#Meanwhile his best friends are accusing every single person of murder while dressed like a low budget sherlock or female Conan

[leverythingbluel]

Gin and Kagura really dived head first into that detective show attire lmao

[liberty-barnes]

The Swear Jar

Part 1 of The Jar Series

Mob Boss!Tom Holland x Single Mom!Reader

Prompt: “I've never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life”

Warnings: swearing obviously, Tom’s a mob boss so there’s that, there’s like, one sexual innuendo but also ??? not really??? idk

Word Count: 4k (i really need to learn to write short things)

Estimated Reading Time: 16 minutes

A/N: It’s the pic guys, I can’t help it.

Edit: Wow, you guys actually liked this! So since many of you asked, a part will be coming out soon, maybe more, we’ll see. So if you wanna be added to my “The Swear Jar” Taglist, just ask me or add yourself directly through the link in my bio!

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

The bell above the door to the diner chimed and you perked up, smiling brightly at the young teenage couple.

“Gracie! Stella! It’s so good to see you again!”

The girls greeted you with the same amount of enthusiasm and proceeded to order their usual meal.

“Your hair’s really pretty Stella! You look like a mermaid now!”

“Thanks, Millie! I took your advice and went with blue instead of purple.”

The young girl smiled and captured the couple’s attention by showcasing her current work in progress.

Millicent Rose (Y/l/n) was your five-year-old daughter. She had brown hair, falling on her shoulders in nice large curls, and big (y/e/c) eyes, a perfect match to yours. She loved drawing (the diner walls were crawling with her masterpieces) and pretty hair, especially if it was soft. 

Her bubbly and fearless personality sometimes frightened you, but you mostly came to terms with the fact that your daughter was a social butterfly and took full advantage of the small diner to interact with as many people as she could.

You watched with a fond smile as Millie explained what she had been drawing to the girls, mentioning every little detail while they praised her good work. The young brunette had a gift to make anyone love her.

Soon enough, their large milkshake to share was finished and Lou, the owner and cook, was all done with the food so the girls sat down at a booth and Millie went back to drawing, little feet dangling off the chair and little brows furrowed in concentration. 

As you were refiling Mr and Mrs Lee’s drinks, the bell chimed once more and four men walked in dressed in stylish suits, much too fancy for this place. They sat down at a booth and started talking while you took a deep calming breath.

Oh, fuck me.

You took your notepad and walked over to them, a much too fake smile on your face.

“Good morning gentlemen, what can I get you?”

The table quieted down and you made eye contact with who you knew to be the leader.

“I’ll have a burger with fries and a strawberry milkshake.”

One of the twins said.

“I’ll have the same but with a chocolate milkshake instead.”

The other one added.

“Vegi burger and a coke, please.”

At least the blonde one had some manners. 

Your eyes lifted from the notepad to the leader once again.

“And for you?”

You did your best to ignore the slight tremble in your voice.

“Bacon cheeseburger, fries and a coke, darling.”

“Right away.”

You got out of there as soon as possible, sparing a glance at your daughter to make sure she was still sitting at the counter before entering the kitchen with a panicked expression on your face.

“Lou…”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You’ve got an order… for the Hollands…”

“Well, shit.”

The Holland family was the oldest and most successful mob in London, extremely rich, dangerous, and seemingly untouchable.

Harry and Sam Holland, the twins, were rumoured to have been behind the Burtons’ death, another famous family known for drug trafficking and other crimes.

Harrison Osterfield, the second in command, was a close family friend, accused of drug trafficking, illegal weapons selling, and other such crimes, though the charges all dropped before the first hearing even took place.

And finally, Thomas Holland, the leader. Arrested for multiple murders, arson, extortion, and a long list of other felonies, but never convicted.

Everyone was scared of them, and the fact that they were eating here was not good for business. 

You ignored the tightness in your chest in favour of helping Lou prepare their food, hoping to do it as fast as possible so the group could leave.

Meanwhile, at the booth, Tom was rolling his eyes at his brothers and friend’s stupidity. 

“Okay, we get it, she’s hot, but you don’t have to talk about it all the fucking time.”

Millie turned her head in their direction and scowled. She stretched a bit to the other side of the counter to take the transparent jar and got down from her chair, making her way to their booth, stomping a bit, which made her Sketchers light up.

The diner watched with curious (and slightly frightened, for the Lees) eyes as the little girl climbed onto the booth next to Harrison, one leg after the other, and kneeled next to the blonde, setting her elbow on the table and stretching so the transparent jar was now sitting in front of Tom.

He looked at it: a lid-less mason jar with a pink bow and right in the front, in a child’s handwriting and pink glittery letters were the words 'Swear Jar’.

“You owe a pound.”

He lifted his head to look at the girl.

“I beg your pardon?”

“When someone says a bad word they have to put a pound in the jar. You said a bad word so you owe a pound.”

“I’ve never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life!”

“That’s two more so you have to put three pounds in.”

“Yeah, Tom, put the money in.”

Harrison had his arms around the girl and a smug smile on his face, evidently taking a liking to the young brunette.

“Shut the fuck up Haz, you curse more than I do!”

“Four.”

“Shit.”

That one was not on purpose.

“Five.”

“Okay, okay, jeez, hold on.”

He took out his wallet and took his only five-dollar bill amid all the hundreds.

“Just gonna put the money in this stupid jar.”

“Six.”

“Wha- stupid’s not a swear word!”

“I’m not allowed to say it so yes, it is.”

Tom rummaged around his wallet for a stray pound, reluctantly putting a hundred in after finding nothing.

“Does that mean I’m allowed to say ninety-nine swear words?”

“No paying in advance, everything that’s not the money you owe is a donation.”

“To what foundation?”

“The ‘get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation”

She answered with a smirk and everyone -bar Tom- was pretty much crying at seeing their boss be told what to do by a five-year-old.

“Man, you are so screwed!”

“That’s one pound for you, Mister!”

“Oh shit, right!”

“Two…”

Harry took out his wallet (still laughing his arse off, mind you) and didn’t even try to look for the two pounds, simply putting in a hundred.

Millie’s eyes were focused solely on Tom’s hair. She climbed on top of Harrison, her pink tulle skirt flying behind her and stood on the seat next to the brunette, her hands immediately flying to his hair.

“You have very pretty hair. It’s really soft.”

“Thank you, darling.”

She hummed and kept playing with the soft strands.

“My name’s Tom, and these are my twin brothers Harry and Sam, and my best friend, Haz.”

She looked around for a while, not answering, seemingly lost in thought until she looked back at him and her sparkling (y/e/c) eyes focused on his brown ones.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy. I’m Millie.”

“T-Tommy?”

Sam stuttered out between peels of laughter.

“I don’t like Tom, Tommy’s better. Why are you so shocked Twin Nice?”

Harry looked appalled.

“Why's he Twin Nice?”

“Because you said a bad word and he didn’t, so he’s Twin Nice and you’re Twin Naughty.”

Sam did a little victory dance, bragging about his new nickname to his twin.

The little girl sat down on Tom’s lap and started to play with the black ring on his finger.

“What am I, then?”

She looked up to Harrison from in between Tom’s fingers, still playing with the thick band.

“You’re Thor cause you have pretty eyes and you look really strong.”

To say that the blonde was pleased would be an understatement.

“You, little lady, are my new best friend. We need to come here more often.”

Millie smiled and went back to observing the ring.

“Does this mean you’re married?”

Tom chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“No, it means that I’m a part of the Holland family, like them.”

Everyone around the table showed theirs, a symbol of their high status in the mob.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Do you live with your mommy?”

“No, I live with these dumbasses in a big house.”

She pushed the swear jar towards him and gave him what could only be described as the 'Disappointed Mom’ look.

“Do you like it?”

“Kind of, sometimes they get on my nerves and I wish they’d rot in Hell, but yeah, it’s not too bad.”

She slapped his hand in reprimand and he internally cursed himself.

“Don’t you miss your mommy?”

“A little, but I see my parents every Sunday for family dinner.”

He answered after placing yet another bill in the jar.

“Parents?”

“Yeah, my mum and dad.”

She hummed.

“I wish I had a dad.”

The boys all stiffened. 

Well, that escalated quickly.

Tom cleared his throat, measuring his words before speaking, for once in his life.

“Do you know what happened to your dad?”

“Mommy says he left cause he wasn’t good like her. She says it’s okay, though, cause we only need each other but my friend Lilly has a mommy and a daddy and she told me that sometimes when her mommy’s sad or tired he’ll do all the grown-up stuff like cook and read her a story while her mommy rests and she’s happier that way. I want my mommy to be happy like that too.”

For Tom, it felt like his cold, dead heart was starting to beat again. This little angel sitting on his lap was asking for something most children already had, not for herself, but for her mother.

“You’re a really good person, Millie.”

“If you stopped saying so many bad words you’d be one too, Tommy.”

The boys laughed yet again and they continued talking for a little while, refraining from any work-related issues for the sake of their newest addition, choosing instead to discuss sports and fighting over who’d be on cleaning duty that Sunday. Three more bills made their way to the jar during that particular discussion, one from each boy (bar Sam because he was on cooking duty, as always), and for once they allowed themselves to relax and simply be, instead of always worrying.

You got out of the kitchen with the men’s orders ready and looked at the end of the counter, planning to check on Millie before walking over to the mobsters’ table. Your brows furrowed when you didn’t find her and you immediately looked towards the girls’ table or the Lees’, finding she wasn’t there either.

“Mommy, over here!”

You followed your child’s voice and your eyes widened once you saw her sitting on the leader’s lap. The smiling leader’s lap.

You quickly made your way to their booth, placing their orders in front of them without even taking your eyes off your daughter.

“Millicent Rose! What have I told you about bothering people when they’re in their booths?”

She looked guilty for half a second but immediately perked up again, ready to defend herself.

“Not to, but Mommy, he said a bad word so I had to take the swear jar to him.”

“And why, pray tell, are you sitting in the gentleman’s lap?”

“His name’s Tommy and he said he didn’t mind and this way I can talk to Thor, Twin Nice and Twin Naughty better.”

Tommy, Thor, Twin Nice, and Twin Naughty?

“Oh, fuck me.”

Millie’s jaw dropped open. She’d never heard you swear before.

“You owe a pound, Mommy.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

You pulled a pound from your pocket and put it in, eyes widening at the amount of money in the jar.

“How in the world?”

“I didn’t have singles so I just put hundreds in. Apparently, it’s a donation to the 'Get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation.”

You set the jar down and shook your head in disbelief.

“I am never letting Harley babysit you ever again.”

She pouted and slumped down, arms crossed adorably in front of her.

“Now come on, let the gentlemen eat their lunch in peace and come get yours.”

She cuddled up to Tom more than before, burying her head in his chest and fisting his shirt, and shaking her head in protest.

“Millie, come on, let’s go. I’m so sorry for the bother sir.”

“It’s no problem, she’s welcome to say for however long she wants.”

The brunette smiled at your daughter and then at you, before the man on his right interrupted.

“Besides, she’s very entertaining. It’s nice to see someone else call Tom out on his bullshit.”

You and Millie threw the blonde matching glares while Tom just pushed the jar towards him.

“You owe a pound, Haz”

“Excuse you Tommy, my name’s Thor.”

He then turned to you with a smug smile and attitude.

“Cause I have pretty eyes like him and look very strong. Don’t you agree with your daughter… (Y/n)?”

He read your name tag and smiled charmingly while you pursed your lips, looking him up and down. You then looked at your little girl.

“You sure?”

“Well, who else has pretty blue eyes?”

“Captain America.”

She light up right away and straightened herself.

“Right! And he looks like Captain America when he was tiny! Thanks, Mommy!”

She then turned to Harrison with a gigantic smile on her face.

“You’re Tiny America now.”

The whole table -bar Haz- laughed and you had to bite your lip not to laugh too, instead linking your hands and looking at the clock.

“Come on Millie, it’s time to eat.”

“Can I eat here with Tommy, please?”

“If you eat here with Tommy I won’t be able to make sure you eat your veggies.”

The man’s heart stuttered when you used his nickname, a strange sense of happiness overcoming him.

“Tommy can check.”

“Mm… I’m not sure if he can check you ate them. He’s not used to your sneakiness.”

“What if I pinky promise to eat my veggies and eat a banana for dessert instead of ice cream?”

It was a struggle to get her to eat fruits and veggies. You usually had to settle for one or the other, so when she spontaneously decided to eat both, you jumped at the opportunity, mob be damned.

“Deal! But no annoying the boys.”

She smiled and nodded, settling comfortably on Tom’s lap, waiting for her food. You took out her plate of chicken nuggets, fries, and green beans, chocolate milkshake to wash it down.

You tried not to let the butterflies in your stomach distract you from your job but the way Tom smiled at your daughter and praised her when she ate all her veggies in a row, wanting to get it over with, made your heart ache, the longing for someone still very much present.

“Have a nice meal.”

You made eye contact with the brunette and blushed at the smile he sent you before waving goodbye at the Lees. The teenage couple had left a bit earlier so the mobsters were now your last customers of the day.

You wiped the kitchen counters and said goodbye to Lou, assuring him that you’d close up by yourself. As soon as he left, you took a deep breath and sighed, unable to stop your smile when you heard your daughter’s laugh carrying through the wall separating you from the group.

“Mommy, we’re done!”

You straightened up and schooled your features before walking over to them, taking away their plates while asking if Millie behaved and if they wanted dessert. The answer to both questions was a yes and so you came back a little while later with chocolate pudding for the twins, caramel ice cream for Harrison, a banana split for Tom, and a miniature one for Millie.

“Since you behaved so nicely you get a little sweetness with your banana.”

Her eyes sparkled and she smiled brightly at you.

“You’re the best mommy ever! I love you!”

“Love you too, baby.”

You turned around, ready to leave, when a voice stopped you.

“Why don’t you sit down with us for a bit? I’m pretty sure that if you wipe that table down one more time you’ll remove the paint.”

You blushed but complied, sitting down next to Harrison and watching as your daughter ate her dessert quickly and quietly, wincing from time to time because of brain freezes. As soon as she was done, she reached for Tom’s right hand. He switched the hand that held the spoon, eating with his left so that Millie could play with the ring on his finger.

Unfortunately for him, he had a bit of trouble eating with his non-dominant hand while holding a child on his lap, leading to a bit of ice cream falling on his shirt.

“Ah, fu-”

You shot him a glare that made him change courses immediately.

“-dge. Fudge.”

Millie clapped and gave him a big, approving smile.

“See, Mommy? He’s making progress!”

“Indeed he is, darling.”

“Oh, this is fucking hilarious!”

The young girl gasped, mouth open comically wide and utter betrayal swimming in her eyes.

“I thought you were nice.”

Sam realized his mistake as soon as she spoke, covering his mouth with his hand as if to stop any more of the offending words from leaving it.

“You owe five pounds.”

“What? Why? I only said one swear word!”

She shook her head in disapproval, arms crossed in front of her chest, and pushed the jar towards him.

“You made me believe you were nice so your trickster-y will cost you four extra pounds.”

You shook your head, smile firmly plastered on your face as you watched Sam pull out a hundred dollar bill with a pout on his lips. It was quite endearing, really.

“So, (Y/n), tell us about you.”

You locked eyes with the brunette once again, piercing gaze seemingly looking through you.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell, Mr Holland. I’m not a very interesting person.”

Your voice was soft, your words calculated. You knew that these men could kill you in the blink of an eye.

“No uninteresting person could have raised such a perfect little angel.”

He smirked and Millie looked at you with a smug smile.

“See, he said I was an angel.”

Life be damned, it’s not worth living if your daughter has an ego the size of Russia. That would most definitely come back to bite you in the ass.

“Yeah, that’s cause he hasn’t had to deal with you in all your nightly glory.”

She put her tongue out and snuggled deeper into Tom’s chest.

“Well, for one, how did you find yourself working here?”

He got the conversation back on you and you felt slightly intimidated with the whole table’s eyes on little old you.

“Customers are nice, I earn enough money for us to get by, owner’s nice, the school’s at the end of the street, and Millie gets to stay with me when she’s not there.”

Even though he was focused on you, you noticed the way he held your daughter close to his chest, his bigger frame completely enveloping her smaller one. She still hadn’t let go of his hand and kept playing with the ring on his finger. Seeing how calm and caring he was being with your daughter calmed you down and the more questions you answered, the more comfortable you became.

“How can you work at a dinner and not like vanilla milkshakes?”

Sam looked horrified at that, and you just shrugged dismissively.

“I never really liked when vanilla was too present. Like, if you used it to just enhance everything else you know, make it taste better, then sure, but just vanilla isn’t really my style.”

Tom took a sharp breath in and tried to stop his mind from wandering at the possible double meaning of your words. Instead, he chose to focus on the little girl on his lap.

Until he noticed she was asleep, that is.

He smiled a little and shifted her so she was resting more comfortably on his lap. Unfortunately for him, that caught your attention.

“Oh my, is she asleep? I’m really sorry.”

“No worries, though we should probably get her to bed so she doesn’t wake up with a stiff neck.”

For the umpteenth time, you pushed down the butterflies upon hearing him say 'we’ and being so careful with your daughter.

You took the remaining dishes and went to the kitchen, putting them in the wash and turning on the machine, leaving it to run so tomorrow morning you’d be able to put everything away. You went back in to clean the booth and Tom practically shoved a hundred dollar bill in your hand, ignoring your protests.

He waited for you by the door while you finished closing up, and you extended your arms towards him when you finished.

“Thank you for everything today, but you must be getting tired, I can take her from here.”

He gently pushed your arms down.

“Let me take you home, please, I don’t like the idea of you having to carry her all on your own.”

You hesitantly nodded and he guided you to his car. It’s only then that you noticed the other three had left. You settled on the passenger side of his black Audi and he handed you Millie, closing the door softly as to not startle her. He then entered the driver’s side and started the car. You gave him directions to your apartment building and within five minutes, he parked the car right out front.

Ever the gentleman, he insisted on carrying the little girl. Knowing by now that there wasn’t much you could do to protest, you agreed and led him up the four flights of stairs to your door.

“Sorry 'bout the mess.”

“It’s no problem, darling, I quite like it.”

You turned your head for a brief second, as if asking him to elaborate while still leading him to your daughter’s room.

“The fact that it’s messy means that someone lives here, that this isn’t just some house, it’s a home. My house is always pristine but that’s because no one’s ever there to actually use it as something other than a glorified B&B.”

He laid Millie down on the bed and you pulled the covers over her. You both stood side to side for a little while, just watching her breathe.

“That sounds really lonely.”

“Yeah…”

Another minute passed by with no words coming from either of you.

“You raised an amazing daughter, (Y/n).”

“You’re a good man, Tom.”

Hearing those unfamiliar words coming out of your mouth almost brought tears to his eyes. He was always used to being called a ruthless mobster, cold-blooded killer, or many other names that all meant the same thing: monster. But you called him a good man, and the sincerity in your voice was almost overwhelming.

He cleared his throat and straightened up, making you turn towards him.

“I should probably go… You should get some rest as well.”

You nodded and walked him to the door. In a split-second decision, you leaned up and kissed his cheek, locking eyes with him afterwards.

“If you ever need an escape, or just wanna hang out somewhere different, our door’s always open.”

That made a smile take over his face and he kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, darling.”

And as you watched him round the corner, only your back visible to you, you couldn’t help but feel like this wouldn’t be the last time you ever saw Tom Holland.

i have mixed feelings concerning this story but at least i have ideas for a part two (if i ever decide to make one)

don’t forget to reblog, comment or like if you feel like it <3

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 16: Night Before the Battle

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which Harry accompanies Y/N to meet the other queen.

Word count: 3.6k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N aka Peach)

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.

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Y/N and Harry arrived at the southern border at dawn and found a single tent with two horses outside. Calanthe and whoever had accompanied her must have camped here overnight. Y/N assumed it was one of The Monks; however, she’d never met any of them, except for the one who had been sent to kill her at the market last year.

Y/N dismounted Thunder, unsheathed the dagger at her side and tucked it into her riding boot. They would be asked to submit their weapons before Calanthe received them, and even though Y/N doubted Calanthe could hurt a single fly, it was still better to be careful.

Mary had come to see Y/N the other night, and if the witch had been honest, Harry’s and Lance’s speculations had been true. It wasn’t at all shocking to Y/N that The Monks were only using Calanthe as a chess piece in their game. Calanthe didn’t seem like the mastermind behind this elaborated plan, starting with the attacks at the borders and Harry’s capture. Calanthe was desperate and angry, but she wasn’t vicious enough to want to take over the world.

Hearing Y/N’s and Harry’s arrival, a tall dark man with a thick beard emerged from the tent, dressed in a large black cloak – the signature look of The Monks. He swept his fierce eyes over Y/N with his thick eyebrow arched. Her heart thudded violently as she held her breath in fear of him acknowledging the weapon hidden inside her boot. Thank Gods, he didn’t.

His dry lips spread in an attempt of a smile, which didn’t look at all genuine and less intimidating. He put a hand on his chest and took a bow before Y/N. “Queen Y/N, my queen was expecting you.” His gaze flicked to Harry’s sword. “You must submit all weapons. And your servant is not allowed to enter.”

“That’s my commander,” Y/N said.

The man gave Harry a scornful smirk as he told Y/N, “If you say so, Your Majesty.” Y/N glanced at Harry to see her lover have his fingers wrapped around his sword-hilt. It must take everything for him not to say something when being disrespected by the enemy.

“If Harry is not allowed to enter, he must keep his sword,” Y/N said.

The man held her stare thoughtfully before another eerie smile transformed his long face, sending chills right down her spine. He didn’t ask Harry to hand in the weapon anymore as he told Y/N to come with him.

The inside of the tent was dimly lit by firelight. Calanthe sat in her chair in her riding clothes, her hair tied up in a braid at the back of her neck. The shadow on the wall looked as though it wanted to engulf her. She looked small and young and helpless. Without Y/N’s uncle’s crown on Calanthe’s head, no one would be able to tell that Calanthe was a queen and not a young maiden being held captive by the evil man in the black cloak.

The inside of the tent was dimly lit by firelight. Calanthe sat in her chair in her long golden velvet dress with her hair tied up in a braid at the back of her neck. The shadow on the wall looked as though it wanted to engulf her. She appeared small and young and helpless. Without Y/N’s uncle’s crown on Calanthe’s head, no one would be able to tell that Calanthe was a queen and not a young maiden being held captive by the evil man in the black cloak.

“I thought I told you to come alone,” Calanthe spoke once the man had left.

Y/N took some time to study the Queen of Theros. A lot had changed about Calanthe since the last time Y/N had seen her in person. She looked sick with her bony physique, lifeless eyes and pallid skin. What had they done to her? What had she done to herself?

“Harry’s my commander,” Y/N said, keeping a straight face. “It’s not safe for a queen to travel that far on her own. And didn’t you bring someone as well?”

“Vossler’s my new consultant.” Calanthe rose from her chair, eyeing Y/N with contempt. “Since you killed the old one.”

“I’m not here to be accused of murder. I wasn’t in the castle that night.”

Calanthe tilted her head and pouted with feigned innocence. “Who should I complain to then? Your husband?” Her face turned cold. “Let me remind you why you’re here, Y/N. I asked for the witch. Where is she?”

Y/N’s expression remained unchanged. “I told you I came with just Harry.”

Calanthe’s eyebrows knitted. It wasn’t until now that Y/N realised how quiet it was. There was no sound but the crackling of the fire and the sighing of the wind. She wondered if Harry was still waiting for her outside. He wouldn’t leave her by choice. She could take down Calanthe, and hopefully, Harry could handle Vossler, unless this was a trap and they’d just walked straight into it. Y/N doubted it, though. The reckless little girl who’d been forced to put on her dead husband’s crown would probably have Y/N and Harry murdered tonight. However, Calanthe wasn’t playing this game. The Monks were.

“The witch belongs to me,” Calanthe said, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts. “You return her to me, and I will spare your life in the war.”

“I don’t ask for mercy in a war I’m not losing.”

“Even if it means you’d get to keep the North?”

“Get to keep the North?” Y/N scoffed. “The North belongs to me. I’m the rightful ruler and heir to the crown. My family is the oldest family that’s ever lived–”

“Said the only family member survived,” Calanthe cut her off. It was a jab in the heart, still, Y/N didn’t let it show. “The first High King angered the Gods,” Calanthe went on with a smug grin. “His bloodline would end with your death.”

“Is that a threat?” asked Y/N.

“I never threaten.” Calanthe’s brows were drawn together. “I guarantee that you won’t live to see your people bend their knees to me.”

Y/N chuckled. “Should it be easier if you kill me now, though?”

“And become the villain in the story? No, darling,” Calanthe asked with fake surprise. “I must win on the battlefield, my dear. But if you give me the witch, I’ll let you live to be a sad loser. You can keep the North, marry your handsome king and live happily ever after in your winter castle. But if you keep the witch, I’ll have to declare war against the South based on the fact that your brother murdered my husband, and you murdered George Wallace.”

“There’s no proof for either of your accusations.”

“Trust me.” A corner of Calanthe’s red lips lifted. “It’s so easy to convince the other kingdoms that you’re just as mad as your brother.”

Y/N swallowed hard, balling her fists. She wasn’t going to let herself be provoked by Calanthe’s harmless words. This woman wasn’t the real enemy.

“If you declare war with the North,” Y/N said, “you declare war with Attwell, too.”

Calanthe rolled her eyes and smirked. “With Rouxvania’s support, I would surely win.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped. “The East is on your side?”

“While you were too busy looking for the cure for your lover, I was busy nurturing my allies.” Calanthe turned her back to Y/N, facing the fire. Y/N caught a glimpse of two long scars on Calanthe’s right palm. It seemed like she had been learning to wield a sword. Y/N guessed The Monks was going to send Calanthe onto the battlefield where they’d make sure she would not return. They wanted all kings and queens to fight to the death so they’d take over one hundred kingdoms.

“They’re just using you,” Y/N broke the silence. Calanthe glanced over her shoulder, her eyes troubled. “They’ll kill you like they did to my brother and the first High King,” Y/N went on, keeping her voice as quiet as possible. “Egon and Lokesh also believed they were ‘the chosen one’. You’re their next victim, Calanthe.”

Calanthe whirled around as she snapped, “And why should I trust you?”

“Because I don’t want the South for my own,” Y/N calmly said. “And I’m not standing here as your enemy. I’m here as a woman who doesn’t want to see another woman suffer from abuse from men.”

Calanthe’s eyes squinted with doubt. “You’re only saying this because you fear you’re going to end up like every single one in your family. Dead.”

Y/N clenched her fists, now highly aware of the existence of the dagger in her boot. Still, she kept her composure. “I know you hate me because of what my father did to your family and kingdom. I am sorry. If I could go back in time and stop him, I would. But I can’t. I’m trying to help you now by telling you the truth–”

“You don’t know what the truth is,” Calanthe cut her off. “You think you’re so special huh? Just because you found the lake and survived the North Forest, it doesn’t make you special, Y/N. You’re just as twisted as the men in your family. Lokesh sold his baby’s soul for victory, didn’t he? And we both know you didn’t just ask a witch to bring your friend back to life for free. You killed you ba–”

Y/N didn’t wait for Calanthe to finish. She shoved Calanthe into her chair, drew the dagger out of her boot so fast that Calanthe could barely gasp when the shiny blade was held at her throat.

“Your Majesty, is everything all right?” asked Vossler as his shadow towered over the entrance of the tent.

Y/N applied a little bit more pressure to her dagger as she leaned in and whispered into Calanthe’s ear, “I’d cut your throat before he could set foot into this tent.”

She could see that Calanthe was trying her best to look calm while her big blue eyes were showing the opposite. “Everything is fine,” she told Vossler.

Y/N looked back over her shoulder and saw that Vlosser hesitated before he left. He probably suspected something was off but had no choice but to obey the command.

“I know you can’t kill me,” Calanthe said through gritted teeth.

Y/N turned back to her. “I can. I just chose not to because I’m not stupid.” Her fingers relaxed around the hilt of her dagger. “But as you can see, it’s very easy for me to kill you. And we’re not even on the battlefield, Calanthe.”

When Y/N pulled away, Calanthe let out a loud sigh as she immediately reached for her throat as if to make sure her head was still attached. Y/N thrust the dagger back into her boot, smiling.

Calanthe gave her a dismissive wave, too embarrassed to even make eye contact. “You may leave.”

Knowing there was nothing she could do to change this foolish woman’s mind, Y/N kept her thoughts to herself and walked out without a single glance back.

Outside, Harry was waiting with the horses while Vossler was sharpening his blade by the tent. Y/N could feel Vossler’s dark eyes following her as she exited the tent and padded straight toward Harry. His eyes stayed fixed on Vossler as he asked her, “So?”

She shook her head and mounted her horse. “Let’s go.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he knew this wasn’t the right time to have this conversation. Giving Vossler one more glare, he got onto Lightning’s back. Together, they rode away.

When they came across a river, Y/N suddenly stopped, got off her horse and walked straight to the riverbank. She stood there in silence, just gazing out at the water.

Harry came up from behind her. “Peach, what happened back there?” He sounded worried. It made her feel bad.

She sucked in a breath and put her arms around herself. “I had a dagger at her throat, and she still wouldn’t surrender.”

There was a pause. “Peach, you can’t do that. She’s still a queen.”

Y/N whirled around to face a concerned Harry. “She’s an idiot. Now people are going to die. I can’t stop this war from happening.”

He sighed and placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s not your fault. You can’t control everything.”

“Everything is my fault.” Her head drooped as her voice cracked. “This all started with me running away. I killed my father and my brother, and my uncle was murdered because of me.”

“You did what you thought was right at the time. You couldn’t have known.” He squeezed her shoulders gently. “You’re not responsible for their deaths. If I were to die defending you, it wouldn’t be your fault, either.”

Her heart stopped. She looked up into his green eyes. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that. You won’t die.”

A knot lodged in her throat as his eyebrows sloped. “When someone dies, they die, Peach. You cannot stop it. But no matter how or when it happens, it will not be your fault. And you will not waste one moment on guilt.”

Tears blurred his features. Y/N couldn’t even think of something happening to Harry again. Losing him once was already too much. Other than Lance, Harry was the only person in her life who knew what kept me up at night. He knew her more than her own family had. It would be like losing her mother all over again, but she’d known long before her mother’s death that it was going to happen. Her mother had been sick. If Harry died under the hand of the enemy, it would happen suddenly. How could she ever recover?

“Tell me you understand that.” His voice shook her back to reality.

She didn’t want to understand, but she nodded nonetheless because that was what he needed to see. She slipped her arms around his neck, and he hugged her tightly. She never wanted him to let go.

“Your father and brother weren’t good kings.” His voice thickened. “But you are a great queen. You’re the chosen one, Peach. You’ll lead your army to victory. I believe in you..” Stepping back, he squeezed her shoulder once more and offered a smile to fool her into thinking everything was going to be okay. At least it worked. “Come.” He kissed her forehead. “It’ll be a long trip back to the castle.”

.

.

.

It was official. There was going to be a war.

Two days after Y/N and Harry had come home, the news had travelled to all high and low courts that The High Queen of Theros had declared war against Isolde to avenge the deaths of her husband and her consultant. Y/N had faith in her well-trained army as well as Lance’s for they had all expected this outcome. Her father had been well-prepared for this. Nevertheless, this wasn’t at all what Y/N wanted.

The night before the battle, it snowed thickly outside. The castle was too quiet. It was as if the universe was holding its breath for the bloodbath tomorrow.

Y/N rose from the soaking tub. Jo helped her slip on a thick robe, and she padded on her bare feet across the fire-warmed stone to the lone mirror. Using her palm to wipe away a bit of steam, she tilted my cheek and observed the faintly red and bruised skin along her chest and the corner of her mouth. She’d got them from the fall off the cliff; they were barely noticeable now. Sometimes she missed that feeling of free-falling to her possible death. If it hadn’t been for the people she’d leave behind, she would have chosen the easy way out.

Was it easy, though?

Death.

It sounded easy if the choice was given to you. However, her death would only prove Calanthe right. That she was destined to receive the same fate as the men in her bloodline. And she didn’t want to be associated with their crimes and weaknesses. If she were to die, she’d die brave and honoured, holding her sword.

Blinking, she caught Jo’s dreadful eyes looking back at her in the mirror. “I’m scared, Y/N,” Jo muttered as she twisted the towel she was holding.

Y/N turned around. “Don’t be scared. We’ll be fine.” She didn’t know that for sure, but she’d say anything to put her friend at ease. It didn’t work, though.

“If they took the castle, what would happen to me?” Jo asked, her forehead creased. “I’d surely die. I cannot protect myself.”

“I won’t let them take the castle.” Y/N mustered an encouraging smile as she took Jo’s hand. “And you can protect yourself, Jo. I’ve shown you how to use a dagger—”

“Being shown the basics of how to use a blade and using it on another living person are two different things.” Jo pulled her hand back. “I would’ve stood there and screamed.”

“You would’ve defended yourself,” Y/N said, this, she genuinely believed. “I’ve seen how vicious you get when Harry ate your last piece of pie.”

The skin around Jo’s eyes crinkled as she giggled. “I would duel him to the death for that delicious cake.”

A short laugh burst from Y/N. “Just imagine all the attackers as Harry trying to steal your last piece of pie and you’ll be good.”

They laughed about it together and pretended that it was just a joke. In reality, Y/N knew Jo had a good reason to be scared, as was she. She’d failed to save Jo once. How could she be sure she could succeed this time? There was no witch to help her. She’d have to do this on her own.

.

.

.

Sweat dampened Harry’s skin as he dipped down and kicked out. Caught off guard, Lance staggered to the side and froze before he could start striking back. His gaze dropped to where Harry held the dagger to his throat. The corners of his lips lowered.

Harry smirked. “I win.”

“It’s not about winning.” Lance scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s about surviving.”

“Isn’t that winning, though?” Harry lowered the dagger and stepped back.

Lance shot him a glare and sheathed the dagger at his hip. “The battle tomorrow isn’t a game.”

“I know that.” Harry put away his blade. “But I still won.”

“Boys, can you stop being boys for a moment?”

They both whipped around to find Y/N standing on the steps in her white fur coat, staring out at the yard.

“She’s talking to you,” Harry and Lance said to each other at the same time

Y/N marched up to them. Her face scrunched up like an angry teacher as she regarded them both. “You two are aware that we’re heading to battle at dawn, right?”

Lance’s eyes widened as he aggressively pointed his hand at Harry. “I’ve been trying to tell him!”

Y/N crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Harry, who put on a grin. “I’ll be in serious fighting mode at dawn.”

She rolled her eyes. Her lips arched faintly. Harry knew that she knew he was just trying to keep everyone calm and in good spirits. Deep down, he was a bundle of nerves. He hadn’t been sleeping since they’d returned from the border. Whenever he closed his eyes, he’d see death. He wasn’t afraid of dying. But if he died, he couldn’t protect her. There would still be Lance, but he couldn’t count on anyone else but him and herself to keep her safe at this point.

The three of them headed back inside. Y/N stopped Lance when he was about to retreat to his chambers. “Come to the throne room and drink with me,” she said. “Both of you.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get drunk before a battle,” Lance said.

Harry and Y/N exchanged the same kind of look. To Lance, Harry said, “We’re not drinking to get drunk. Besides, this might be the only chance we get to drink together.”

Lance flicked his gaze between Harry and Y/N before throwing his head back and exhaling sharply. “You two are unbelievable.”

Y/N laughed as she slipped her arm around Lance’s and tugged him along. Strangely, Harry felt fine with it. Maybe knowing this could be the last night of his life had made him more sensible. He would think about what she’d said on the night she’d asked him to marry her. About how she loved Lance even though it wasn’t the same way she loved Harry. He would look out for Kenny, too, even though Kenny and Stefan were married and had a baby together. While Lance’s feelings were not reciprocated, Harry knew he’d still jump in front of an arrow for Y/N.

“Here’s to us staying alive,” Y/N said, raising her cup. “Long live the Queen.”

Lance chuckled as he lifted his. “Long live the King.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Long live Harry.” And chugged the wine from his cup.

Y/N sat on her throat while Harry and Lance sat on the step on either side of her. She stared thoughtfully into her cup as she took a deep breath. “I want you to promise me one thing.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m proposing, Lance.”

“Well, I have a feeling that I won’t like it,” Lance said and poured himself some more wine. Harry gestured for Y/N to continue anyway.

“If you see me having trouble on the battlefield,” she said, “just know I can get myself out of it. I want you to mind your own business, watch your own back unless I scream for help. Do not try to help me and get yourself killed.”

Lance shook his head. “Y/N, you know I can’t promise you that.”

“You must.”

“You’re not giving me orders. We’re equals.”

Y/N let out a soft breath. “I’m not giving you orders, Lance. I’m asking you.”

Harry could see Lance softened at once. The King averted his eyes and stared down at his cup. “I promise,” he replied weakly.

It was enough for Y/N. She turned to Harry. Forcefully, he nodded and gave her his word.

[thisiswhatwereupagainst]

616 Donald Pierce Part Four: The Shadow King, the New Mutants, the Young X-Men, and whether he can pee

Pierce's first appearance in the 2000s is in the X-treme X-Men 2001 annual. It's a very minor role though. The main bad guy of this issue is the Shadow King, who, if you didn't know, is a disembodied psychic consciousness who needs to take posession of others in order to interact with the physical world. He picks Pierce for this, in order to use his Reavers to attack the X-Men, and because his primary target is Rogue, who he wants to corrupt into his Shadow Queen and gain access to all the stored powers she has, and being in the body of Pierce will make him immune to her touch since he's largely robotic. Pierce doesn't even get a speaking part, he's just a flesh suit for the Big Bad, but he does get to look hella creepy with the Shadow King starts warping his features while creeping on Rogue. After the Shadow King's defeat, Rogue dumps him at the cops. Not one of Pierce's greater moments. I mean, he's regularly a loser, but this is fucking exceptional even for him. I have a really perverse curiosity about how things would have been for Pierce if the Shadow King had retained posession of him. See, the Shadow King is addicted to eating. Any time he has prolonged posession of a host, they usually become hugely obese because of this. And...we see Pierce is able to eat, but like...would that work with him? Can a cyborg get fat? I guess it depends on what parts of him are still fleshy, and like I said, that tends vary WIDELY at different points and is pretty ambiguous. But, yeah, I wanna know. While his debut in the new millennium is minor, Pierce features pretty largely as the bad guy in the 2003-2004 New Mutants series. Guess what, he still REALLY HATE MUTANTS! Which...okay, not surprising. He's now out of jail and looking for new Reavers, and is holding a meeting of regular humans who just hate mutants and are interested in signing up with a gross hate group. He encourages them, of course, to become cyborgs too, claiming this is their best best to combat the super-powers of mutants. While I do think he wants these people to kill as many mutants as possible, I also think it's a “misery loves company” thing, but more on that in my upcoming section on his psyche. Anyway, he's kidnapped the father of Sofia Mantega, one of the new students at Xavier, in order to lure the X-Men into a trap. Karma and Danielle Moonstar (two of the original New Mutants, now grown to adulthood and teachers at the Xavier's School) arrive along with some of the kids to rescue him. During this, one of the recently recruited would-be Reavers, Josh Foley, discovered, ironically, that he himself was a mutant, a healer. He got to put his talents to good use when Pierce stabbed one of the mutant kids, Laurie Collins aka Wallflower. In retaliation for her apparent death, her classmate Wither, who had a death-touch ability, touched Pierce to kill him. And since Pierce started to deteriorate, I guess he does have organics left in him after all! Pierce reached out to Josh, begging him for help, because I guess mutants are okay if they can save your life when you need it, but Josh instead chose to heal Laurie. Moonstar, meanwhile, had to force Wither to let Pierce go by using her own abilities. Josh left the scene, not ready to join a “mutie” school, though he would join by the end of the issue and would become the student known as Elixir. As for Pierce, they left him in his pretty fucked-up state, with all his remaining flesh decayed right off his metal bones...but if there's one thing this guy is good at, it's recovering from a fucked up state!

Pierce was imprisoned in The Cage, a facility used to contain supervillains, where an energy field kept his cybernetics turned off except for life support, leaving him barely alive. And soon, it wouldn't be even “barely” anymore, as he was scheduled for the death penalty in a month. This is the first time we get to meet any family of Pierce, his nephew Justin, who visits him. So Pierce must have a brother or sister! Justin is an FBI agent with the Metahuman Crimes Division who tells him that if he testifies against Wither (who was being accused of other murders) then his sentence would be changed to life without parole. Pierce agreed, but with the additional condition that he be transferred to an American prison (The Cage is an international facility built on an island in the Pacific Ocean) While Pierce was being transferred to the JFK airport, he killed his FBI guards, but left Justin alive because “Unlike you, I value family” (he had earlier said that Justin wasn't a “real nephew” because if he was, he would have helped him escape The Cage) This is a really interesting thing coming from Pierce, because it's the only time he ever shows mercy or anything resembling any traits that AREN'T terrible. I wish we learned more about his family, since clearly they matter a lot to him. Pierce got back in contact with the Reavers, telling them they could now attack the “mutant enclave” aka the school, which was currently in a very vulnerable state (read: total shambles yet AGAIN) and that if they succeeded, they would prove themselves worthy of receving cyberneticenhancements like himself. They also brought Pierce some skin to get grafted back on his face. I really don't wanna know how they did that or where they got it. Since Pierce thanks them “for bringing me my skin back” maybe they just cloned it from some old tissue of his or something. That's the least awful option so I choose to go with it for my guess. Because seriously, the number of times this guy gets blown up or ripped apart or skinned or so on, I think he just must have a fucking stash of cloned flesh and organs somewhere to keep having anything human left to him at all, there's no other explanation. Long story short, he gets his ass handed to him. Moonstar bodyslams him. Cannonball blasts through his big knife arm thing. And Magma blasted his nice new skin off with some fireballs and we see that a cyborg can lose consciousness! ...I know even the biggest and baddest villains still lose nigh-every time, but Pierce just always seems to fail particularly hard. I think that's why he's endearing to me. Lots of people love trash villains, but I have a thing for trash LOSER villains in particular. Justin Pierce says the FBI will make sure that Pierce stays locked up for good this time but LOL OF COURSE THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN They don't even bother to explain how or when Pierce escaped this time, because at this point it really doesn't matter. All we know is that Pierce shows up in 2005 wanting to take over the Hellfire Club again and get revenge on Shaw, and he's built himself some new cybernetic mooks he calls The Cleansing Crew. And proving he hasn't learned shit, he's fucking dumb enough to attack Shaw, Tessa, Sunspot, Bishop, Storm, and Wolverine all at once. Admittedly, he does have some defenses against them---bullets designed to counteract Logan's healing factor, modifications that make him immune to Storm's lightning strikes, and blue laser claws to cut Shaw with in a way so he can't absorb the energy—but none of this saves him from SEBASTIAN SHAW PUNCHING HIS GODDAMN HEAD OFF THAT'S RIGHT, NOT ONLY DOES PIERCE LOSE HIS HEAD LITERALLY ONCE AGAIN, IT GOES BOUNCING ACROSS THE FREAKING PAVEMENT LIKE A BASKETBALL! Have I mentioned I love Sebastian Shaw? Because I love Sebastian Shaw. He is always 200% done with Pierce's bullshit and ready to do something awful to him, it's great. Seriously, if Pierce can't learn not to fuck with the X-Men, you think he'd at least learn not to fuck with Sebastian Shaw. In 2008 he shows up in the third series of X-Force. As with the X-treme X-men annual, this time he does not go after the X-Men by choice, but is a forced pawn for another baddy. Dude is just minding his own business getting his cybernetics updated in Prague because someone (he does not know who) has been chasing him across two continents and HE'S PRETTY SCARED. But they catch up with him and, at the point of several very large guns, tell him that “your presence has been requested.” I would like to add that Pierce is wearing a rather fetching brocade vest; yet more longing for his Hellfire Club days perhaps? Anyway, these people are The Purifiers, led by Bastion, and they are gathering up all the most famous and accomplished of mutant-haters.  What for? The hurt and kill mutants, of course! Now, I'm sure Pierce and the rest would very happily do this willingly, but Bastion nonetheless infected them all with the Technarch transmode virus...I guess I can see why. It puts them under his control just in case they get ideas about who's in charge, it grants them the very valuable power to nigh-instantly repair damage to themselves, and it also brought those among them who were dead, such as Stryker and Graydon Creed, back to life. Pierce, of course, wasn't happy about it, screaming  “You don't know who you're dealing with! I have friends in powerful places do you hear me?!” I'm sure you do, precious. And his apprehension proved to be correct, as apparently the process was rather painful. After this...reprogramming, if you will...Pierce is DEFINITELY wearing frilly Hellfire garb. I can only guess this is his choice since I don't think Bastion would give a shit about dressing him in it. We also learn the kill count for each of these bigots, and for Pierce it's 348. I'm not sure if that's by his own hands directly or includes those who died at the hands of his minions and hate groups as well. I think it might be an indirect count thing, because one of them, Bolivar Trask, inventor of the Sentinels, is credited with 16 thousand something kills, and I don't think he ever hurt a single mutant PERSONALLY himself. By the way, only Trask and Stryker have a higher count than Pierce in the group. X-Force storms the place, and many of the nameless human Purifiers are killed, but Pierce and the other Technarch-infected bigots don't get into the fighting, Wolverine just glimpses them while battling Bastion. I guess Bastion didn't want to risk damaging his new toys too soon, since when that happens he whisks them away in a bigass jet. They proceeded to begin to plan their plots about mutants. Plan their plots? Is that redundant? I guess I just should say “plan�� or “plot” not both. Anyway! Pierce was tasked with going after young mutants, which seem to be his specialty—TV Tropes points out he's probably afraid of what adults will do to him. Which, between Shaw and Cable and the X-Men, he has good reason for. Cut to the first issue of Young X-Men, in which Cyclops assembles a team of Xavier's students to personally train:  Dust, Ink, Rockslide, and Wolf Cub, plus Blindfold because Rockslide wouldn't join without her. He takes them to subterranean ruins beneath the wreckage of the school, which he calls the Danger Cave, where he trains them to take down the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants...which, bizarrely, he claims are the adult New Mutants (Moonstar, Magma, etc) Surprise, it turns out that this “Cyclops” is actually Donald Pierce using an image inducer, trying to once again use child mutants to kill adults just like he did in the original New Mutants story! I kinda like that, haha. Both because it's win-win for Pierce no matter which side dies (since either way, mutants are killed) and because...like, he tried to use the New Mutants like this, now he's using the next generation against them the same way, it's a good low-key callback to their first confrontation. Naturally, Pierce is foiled, but one of the kids, Wolf Cub, dies at his hands. With his dying breath, he begs his enraged teammate Rockslide not to kill Pierce, because X-Men don't kill. During the fight, Pierce says he going to “use your skull as a latrine” to Rockslide and like...how? Does Pierce still pee? I guess if he still eats, he still excretes. These are the serious questions. And these are the IMAGES for this post! ETA: Two additional images from his fight with the Young X-Men!