back to sleep every time he woke up. He slept, slept, and slept until he eventually falls into a deep slumber where no one could wake him up."

"It has been a story to scare young calves for sleeping too much and not training themselves," says Paseton. "We've only been told to stay away from the island to not rouse the man from sleeping and also because even our previous kings had been adamant on not approaching the island if not needed."

'Quite the lazy story,' Cale thought to himself, but he did have to admit the story was quite realistic. Sleeping and depression go hand-in-hand. 

"Well, did you find a man there?" Cale asked. He wants to know whether or not the folklore had some truth in it.

"We found a corpse of one," Withira answered. "And we also found [Name], alive but not conscious."

"How long do you estimate the man has been dead?" asked Cale, a theory brewing in his mind.

"Long enough," Withira answered. "Maybe around two-three months."

The gears in Cale's brain seemed to click and agree upon a theory. That was around the time the ship you boarded sunk. 

'Could it be...?'

Following a floating island meant following an object that's constantly moving. Withira suspects that it was capable to avoid being so close to any shores was due to the bark that was capable of growing on the base of the island, navigating it to tour the ocean non-stop. 

It took them nearly five hours when they managed to get a glimpse of the island. A glimpse. The blue morning sky had turned into an orange canvas with splashes of red and purple when Cale and his companions saw the floating island. It was followed by a couple of Whales, the water splitting and rippling from the swish of their tails as they followed the island from a safe distance.

"How magnificent," Rosalyn breathed out in wonder as she lays her eyes upon the island. 

The island was quite small, floating quietly on the deep ocean waters. The edges of the island were stones and large boulders, curling up inwards and resembling a roughly made stone bowl. It was green and flourishing, tall trees and long, multiple branches with many leaves. But the one thing that was eye-catching about the island was the tall tree in the middle of the island, looming the other trees so magnificently, to the point it looked like the island was the root of this big tree.

"Look at the bark of the main tree," Withira says to them all. 

They all followed her words, inspecting the large tree and with its odd bark. The tree looked like it was made of multiple barks, twirled together and stretched until it was nearly as high as the skies. Multiple dianthus flowers, in color and sizes, grow on the tree along with its bark.

"The root of those twirling barks is where Miss [Name] is," Withira informed. "With the island being sentient, we cannot erase the possibility of the tree immediately closing in on her when your motives became clear."

"Your Highness," Archie suddenly says, pausing on splitting the waters. "It has noticed us."

"What?" Choi Han asked with wide eyes. "Their radar goes this far?"

"Everyone, please hang on!" Archie exclaimed, sounding alarmed, and Cale and the others immediately held onto the railings of the ship. 

Archie bends his whale form so impossibly sharp, his jaws open and he bit down into the oncoming bark underwater. The bark seemed to go frantic, trying to thrash out from Archie's jaws. Multiple barks immediately shot out from underneath the floating island, spreading and targeting every Whale on its tail while keeping themselves underwater. The ship swished along with his movements as he's attempting to rip the bark and it took only moments before the ship capsized, upside down in the ocean.

Another killer whale came, trying to protect the ship they were on as Withira joined the defense, trying to ward off the oncoming barks. Cale made the wind gather into his feet and pushed himself further to support the others so they wouldn't drop to the ocean, spurting blood from his mouth.

"Cale-nim!" Choi Han exclaimed in worry. His voice caught the attention of others and they turned to him, all of them equally concerned. 

"Human, don't push yourself!" Raon reminds him with glassy eyes while Cale set them all to the wet hull of the capsized ship, a temporary solution to their current problem. Cale was on his knees, coughing out some blood as his body worked to restore his energy. 

"Young Master-nim," Ron says, kneeling next to Cale and offering him a handkerchief. Concern crossed his face with the way his eyebrows are slightly creased, the corner of his lips pulled into a displeased frown.

"This is your chance!" Withira exclaimed, smacking an attacking bark with such force that it immediately broke off and became a deadhead in the middle of the ocean. "We will clear the pathways. Get on my back and hang on tight. We will try to avoid the attacking barks."

"We will try to help," Choi Han says with a determined look.

"I'm fine," Cale says to Ron before the butler could help him stand up and help him to Withira's back.

Cale sat in the middle of Withira's back, hand on top of the scar on her form as he prepared himself. Ohn and Hong was tucked close to his chest, Cale holding them with one arm while Ron was beside him. Choi Han and Rosalyn stood in front of them, Rosalyn with her mana ready and with Raon floating by her side. Choi Han withdrew his sword and planted his feet on Withira's back. "Excuse us, Your Highness."

"Are you ready?" Withira asked them, her voice sounding tense.

"Yes," Cale responds.

Withira split the water when she swam, evading the barks and while her men fought off any barks that dared to attack her. Some barks shot out from the water to knock down those standing on her back, but Choi Han immediately sliced them off with his sword and Rosalyn and Raon would protect them by conjuring a shield. Sometimes a killer whale would jump out from the water to stop the barks and lighten the work for them. 

'They're trying their hardest to protect the island,' Cale thought as he watched how the barks had begun to focus more on Withira as she's the only one approaching the island right now.

"Shit-!" Rosalyn conjured up a bigger shield when a killer whale was thrown their way, thrashing in the air and then letting out a wail when it hit Rosalyn's shield. Her shield shook and flickered at the impact but Raon's shield immediately covered it.

"Crazy!" Withira exclaimed, watching as the barks began to chase for her Whales, thick barks wrapped around them and then rising from under the water before throwing the killer whales like toys at them. With more protection, the island began to earn more things to throw at her. "Back down!"

The Whales immediately followed her roar, backing down and avoiding the barks. Withira swam further, mustering all her capabilities into this one swim and the water split as if a high-speed ship with a sharp keel had swam through them, approaching the island quickly. Raon and Rosalyn put more effort into their shields as the barks began to attack them straight on above the water and Choi Han took every chance to slice them off.

"Urgh-!" Withira was suddenly set back as two thick barks quickly shot out and pushed her. The inertia caused the group to nearly got thrown into the dangerous waters but Cale immediately gathered all of his powers and gathered wind into their feet, carrying them up into the air and quickly controlling the wind to bring them into the island.

"Thank you, Your Highness!" Cale exclaimed, trying to make them all land safely inside the island, behind the curling boulders. He ended up throwing them to the dirt a bit haphazardly, but the skilled people he was with managed to land on their feet.

Withira and the Whales swam back, watching from afar. The barks immediately backed down as well and gathered back underneath the floating island's foundation underwater. Withira could feel the two spots on her belly where the barks had pushed her, knowing she will have a hard time swimming for a while if not healed properly. She turned to her Whales, "Is everyone okay?"

As Withira checked on her Whales, Cale and the others looked around the island. Cale had known of floating islands, most were artificial for different purposes, and natural floating islands couldn't get too big. But this one? It was magnificent. The earth was solid and the trees that grew on the island stood tall and loomed over them like giants, dense and slightly unsettling. 

"To be able to grow this tall and big..." Cale began, his voice fascinated. These trees were able to grow and flourish for nearly more than a millennium, and as he inspected them closer, he saw no damage done to the trees that could be caused by the constant exposure to salt-laden ocean spray. Typically, when trees grow so close to the ocean, the salt in the air can accumulate on leaves and stems, causing salt burn on plant tissues. Salt burns can disrupt the normal functioning of leaves, leading to reduced photosynthesis and overall stress on the tree.

The leaves on the trees don't even have any hint of yellowing or browning. It grows healthily despite growing so close to the ocean. In areas with high salt exposure, the soil can become saline due to the accumulation of salts from the ocean and it should have stunted the trees' growth, but these trees stood tall and strong for so many years. 

Cale touched the curling boulders that seemed to be protecting the island from having any stranded people or ships. The way it curled inwards made the island look like a giant bowl, and it could have been the thing that had been protecting the trees from too much ocean spray, as the curling boulders stood taller than Toonka seemed to be.

"I'm surprised the trees on this island aren't attacking us," Rosalyn commented, looking warily around the area. 

"I thought the island is sentient?" Ohn questioned, pawing lightly at one of the roots of a tree with Hong beside her. In her mind (along with the rest of theirs), the island should have been more aggressive the moment they stepped into the island's dirt.

"Keep your guard up," Cale says with a frown. "Her Highness told us [Name] is at the center of the island, underneath the roots of the main tree."

They all turned their heads to look up at the looming tall tree that stood in the middle of the island, so tall that Cale was sure if he went up there, he would be cold and have a hard time breathing. Cale turned to look at the dense forest in front of them, seeing how there were cobblestone paths laid within the dirt as steps, mold growing on them and many were cracked. He turned to Raon, "Raon, do you think you can see the path to the main tree if you fly high enough?"

Raon offered Cale a smile. "Of course! I am the mighty Raon Miru!"

"Good," Cale says with a smile, gently patting the dragon's head before Raon flew up high enough until he could map out the area. He turned to them, calling out, "Human, follow me! I can see the root of that big tree!"

"Let us go," Cale says, walking forward and entering the dense forest, his companions following him from behind with their guards up.

As they walked deeper into the forest, more proof of a past civilization began appearing. The cobblestones were spread in the dirt like a path of a no-transport city, several cobblestones, clay, and wood lay on the ground on what they all assumed must be the homes of the people who used to live there, nature taking over the buildings and have broken them down back into their natural states. Some roots of trees were so big and thick that it was hard to not see and trip on one of them. There were several pedestals of boulders that had been carved into the shape of a dianthus flower, which oddly seemed to be the native flower within the island.

An ancient civilization couldn't be wiped out of existence so quickly like this. It would need some kind of draught or perhaps a drop in the humidity, but the trees flourish here and it would certainly provide enough food for them. Perhaps even a tsunami or an erupting volcano wiped them all out, but the ruins within the island showed that there was no eruption and no tsunamis. The floating island wasn't connected to any tectonic plates so it wouldn't be able to even experience an actual earthquake. The curling boulders by the shore would prevent anyone from leaving, so they couldn't have migrated.

"C-Cale-nim," Choi Han stammered, face averted from Cale and looking down at a lowland from where they were.

"What is it, Choi Han?" asked Rosalyn, following his gaze and her face also paled.

Cale approached them both and looked at where they were looking at. It was a graveyard site that stretched over fifty by fifty meters. Typically a graveyard site wouldn't make one freeze in place, but in front of them was a graveyard site that had all of its graves dug out, graveyard dirt tossed to the side and from their place on an elevated spot, Cale could see that there were no bodies within the graves.

"They all look freshly dug," Ron says quietly. If the graves were dug out a long time ago, the piled-up soil nearby wouldn't be looser and less compacted than the surrounding ground. 

'Are we going to fight the undead?' Cale thought to himself, bewildered. He then discarded his thoughts the moment he noticed the dug-out soil didn't look like it was removed from inside the grave. 

"Let's hurry," Cale says, anxiety crawling up his spine. He bends down a bit, gently pushing the kittens to face away from the graveyard site. "Follow Raon. We need to find [Name] first."

Choi Han forced himself to look away and continued walking. He couldn't imagine having his loved ones' graves disturbed in such a degrading way like that. Rosalyn pats his back, urging him to walk forward and follow Raon who was waving at them, blissfully ignorant of the reason for their sudden stop as he had flown a bit further.

"Human! I found the roots!" Raon announced with a slight grimace. "And it stinks!" 

#cale henituse #cale henituse x reader #trash of the count's family #lout of count's family #tcf cale #lcf cale #tcf manhwa

[hungergamesheadcanons]

You Certainly Took Your Time, My Love

Annie didn't know what had happened.

One minute she was old and frail, laying in bed with her sweet Caspian beside her. She'd died, she'd thought, looking at her son who was the exact picture of Finnick. Caspian's wife, Isla, and their twin daughters Naia and Talassa, were in Annie's kitchen, making a meal for her as she'd long since lost the ability to walk. Caspian had looked worried, his eyes filled with tears as Annie spoke slowly, and dying? Well, it had just felt like falling asleep.

But she woke up. Emerging from some kind of pool, she looked around the landscape. It was dark, thousands of tiny lights glittering in the darkness that Annie soon realised were stars. A gleaming white path stretched out into the distance, and the water around Annie's ankles fitted between colours, shades of pink, blue, green and red dancing beneath her feet.

And in front of her was Finnick.

"You certainly took your time, my love." He grinned, looking every bit as young as he had the day he had left her in 13. His body was flawless, no signs of the injuries inflicted upon him by the mutts Katniss had told her about years after he had passed, green eyes reflecting the lights surrounding them.

"What can I say?" Annie smiled, carefully stepping out of the pond and walking towards him. Her body was also young, probably slightly older than Finnick now - maybe around 25 or 26 - and clothed in a simple white dress that matched Finnick's loose clothing.

"I couldn't leave just yet."

"I'm glad you didn't," Finnick reached out to her, and he two embraced tightly, both shedding quiet tears for a matter of minutes before pulling apart. "I saw everything, Annie. Our son, his marriage, Naia and Talassa... You did so well, Annie. I'm just sorry I wasn't there to see it alongside you."

And Annie reached up to wipe the tear-tracks from his face, reveling in the way he nuzzled into her hand subconsciously. "What do you mean?" She asked, "I felt you beside me every day. Caspian knows you, and so does Isla, Naia, Talassa... They know you, and Mags, and Uncle Haymitch, Uncle Peeta and Auntie Katniss were always telling them stories of you. They knew you were there, watching over them."

Finnick was openly crying now, head still cradled between Annie's hands, and she leant in to kiss him gently. It was a sweet kiss, even filled with salt, and she let him pull himself together a little before asking her questions.

"Where's Mags? Haymitch? Johanna?"

"All down that path." He pointed. "They said it felt right to walk it. Mags waited for me, but she walked down that path after we... beat up, Snow. When he came through that pond we might have battered him a little bit."

"We?" Annie asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Yeah. Me, Prim - she left when her mother arrived -, Mags, Cashmere, Gloss, Wiress, a couple of guys from the squad, and two others. A Lucy Gray Baird from 12 - won just before Mags, they apparently enjoyed talking a lot before Snow showed up -, and a Sejanus Plinth. He didn't get the chance to walk the path - once we were done he took a step and just fell through it."

"I'm glad," Annie grinned, "he deserved it. So the rest of them are up that way?"

"Yep." Finnick nodded, resting his head on her shoulders. "And now it's our turn. Unless you're tied here?"

And Annie looked at the pond, looked at Caspian comforting his family at her funeral. Watched Katniss and Peeta and their children offer their condolences, being each other's support system and holding each other tight. Heard both of the adults from 12 telling him about how in love his parents were, and that they were surely reunited again to be sickeningly in love all over again.

He didn't need her to watch him.

"He'll be fine." She decided, taking Finnick's hand and starting to walk down the path. "I think we need to catch up."

And when Katniss and Peeta finally joined them, within a couple hours of each other, Annie and Finnick had already started their new life. In their own little segment of heaven, that tied on to Johanna's, and Haymitch's, and Prim's, and Lucy Gray's, and Sejanus's, was already inhabited by Mags, who greeted them with warm hugs and hot chocolate ready and waiting.

Annie had never seen Mags so young, with curly brown hair and warm brown eyes that had remained the same throughout the years, and it took her a minute to recognise her. But Mags had already helped create the landscape - a beautiful beach that lead onto a meadow, with a sweet little cottage tucked in. The cottage was perfectly sized for the three of them, full of soft furnishings and sweet decor that had been mimicked from their actual lives. Finnick's shell strings from his sister's were hung up in the living room, Caspian's childhood drawings hung up on a fridge alongside Naia's and Talassa's. Even some that Annie didn't recognise - with a small little F.O in the corner that Mags looked at fondly.

And sat on the golden sand, with Finnick's head in her lap, watching the waves lap lazily at their toes, Annie waited patiently for Caspian to join them.

#the hunger games #the hunger games fanfic #finnick odair #annie cresta #odesta #afterlife #mags flanagan #haymitch abernathy #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #primrose everdeen #sejanus plinth #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #snow got beaten up by everyone in the afterlife im telling you now

[holdmytesseract]

A Touch of Destiny?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Request:

"hi dear

I love Daryl!! Super nice to see your requests are open again 😻

What about an angsty but fluff-ending story where yn is one of Negan's wifes and got send to entertain Daryl since he feigned loyalty to Negan (who believed it was real). They met more often and fell in love what leads to yn helping Daryl to escape and leaves with him?

Thanks 🙏🏻" - Requested by a nonny! 😄

Summary: When Negan asks you - one of his wives, to entertain the newest member of the Saviors, you expected a lot to happen... But certainly not to fall in love...

Set in Season 7!

Warnings: usual TWD stuff, bit angsty, fluff, swear words, Negan? (Once again, apologies to all the Negan fans! 🙈)

Word Count: 3,1k (Whoopsies...)

a/n: That was really challenging and interesting to write! 🤔 I have no idea, if this is a good oneshot or not... 🙈 Thanks for the request, nonny! I hope you like it - and I hope I got Negan right! ☺️

Tagging: @fictive-sl0th @in-this-minute @hotgirlsshareaccounts @fuseburner @goobysgoobers @thefemininemystiquee @alexreadz07 @azanoni @lokisgoodgirl

MASTERLIST

"And now look at him." Negan finished his little 'fairy-tale' story about Dwight and his family with a signature smile. "Pow!" He exclaimed. "One of my top guys. And we are totally cool." Negan exchanged a look with the blonde-haired man. "The point being, I think you can be that guy." His gaze travelled back to Daryl, "I think you are ready to be that guy." who stood like frozen to the ground beside them, dressed in those baggy, filthy sweatpants and sweater. A thin stripe of dried blood grazed his philtrum; long shaggy strands of brown, greasy hair was covering his eyes. "You look around here." The man with black hair said, gesturing around the 'fancy' room with Lucille. "This? Well... it can all be yours." Negan said with a smile, wetting his bottom lip. "All you got to do is answer one simple question." The man took a step closer. "Who are you?" Daryl answered nothing, just stared straight ahead, not moving an inch. Negan chuckled. "What, does the cat got your tongue?" He questioned, "You're just overwhelmed by the awesomeness of this?" and gestured around the room once again, "I'm gonna ask you one more time." before taking another threatening step closer. "Who are you?" A thousand thoughts were running through the archer's mind in this very moment at lighting speed. The answer to this question was simple, yet it was as twice as important. Probably the most important question he had ever answered. The answer to it was quite easy as well. Daryl... He was Daryl - and those Savior pricks wouldn't ever change that, no matter how hard they tried to break him. No matter what hell they are going to break loose over him. He was a hairsbreadth away from answering exactly that - but he stopped himself. What if... What if he would say Negan? What if he could help his people in that way, pretending to be a Savior? He would never do this just to have a better life, oh no... If he would do it, then for his family back in Alexandria and Hilltop. So, he did it - without thinking twice.

"Negan."

The surprise on the man's face himself and Dwight was clearly visible. Apparently, they didn't expect him to say that at all. Negan was, of course, the first of them to 'recover', breaking out in a laugh. "Oh you've got to be shitting me! Dwighty-Boy can you believe that?!" The leader looked over to his 'best man', shocked. Dwight just stared at him, quite a bit flabbergasted. "We lock you into a tiny cell, butt naked, give you dog food and a lovely song to wake up to - and you don't give a fuck!" He exclaimed, before laughing once again. "We show you a damn room with a bed, TV and kitchen counter, and you literally get a hard one? Suddenly taking the bait?" Once again Negan laughed. "Damn... If I would've known that this was all it would take, I would've shown you right away!" The man bridged the last distance between himself and his new recruit, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Well, Daryl... Welcome to your new home."

You were seated at the bar in the way too big room; the nth glass of Whiskey in your hands. With every passing day you regretted your decision more of becoming one of Negan's wives. But what were you supposed to do? You had no choice. You were alone in this big, ugly, rotten world. It had been do or die - and you certainly weren't ready to die yet, even if there was nothing much left worth living for.

Taking another sip of your Whiskey, you suddenly felt a presence behind you - and you knew exactly who it was; causing a shiver to run down your spine. "Y/N, my pretty, extraordinarily hot wife... Please excuse the shit out of my goddamn French but fucking hell do you look hot today in that dress." You internally rolled your eyes. You hated, when he called you that, but nevertheless you put on your mask, turned on the bar stool to face him with a smile. You knew that when he approached you like that, he wanted something from you. "Negan, hey. What can I do for you?" He smiled that smug smile of his, wrapping an arm around your red mini dress clad waist. "There's something I want you to do for me..." You knew it. It was always the same. "And what would that be?" "Well, we took a prisoner a few weeks back... He got a special treatment by our Dwighty-Boy here and now he claimed loyalty to us. He's a Savior now... Belongs to the crew." You knew what this 'special treatment' meant as well - and you didn't like it one bit. You were in the Sanctuary long enough to see through Negan's... methods. "I want you to reward him for it. Tonight. Entertain him. Watch a movie with him, play a card game or chess, have a drink, give him a blowjob or even screw him - whatever he wants, I don't care. Just give him the night of his life. If someone can do that, then it's you." You frowned, were slightly confused by his request. Usually, he didn't let another man 'play' with his wives... And if he did, then it was one of his right-hand men, like Dwight or Simon. Not a 'newbie'... Negan seemed to notice your confusion. The man started to chuckle, giving you a wink. "I am in an awesome mood this evening, so I am opening up the pussy bar." You would've loved to slap him in the face at those words - but you didn't. Instead, you smiled again and nodded. "Alright. Name and room number?" Negan grinned. "55, Daryl."

You took a deep breath, when you came to stand in front of the stranger's room. You didn't like this - at all. But what choice did you have? You just hoped, that this Daryl wasn't a douchebag and treated you at least halfway respectfully. Not like some other men around here; objectifying you and only interacting with you, because they were lusting after you, due to the simple fact that you were a woman and therefore fuckable.

With another deep breath, you knocked, praying that this evening wouldn't end in a disaster for you. Please be not a cringy, old pervert. You thought, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. Please be not a cringy, old pervert. Please be not- Your mantra got interrupted by the creaking of the door, which sprung cautiously open. A pair of greyish blue eyes appeared first in the crack, before the door got opened completely, after those mesmerising eyes scanned your frame; probably checking if you were a threat. You could only imagine, what Negan put him through... What your eyes then saw, as they landed on the figure, standing in the door frame was something you didn't expect at all. The man, who must be Daryl was definitely not a cringy, old pervert. Rather the complete opposite... A shy, hot stranger in his thirties - you guessed. You swallowed hard, overwhelmed by Daryl's dashing appearance. And you just couldn't help it... You couldn't suppress the urge to check him out - so you stared, eyes travelling over his body.

He was tall. That was the first thing you noticed. Probably not as tall as Negan, but not small either. A blonde-brown, slightly greyish beard adorned his face. Although, the stubble was rather centred around his upper lip and chin. Framed was his defined and handsome face by brown, shaggy hair, which fell in soft waves shortly over his shoulders. Speaking of shoulders... Daryl's shoulders were broad. His upper body in general seemed to be very strong and bulky underneath that dark blue shirt he wore. A few buttons were undone, giving you a glimpse of some fine, silky chest hairs peeking out of the opened shirt. Strong, muscular thighs and legs were confined in a pair of jeans. Once again you swallowed, desperately trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. Your eyes met his again, and you could see in them confusion. After all, neither of you spoke a word yet - until Daryl decided to break the silence. "Who are ya and whaddaya want 'ere?" Gods, his gravelly voice, paired with that southern accent was turning your knees into jelly. You had to focus hard, in order to not make a complete fool out of yourself. "H-Hi, I, um, I'm Y/N - one of Negan's wives. He, uh, he sent me to entertain you." The man opposite you frowned. "Entertain me?" You nodded, biting nervously your lip. "Y-Yes. As a, um, reward for showing loyalty to us."

Daryl was sceptical, to say the least and quite a bit overwhelmed by the occurrence of this sudden situation. He actually preferred to stay alone, was not here to make friends after all. This was the enemy. And not just that... You were a woman. He certainly wasn't very talented when speaking with women. Words didn't come easy to him in general and a female being made it even more difficult. In summary, everything spoke against letting you enter his room. He wanted to just decline and close the door back shut - but something stopped him. A tingling feeling deep inside his stomach, he couldn't put a finger on. When he looked into your innocent eyes, he couldn't say no. And besides, he was really good in reading people - and he could tell that you were only doing your job. So, he stepped aside, signalling you to come in. "Thank you." The archer closed the door behind you, and once again Daryl and you found yourselves in that awkward, unpleasant silence. Although this time, you were the one who started to speak. "I, uh, I'm sorry for kind of just barging in. This, um, must be quite a bit weird..." The man opposite you slightly shrugged his shoulders. "Ain't weird, jus' didn't expect anyone else than Negan or Dwight to look fer me." You nodded. "Yeah, sure, right." Once again, awkward silence spread between the shy and forbiddingly handsome new recruit and you. Daryl shuffled nervously with his feet, clearly overwhelmed with the sudden presence of such a gorgeous woman. You quickly realised, that you needed to take the initiative, because Daryl wouldn't do it - which was completely okay for you. Shaking your head, smiling, before you looked him in the eyes once again. "Sorry. Let's just start over... I'm Y/N." The archer blinked at first and just stared a few seconds at you, but then the corners of his lips twitched into a small smile. "Daryl."

This was the first time you met the mysterious, shy and kind of withdrawn man. You couldn't deny, that you were immediately drawn in by his interesting personality - and his insanely good looks. That evening continued to be a bit... awkward, given the situation you and him were in. But nevertheless, you wouldn't say it was a wasted night - or even bad. No, not at all. You spent the night, talking. Yes, he didn't talk much at the beginning, but at some point you managed to coax him out of his shell a bit. Daryl tried his best to not make a wrong step. After all, he had a role to play and didn't know if he could trust you yet. You were one of Negan's wives... But just if fate wanted it, you came to meet Daryl more often. Sometimes sent by Negan; sometimes just crossing his path. The chemistry between you and the archer was close to perfection. A match made in heaven. You got along with Daryl so very well. He shared your opinions, your thoughts. At some point, you started to just sneak out, only to end up in room number 55. You treasured the friendship you had built up with him and so slowly, he became the centre of your life; the reason for you to smile.

The weeks flew by quickly and you and the archer grew closer and closer. Gaining Daryl's trust wasn't easy, but he felt so utterly warm and accepted in your presence, that he felt like he could trust you blindly. You were, without a doubt, his reason to smile. And what was this strange, fluttery feeling inside of his stomach, whenever he looked at you?

Unlike Daryl, you soon realised, that you had developed a huge crush on him - and well... It came how it had to come... You fell for him. Hard - and you regretted it not one bit. Yes, you were Negan's wife, but you never even harboured a trace of feelings for him. You were with him, because you had to. Did Negan love you? You doubted it. All you were for him, was a hot sex toy. Nothing more. Just another puppet on his strings. You weren't sure, if Daryl felt the same about you. You hoped he did. But all your doubts got washed away, as it suddenly happened...

It had been one of those nights, in which you had sneaked out and landed, of course, straight in Daryl's room. Talking, laughing and sipping on a glass Whiskey. Those nights were the best. So, it was no wonder, that you were slightly tipsy at the end.

"I suppose, I should go now... Sure, Negan's with Sherry tonight, but you'll never know... Wouldn't want him to discover our secret meetings." Daryl nodded, feeling a pang in his heart at your words. "'Course. Ain't want him to find out either." Sighing, you stood up, just like Daryl. You wanted to head for the door, but your foot got caught around one foot of the small table. Paired with the slight intoxication of the alcohol, coursing through your veins, which ensured that your sense of balance wasn't at its best, you stumbled and fell - of course, straight into Daryl's arms. He caught you. It was so clichéd; almost like in the movies. Your palms landed on his chest; his hands on your waist. The moment you realised in which position you were, your cheeks turned in a dark shade of red. Of course, you had been close to Daryl... But never this close. "O-Oh gods, I-I'm so sorry! I'm s-so clumsy, I-" You didn't get any further. Daryl interrupted you - in a way you never expected. He dipped his head, inched closer to your face, and suddenly were his chapped but utterly gentle lips on yours. Your eyes widened, as your brain caught up on what was happening. Could this be real? Could this be true? Your heart almost exploded inside your chest from all the happiness and love you suddenly felt. What caused him to be so brave all of a sudden and making such a 'bold' move? Perhaps it was the alcohol. Well, whatever it was, you didn't care. All you cared about was, that this was happening. You were so overwhelmed - in the best way possible, that you literally froze in place. Daryl noticed immediately that you didn't kiss him back - and being the insecure person he was, he started to pull back on an instant; afraid that he might have made a mistake. But to his sheer relief, you didn't let him pull away. Instead, you grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt and pulled him even closer, slamming your lips back onto his.

From that day on, you spent even more time with Daryl. As much as you somehow could, without arising suspicion. Another few days - weeks, passed, in which you had been the happiest person, after the world ended. You could tell that Daryl was happy, too, but you found him often huddled in a corner, thinking. He was on a mission here, sure, but he also missed his family. He had to help them above all. They had to get their old life back. So, the archer made a decision…

You looked at him, blinking; shocked. "You... You want to leave?" Daryl nodded, chewing his lip. "Have to. Ya know that, Y/N. I gotta help 'em. I know the Sanctuary now. I know how things work 'ere... They need me..." You swallowed hard, but nodded as well. You knew. Gods, of course you knew... And who were you to stop him? It wouldn't be fair. "I'll help you escape." The man gave you a small smile. "Thank you, but... 'M not leavin' without ya." Your eyes widened at his words, "Daryl... I... This is..." before you sighed. "I-I can't leave... Negan's going to notice. He'll know - and he is going to hunt me down. I would put you in danger - and I don't want this. I would never forgive myself, if something happened to you because of me..." Daryl was quick to reach for your hand, taking it into his. "Y/N... Nothin' is goin' to happen ta me or you... Sure, that prick will notice and 'm certain he hunts us down, but... He won't find us. We can hide, until we and the others come up with a plan to defeat 'em. 'Sides, I ain't let somethin' happen to ya. 'M gonna keep ya safe, I promise." He squeezed your hand in order to underline his words. "Y-You really think so?" The man nodded. "Yes. Whatever happens, I ain't gonna leave ya." You smiled at him and quickly jumped to hug him; wrapping both your arms around his neck.

Planning your escape was easy. Putting your plan into action wasn't. You had to sneak out at night, passing several guards and of course the barricade, made out of walkers, but together you and Daryl made it; working perfectly as a team. Sure, there were a few close calls, but in the end, you managed to escape. Stealing one of the bikes, Daryl swung his leg over the vehicle, with you following close behind. "C'mon. Hurry." You quickly hopped onto the bike as well. "Hold on ta me." You nodded - more to yourself than to Daryl, 'cause he wasn't able to see it. You wrapped your arms tightly around his strong torso, holding on for dear life. Daryl started the engine and drove off, leaving the Sanctuary behind. You buried your face in between his shoulder blades, not daring to look back. You were, without a doubt glad that Daryl literally rescued you out of the life you lived in the Sanctuary.

The wind brushed through your hair, as you drove on the back of the bike, clinging to your 'knight in shining armour', hopefully into a new and better life. Sure, you had to find a way to defeat the Saviors first, but after that... The possibilities were endless.

#daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fic #twd fanfic #twd #twd season 7

[hphm-jeniferltheman]

No Surprise

[Spoiler and Long Explanation Ahead]

a bit of spoiler cause i'm still in year 5 of the game and i have a lot i wanted to draw before this event

I listen to this song in repeat while making this maybe you should too? (also the reference of the title)

In Year 6, after the death of their best friend, Ben and Jeniferl decided that it is best to break up for the meantime.

Ben believed that despite being together, he had failed to protect her and the people she cares about. The death of Rowan shows that he is still incapable to protect the others, despite his attempts to change. He felt worthless and believed that only a strong, courageous person could be with Jeniferl that can keep her safe... unlike him. He will keep changing, even if it makes him the worst version of himself, until he has proved to himself that he is capable of becoming that person.

Jeniferl on the other hand, didn't want more people to die because of her. She once again blamed herself from all misfortune and believed that the more she is attached to someone, the closer death will come to them. After the death of her best friend, she fears Ben will be next therefore she wants to maintain her distance and, to the best of her ability, suppress her emotions in order to concentrate on breaking the family curse and the curse vault. If she kept bringing ill fortune, she believed she didn't deserve to be loved.

The breakup left a bitter taste in their relationship. They told one another that  they could do anything they wanted regardless of what the other think, but their relationship is over.

On the day of the Masquerade ball

It was surprising how Jeniferl was on the ball despite all the tragedy that happened to her; it was Barnaby’s idea for her to go. Jeniferl and Barnaby are like siblings to one another, for they share the same interest in magical creatures and dueling. Feeling bad about what happened to her, he invited Jeniferl to a dance at the ball in an attempt to cheer her up, which she appreciated and agreed with. But what’s more surprising is what they saw in the Ball, 

Ben and Ismelda were dancing together. 

Everyone was startled that the two were together, but Jeniferl repress her emotions and smiled at them as they danced elegantly in the night. As promised, Barnaby and Jeniferl performed their dance as friends, but someone is watching them closely. It was Ben. Even though he presents a cold and disinterested demeanor around her, he is nonetheless troubled. In actuality, he only attended the event because of her presence. He wasn't supposed to go because he didn't see the point in going and would rather train to get stronger instead. But Ismelda came and informed him how Barnaby would be going with Jeniferl. He requested Ismelda's company in order to verify whether it was real. Upon realizing it to be true, he was reminded of their breakup and understood that there was nothing he could do.

The night may be beautiful, but no surprise, two hearts are left in sorrow once again.

✧✨✧

First I wanna say sorry for my poor writing and grammar skills I just want to finish this so that i can focus on my uni,,

and second, YES, the two broke up after 3 years of flirting and a year of dating ,,how unlucky but thats just the life of Jeniferl. I already planned this ahead before the spoiler TLSQ happen but, I hate to admit it, this tlsq benefit the story and I'm sorryy I added more pain in my story(I'm gonna add more tho).

No hate to Ben and Ismelda shippers, I love Ismelda's character and i just thought her being with ben is an out of character but i become more curious . Also I chose Barnaby because he is the one i chose to be partnered with my mc in the game but in my story, Barnaby doesn't have romantic feelings towards Jeni

But the TLSQ haven't released yet so there might be changes added in the story but who knows, I hate it but I'm excited for this tlsq~ also i kinda didn't follow the color dress code sryy

✧✨✧

#hphm #jeniferl theman #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery fanart #hphm oc #hphm fanart #ben copper #ismelda murk #barnaby lee #i cant believe I'm adding this but I will #ben x ismelda #hphm ben #hphm ismelda #hphm barnaby #masquerade ball #hphm tlsq #hphm spoilers

[cupidjyu]

kiss me under the mistletoe!

(hyung line) what happens when there’s a mistletoe above the both of you

genre: this is literally so cliche, fluff, kissing ofc, shyness notes: so this was my christmas idea!!! btw, if you don’t already know, the tradition is that when there’s a mistletoe above you, you have to kiss the person that’s also under it. i just thought the idea was really cute and i hope you like it! its the first day of December!!!! also, if u don't celebrate Christmas, its totally fine :D just think of it as a great excuse to mwah mwah kiss word count: 1.1k

sangyeon

“are you busy?”

you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, bringing your body close to his chest. you were just organizing the christmas gifts, getting ready to give them to your friends and family. 

you patted one of the gifts and melted into his incredibly warm touch. 

“i just finished, why?” you answered, your back still facing him as he continued to hug you tightly.

without a word, only a mischievous chuckle, he began to shuffle the both of you to another part of the room. you made multiple confused noises as he continued to drag you in such an awkward position. the doorway was where you ended up.

finally, he let you go. you turned around, giving him a weird look.

“sangyeon, wh-”

but then he interrupted you with an oddly loud voice. 

“oh! would you look at that!” he pointed up. skeptical, you looked, and there it was. a mistletoe that was hung, hovering over both of you. it must have been recently since it wasn’t there earlier in the day.

you snorted, feeling a bit flushed. you knew very well that he had put it up himself.

“really?” you eyed him, knowingly.

“really,” he nodded, looking incredibly proud of himself.

you shrugged and then leaned forward, waiting for him to kiss you.

he giggled and brought you closer with a smile. then, he closed the distance, giving you a longer kiss than the ones you usually share, his hand gently reaching up to cup your cheek.

“you planned this didn’t you?”

he only grinned in response. you laughed as he brought you back in by the waist, kissing you once more.

jacob

“y/n?” you looked up at the sound of your name being called from another room. “i need your help with something!”

you put down the christmas lights that you were just hanging up. you walked over to the bedroom where he was supposedly, adding decorations as well.

you paused when you noticed that he’s simply standing at the doorway. 

“so, i don’t know where i should put this-”

you interrupted him with loud laughter. he stared at you startled. but he also looked so incredibly fond, since he always liked when you were happy.

“why, what happened?” he questioned, his eyes wide and innocent.

you glanced at the mistletoe hanging right above the both of you.

“jacob, my love,” you pinched his cheek. “was this your intention all along?”

he only stared at you confused. but then, he looked up and he practically jumped at the sight of it. it seems that he really didn’t know it was there. he stared back down at you, looking incredibly flustered. his cheeks and even his ears were red.

“wha- no,” he shook his head, hurriedly. “i- i didn’t even notice! i think sunwoo put it there…”

you had to hold back your giggle as you stared at him with sparkly eyes. he looked so cute.

he continued to try to explain himself, in an utter panic, rambling on and on. 

"see- because i invited him in earlier so, i think..."

so instead, you took matters in your own hands and grabbed him by the collar. you brought him down into a kiss, your hand sneaking around his neck. he let out a surprised squeak at your actions.

when you moved away, the only thing he could muster was a simple, “wow.” he looked at you, dazed and breathless. and then he pulled you back in again, a widening smile on his lips.

younghoon

“oh y/nnnnnnnn!” you could hear your boyfriend singing your name from down the hallway. 

you were currently getting ready for a party, all dressed up and ready to go. you were just about to add your finishing touches when younghoon practically burst into the room, looking incredibly excited and mischievous. 

“hm?” you looked at him. he had one hand hidden behind his back. 

he smiled, cutely. “look.” he brought his hand out, and there was a mistletoe held in his hand. he stepped closer, and with his tall height, he easily brought it up over you.

you paused, only staring at him with unfazed eyes.

“really? right now?” you eyed him skeptically.

he looked at you firmly, “yes.”

“but-”

“you look lovely tonight,” he dropped the mistletoe on the ground. instead, he chose to wrap his arms around you, swaying you slowly side to side and you couldn’t help but melt into his touch, the christmas music in the background only adding to the atmosphere. 

“could’ve just asked for a kiss,” you grumbled. but you could feel your face start to warm at his blunt compliment and his cheesy way to ask for a kiss.

“no,” he pecked your cheek. “this is more fun,” he whispered. 

and then he leaned down, bringing your lips to his. your heart felt like it would explode as he placed his hand gently on your hip, still swaying.

hyunjae

“y/n.”

you were busy, setting up all the plates and cups for the grand dinner that the two of you had planned with each of your friends. it was all coming together, the multiple pops of Christmas colors on the table sparkling like a diamond. 

you turned around and marveled at how he was dressed, a simple dress shirt accentuating his shoulders.

you see his arm move in the corner of your eye and suddenly there’s a shadow blocking the light on the ceiling. a mistletoe. he’s holding up a mistletoe.

you huffed, feeling your ears warm up as you immediately avoided eye contact with him.

“no…” you complained. “hyunjae, it belongs over there-”

you try to reach up and grab it, about to put it in its rightful place. but then again, hyunjae is a tall person. you struggle and struggle to even get a slight grasp on it but he just keeps on holding it up even higher, out of your reach.

all of a sudden, you stumbled over your own feet. but of course, you were cushioned by a certain man’s chest, your arms instinctively wounding around him.

you stayed there frozen, feeling even hotter than before.

you cleared your throat, trying to back away.

“sorry-” but you were stopped because you felt a hand on the small of your back. you looked up shyly.

“hey there,” he smiled, his eyes twinkling as he craned his neck to look down at you.

you couldn’t even get a word in because he immediately threw the mistletoe behind him and brought you closer, against his chest. you let out a giggle as he leaned forward and kissed you passionately.

“you’re annoying,” you said after.

“all for you,” he cheekily smiled.

#the boyz fluff #the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz x reader #tbz fluff #sangyeon x reader #sangyeon fluff #jacob bae x reader #jacob bae fluff #younghoon x reader #younghoon fluff #hyunjae fluff #hyunjae x reader #imagines 💞

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi I'm the one who requested an angsty scenario with ror gods character and damn i know i requested it but you're the one who almost made me cry😭😭😭 btw im in school that is why i tried to stop my tears you are such a good writer!

Would it be ok if i request a part 2 where the ror gods went back from time like a manhwa? Like at first they were confuse until they saw the reader face who looks indifferent but since they knew the truth they know that she is just worried.

When the reader was about to speak they immediately hug them and cry or its up to you how they react in that situation. This time they court her properly and they make sure that the reader will fall in love to them in order to have a happy ending.

Could you also add a scene where they were being tease by their relative or friends or the reader thought that they were imposter and ended up shoving a cross in their face and start praying🤣

My sweet, precious darling, I didn’t mean to make you cry at school of all places, I just wrote with what felt right to this scenario, but I’m pleased as apple pie that you loved it! I got you on a happy ending for this HC!

-It had been two months since your death, two months since your widowed husband had been mourning your tragic death.

-That woman that you thought he was having an affair with tried to waltz into his life, only a week after he buried you, trying to butter him up so he would marry her instead.

-That didn’t end well for her.

-The love and respect he showed for you was nothing like how it had been when you were married, something he wished he could have taken back.

-He believed he would never be able to find another woman like you, never in his life. None could replace the void you left in his heart.

-A chance came to him, from his family, who had a simply wrapped box delivered, one that came with a letter with instructions as well as a warning, ‘Don’t ask how I got this, but you can only use this once. If you fail, then it is on you. Wear this to bed tonight and speak nothing about this to anyone.’

-When he opened the box, he found inside was a simple amulet necklace with a rainbow opal in the center, the colors swirling as if it was alive.

-His eyes widened, knowing this amulet, it was a powerful magical artifact, one that could turn back time.

-He wasted no time, despite it being the middle of the day, and ran to his bedroom, putting the amulet on and read the instructions, to think about ‘when’ he wanted to return to.

-When he awoke, he started slightly, looking around to see nothing really out of place, other than the belongings he had brought to his rooms, your belongings, were gone, back in their place with you.

-He was quick to dress and rush out, ignoring the servants as he looked around for you as he thought about where he was, ‘If this worked, it should only be about three months after our wedding.’

-He heard laughter and followed the sound, seeing a group of children taking turns holding your hands, dragging you around the garden, a gentle smile on your face.

-He leaned heavily against the door frame leading into the garden, his whole body sagging with relief, seeing you there, seeing you alive.

-His hand lifted to his heart, elation filling him as he made the silent vow to himself that he was going to love you the way you should be loved and do everything in his power to make you happy.

-He followed after you and the children, remaining back and the children were giggling, seeing that he almost seemed shy, not wanting to approach, fine with watching from a distance.

-You were a bit confused by his actions, curious as to why he was following you and the children, as he remained too far back to speak properly with him

-Once in a larger field in the gardens the children ran off to play tag while you remained under the gazebo, watching over them.

-It was only then (God) approached you, saying your name with such softness that it nearly made you leap out of your skin.

-You turned, bowing politely to him but (God) stunned you, cupping your face gently with one hand, guiding your eyes to meet his own and you were stunned, seeing such a gentle smile on his face and fondness in his eyes that almost looked like tears.

-He could tell you were uneasy, looking a bit freaked out in all honesty, but his sudden change of attitude before he took your hand, pecking the back of it gently, “Forgive me, Y/N. I have been a neglectful husband to you. I swear that I will do whatever I can to make you happy to stand by my side.”

-You were freaking out a bit more, looking to the sides, wondering if you were being pranked before your eyes narrowed in distrust, “Are you really my husband?”

-His booming laughter surprised you as he leaned back, his fondness for you growing, sweeping you into his arms, dancing with you using only the music in his heart, “I am, I know I haven’t been the best husband to you. I now see that you’re just like me, you’ve built a wall to protect yourself from others. You have a kind and gentle heart, Y/N, one that is scared of being hurt again. I want to protect you now; I want to protect that precious heart.”

-His words quickly had you running through a range of emotions, stunned that he knew you had a wall built around you, that you were afraid of being hurt again, before you were blushing bright red, embarrassed by his passionate words, which made him smile down at you.

-The children were peeking from around a bush, watching the two of you dance.

-As the dance stopped, (God) bent over and pecked your cheek, making you squeak before instantly you heard the children, “Ooooh~~~~” you flushed bright red, hearing their teasing as they had been watching while (God) laughed softly as you turned, hiding your red face behind your hands.

-True to his word, almost like he was a changed man, turned into the best husband he could be, escorting you everywhere, giving you soft affections and simple but meaningful gifts, as he knew you liked those better than the extravagant ones.

-He fiercely defending you against those who didn’t know you, those who thought you were an icy bitch, demanding to know why they believed the rumors about you without actually knowing the real you, calling them out on their cruelty and hypocrisy.

-When that woman came around, he refused to let her even enter the grounds of his home, “I have a wife, one that I care for deeply, I have no need for you!”

-You were stunned by everything he had been doing for you, your own image growing beside him, as more people got to know the real you.

-The day he announced to you that he had collected proof on the crimes of your uncle, enough to bring him to justice, you broke down in harsh sobs, relieved.

-Your tears actually delayed him, as he doted on you, tending to his wife, trying to calm you down and assure you that he was going to be all right.

-You testified against your uncle, showing the scars from the beatings he had given to you, something that infuriated your husband even more so, and with all the evidence, your uncle was executed and buried without a single person attending his funeral.

-You had never felt so happy in your life, except for when your parents were still alive, (God) made you feel so loved, so happy. You had admired him for his power and command, but having his gentle love, just for you, was something so different, so special.

-On his birthday, long before his family and friends would arrive, you gave him the gift you had been preparing for him for a while now.

-Poseidon- Seeing the same brooch brought a warm smile to his face, lapis lazuli stones, bright metal, and black pearls, knowing that your feelings were indeed true for him. He immediately turned to his servant, “Find me a new outfit that will go with this!” you stammered a bit bashfully, holding your cheeks as he was going to wear it tonight before he instantly swept you into his arms, kissing you softly. Your eyes went a bit hazy from his passion before he pulled away, brushing your hair behind your ear, a smile on his face before he embraced you tightly. You didn’t know that he would have loved your gift so much, a smile coming to your lips as you hugged him back, a smile on your lips as he squeezed you gently, ‘I’m so glad I have you in my arms again.’

-Thor- He smiled softly, seeing the intricate pendant and necklace, one that had once brought him so many tears, now making his heart swell with warmth and love. He instantly had you swept into his arms, making you squeal lightly, your arms around his neck, “Thor?!” he fell back onto his bed with you still held tightly, allowing you to sit up, looking down at him, a blush on your cheeks but you couldn’t help but smile, seeing him so happy, “I didn’t know you like necklaces so much.” He cupped your cheek gently, making your eyes meet his again, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “No- it’s because you gave it to me.” your whole head turned red at this words, turning from him, holding your cheeks which made him grin as he sat up, holding you to him.

-Hercules- You were a little embarrassed by your gift, something you had made a while ago, something you wanted to give him with the hopes of him having a child with a woman he loved, but you made this before he started to dote on you, and by the time you thought about a gift, it was too late to get something prepared for him. He handed him the box, the box he knew well and he did his best to keep his hands from shaking as he opened it, seeing a handmade lion plush that looked just like him. He looked up at you, his eyes wide in awe, trying to hide his elation that the gift was the same before he immediately embraced you, “Yes! Let’s have as many as possible!!” you squealed by his affections and words, blushing bright red as he was easily able to understand what it actually was. His enthusiasm did throw you off, being so happy with the idea of having children with you, although you were a little against ‘as many as possible’, but you said nothing, not wanting to rain on his parade at the moment, leaning into his embrace.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror poseidon #ror thor #ror heracles

[countessqin]

Can we pretend that starskiffs in the night sky are like shooting stars?

Character: Jing Yuan x fem!reader

[TW]: mentions of death and blood, angst

[Author Notes]: My apologies for angst and a bit of cliché, but I just got such idea and decided to write it and share with you. If you don't want angst, you can read until "○●○●○" line, if you want angst, then you are welcome to read whole thing. My apologies, if there are any mistakes, typos and if story lost any sense at some point! Oh and I decided to stick to {Name}, instead Y/n because it just happened. Thank you for reading!

PS. Again, my apologies if story lost any sense, I wanted to write it for week but I'm busy with exam preparations...

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Small intro:

- Name : {Name}

- Age : ???

- Occupation : the advisor of the Luofu region

- Status : ???

- Path : The Hunt

- Element : [which you like]

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

It was a sunny day, so Jing Yuan and Yanqing were playing chess outside. Young boy was thinking about his next move, while the general was looking at the bird that sat on his shoulder.

- General, - Yanqing said. Jing Yuan looked at boy, and blonde male continued, - I want to ask a question.

Jing Yuan warmly smiled, - Sure, ask away.

- Soldiers from my division said the there will be a meteorite rain, which is quite rare, something like 500+ years between them and pretty fast event, and one said that his family has a tradition to make wish, while star is falling,- boy said while uncertainly looking at the general,- General, i-if, you had once chance, what would you wish for?

Jing Yuan remained silent. It was a bit silly question from youngster but it brought a distant memory.

"Oh Jing Yuan, c'mon, we will miss it if you will be so slow!",- female voice said

Jing Yuan looked before him. Young lady with h/c hair done in simple hairstyle, in f/c dress was standing in front of him with his lion beside her.

"Aya, how did you become a general, if you are so slow?",- she jokingly said.

"My apologies advisor [Name] but you know, paperwork hates waiting, and it tends to become a problem if it is not done,- Jing Yuan said while approaching female,- but now I'm done, lets go,- he opened the door,- ladies first,- he said with warm smile.

"Oh no we missed it!,- [Name] said while sighing, -it's such a rare event any we didn't catch it."

Even though people of the Xianzhou Alliance are blessed with long-life, to see meteor rain or shower is to be truly lucky.

General looked at his companion who stood there with bitter smile on her face, while patting lions head.

"[Name] I-I am truly sorry,- Jing Yuan said while taking [Name]'s hands in his,-it's my fault I left so much paperwork with deadline tomorrow for today, I-" ,- he looked at his lover. Her e/c eyes looked at his golden ones:

- *sigh* i-it's okay, we will have another opportunity, - she said. Then as if being striked by lightning she said out of nowhere, - hey I got an idea.

The h/c female sat on the grass at patted the place beside her. Snowmoon or better to say Mimi lied down behind [Name] so she could lay her back on it. Jing Yuan sat next to his lover.

- Look,- e/c girl said,- lets pretend that starskiffs in the night sky are like shooting stars, aren't they similar?

[Name] pointed at the nights sky, and Jing Yuan looked at it. Of course starskiffs aren't exactly stars, but ones in the distance did look like ones.

- Lets make a wish,- [Name] said folding her arms to pray. "I hope Jing Yuan will have a happy life, and won't overwork himself."

The general smiled and looked at h/c girl. Her peaceful face was concentrated on making wish, she was kindly smiling. After that he imitated [Name] at also made wish. "I want to be with [Name] until the rest of our lives"

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

The sun was setting, but the battle wasn't stopping. The Xianzhou Alliance was fighting the Abominations of the Abundance which wanted to take over and end the peaceful life of Xianzhou.

Jing Yuan was leading army of Luofu to protect borders of the region. The battle was serious with many casualties on the both sides. With the guidance of The Hunt and help of Advisors the Xianzhou were getting closer to victory. Everything was going according to the divinations and advisor's strategies until

- JING YUAN, WATCH OUT!,- the General heard the familiar, dear to him voice, and the next second his dear fall right into his arms. The next second people who did it were lying dead, by the will of Thunder Lord and his Master.

Turns out there were rebels or better say agents of the Abundance who wanted to end lives of 7 generals-arbitors of the Xianzhou. They were hiding well but the 6 advisors of 6 regions - The Luofu, the Yaoqing, the Zhuming, the Xuling, the Yuque and the Fanghu found out about them and hurried to warn their generals until it was too late.

H/c lady, in her light armor that advisors weared during war fell into generals embrace.

"We-we found traitors at-at the Xianzhou,- she said while coughing blood,- but it was late...maybe all of 6 of us are quite incompetent for such position of an advisor... if we managed to find agents only now...". [Name] was coughing blood, while Jing Yuan carried her in bridal style to the aid center for soldiers they set before battle. All way there he was telling both to himself  and his lover that everything will be fine, she will be fine. But... it was not the case, not here.

- A-Yuan,- female said weakly. General looked at her wanting to say something but [Name] talked first,- it's okay... to die for the Xianzhou, for the Hunt... it worth it... to die to save your life... it is worth it,- she continued weakly cupping Jing Yuan's face with her arm,- you are great general...its not your fault...I-I love you...

Jing Yuan felt the tears falling from his eyes.

- I love you too... sleep well my dear...

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #qin's stories~

[devnmon]

An Almost New Day

Chapter Five: Written in My Stars

Summary: It's the morning after the Dixon's have entered the camp, but Merle can't seem to keep his mouth to himself.

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Series Masterlist | Playlist

Chapter Warnings: Merle Dixon being an asshole (i'm sorry once again), some violence if you squint, mentions of blood

wc: 3.9k

A/n: This was one of my favorite chapters to write, reader's a spitfire and doesn't take shit from any of the assholes (Merle) in camp. I looovee this chapter and hope you all do too. Happy reading!

Finally, his aches had simmered.

His eyes weren't irritated from lack of sleep, the bottoms of his feet weren't burning from being on them for too long in the day.

Daryl's body lay on the soft blankets that adorned his makeshift bed. He was resting peacefully, lost in his sleep cycle that allowed him at least 5 or 6 hours of rest, which he was enjoying for once since he'd been on the road.

That was, until he picked up his brother's voice yelling from a distance, splayed out comfortably on his cot, tucked between the blankets with warmth enveloping him.

Right now, it was truly the most comfortable he's felt since being on the road. Sure, it wasn't an actual bed, but Daryl was one for being fine with making do with what he had.

The first sound of his brother's voice pulled his body from rest, his eyes squinching just the slightest at the echoing sound in their closed state. Though, the next time he heard the voice was when he opened his eyes. The already-risen sun seeped through the net of Daryl's tent, poking his eyes as they fluttered open.

Daryl hesitated to pull himself from his very comfortable spot, since it became apparent to him that the minute he got up, it would be to fix something Merle had caused.

Once again, Daryl's been doing this for his brother his whole life.

As far as Daryl knows on the basis of family and blood, he's only been taught at since childhood that your blood are the only ones you can rely on.

Daryl pondered this aspect of himself often, admitting that he'd been questioning the only thing he's known since he was young.

His predicament was always this: would it be easy for Daryl to pull himself away from agreeing with something his brother suggested? The same thing that could do more harm than good?

At that point, he'd been considering just closing his eyes again, until he heard a different voice yelling this time. It made him focus his hearing a bit more as he tried making out who it was.

Wait. Was that... you?

Daryl shot up from his cot, as he placed his feet on the ground, pulling his jeans and shoes back on, as well as a sleeveless flannel over the undershirt he'd slept in. He paused once he was dressed, rubbing the extra sleep from his eyes, yawning as he stretched his body. Daryl waited patiently to see if those same voices would sound again. Tor the moment, it seemed quiet, so he decided to start his day with an entry in his journal.

If he didn't get his thoughts out now, they would fade from his memory before he got a chance to write them down.

Day five

Familiarized myself with the people in the group. Dunno. Things have changed. I feel.. welcome. These people.. they're different. Ain't thought about bein' around a big group of people like this in a long time.. The only person that kinda felt genuine from was a girl named y/n. These people, this group, seem decent. Nice to be surrounded by people other than Nerle for once. Don't think I wanna leave. At least not yet.

Daryl scribbled the last sentence, slightly flinching at another loud voice from the main part of camp. The sound caught him off guard, causing him to squiggle a line of pen across half of the page. He grumbled and closed the journal quickly, realizing the voice was his brother's.

Shit, he's yellin' again..

He quickly threw his journal back into his pack, tossing that under his cot, hidden by the blankets hanging over it. Daryl left the tent hurriedly, and rushed over to where the raised voices echoed from again. Daryl made it back to the main area of the camp, seeing everyone paired off with their families enjoying their first meal of the day. His eyes darted around until he found the source of yelling, over where his brother stood.

The one opposing him, also yelling, was you. Daryl wasn't sure if he was seeing this right, through half asleep eyes still. He shifted closer to the argument, hoping to settle the disagreement so the group could continue a peaceful morning.

"What's goin' on??" Daryl's voice first thing after he'd slept made it come off with more of a raspy, low tone, than usual. The difference in his voice made your eyes shoot over to his figure, eyeing his tensed shoulders in his half-sleepy state. Even when he was stood there innocently, half asleep, you thought he looked cute.

"Nothin' brother, just makin' conversation with Bambi, here."

"Much less conversation as it was a bigoted conversation.." You mumbled, trying to hide your words, but Daryl heard what you said.

"A what? What do ya mean?" Daryl stepped between the two of you, pulling you a distance apart before asking again, "Tell me what he said."

You huffed out a breath of air, frustrated that you'd honestly been pulled away before you got violent with the older dixon brother.

Though, it didn't mean you weren't ready to throw a right hook when needed.

"Merle suggested that it would be ideal for him to take over as leader of the group, since he thinks Shane is too distracted with his own problems to be in charge. Then, he proceeded to suggest a very misogynistic plan to split up our work, which I'd rather not repeat."

The words you spoke flooded Daryl's mind, growing annoyed at his brother for mouthing off and saying something he should have just kept to his damn self.

Here he was, fixing something his brother started, again.

Your arms crossed against your chest with another huff of air, eyeing merle down profoundly as you kept Daryl out of your line of vision to avoid being distracted by him in the moment.

You didn't know what it was about daryl that seemed much different than the other men at the camp, but something had been pulling your thoughts off track to think about him instead.

"Merle, we ain't been here a whole day yet, and you're messin' shit up for us already! Can't ya keep your damn remarks to yourself? We just got here, what makes ya think they want you in charge?"

"Nah, man. I knew it when I stepped in this camp yesterday that it needed a real leader, not some willy nilly police officer who's more focused on bangin' his side piece than he is the rest of us!"

"Hey! You don't know shit about Shane.." Andrea butted in, starting to get annoyed at Merle's disrespect on Shane's name.

Truth be told he wasn't your favorite person, nor was he Daryl's, by what he observed yesterday. But he was technically authority, a sheriff's deputy before the fall, and knew how to handle things in a somewhat orderly fashion. Right now, he was the best your group had, and you'd gone along this far with it, so why stop now?

"I'm just tellin' it like I see it, blondie. Don't shoot the messenger." Merle's hands raised in a mocking surrender, turning his back away from you, with Daryl turned the same way.

This was an opportunity to show Merle who he was messing with. When he said something disrespectful, you weren't going to let it slide. The palms of your hands were slick with sweat, hands clenched at your sides. You took one look at his smug face, and that was it. Before you knew it, your feet were bringing you closer to merle, one of your hands raising slightly, your hand still clenched in a fist.

As you approached swiftly, it felt as if there was nothing holding you back when it came to Merle. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of your fist pummeling into his face with a hard whack.

"Next time, just shut up." Your arm swung towards Merle's nose, the force of your punch knocking him over, toppling over onto Morales as they both fell.

Before Daryl knew what was happening, he saw your fist fly by his face, watching his brother fall backwards. Morales was the unlucky man that took the impact of the fall, landing on his back with merle's body on top of him.

Some of the members of camp who witnessed you swing a punch onto one of the new guy's faces yelled out in surprise, others with laughter. Seeing the looks on people's faces made Daryl realize that nothing violent like this had happened here before, the action of yours impacting some of the people more than others.

"What the hell- Hey!" Morales yelled out, stuck under the now unconscious man on top of him.

Daryl began panting, his heart speeding up as frustration grew and overtook his mind as he attempted to grasp onto what had just occurred. He tried to make his understanding of the situation clearer, stepping towards where his brother had landed.

Morales finally rolled merle onto the ground, his face splattered with some blood from the punch being planted onto his face.

"Shit, what the hell did you do that for?!" Daryl yelled gruffly, anger trying to take over control of his actions in the moment. Though, he knew he couldn't, on account of staying in the camp. He breathed through his nose, trying to calmly speak to you about the incident, rather than let himself get angry over it.

Maybe you had a reason to do what you did, one he didn't understand yet.

"Look Daryl, he wouldn't have stopped if I didn't do something. He would've just gone on and worn himself out. I apologize on account of he's your brother and all.. but trust me when I say he probably deserved that punch."

"The hell you know about my brother!? Not a damn thing! He ain't nobody's problem but mine! I would'a handled him!" Out of all the situations Daryl's gotten Merle out of, he didn't quite know how else he would've handled it any different.

"Right, how? By doing.. the exact same thing as me?" You waited for Daryl to answer, but only shook his head in response as you continued, "Listen, I know exactly the kind of guy Merle is, whether you want to believe it about your brother or not. He just wants to assert his dominance over us, in such an alpha-male way. I'm not going to be the one in the group that lets his shit slide, alright? Nothing personal. But if you're gonna need a knock on your ass too, get right in line."

All while you were talking, Daryl was picking up his brother, slinging him over his shoulders, listening to you intently go on about merle.

You were right of course, in all the ways Daryl knew were, but didn't quite understand enough.

Why did his brother have to go and get himself into situations like these? Ones where he literally ends up unconscious?

"Yeah, whatever." The tone of Daryl's voice suggested frustration with not just his brother, but also you in that moment. He didn't have any other emotion to express rather than anger about the whole thing, but didn't think it was the time for an outburst.

"Y/n, why'd you even let these guys into our camp if you were just gonna throw punches when they got out of line?" T-dog questioned you, somewhat perplexed at the timeline of your actions.

"Well, I know how to handle guys like Merle, clearly. I don't think there's any problem with that, is there?"

T-dog only scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh yeah? That if the next punch you throw gets you knocked on your ass? 'Cause I know ol' Merle here won't be as friendly." T-dog pointed to the man over Daryl's shoulders, standing nearby as he watched the conversation trail on.

"Well, I'll deal with that if I ever comes to it. For now, I think we're good. right, Daryl?" You turned to him, seeing a nod from his head.

"Hey, maybe you should take him somewhere he doesn't disrupt the peace in camp again, cool?" Glenn called out to Daryl, sat a few feet away from where he watched the whole thing just play out.

"Yeah, got it. Enjoy your food. Sorry 'bout him." Daryl strained as the weight of his brother dragged next to him. Jacqui walked over where Daryl was to join him in carrying the other side of merle's body.

They had made their way to the opposite side of the camp, placing Merle, still knocked out cold, against a tree before Daryl sat for the first time since rising from bed.

"Thanks, appreciate it." The corner of Daryl's mouth jutted upwards slightly, slightly content with the look of his brother's knocked out state.

"No problem, honey." Jacqui's hand patted Daryl's shoulder kindly as she continued, "We've been dealing with Ed and his loud mouth, but it's nothin' compared to your brother. Maybe he just needs some time to cool off and focus on helpin' our group out. Then it wouldn't give him a chance to get punched like he did although.."

Jacqui trailed off as she broke out in a small fit of laughter, knowing how in the right you were with your actions. Daryl let himself laugh out loud a bit as well, starting to realize his brother might have deserved that punch.

"Yeah. my brother can be like that. What would ya suggest he do to help out? I'm sure he could do somethin' useful."

"Well, I know you're going out hunting today, but he could join our group for a run into the city. We're gonna leave later in the day to scavenge supplies. It's a simple run, and Glenn knows his way around Atlanta pretty well. He could probably use the extra muscle to help bring all the supplies back. I'm sure your brother has tons of that."

"Yeah, sounds like somethin' he'd wanna do. I'll let Glenn know, thanks. Could ya do me a favor and stay here with him, while I grab some food? Need some sustenance before a hunt."

"Oh, sure, honey. Go on. I'll stay here. You just get yourself some food, okay?" Jacqui nodded to Daryl, as he walked back over to the campfire, spotting glenn in the same seat.

"Hey, Glenn, any chance you could let Merle join y'all for the run to Atlanta? Jacqui told me about it and she said it'd be a good idea for him to get started with helpin' out the camp." The smell of hot food distracted Daryl slightly as he started putting some onto his plate.

"Yeah, uh, sounds good. We could use the muscle. If he's conscious anytime soon, I'll let him know." Glenn told him, nodding in thanks and confirmation.

Daryl turned to find a place to sit and eat his food, noticing you sat on the ground with your legs crossed, nursing your reddish knuckles from the punch. He decided to sit beside you on the log, turning your head up at him with a quizzical look.

"You're sitting next to me after I just knocked your brother out with one punch? I've never met someone as confusing as you, Dixon."

"Shut up. Are ya alright? I don't see no blood on your hand, so it can't be that bad. Does it hurt?" Daryl shoveled some food into his mouth as he waited innocently for your response. Everyone else around the fire had trailed out, leaving only the two of you sat by the campfire.

You pivoted towards Daryl more, so your body was facing him.

"Is this your way of saying that I was justified in punching Merle? Cause if so..."

"Nah. Now answer me, I asked ya first."

"No, it doesn't hurt, as bad as i thought it would." You laughed slightly at the irony of the situation.

"Ya really gave him one hell of a hit. Don't think I've ever seen him get knocked out from just one punch before. Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Nah, I don't think you will." you admitted, nudging his leg with your elbow as you chuckled.

Daryl must've been feeling more indifferent about his brother every moment he was around you, because the thought of you actually punching his brother out made him laugh now, a small smile breaking out onto his face.

Some part of him wished you didn't see him laugh, but you did anyways. and he was fine with that too.

Just as Daryl finished every last piece of food on his plate, his eyes narrowed, noticing T-dog sat beside Jacqui now, over by where Merle laid up against the tree.

"Look, as much as you can knock my brother's teeth out on command, he can get real violent, real fast."

Your eyes bore into him for a moment, before you laughed a bit at the suggestion of Merle even getting as close to laying a hand on you.

"Daryl, you know, I am capable of handling myself," You spoke, the tone of your voice sounding to Daryl like you were sure of yourself in that moment, "Or are you scared he might actually hurt me?"

"I- Look. I'm tryin' to warn ya," Daryl was worried his brother might hurt you if he felt inclined enough, "Just don't piss him off before he leaves for the run, alright?" Daryl stood in front of you now, whereas you still sat on the floor with a rag up to your fist.

"I guess I can manage that. Thank god he's getting out of the camp already, I think my head would fall off if he was just... here all day after I knocked him out..." your hand raised up to him, a sign to him that asked him to pull you from the ground.

His work weathered hand reached out to grasp around your somewhat smaller one, the warmth of his palm covering your hand as he pulled you from the dirt covered campground.

Once you stood beside him, your bodies bumped into one another as you caught your balance, realizing you stood way too close to Daryl now. A stuttered 's-sorry, shit. sorry..' leaves your lips as you step back from Daryl's personal space. An awkward laugh chokes itself from the back of your throat, as you began to avidly brush the wood chips off of your jacket and pants.

Being this close to you made Daryl's heart run a hundred miles per hour. He'd been close enough to you that all he could inhale was the smell on you, something sweet, like vanilla, but he couldn't quite put his thumb on it.

Daryl chuckled again, a genuine one that came out louder than he thought it would, clearing his throat to try and play it off. Truth was, Daryl felt a rush of heat in his cheeks, and didn't want to draw any attention to it.

Dipping his head, he stepped further back from you, hearing a slight sigh escape your mouth as you became hyper aware of how many people could be watching the two of you. Daryl cleared his throat again, as he also realized this, before he spoke.

"Well, Y/n, hope ya have a good day. I gotta head out, goin' huntin'. talk to ya later?" Relief washed over you, your shoulders un-tensing and pulling another laugh from your chest.

"Yeah, you have a good one.. too, Daryl." That bright smile of yours beamed up at him again, shoving your hands down as deep into your pockets as you could to combat the embarrassment you'd still felt from being a step too close to the man.

I knew he was one of the good guys.

The awkwardness was eating you alive inside and you wished for the moment to come where you would watch daryl walk away from you, those broad shoulders and bulky arms getting smaller with the distance, so that big breath of air you inhaled as soon as he came around could finally be exhaled from your chest.

All Daryl could mutter after that was 'seeya' as he turned to walk away, his boots crunching leaves under his feet.

It seemed, the both of you let out a breath of air neither of you knew the other was holding; it only took the comfortability of a distance between you both for Daryl to bring himself back to reality.

Before he began to return to his tent, he felt a hand grasp his shoulder slightly. Turning around, he saw glenn had grabbed his attention.

"Hey, just wanted to let you know that Merle agreed to the run, and we're gonna head out in one of the trucks pretty soon, so if you wanna talk to him before we go, you should."

Daryl thought for a moment, and considered just for a slight second to speak with his brother. After all, it could be the last time he sees him. it only took a second in this world for something to go wrong, one slight smidge in their plan, and someone would get bit or ripped into by one of those geeks. He didn't wish that on his brother, never could, but Daryl didn't know if he wanted to delay his hunt any more.

No, he wanted to put some distance between him and his older brother.

Daryl squinted his eyes at Glenn before he answered, "Nah. Just keep him alive."

"I'll try my best. Keep yourself alive." Knowing Daryl was going on his hunt, nodding with confirmation of the archer's request as he walked off.

The men parted ways, Daryl making his way back to the tent he'd woke up in just about an hour ago. Maybe it had been a little more or less than that, considering he'd lost track of time after you bumped into him and stayed in what was a very close vicinity to him, enough for him to have been overtaken in your scent.

Stood in the middle of his tent now, Daryl rubbed his eyes profusely to try and clear his mind, in order to focus on his task at hand: a hunt for squirrel.

Though before he collected his belongings for the hunt, he sat down and wrote another paragraph under the first one he'd written earlier.

-Everyone's puttin' up with Merle and his attitude, barely. He thinks he should lead, mind ya, we just got to the camp. Doesn’t know what's good for him, if he ever did. Been tryin to hunt and bring back meat for the group. They deserve it. So i’ll do somethin' worthwhile for 'em. Think Merle is gonna go scavenge with a few others in the city. He told me to stay at the camp, like he doesn't know i'm better at handling the city. Might just hunt to pass time ‘fore he gets back. Been alone most days at the camp anyway. But I don't wanna be alone forever. Jus' gonna stay out here till tomorrow. I'll get more squirrel that way, too.

Tossing the journal in his pack once more, Daryl collected some other items he'd need for his hunt: an extra shirt, arrows, his larger knife, this one unlike the one sheathed at his waist, with a larger blade for his catches. Daryl also packed the rest of his food leftover from the other day, what he didn't have the stomach to scarf down that night he saved, so he could make himself dinner over the campfire later tonight.

Other than what he'd already previously had ready, Daryl grabbed his bow and headed out on a mission to hunt some squirrel.

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Next Chapter

#written in my stars ff #ryesff #devnmonwrites #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x you #daryl the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #daryl / reader #daryl dixon / you #daryl / you #twd #the walking dead #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic

[siriannatan]

Beauty and the Beast - ScfWhip

Sometimes one just needs to take a break from trying to force out ideas for other projects, this one is one of those break projects.

Hope you enjoy :}

Scott eyed up the manor he stood outside. Was staying a whole year here really going to save the town? Worth a try at least he thought as he reached for the solid metal knocker on the massive wooden door to the manor. The manor itself was pretty impressive. 

Not as scary and creepy as he imagined based on what he was told about the place. But the pointed, dark roofs topped with dark metal spikes could have made more of an impression than the white and grey walls. Dark wood shutters on the windows. Luckily not blocked with any sort of iron bars. Maybe all they saw was the tall wall surrounding the manor and its well-maintained rose garden?

He was about to knock when the door opened on its own. "Come on in," a calm, borderline cold voice invited him in. "Leave your baggage here, it'll be in your room when you get there," it added and Scott, with heavy heart followed and entered the manor. 

He was expecting a butler of some sort but was greeted by nothing. And then disembodied directions to what turned out to be a smaller dining room. Likely not the main one of the manor. Table set. Dinner for one on one side. And a matching set of 1 goblet and decorated with a dark metal decanter of a red liquid. Scott hoped it was wine.

"Have a seat," the voice said and Scott once more listened.

He didn't even have time to think if he was supposed to start or wait when a door opened and, who he could only assume to be the master of the place entered.

A man slightly shorter than Scott. Dressed in fitted, dark trousers. White shirt with billowed sleeves kept skin tight by a deep dark red vest with golden embroidery around the edges and golden buttons. Golden chain sticking out of his watch pocket. Medium-length ginger hair tied with a ribbon at the base of his skull. Face covered by a white mask adorned with black flowers and red leaves. His hands and bit of neck between the ruffle of his shirt, ket up by a black ascot and the mask. Pale, sickly, or even deathly so from the distance.

But most obvious and shocking were a pair of horns on his forehead not unlike those of a dragon. Even darker than his vest, almost black, red. And a fitting pair of wings folded over his back like a living cape. And of course, a tail. Same deep dark red scales, and visibly sharp spikes.

"No need to stand up," he said. Or so Scott guessed. As he took his seat by the goblet and decanter. Would he remove the mask? "I hope the journey through the woods wasn't too uncomfortable. I allowed myself to guess you'd be hungry."

"It's most kind..."

"Count fWhip but you can call me just fWhip. You'll have to excuse me, but the mask must stay on," he introduced himself, pushing the mask up just enough to expose his lips. As Scott would expect, pale. Too pale.

"Scott and I don't mind at all," Scott shook his head. He was curious but not foolish. He had a whole year to survive and annoy his host during their first shared... meal. Not annoying fWhip seemed like a good first step to surviving.

Starting with minding his manners like he never did before. Even while learning from his mother. Despite his family's status declining, she insisted her children know how to dine like proper nobles. This would be probably his first chance to really use that.

"I didn't expect too many elves this far from the capital," fWhip mused, sipping whatever the red stuff in his decanter was. Scott was strongly hoping it was just dark wine. 

"There are a few families in town but, indeed, more elves live closer to the capital," Scott saw no reason to deny or hide anything. Not like it was some sort of secret or mystery. And it was something to talk about.

As things were, the meal was relatively silent. Scott kept an excuse of being tired and ready. Even hid a few genuine yawns between the main and dessert—only small ones, hopefully not too rude. Dessert floating in woke him up enough to not fall asleep at the table. 

Eventually, all the plates were empty and floated away. Or were there invisible servants? Who was controlling them? Why was fWhip even living so far from civilization? Most of the day by carriage deep into the woods. Is he living here or being kept here? All questions he would not be asking.

"We stayed up late enough, I'll show you to your room," fWhip brought it up before Scott could think of a way of doing so while not being rude.

Scott politely expressed his thanks and followed the Count through the lavish and pristinely clean but low-lit corridors.

"Tomorrow after breakfast I'll give you a tour of the most important places, but you're free to explore the manor. Just keep away from any doors you find locked. If you find yourself lost call my name and I'll find you," fWhip explained what had to be the rules of the house. Scott paid close attention to his words. He had to remember these rules if he wanted to last that year. "We're here, I'll see you for breakfast then," fWhip stopped by a door finer than any door to a personal chamber Scott has ever seen.

"Thank you for the evening," Scott said with a polite bow. He'd hate to take more of fWhip's time than he intended to offer. Or to ask why he had to spend a year here. Just to offer the company? He hoped he could figure it out without openly asking. "Good night count fWhip," he said and waited.

"Good night Scott," fWhip said with a slight bow. Rightfully since he was the host. "And one more thing, please try not to leave your room after our evening meal," he added, slightly confusing Scott. 

Maybe after that time, he didn't have any means of keeping an eye on Scott? Like Scott could hear him without seeing him as he arrived? Or was there yet another mystery hiding in this manor? Scott would not like to test it this early into his stay. Or at all. So he quickly entered the room and locked the door. He assumed it'd be okay based on the ominous warning and not being told to not do it.

"I should unpack," he sighed but first took a look at the room.

It was comfier, more elegant and all that than any room Scott'd been in. Equipped with everything he might need. A desk, a mall sitting area with a low coffee table and a couple of chairs. A massive bed. A walk-in closet. There were clothes already there. Finer than anything he brought along. Not quite the styles, fabrics or colours he'd choose himself but he'd not complain. He assumed that fWhip liked those styles so it might help him last that year. And a personal bath.

After a cursory glance around the closet about he picked out some sleep clothes and went to the bath. Count fWhip was a truly powerful and rich man to offer his guests all these comforts and luxuries.

The bath was, as he was starting to expect, stocked with fragrant soaps, salts and candles. Soft and fluffy towels of any size he might desire and robes. And all the magical comforts nobility and royalty can expect. Scott decided to stop overthinking it as he looked over all the jars by the massive mirror and just got on with the bath. And he had no idea how early - or late - in the morning he had to be up and ready for breakfast.

So he started the tub so it could fill as he got ready. With his travel clothes in a clearly labelled basket. This was likely a guest suit after all. Scott practically moaned as he got into the tub. He didn't realise how bumpy the journey was until all his sore spots reminded him just now. He had other things to focus on so far.

Like the mysterious Count fWhip. What was his relation to the woman in a purple cape? Was she a friend of his or an enemy? In either case, what would she need a company for him for? So he doesn't try to escape? "Pretty comfy cage if she's got him locked up here," he sighed, eyeing up his selection of bath soaps and salts. "I just have to not annoy the count and I should be fine. Relax and be ready to apologize and come up with excuses at any moment. Grand," he sighed and relaxed in silence. But his thoughts kept wandering to fWhip. 

And who could blame him? There was a high chance he was quite handsome under that mask of his. All the dragon stuff like scales horns and all that only served to strengthen his feeling. Not that he had any plans to do anything about it. fWhip and the mystery woman's relationship was a mystery after all. Was he even at all involved in why Scott was here? He was ready for a guest to arrive so he knew someone would be coming. "I'll just have to be careful and pay attention to what he says," Scott sighed and forced the big thoughts away. He could do some mild investigating after breakfast.

Scott was ready to go to bed right after the bath but a glance at the desk had him changing his mind. He decided to write down all the rules fWhip gave him so far down. Just in case and with room for any new ones. Just to keep track of everything. After a short thought, he noted a few theories down as well. Couldn't hurt to organise his thoughts. And thinking, even if unnecessary, was something to do over the next year.

#my stuff #my stories #fanfiction #empires smp #empiresshipping #empires fwhip #empires scott #scfwhip #scwhip

[zuffer-weird-girl]

I know you're on hiatus right now and that's okay! Take all the time you need but whenever you are answering asks again I have a request.

I was curious about Chisaki and Angel taking Kaito to his first Waterpark trip. I'm just mostly wondering what the hell is Chisaki going to do in a filthy kid-infested place like that?

You just like to torment this man don't you-?

If someone ever told you years ago you would be seeing Overhaul almost throwing a tantrum about not going to some place like a petulant child you would just straight up send them to mental hospital.

But now?

It was fairly hilarious.

"Your son asked this for Christmas if you don't remember." You crossed your eyes with a smirk as your husband try to dodge the topic once again.

"We don't even make a big deal out of that holiday, Kaito will forget about it."

"Alright first-" you holded your index finger up "Say that to Pops who literally dressed himself as Santa to make Kaito happy... although I had to banish mimic since he wanted to go as Grinch right after" You holded your middle finger along "Second, our son just asked me about the Waterpark this morning. And is been four days since Christmas Kai."

He blinked before averting his eyes once again to the papers on his desk.

"Is usually crowded in this time of the year."

"Kai..." You warned as he glared back. "You promised to your son."

"I was a hit tipsy from the sake give me a break." He muttered, doing his best to just end the discussion and possibly the idea... only to see your dammed sad puppy eye look "Now that's just manipulation."

"Says the king of it." You mumbled before sighing and leaving his office with a sad aura.

That was what he thought at least.

You couldn't help but smirk at listening from a distance his pained growl with a following "Fine just get back here."

.

.

"YAY!" Kaito jumped up and down when both of you told the news. Well... more you since your husband apparently was looking like he was just called to war.

Dramatic? A bit.

"We need to buy you swim trunks and arm floats... I don't think we even have those anymore."

"No." Your son said seriously "I hate floaties. They make my arm itch."

"How do you even know that if you only been to a pool once or twice in your life?" Kai said Ina deadpan voice as his son stared back at him with a pout.

"Maybe we just call pops?" You asked out loud as Kai sighed.

"I wouldn't enjoy the idea but is only fair."

"Can we bring uncle Kurono mama?" Your son asked, usually bored (e/c) now shinning in hope.

"Absolutely not." He growled.

.

.

He watched in irritation as you guys left the car as he adjusted his mask over his face for the third time.

You were helping pops carry something he didn't know while Kurono watched over his son who was bouncing up and down on his heels while pulling your long skirt in hopes you could go faster.

Why did he had to promise this..?

"I was actually shocked for a bit." Kurono snickered when Kaito pulled you and called his grandpop to watch at the big slide over the entrance.

"About what?" He growled, petulant about following you both to keep a close eye on his family at least as pops chuckled.

"Well, for starters, bringing me along."

"My wife and son doings. Not mine." He growled once again.

"Second. You can't swin for shit."

Pops cackled at that as Kai smacked the back of his childhood friend's head.

.

.

"Filfh." He growled as he felt a shiver ran down his spine as he watched the kid and adult infested area on the table you guys finally found.

"Kaito seems to be having fun though." You smiled at the sign of Pops helping him flap his legs and arms with the floaties on the water as Kurono chilled on his chair.

"Nasty." He muttered again as you giggled at the horror evident on his face as he saw and heard a couple running out of the pool to bring their own kid to the bathroom before a accident happened.

Soon you both spotted Pops and Kaito leaving the pool and Kaito ran towards you with a big smile on his face as pops breathed in and out.

"Did you see mama?! Did you see?!" He sputtered with a toothy grin as you laughed at the happiness on his soaked face.

"Yeah I saw! You were swimming! Maybe soon you won't be needing the floaties anymore." Kai eyed you warily at the mention of his son no longer needing a safety measure.

"I think I need to sit down a bit." Pops heaved out as Kai frowned while the elder chuckled "Is fine boy, just tired, your son is a pretty energetic fella on the water."

"Only on the water?" He muttered without a hint of emotion as Kaito showed him his tongue as you helped the kid to apply sunscreen. "Brat."

"Mama can you go with me on that big slide? Please?" The boy dragged the letter e while bouncing your hand back and forth gently with his two small ones.

You looked at the certain slide before looking down at your baby again.

"I dunno honey, maybe they have a limit of heigh and it sounds a bit dangerous for you. Aren't you scared of it?"

"No! I promise if they don't let me I won't ask anymore but please go with me..." the kid managed the best begging eyes he could as you chuffed a giggled and got up.

Got from his mom the cursed puppy eyes he thought with a soft gaze as he nodded when you warned them about where you guys were going as Kaito almost dragged you to the slide.

"Aren't you going with them boy?" Pops asked while taking a sip of his drink.

"This place is filled with diseases and bacteria. They can have a shower later but I myself won't put me on risk." He said monotonously as he crossed his arms over his covered chest.

"So is not about how you don't know how to swin-"

"Enough with that before I kill you on this exact same spot." He growled with a murderous glare at the white haired man as Pops sighed.

Sometimes he thought he was on babysitting duty...

.

.

"What happened?" He asked with a tinge of worry at seeing you and Kaito coming back, his son with a defeated look while holding your hand.

"He said he didn't want to go anymore." You said before ushering your baby to go with his uncle so you could mutter to him "we got to the top and he saw a kid with their dad on it...."

He arched an eyebrow before looking over at his son whose was offered a snack by his uncle.

"I think he wanted me but also you to go. But he knows you don't like this sorta of stuff, so he told me he didn't even try to ask you because of that." You whispered while looking at your son with a sad yet understanding expression.

His gaze softened at that before sighing... he was grateful that despite his age, Kaito knew and respected his distaste of germs the best a 6 year old kid could... but seeing his son so... disappointed made his gut twist a bit.

"I.. I wish I could, but..." he trailed off as you gazed at him "Is just.. I don't know what those other people have been doing inside that water and... I really don't know how was I suppose to swin despite having the midgets pool... is probably going to be the dirtiest one."

"Hey." You caressed his arm "We get it. We truly do. Don't go blaming yourself on this now, alright?" You said with a smile as he stared at you numbly as a bit of relief consumed him at hearing his son giggling at something pops did.

"... perhaps if... I build one..." You let out a confused sound. "If we had one, a pool I mean, maybe I wouldn't see such a problem since I would be the one to take care of it."

You widened your before softening them with the love you had for this man... Chisaki wasn't perfect, but ever since you two got married he tried his best to be a better man, and when Kaito was born this became more and more evident at the many sacrifices he did for you and you guys little boy.

"I wouldn't mind." You said gently as be continued to look at the interaction of his father figure and son "But we can't just have it you know? Considering the many things to arrange, the dangerous of it and our budget." He hummed in confirmation "... and because both you and Kaito can't swin yet."

"Not you too." He growled, face playing hard as you giggled at him.

.

.

"I can't believe this." Kurono muttered in shock as Pops got his eyes out of the book at sudden noise.

"What is it?" Kurono pointed at the direction and pops watched with just as amusement.

Kaito was playing in the water and splashing at his daughter in law while laughing... while Chisaki, his germophobic and anti social heir was at sitting on a towel near the edge of the pool with a soft gaze towards the both of his wife and son. And all the three of you seemed to be talking and just... enjoying each other.

It was a bit late so it didn't had much people or much commotion as before. But it still shocked him tk see Kai so near that pool.

"I know this is cruel... but I want to so bad push him into that pool right now, just to see his reaction." Kurono muttered as Pops barked a laugh.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha villains x reader #bnha villains #chisaki family #au #kaito chisaki #is been a while since i wrote abiut THE BABY #zuffer writings

[willowser]

hi willow! first off, ily sm you deserve the world bc your prohero!touya saved me lol. secondly, i loved your cowboy!bakugou au AND on top of that sharlock once posted a cowboy touya. so if you ever could, i beg you, PLEASE gimme a no scars cowboy!touya 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️

"you gonna miss me or somethin'?"

touya is lying back beside you in the feathergrass, arms behind his head, silver belly hat pulled low over his eyes. the sun has long since been ready to set, dimming from blue to grey, orange clouds creeping into the horizon. the breeze has picked up with the evening coming in, has you shivering a little in your dress.

you look away from him, even though he can't see you struggle with the words. you always thought you would be ready for this moment; enji was a colonel until he lost his arm and despite the dark turn he and touya's relationship has taken over the last few years, it was always going to be this way. touya was always going to follow in his father's footsteps.

his company leaves tomorrow.

what you want to say is, not one bit or gonna be glad to be rid of you or don't make me laugh but—you can't. the words won't come out of your throat, thick like mud. instead you just swallow and try to clear it away, sniff as your eyes sting.

the wheat he's got in his mouth goes still, just as his jaw does. from the corner of your eye, you can see the motion of his nose, nostrils flaring, before he sighs.

"ain't like i'm comin' back in a box."

"touya," you chide, frowning down at your hands. the very idea has your chest aching and you're wounded by the sudden image of yourself and his family at a grave, much too soon to be as deep as it is. it feels like you're going to choke.

"don't be cryin' over me, girl."

you try to disguise your tears with a laugh, but it sounds just as pitiful, so you swipe the hat off his head to place on your own. his eyes open and they're brighter than you've ever seen them, burning in the low light as he watches you.

"i ain't a girl," you mumble, and when he sits up, you can't help but to smile. his jeans dust with dirt as he scoots closer to you, grinning like he does when he's up to no good—and he never is, these days. time is coming to a close, for the both of you, and he's been a little odd lately, trying to fit too much in before the sun sets.

staying out later even though he knows it worries his mama, coming home with money that couldn't have come from nowhere good, spending too much time talking to those girls at the saloon in town.

sitting too close, on cold nights like this.

when he speaks, his voice is low, just like his eyes on your face. "you think you a woman now, that it? all 'cause you turned 18?"

you nod once and jut out your chin, hoping he can't hear the heavy beat of your heart as it shifts you closer. "that's right."

touya grins and it's—in the last few years, he's grown. not as tall as his brothers, but more than you, and the curve of his jaw has sharpened, shoulders broadening out from all that he does on his father's ranch. no longer is he the same round-faced boy you're used to, that you grew up. now he smiles and he's the kind of man you can dream about.

"you ain't a woman yet," he mutters, and even though he still looks downright devilish, something changes in his eyes—hesitancy—and his cheeks redden just slightly. "but i could make you one, if y'want me to."

you splutter, reeling back from him as your stomach turns dangerously. "touya!" the sound of your surprised squeak makes him laugh, and you tug his hat off to shove it over his face, to put some distance between the two of you.

"i'm just messin', calm down." he tries to bite at your fingers when you shove him again, chuckling to himself as you look anywhere but him. the grass, the stars rolling in, the todoroki fields of wheat and how they wave in the breeze.

touya watches you, however, and even though he's smiling and shaking his head, you can't help but to notice the heaviness under his eyes. a seriousness he masks too well. you think maybe you should ask after him, why he's making such crude jokes like that when y'all have never been anything more than friends—but his neck strains and he bites at his lips and the moments slip through your fingers like sand.

try as you might, you don't catch them before they're gone to the wind.

it takes almost a full year for you to get your first letter.

the only reason you know touya hasn't been killed is because there's been no word; in the schoolhouse where you teach, you keep a keen eye on the front doors for any heavy-laden soldiers, speak to his sister often, ask if they've heard anything from him or his troop. enji still has a great deal of hold and, though he's always intimidated you, you're grateful for it; if there were anything to notify him of at all, someone would be quick to do it.

it comes on no special day, delivered straight to your hands from a man on horseback with little ceremony, and when you read that it's from private touya todoroki, 25th infantry company, you rip it open so fast that you nearly tear the thing in half.

he tells you it's taken him a long time to get settled in any one spot, with any one company, not to mention how hard it was to track down the mail service—and then he had to afford postage. he's been adamant about earning everything he has; there was nothing from his father that he wanted, no influence or money, and he admits to not ever realizing the wealth his family has. staring from scratch, he tells you, is difficult.

there's very little about it he likes. the bugle calls every hour, standing at formation in the cold early mornings, drill, guard detail, sharing barracks and pillows filled with hay. the only thing he doesn't mind is tending to his horse, watering her, and practicing battle formation. touya seems—different, in his words. a little disappointed, having chased after something so long, only for it to end up a dim shadow of what he expected.

unless he can help it, he tells you he saves every bit of money he can and that he wants to buy land as soon as his four remaining years are done, maybe even before then. there's even a small picture on the back of what he wants: a house that's too big—both in architecture and it's size on the paper—and a wide open pasture with little dots you assume are cows.

he wants you to write him as often as you can, even if you don't hear back. if he gets stationed elsewhere, your letter will find him. that's another small thing he enjoys, how dedicated the express is to delivering their mail, knowing how badly they must need it. the last thing he writes—asks—is that he wants a photo of you.

i'll send you the money, if that's what you want. i know it ain't cheap to get your picture taken. go to the bigger town down south, by the mountains. i don't want no shitty picture, i want a good one. it's the only piece of you i can have right now.

you don't wait to take any of his money. you go south and send it right away.

it's winter, three months later, when the second one comes in.

touya's angry. it's plain as day in everything he says to you, in all the bullshit he details from his days. they've moved him to the coast, to aid the artillery regiment, and he doesn't know why. it takes him much further from you, and he makes note of that twice. the sea is nice, he thinks, but there's nothing good out there for him.

only once does he mention some kind of trouble. the men he's been stationed with: touya tells you they're rats, not an honorable bone in their bodies. despite holding higher ranks—his, you notice, has changed too—they don't treat anyone with respect, nor themselves. often missing assembly because they'd been in town the evening before, visiting ladies of the night and drinking and fighting. one of his bunkmates kills a man and holds no remorse. they often brag about forcing themselves on women, widows that have lost their husbands. they're low, he tells you, not the kind of man he could ever stand to be.

he tells you he's realized a lot of things, about you. he's grateful for the photo, sends money so that you'll send another, and the distance has made him bold; if he wasn't a coward, he writes, then he would have made you his a long time ago. you'll be twenty next year and he knows that, knows that your family is trying to marry you off because it's about time for you to start a family of your own—but he asks you to wait for him.

if i gotta write a letter to your daddy myself, i will. maybe when i can get away from this end of the world and a little closer you can come to me, even for one night. i'll pay for everything if you will. i'll even marry you right there if you'll have me. fuck what your family says, if you'll have me then i'll do anything. i'll give you anything.

you decide not to tell anyone, not even fuyumi. there's another man in town your father has been speaking to, takami, you think his name is, and he's on his way to being a sheriff up north. he's a nice man, once you've spoken to on occasion, but despite his charm and good looks, he's not who you see when you lie down at night. he's not who you dream of.

if touya comes closer, you'll go. you decide that, even if it means leaving your mama behind and your schoolhouse and everything you know, you'll go.

the last letter you get is shorter than all the rest.

there's no sweet mentions of a future, no loving words of any kind. it's all flame and fury, a hatred you can't imagine on him. the life he lives, that path he's chosen: touya tells you it's the wrong one. the army is a sham, a front that gathers the trust of the innocent and spits on it. he doesn't detail anything specific, but even his handwriting is bad, like he'd been so angry that he couldn't see straight.

it leaves a bad taste in your mouth. fear, for what the next letter will hold. disappointment, that you're not running away with him so soon. a selfish part of you wonders if he even still wants you, if maybe he's found another woman wherever he is or if he's uninterested all together. you keep having dreams of the last night you sat in his pasture together, of him offering to make you a woman, if you wanted him to.

you should have said yes. you should have made love to him right there in the dirt, should have kissed him like you really wanted to, even if you were too shy to admit it.

the soldiers come the following week.

you only know because you're with fuyumi when it happens, visiting with her in her home, contemplating coming clean about the last thing touya had said to you. she deserves to know, you think, of his frustration. maybe there's even something she can do, something she can ask of her father.

both of you already know what they'll say, as they dismount their horses and adjust their hats. both of you fall to your knees, can't even hear what they're trying to tell you.

touya isn't coming home in a box. touya isn't coming home at all.

YEAH WELL — IDK WHAT THIS WAS LOL. i tried to start something so many times and this is the direction it took in every single attempt. somewhat cowboy, little more frontier-esque. i — very nearly made this its own fic, bc i had so much i wanted to say LOL but i. cannot take on another project. i cannot. SO YEAH SORRYYYYYY

but thank you so much for your kind words 🥺 you deserve the world friend !! i am so sorry this is how i repayed you LOL

#dabi drabble #touya drabble #dabi angst #touya angst #this got — long #lmao #could have been longer but i decided to cut it here #i have no excuses for this i apologize #but 👀 if you really think i can just end on sad notes likes this 👀 #👀 #dabi x reader #touya x reader #✿ willow writes #✿ ask willow #✿ thoughts: dabi/touya #✿ theme: cowboy touya

[librosamarillos]

passed down like folk songs

chapter 18: hand of the king

Maegor Targaryen x OC

Also on Ao3

chapter index

Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

He came to love and value the time he spent on Balerion’s back. It was otherworldly, a place where he felt free to think and feel with no one around to see or hear him, and plot and scheme against him. He’d make more time to fly, once all the work was done. He landed on an empty spot, big enough to fit the dread comfortably, and patted the great beast on the side in gratitude. His giant red eye gleamed, as if to show appreciation for the affectionate moment. Rowan would spoil him in affection. Once she got over any fear of the beast, she would love him, Maegor was sure of it. It pained him to think about the potential what ifs, but they plagued him. Had they been wed, had he been able to show her the world from atop the clouds, he would be doing little else. But he could not distract himself with that now, he’d keep the thoughts for the nights in his chambers. 

He could not help but let a smug smirk grace his face as he walked through the castle, seeing the looks on the people’s faces. Their eyes held awe, admiration even, but the ones that satisfied him the most were the petty lords who looked up at him with fear. Little scheming men, who thought they could perhaps weasel their way into the King’s council and inner circle, now that Aegon the Dragon was dead and rebellions broke. He always found Aenys weak, he made no secret of it, but the fact that everyone saw it was what was making their family and house such a target of these lords. They were looking for a weak spot to break in, to destroy them from the inside. But he would allow no such thing, not when his mother had spent her life to conquer this land and unite the kingdoms. He’d make a point to everyone that while Aegon the conqueror was dead, Maegor was a far bigger threat and a force to be reckoned with. He would show them he was better. 

He found his half-brother in his solar, dressed in his overly decorated tunic and robes, the ornate golden crown resting on his head. The stress seemed to have aged him a tiny bit, but that was perhaps blamed on little sleep. He was always quite fragile. Upon seeing him, Aenys lit up from his pensive slouch, face suddenly beaming. He quickly closed the distance between them, his lilac robes flowing behind him, as he closed him into an embrace. 

“Brother! I am so happy to see you back safely! You’ve done so well, I am impressed at how quickly you’ve restored things!” Aenys smiled, arms still around him. 

Maegor felt stiff and awkward, hating the physical contact, seeing it almost as beneath him. He hesitated for a few moments, but then patted him on the back, signalling that the embrace was to now cease. When he pulled away, he saw a certain sadness in the King’s eyes, despite his smile. He was only gone a week, but something had occurred.

“What is it? What has happened?” he asked, straight to the point, making the man in front of him flinch slightly.

“Alyn Stokeworth is dead. He was murdered when I sent him to Harrenhall.” Aenys admitted.

“Why in the world would you send him to Harrenhall? You were present when we were making the plans with my mother, and none involved him going on his own. I was meant to lead the charge there.” Maegor protested, annoyed at Aenys for doing anything against his mother’s wishes. She knew best, why the hell did he not listen?

“I was not intending to go against my aunt’s wisdom, brother, but Lord Alyn had insisted that he could prevent any spilled blood if he went and negotiated with the Red Harren, so I let him.” he explained, regret in his voice.

“You allowed your hand to go and negotiate with traitors? Why in the seven hells would you do that? Bloodshed is inevitable when you rule, traitors must be shown no mercy and put on display, should anyone get any more ideas. Do you think our father conquered this land by asking nicely?” he began to let the anger show in his voice.

“Father made it very clear to me the importance of diplomacy and fairness. Ever since he began preparing me to take over. What kind of King doesn’t at least hear his people out?” Aenys protested, defending his decision.

“Those people are traitors to the crown. They call us abominations because they fear our power and our dragons, they are not on our side, do you not understand? Treason such like this must be dealt with as soon as possible. You are the second King after father, you cannot allow the realm to fall apart a few moons after his death, that’s a pathetic display.” he sneered. “What did diplomacy get you? Humiliation and the death of your hand.”

Aenys nervously played with one of the many rings on his fingers. Gods, just how many rings did a person need? Everything about the man in front of him was too much and yet not enough at the same time. From the stupid ornate gold and bejewelled crown he had made, to the overly decorated tunics he chose and then the long impractical flowy robes he’d wear, he found his half-brother a caricature of a wealthy man.

“You speak no lies, brother.” Aenys finally spoke, after taking a moment to gather himself. “I’ve lost a valuable person in my council because of a bad decision.” he sighed.

Maegor wanted to laugh and ask how valuable this Lord truly was, if the first advice he had for the King had failed so miserably that it cost him his life, but he bit his tongue. This was not the time for any jests. His mother would scold him if he made the King cry.

“You’ll find another. Hopefully someone more competent.” he said, an attempt at sympathy.

“I have found someone, actually. Maegor, I’d like for you to be my hand.” he stated, the smile returning on his face. He grabbed one of Maegor’s hands with both of his. “What do you say?”

To say that Maegor was stunned would be an understatement. He had spent all his years resenting his half-brother, bitterly picking apart all his shortcomings that were being rewarded with a crown, the crown he so desperately saw as his own and now here he was, smiling despite feeling as pathetic as he was, offering him the second most powerful position in Westeros. He felt… happy, in a way. Perhaps his brother saw in him all he had lacked and understood that he was needed to keep the realm going. But any happiness he might have felt was immediately replaced by suspicion. 

Why? Surely his council had advised him against it. They took advantage of his indecisive and weak demeanour for their own best interests, surely they would not want Maegor getting in the way of that. Aenys was eager to please his council most of all, as they had all served their father, therefore he felt like he had to, in a way, prove himself to them. He did not go against them for fear of being disliked. Then there was also Alyssa, his Queen, who was also indecisive and fickle, desperate to be loved by all. She never liked Maegor, surely she would be feverishly against this decision. Would Aenys truly do such a thing that would displease them all? No, surely, there must be something else.

“Why?” he asked plainly, not bothering with any formality. “Surely both your advisors and your Queen have urged you against such a move, so why are you making it?” he asked, looking at the shorter man sternly, as if to look for any clues in his demeanour that would give him any answer he was too afraid to speak. Aenys seemed to hesitate.

“Because you’re my brother. You’ve not only proven to me, to everyone, that you are most capable of handling the situations that arose. I’ve never been a fighter, the whole realm knows, I’ll need someone who is by my side.” Aenys explained. He sighed, the words almost leaving him for a second. “When I told you I wanted us to rule together, I meant it wholeheartedly. It was not an empty promise. We are brothers, you and I, I meant it when I said I wish to mend the bond between us.” 

An olive branch. This is what it was. Perhaps out of guilt, or desperation to not fail their father’s ghost. Father. He was the one link that connected the two men. Despite both being his sons, Maegor was the only one who looked like him, and if he were to believe all he had heard, he was also the only one who took after him in strength and skill. Aenys took entirely after his mother, feeble, easily distracted, vain. That was all he could remember from his late aunt. Perhaps that’s why their father adored his firstborn so much. He saw his Rhaenys in their useless son, so much so that he convinced himself he’d make a good King. Oh, father, if only you could see your precious boy now. Shaking in his boots beneath the weight of the crown you had made just for him. 

But it wasn’t the crown that was on Aenys’ head that Maegor craved, no. It was the ruby encrusted Valyrian steel crown his father wore that he wanted. He would be stupid not to accept what he was offered. All in due time.

“Very well. I swear to you that I shall serve you loyally, your grace.” he nodded. 

It still felt strange to address him as anything above himself. Aenys was not someone who inspired any respect in his eyes- but then again who did? Other than his own mother, whom he held to the highest pedestal, there was no other he held respect for when it came to royalty. Not even his own father, not entirely, only when he completely removed the idea that he was ever his father could Maegor see him as a respectable strategist, ruler and warrior. And then of course, Rowan, who had his heart entire. He couldn’t compare her to anyone, for no one could ever compare. Had he respected her any less, he would’ve made sure they were caught in a very compromising position quite publicly, then they could marry. But then she’d face retributions for being an easy woman or someone with loose morals, of which she was neither. He’d never put her in such a position, no, she deserved to be the pinnacle of virtue. In his eyes, that’s what she was.

Aenys gave him an easy smile, relief on his face. He clapped his hands and shuffled with a tiny box in the drawer. He opened it up, revealing a golden pin representative of the position he was about to appoint him. Maegor eyed it carefully, noting all the carved details, before turning his eyes back to the King. Aenys, in turn, took the pin out of the box and approached him, pinning it onto his chest.

“So it’s official.” he grinned. For a moment Aenys turned his eyes toward the pin, his smile falling in confusion, before turning to look at him again. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the other pin on his chest.

Shit. He had completely forgotten that without his armour, Rowan’s pin would be visible. He kept his face as neutral as he could, his lips in a straight tight line, while he pretended to look down, as if he forgot what it even was. 

“It’s for the Warrior’s protection in battle.” he said as plainly as he could. Aenys nodded, the curiosity still not leaving his eyes.

“Oh! Did Ceryse make it for you? How sweet!” he grinned again, eyeing the pin. “And here I was, worried about you two.” he laughed lightly. 

“No, it was my mother who had it made for me.” Maegor was quick to correct him, not being able to think of anyone else that it could be from. Aenys was trying to be close to him, perhaps he’d let him, but this was simply too close. He thought back to their youth, did Aenys remember much of him? Did he ever catch the love struck looks he’d give Rowan? Perhaps he did and thought nothing of it, a mere crush. Did he remember when she gave him her favour in the first tourney he had participated in? If he did, he never mentioned it and Maegor was not going to risk anything by revealing that she was the one who made it for him and placed it onto his heart. He quickly took the pin off, safely tucking it into his pocket, saving it for his drawer later.  

“I thought aunt Visenya wasn’t at all fond of the faith.” Aenys raised a brow, ready to push him more, but hesitated, perhaps because the topic was Visenya.

“She said she enjoyed the sentiment of it all. You can have a deep conversation about her religious beliefs if you so wish.” he answered, raising a brow as well, challenging him to question his statement. 

“Ah- perhaps another day.” he waved his hand, placing it on his shoulder. “I should let you go, I’m sure you must be tired. I’ll let you return to your wife, I shall make the announcement tomorrow. Rest well, brother.” he patted him on the shoulder and sent him on his way.

He sure seemed to be on friendly terms with Ceryse, friendly enough to be worried about them. He saw no reason to protest this, he didn’t hate her but they weren’t friends either. What he felt was resentment. The one thing that would’ve brought him any joy from the marriage his father forced onto him, a child, had yet to appear, despite how much he tried. He knew it was unfair to place it all on her- she also didn’t like him, and for all he knew, a child would bring her joy as well. He couldn’t help how he felt at all, the least he could do was let her do as she pleased, and if that was bringing her family over and keeping company with his half-brother, so be it.

He made his way to his chambers, sending his servants to prepare a bath for him. Aenys was right, he was quite tired. He liked his baths with water that was scalding hot. He felt it was the most relaxing. He sighed in pure relief when he lowered his body into the steaming tub, leaning back and resting his head on the edge. 

Aenys would love to have a goodsister like Rowan. They’d get along, something in him telling him that they’d be close. He thought of this a lot, that idealised fairytale where things went as planned where they lived on Dragonstone, happily married, with their little army of children, before he finally ascended the throne. He didn’t imagine anyone else, just her and their children, sometimes his mother as well, finally calm and relaxed, enjoying her grandchildren. Perhaps Aenys could be there too. Perhaps he’d be much happier as a Prince, with no further obligations or troubles. He’d be free to sing and dance as he wished, maybe he’d enjoy being an uncle far more than Maegor was. 

Aenys always called him brother, unlike Maegor, who always felt the need to add the half before the word, a constant reminder that they were only half connected. The shadow of their father loomed large and Aenys seemed to crumble easily beneath it once he realised how big the boots he had to fill were. He wondered, did he know the side of their father that Maegor got? The one that was barely ever there, the one that gave him scarce crumbles of attention, words of praise he could count on one hand, the one that denied him the one thing he’d ever asked him for. No, why would he? Aenys got everything, just as Rhaenys got everything. Alas, Maegor was his mother’s child when it came to the conqueror, no one of importance. But Aenys, unlike his father and aunt, was making an effort, extending him a huge olive branch. Would it hurt to accept it? Would it feel better to talk to him about everything that brothers talked about, to have a bond?

How would he react if he knew even a snippet of Maegor’s mind? He already cowered before him, Maegor could only imagine how much it would frighten him to know the darkness that lied beneath. But perhaps he wouldn’t. Perhaps he’d try. Perhaps Maegor could try as well. Perhaps it would be nice to have a brother. Yes, Aenys was his brother.

No matter how busy, her father always made time to have breakfast with Rowan. It was her favourite time of day, as she knew he’d eventually leave for six moons and this time she would not be joining him. He was acting a bit strange the past two weeks, but he denied it when she asked, today was no different. 

“So, what are your plans for today?” he asked, taking a bite of the slice of bread in his hand.

“Well, I have to deliver some letters to the maester, but other than that, I’ll just be around the dowager Queen.” she said, taking a sip of her water. “How about you?”

“I’ll be meeting with the builders, we’ll be supplying them with more wood for the construction of the keep.” he hummed. Duncan seemed hesitant for a moment, meeting her eyes, before deciding to at last say what he truly wanted to. “So… the Prince has returned.” he eyed her carefully, to see her reaction to his words.

“He has…” Rowan trailed, confused as to why he was bringing it up. He knew how she felt, better than anyone perhaps, so what was he trying to find out?

“And how do you feel, now that he has returned?” he urged, making her straighten her back in her chair.

“I’m happy that he’s safe. And I’m happy that he’s been chosen as hand of the King.” she said, but her father was unconvinced of her formal response. She sighed. “I still feel the same way, father. I’m sorry, I’m trying, I promise. It’s not like I want to be hurt.”

“No- no, Rowan, I did not mean it like that.” he reached for her hand, food now forgotten. “I wasn’t trying to push you, things like that cannot be pushed. I just know it must be hard to be around him.” he said, his eyes full of sympathy.

“It’s not so terrible.” she shrugged. She hadn’t told him about their meetings in the Queen’s solar, for she felt ashamed to even say it out loud. She knew it was improper, that a huge scandal could break out should anyone suspect anything. She was his mother’s lady in waiting, she had the excuse of being there in the solar, and he could just be looking for his mother and they just happened to bump into each other. But Rowan knew better than that. She knew he had planned those meetings to happen, but she could not bring herself to leave, not when he was the air that kept her from drowning in a sea of worry.

“I’ve noticed a certain Lord has eyes for you.” he finally spoke again. Rowan looked at him with confusion, before realising who he was talking about. 

“Tybolt Lannister?” he nodded. “Father, we’ve exchanged a few words a few times, I highly doubt it’s anything of importance to him.” she protested the statement, finding it now much less humorous than when Lana and Ceryse were teasing her about it.

“Again, I’m not trying to push you to do anything, I’m just trying to say that it’s good for you to think about your possible matches. You never know with these things. How do you feel about him?” he asked with a kind smile on his lips. If she was honest, Rowan wasn’t so sure. Tybolt was kind and very charming, she could not deny that, but beyond that, she wasn’t sure about him. She didn’t know him that well, for all she knew he could be a terrible person, or someone absolutely lovely.

“I don’t know. He seems nice, but other than that, I do not know.” she replied.

“Lannisport is lovely, do you remember when we went? You were quite little the first time, eight? Nine?” her father smiled, causing her to do so as well.

“Yes, it’s a very charming place. I remember it well.” she returned her attention to the plate in front of her, smiling fondly at the memories of her youth and the travels she had joined her father on. Lannisport was one of her favourite places they had been to together. She enjoyed exploring the city, seeing all the goods the merchants had brought from all over the world, and having her father explain to her what each thing was. She missed how carefree she used to feel. Once things had calmed with the rebels, she’d ask for leave from Visenya, for a few moons perhaps, and ask her father to let her join him again. He was her favourite travel companion, from Oldtown, to Highgarden, to even the frosty North.

“He could be a potential match, my love. He’s near your age, quite decent and he could provide you with a very comfortable life. Take your time, get to know him a little more and if he’s to your liking, I’ll make sure he’s a good man who’ll treat you well.” he said softly, studying her face. He frowned when he saw the saddened look on her face. “Take your time, my love, there’s no hurry. I just want you to be happy.”

“I know, father. I’ll talk to him…” she nodded, giving her father a sad smile. He was right, of course, she couldn’t drown in her own sorrow forever. Maegor was married, there was nothing to wait for. She had to think about her future without him, no matter how much it tore her heart to shreds to do so. All she wanted was to fall into Maegor’s arms and hold him and kiss him over and over again, never letting him go. But that was only a fantasy, a childish one she’d better forget if she wanted to ever be happy.

After breakfast, Rowan began her usual routine with Visenya, accompanying her in her meetings, being a scribe for her and it was quite an easy day. They hadn’t talked about Maegor, not anything over the most formal and quick updates. It had been a few days since his return, but she did not see much of him. Perhaps it was for the better. Visenya was in a great mood, her plans for Harrenhal coming to fruition soon. It was a bit eerie how excited she was for violence and punishment, but Rowan chalked it down to distraction from the loss she had faced. 

She was enjoying the fresh air of the gardens as she returned from the ravenry, having delivered the Queen’s letters and messages. All she had left to do was tidy everything up and she was done for the day. Visenya had retired to take a bath, so Rowan was a bit slower to return to the solar, choosing instead to walk the long way there, through the gardens. Before she could get too deep into her thoughts, a newly familiar voice called for her.

“Lady Rowan!”

“Ser Tybolt! You’re back so soon!” Rowan exclaimed. Maegor had returned before his knights, flying on dragonback was a much faster way to travel. She had expected the knights he had chosen to remain in the Vale to ensure that things go back to normal, but she supposed Maegor had other plans. Perhaps he’d need them for Harrenhall too.

“Does it please you, my lady?” he asked, offering her his most charming smile, before placing a kiss on her knuckles. Rowan almost blushed at how forward he was, perhaps she had been quite foolish to not notice it as soon as he first spoke to her.

“Oh, I’m happy to see you back safe and sound my Lord. I’m happy the matter was taken care of so swiftly.” she returned his smile. It was true, she was happy to see that no one was injured upon their return.

“Yes, the Prince was… quite eager to deliver the punishments. We saw no battle, yet I think that disappointed him, for what he had us do was… dire.” Tybolt’s expression was an uneasy one, a little shaken perhaps. He shook his head and returned to his charming, easy smile. “But I should not mention such vile things in the presence of such a lovely lady.”

“You flatter me, my lord…”

“I only speak the truth, my lady.”

“But what good would it do me if I were to ignore what was happening around the land? In such times, wouldn’t it be best to always know the happenings of the realm?” she gently asked, almost bothered that he’d begin his sentence and then change the subject. “You needn’t hold your tongue around me, lord Tybolt.”

“I agree with you wholeheartedly, lady Rowan. I’m not insinuating that because you’re a woman you cannot hear it, it’s just that I don’t think any civilised person should. It’s just, the Prince's appetites were…” he trailed.

“They're what?” she asked, feeling her breath get caught in her throat. 

“Terribly cruel. The subject would cause upset should we talk about them plainly.” Tybolt said, troubled. It felt wrong to speak about Maegor with someone else, someone who could be a potential match for her, but the curiosity was eating at her. It was strange to see him from the eyes of others, specifically Tybolt. His knights sang him praises, but the Lannister in front of her was hesitant to do so. What had Maegor done to earn such a reaction?

“I… I see. Still, I’m glad everyone is back safely. There are more battles to go and I can only pray they end just as safely as this one did.” she offered him another smile. 

Tybolt returned it, opening his mouth to speak, but closing it quickly once he realised someone was coming closer, someone who’s heavy boots she had memorised for years, someone whose pacing she knew by heart. The colour drained from his face when the young lion realised who was behind him. Maegor was frowning, his eyes finding hers, making her heart flutter.

“That is true, my lady, but we cannot shy away from battle, can we?” he asked, his deep voice sending shivers up her spine. Rowan was startled for a moment, afraid she had somehow offended him by saying that, as if to say she didn’t think he could handle battle.

“My Prince, of course not! I did not mean to insinuate any lack-”

“I understand your sentiments, they are fair and kind. There was no offence to be taken.” his eyes softened when he gazed into hers, telling her he knew, he always knew what she meant. But his gaze hardened when he turned to Tybolt, who Rowan forgot was there. “Though I hear some complaints about my methods, Ser Tybald?” he questioned.

“M-my Prince! I- I did not mean any offence!” Tybolt tried his best to not stutter, not even bothering to correct his name for fear that he would upset the Prince even more.

“Do not stutter like a fool, boy, speak clearly. Since you feel so comfortable criticising my methods to a lady, why did you not do so back in the Vale? Was it because you nearly fainted when it was your turn to obey a simple order? Are you only good for jousting at tourneys?” his voice dripped of venom, his frown deepening when the young Lannister could not find any words to respond. He was too stunned to speak. Maegor turned his attention back to Rowan, who was looking at him with wide eyes. “My mother has called for you. Do not allow this poor excuse of a knight to distract you from your duties. Come, I need to speak to her as well.” 

Before Rowan could even open her mouth, Maegor began walking away and she followed him without even thinking. She gave Tybolt an apologetic expression, before turning to catch up with his wide strides. The two did not speak at all, walking in complete, uncomfortable silence instead. She knew he was lying, Visenya wished to retire for the rest of the day to relax, there was nothing else she could want from her. But she felt nervous seeing how Maegor was acting. She had so much to ask of him.

“Has he really displeased you so?” she asked as soon as they were alone in the solar, away from prying eyes. Rowan finally got to take a good look at him. He was dressed so impeccably, standing tall like he always did, looking every inch of royalty. 

“Most certainly, he has. What good is a knight that cannot complete a simple order? He’s good for nothing, if all I’ve seen of him doesn’t change in Harrenhal.” Maegor responded, looking quite annoyed that she’d mention him at all.

“What he said before… what exactly was their punishment that made him almost faint?” she asked, nervously playing with a ring she was wearing.

“I denied the traitors a quick death. They did not deserve the mercy of the sword, nor their armour, so I had them stripped down and hanged. The realm needs to see that betrayal to the crown will leave them both killed and humiliated.” he removed his gloves, and poured two glasses of water, giving one to Rowan first before taking a sip. “I did not wish for you to hear, I must confess. Your heart has always been kind and delicate, I do not wish to burden it, if I can help it.” he sat down, his voice softer and his eyes on her face. Her brows were furrowed, while she thought, before taking a seat next to him.

“I do not wish to be sheltered from reality. I thought you already knew that.” Rowan frowned, looking down at her glass. Was what he did cruel? He was certainly right, it did send a strong message, one she wasn’t sure Aenys would carry out without Maegor. But was it necessary? She couldn’t pretend to completely understand matters of battle and war, all she knew came from books and stories Visenya would sometimes share. She trusted Maegor, she trusted him with all her heart, she could trust him in this as well.

“I know. But I’ve missed you, and all I’ve been occupied with lately has been battle, I did not wish to speak about it any more.” he reached out and gently took her hand in his, making her gasp ever so softly. Rowan found she couldn’t look at him directly, focusing instead on his warm hands. She gave a small smile when she saw he still wore the ring she had gifted him when they were young, she lightly traced it with her free hand, earning a soft sigh from him. “Has he been bothering you? Do you want me to send him away? Just say the word and he’s gone.” he asked, his voice now serious. She shook her head.

“Tybolt isn’t bothering me. He’s kind and good company.” she said, making Maegor frown at the mention of his name.

“Good company.” he scoffed, sarcastically repeating her words to her. “Do his exaggerations entertain you? I could find you a court fool to make you laugh, if you so wish.” he almost pouted.

“A court fool? Maegor, what is with you and him?” she asked, worried that the Prince before her had it out for Tybolt, who in her eyes was innocent.

“It’s not- I’m not… I bet your father wouldn’t want that coward near his daughter.” he stumbled, but still held onto her hands tenderly, despite his tone.

“My father? He was actually quite fond of the idea that I’d find a match in Casterly Rock. He told me to spend some time with him, see if I like him.” she said, feeling guilty for bringing it up, knowing that the subject of her marriage was a tense one between them. Maegor froze, his hands now clinging on her own while he processed.

“Duncan said that?” he asked slowly. When Rowan nodded, he bit the inside of his cheek, his frown deepening even more. “He’s eager to marry you off to the highest bidder?” he asked, his voice now angry, but still hushed. Rowan felt anger rise inside her at his question- her father would never be so crass. She pulled her hands away from his, placing them on her lap.

“You know my father better than that! Of course he’d never do such a thing. We cannot pretend that I won’t eventually marry, Maegor. He simply wants me to find a husband that will keep me happy. He sensed that Tybolt could be interested and simply asked me to get to know him and see if he could be that person. He’d never push for me to do it, you know this.” she frowned, looking into his eyes. He was still angry, however.

“So you’re more than fine with that pathetic excuse of a man parading himself in front of you? You’d even reward him with your time and potentially your hand?” he protested, reaching back for her hands. “He’s worth nothing, he can offer you nothing. How is that boy going to protect you? He’s useless, all show. He’ll do nothing for you, don’t-” he breathed. “Don’t marry him. Please don’t marry him.” he begged, his voice quiet like a whisper. 

Rowan felt her heart break again and again, returning the grip that Maegor had on her hands. She hated this, she hated that they were in this situation to begin with, hated that she’d eventually part with him forever, that she’d have someone else by her side, someone who would never live up to Maegor’s shadow. Just the thought made tears well up in her eyes.

“I don’t wish to marry anyone else, but I cannot- I cannot stay here forever…” she whispered, getting the courage to meet his intense, pleading eyes. Maegor seemed to panic in that moment, reaching out to cup her face softly.

“Forgive me- Please don’t cry. I don’t blame you, I never would.” he pleaded softly, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape her. She revelled in his warmth, at their closeness, she gently placed her hand on his. They stayed like that in a comfortable silence, where Rowan could only hear their breaths and her own heart beating. 

“I didn’t even congratulate you…” she broke the silence after a while, gently leaning into his hands that were still holding her. Maegor smiled, glancing at his new pin. “How do you feel?” she asked, leading his hands back to the table. 

“Strange.” he admitted. “Good, but strange. I’m pretty sure it’s a kind of olive branch he’s extending me. Maybe he feels guilty and wants to have a brother.” he mused, playing with the rings on her hands. 

“And you? Do you want to have a brother?” she asked, studying his face. She noticed how pensive he looked, letting himself be vulnerable away from everyone else. “I think you two could be close. It’ll be nice to make up for lost time, don’t you think?” she asked again.

“I wouldn’t change anything about how I grew up. I got to have you, I wouldn’t trade that for any potential brother. But perhaps… it would be nice.” he admitted, looking down. A small laugh escaped his lips. “I know his council and Alyssa will give him hell for naming me his hand.” he smirked. 

Gods, he looked so handsome when he smirked. At that moment Rowan felt ashamed. Ashamed at the unholy thoughts that were in her mind. All she could focus on were his hands- they were huge. And warm, and strong. In his arms, she felt so safe and protected, having him be so protective of her made her feel fuzzy. She wondered how they’d feel roaming all over her- Gods be good, what was she thinking? He raised a brow after he noticed her blushing cheeks, shooting her a smile. Did he not know what he did to her?

“He knew that, and still made his choice.” she smiled. Maegor nodded and traced over the light scarring on her fingertips.

“You’ve been nervous.” he stated, his smile faltering.

“...I was worried about you.” she confessed. “I always do.” Maegor went to speak, but Rowan interrupted him by getting up. “The hour grows late, it’s almost time for supper. I still have to tidy up the solar.” 

“Are you kicking me out?” he laughed. “Very well then. I shall see you soon.” he said, getting up as well, making sure to push his chair back in, so that he wouldn’t make a mess for her. He didn’t leave right away, lingering next to her. He took her hand once more, placing a kiss on the back of it, making her heart stop. “I didn’t thank you for your pin. It helped prevent a battle, you know?” he teased gently. Rowan couldn’t stop her grin.

“Oh, come on.” she groaned.

“I’ll be leaving for Harrenhal next week, would you make me another one?” he asked, smiling. He truly liked it so much? How could she deny him then?

“Of course.”

taglist:@heartstalked@stupidocupido@discowizard88@slytherisstuff

#maegor targaryen x oc #maegor the cruel #hotd fanfic