#if I do feel free to make jokes about your Wicked Uncle

[modmad]

Uncle Mod! I Transed my Gender and stole your Surname. I'm a Jolley now. You're my actual uncle. Kisses!

WHAT

[slashingdisneypasta]

Total Drama Villains x Reader || Drabble Set

Plot: You forget to take a towel to the shower and only realise after the shower, so you open the window to stick your head out and ask whoever's out there (Hoping someone is out there) to grab you one but to your chagrin- there's just a villain.

Includes: Chris, Heather, Mal and Scott.

Warnings: Mmmm, I dont think so. Swearing? A kiss?

~~~

All:

You slowly look around the room, very very aware of the fact that you're naked and cold in a room that does not have a great lock on it. "Ohhhhhh no." The words come out low and steady... but are just brimming with panic.

No. Towel.

No towel!!

Finally you gasp, covering the bottom half of your face with your hands and looking at the benches and the sinks in dread. You accidentally came in here without a towel!!

The sudden sound of footsteps out the back of the cabin rips a gasp from your throat and you lunge at the window, unlatching the lock and opening it to see who it is. Before you even stick your head out, you're calling for whoever it to stop. Please. Hold on! I need your help!

Chris McLean:

*You are an adult camper.

When you actually see who's standing out there, you groan. Chris McLean stands outside on the grass, hands in his pockets and an intrigued look in his eyes. He know's he's about to be amused, or he's going to amuse himself depending on what kind of trouble you're in- or what kind of help you apparently need.

"What's up?~"

"Nevermind."

"Oh no no no! Come on, you can confide in Uncle Chris, cant you?"

A whine tumbles out of you. Uncle Chris?? Grooooooooss. He see's and acknowledges your disgusted reaction to him calling himself that, but just giggles. He doesn't leave, to your utter annoyance.

What other choice do you have?? Rolling your eyes, you look down at your feet instead of meeting his beady eyes and wiggle your toes. And mutter suuuuper quietly, half hoping he doesn't hear you. "I forgot to bring a towel... and I really need one... " And, this part you say especially quietly. For seriously asking Chris fucking McLean for a hand would be akin to letting your dignity pack its bags and fly the coop. "... and would you please get one for me... "

"... Sorry, I didn't catch that. What didja say?"

Oh god. A little louder, you say shortly. "... I forgot a towel... "

Chris smirks at that, rolling back on the feels of his feet. "And? What would you like from me, Y/N?"

Finally too frustrated to keep playing this stupid game with the show's host, you snap your eyes up to his and cross your arms. "Fine! Damnit. Get me a towel, please."

Immediately, a cat like grin slowly spreads across Chris' face. Its the most evil thing you have ever seen.

"Now why would I do that when I could get Chef here to send in a buncha rabid bats with you and flush you out?" Christ teases - no, threatens. But then again, does he know the difference in the first place? - , that famous, alabaster white, terror instilling grin on his face as usual. "Now that's, good TV!"

You groan, head falling back on your neck, in frustration. "Chrr-ris!!"

"Ha ha! Well? What do you expect?" You cant argue with that, but you cans till groan again. "Okay, fine. I'll get you a towel! But what will you do for me, heh? Nothing comes for free."

"Oh, don't I know it. I've been on this show for 3 seasons now." For some reason.

"Heh heh."

"Fine, I'll... " Ugh, something for Chris... You blow air out of your cheeks slowly, in thought. What would Chris like? Well, he'd sure get kick out of you getting one of your friends hurt but that's sure as hell not happening. Finally, after a few moments, you get an idea. And scowl. "I'll be sure to drum up some drama for you. Good TV, right?"

"For sure! Promise?~"

Sighing, you lean tiredly on the window sill. "Oh, I cross my heart and hope to die." You promise him like he's a child, which he basically is. Chris McLean has got the maturity level and the intelligence package of a 7 year old on crack.

"Wicked! Heh heh, this'll be good. Okay, hang tight. I'll be back."

You smirk at his retreating back.

~

When he finally gets back and hands you a towel - a much nicer towel then what you and the other campers have been using. Which is nice? But also, you cant help but worry about what kind of strings might be attached to it, - through a crack in the door, you carefully wrap it around your body and tightly tuck it in.

"I'll want that towel back" He snaps, cranky. Why?? He could've just gone and gotten you your towel! "I imported that from Fiji!"

Of course he did.

Now you take a deeeeeeep breath, gathering all your courage, and killing the butterflies reeking havoc in your stomach. Then open the door again and grab hold of the front of Chris' signature teal shirt and wrench him close before he can walk too far off.

And you smash your lips together and slam your eyes tightly closed.

When you pull back from the kiss - a horrible, unpleasant, bad kiss, - you immediately wipe your mouth with your arm and let him go. But when you reveal your mouth again, you're for damn sure smirking at the stunned man. "Is that dramatic enough for you, Chris? A camper and the host? Scandalous- I bet we'll be front page news."

Then quickly you lock yourself inside the bathroom again, not really caring for his reaction- which only comes, finally, minutes later when you're half way dressed.

"DAMN IT Y/N!!"

Heather:

"Hm." Heather crosses her arms, an evil smirk on her lips- opportunity has knocked on her door. Or, the inside of the shower cabin. "You need something from me. Well! What will you do for me return? Hm?"

As expected. "I will vote for whoever you want me to at 2 different instances of your choice going forward. Except for myself, I wont vote myself out."

She thinks for a moment, but definitely looks pleased. "Three, different instances of my choice."

Fucks sake- "Fine! Just- please! I'm getting cold and one of the boys could come in here at any time and see me butt ass naked!!"

Uncrossing her arms and setting her hands on her hips instead, Heather laughs. "Oh- one of these boys? Shower? Haha. Have you smelled them??"

You blush darkly at her joking with you; At your worry but not your expense, before shaking your head of silly feelings and usher the pretty girl Heather, forward. "Go! Go! Get my towel already."

"Be right back." She rolls her eyes, heading off.

~

When she gets back, she reaches up to the window with the towel and you gratefully take it, beginning to dry off any drips from your body and get dressed as quickly as possible. "Thank you Heather!!"

"Mhm, yeah. Sure."

A few minutes later when you leave the door, Heather's waiting for you on the porch and you basically have a small stroke- jesus christ, why is she there!? STILL!?

"Oh, relax. I'm just cashing in some of your part of the bargain." She sneers, walking closer to you and pressing a sharp fingernail into your chest. "Dont forget, you owe me now."

"I remember Heather, we did this like 10 minutes ago."

"Good." She smiles, a tint of evil to it still. Pleasantly surprised that you're being so obedient. She leans back. "Okay, so Gwen's got to go. You got that? She's out. Vote for her and you're third done with your debt to me."

"Yes ma'am." You smirk, brushing by her and stalking off back to your cabin to put away your things.

Heather watches, hands on her hips and her own smirk on her lips. You might just be useful out of this bunch of losers. Not quite a diamond in the rough, but... better, at least. For sure. "Hm."

Mal:

"Oh- Mike!" You exclaim excitedly as soon as you see the lanky, dark haired boy. What luck!!

But then he slowly turns around; A dark, sinister grin on his face and hair over one eye. And your heart immediately drops.

This is not Mike. Neither is it Chester, Svetlana, Vito or Manitoba- any of which would have been just fine alternatives for this moment.

This has to be fucking Mal. You've met him before, and absolutely nevermind on the luck front.

"Nope." Yep- the grizzly, deep voice that responds to you can belong to no one other then Mike's chaotic evil alter. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You continue to chant curses in your head as he turns around fully and comes forward, looking up with evil glinting in his eyes at you like a twisted Flynn Rider to your Rapunzel.

The kind that makes you rather stay inside your tower- its safer here then out there with him. You don't go out to meet the rabid pit bull!!

"Ummm, nevermind! Go about your business, I'm fine here. See ya!"

"Oh no. What'd you want from little Mikey?" He asks, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side, cruelly inquisitive. You chew on your bottom lip. Damn it; You've peaked his interest. Fuck.

"Um... " The sound comes out quiet and insure as you look down at the grass before his feet instead of his face. You're so nervous. "Well, I... I forgot my towel before I took my shower, and uh... I was just gonna ask him if he could go get me one."

For a moment, he's silent. Your gaze flickers up to his face to see an utterly wolfish look on his face, eyes gleaming with mischief before averting your eyes again to the grass.

Then a loud puff of hard, unpleasant laughter escapes him. He doubles over, holding his stomach as he guffaws at your embarrassing situation. You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

"Oh shut up," You snap, bravely- making him cut off his laughter immediately and look at you. You dare to fucking talk to him like that? "Come on, go get me a towel, please!! I'll owe you one."

After a moment, he stands up straight again and crosses his arms. Yes, he could do something horrible to you right now to teach you not to talk back to him; but it looks like you're going to struggle without his help. All he has to do is watch! "Hmm, nope!"

"Come on!"

"Not gonna happen."

"Ugh." You groan, leaving the window and Mal and plopping down on a bench. Fucking bastard.

This is so awkward. Especially since you know he's still out there!! And he could send someone in at any time.

... Minutes later, and you're still dripping wet but now freezing fricken cold, a towel is flung in through the still open window and lands on the wet floor near your feet. Your eyebrows fly up your forehead, as you look from it in surprise and to the window.

Mal's voice calls through it. "There! Its no fun if you just sit and bear your punishment." Huff. You can just imagine the cute boy - the look works for Mike, but is just very odd on Mal, - crossing his arms and setting his jaw, or even pouting. His voice just sound sooo frustrated. "I'll get you another time, anyway. Everyone will go down, eventually."

"Oh... mhm, oh sure." I mean, I can at least listen to his evil babble since he got me a towel, you think as you start drying yourself down and getting dressed.

A moment after you've got your shirt on, the door is kicked open and Mal stands on the threshold, making you jump. "Jesus christ!- "

"Kiss thank you?"

"Get outta here!" Absolutely not!

Scott:

Peering out from the window, you nearly miss the boy leant up against the cabin beneath you, in fact you would have- if it weren't for his bright orange hair. You gasp, unintentionally getting his attention and smiling brightly when he looks up to find you. "Scott!"

A confused, yet somehow still evil expression paints his face. "Y/N?? What are you doing?"

"Well farm-boy, how do you feel about giving a lady a hand??"

Scott snorts, getting off the wall and stepping back to see you properly. "Lady? I don't see any lady here."

Oh- Bastard. You look back into the bathroom before disappearing from the window for a moment before returning, and promptly clobbering him with an empty shampoo bottle. "You see her now!?"

"Ugh... yeah." He grumbles more malleably now, much more open to suggestion as he rubs his forehead. "Sure, now I see her... ow."

Now you feel a little bad. He looks so pitiful when he's in pain... and yes he's a rat but... its still not okay to hurt someone. You aren't Chris. And also you're getting colder and colder as the water drips unimpeded down your skin and maybe its making you soft. "Ohh... okay, I'm sorry."

He glances up at you, surprised at your apology. "Ahh, no problem, I guess... " Did someone just apologise for whacking him on this show? He crosses his arms, raising a curious look to your disembodied head. "Uhh, what'd you need a hand, with?"

"I... kinda... forgot a towel... could you please go get one for me??"

For a moment you watch his eyes narrow and a wicked grin flicker at the corners of his mouth and get anxious that he's going to ask for something in return- before he rolls his eyes and just shrugs, turning and heading off to the cabin. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Be right back- try not to gather too much attention, haha."

As he walks off, you duck under the window again, sighing in so much relief. "Thanks, Scott!"

~

When he returns, you're waiting at the door and crack it open just enough to get the towel from him immediately- which you quickly wrap around yourself comfortably and sigh. "Thank you so much!"

"Hm. No problem." He huffs, wondering why the hell he did this for you anyway and crossing his arms again.

From inside, you carefully ask: "Are you gonna get weird if I hug you now?"

Immediately Scott's ears go bright red and he quickly loses every little bit of cool-guy vibe from a moment ago. "I-In your towel?? N-No!! I mean- yes!" He rubs the back of his neck, looking away from the door like its you, or he'll accidentally spontaneously develop x-ray vision and damnit, he's a gentleman. "I mean... " Or at least he tries to be.

Grinning, because Scott's unexpectedly cute now that you've flustered him, you quickly open the door, hug him quick, then close the door again and shout 'BYE'.

[griffintail]

Hey Griffin I love your work, your writing is amazing, and I was wondering if I could spare you an angsty request: Parental Tommy falls into deep grief after their child, Reader, goes into prison to tell Dream off for blowing up their home and hurting their father and Uncle Tubbo, and gets killed by Dream. Maybe how Wilbur and Schlatt react to Reader in the afterlife, and what Tommy does to try and get them back. (Inspired by this week's streams)

I went farther than with this than I planned to originally. Lol. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

Quiet Uptown

Pairings: Parental! Tommy x Teenage F! Reader

Warnings: Death, Blood, Mentions of Violence, Angst!!, afterlife, swearing

A/N: (F/L) is first letter of your first name because that’s just a Tommy thing.

        Sam hesitated when (Y/N) had stepped into his prison that day.

        The young sixteen-year-old girl stood there; her eyes filled with determination as she waited for Sam to speak.

        “What are you doing here?” Sam asked, standing up. “Does Tommy know you’re here?”

        “No.” She answered truthfully. “He won’t realize I’m gone for maybe two hours. He wouldn’t ever let me near here but I want to give Dream a piece of my mind after everything he’s put my family through. Dad and I both own only one life after everything he’s one and I want to let him know how badly he lost.”

        “I…Don’t think this is wise. You’re just a kid.”

        “I’m more than a kid! Everyone seems to forget I fought for Pogtopia at the age of thirteen and lost a life for it. I went and helped dad every day in his exile when no one else would! Dream killed me for that bullshit and I refuse to let him think he has control over me and my family anymore.”

        Sam could see it was more than that. She wanted to know that Dream no longer held control over her and her family. Dream had taken everything from them. Their nation, their family members, their two spare lives, their friends. Now he was locked away after Tommy won and she needed to know he couldn’t control them anymore.

        “Alright. Well, I need you to read this carefully and sign it.” Sam slipped into his role as Warden.

        He walked (Y/N) through the clearance steps and lead her down through the prison.

        Dream was a broken man. Sam made sure his spirit was broken and the masked man had long since stopped trying to escape. The poor young girl needed closure.

        …Sam was overconfident in his abilities.

        “If you need anything, call for me,” Sam told her and she nodded.

        And she was let into the cell.

        The man of the hour was surprised by his visitor, picking himself off the floor as he grinned behind his mask.

        “Well, well, well. It’s little Innit.”

        “Shut up.” (Y/N) immediately said. “You’ll listen to me today.”

        Dream held up his hands, giving a laugh. “Alright. Let’s hear what you have to say.”

        (Y/N) looked around the small cell and was reminded of her father’s claustrophobia…that Dream caused.

        “It’s fitting for you to be in here. Trapped in a box. Your life thrown in a hole, waiting to be destroyed.” (Y/N) said. “You did a lot to my family Dream, you hurt them, you killed them. There are people out there that say you don’t deserve this but I know everything you’ve done. You’re going to rot in here forever if it’s the last thing I do.”

        “You’ve got a pretty big ego there.”

        “You’re one to talk! You took everything from us because you couldn’t handle that we took away even a bit of your power!” She took a deep breath to calm herself and Dream saw the Tommy in her. “You tried to kill Tubbo, you were going to used what everyone loved against them. You’re a psychopath and you can’t be let out.”

        “People can change though. I can change and get out.”

        “You’ll never change! You’re talking bullshit and I know! Dad knows it! Sam, Tubbo, Quackity! You’re just bullshit! You’re a green little bitch and you’ll never get out! You can’t hurt us anymore. We’re in control now and we’re free from you forever.” She told him, getting in his masked face without thinking.

        She never meant to go so far into the cell…Sam had asked her not to…

        Dream’s grin turned wicked, (Y/N) unable to see it but she felt something in the air change and she paled slightly as she took a step back towards the netherite barrier realizing how far she went.

        “I might not be able to hurt anyone…outside!”

        “SAM!” She screamed, bolting for the barrier…but Dream was faster…

        “DREAM! DON’T!!” Sam commanded as he tried to bring the lava down as fast as he could! …

        …

        “Come on Tubbo. You’re getting shit at this.” Tommy laughed as he knocked Tubbo’s wooden training sword out of his hand.

        “You’re such an arse.” Tubbo huffed, going over to get some water.

        Tommy grinned. He had missed this, just being to train with Tubbo for the hell of it. (Y/N) said she needed to do something Ranboo, so it felt like he was missing something during the training but he was glad to know she was able to go out in the world without him worrying. Dream wasn’t out there anymore.

        The taller man was practicing his swings when Tubbo heard both their walkies beep. Someone must be calling them. Tubbo picked up his walkie, going to answer but his eyes went wide as he saw why the walkie had beeped. He dropped it, taking a step back, making Tommy look over in confusion.

        “What’s wrong with you?” Tommy asked, going over to see what it was.

        “T-Tommy, don’t—” Tubbo started but Tommy had already picked up the walkie.

        Tommy entire world stopped as he stared at the words on the screen.

        (Y/N) was slain by Dream

        “This—This is a stupid fucking joke.” Tommy tried to say, looking at Tubbo.

        But Tubbo had both his hands over his mouth as he was already starting to cry.

        “She…He’s in prison!” He shouted as he went for his own walkie. “This is shit joke Tubbo!”

        He couldn’t breathe as his walkie displayed the same message. It felt like the world around him was getting smaller as he couldn’t think of anything but those five words.

        “It’s not true!” Tommy screamed before snatching up his gear.

        He ran out the door to find it raining. His trident came off his back and was soaring through the air after throwing it through the rain. There was no fucking way, she was with Ranboo! Dream was rotting in a cell! He made sure of it!

        His baby should be as safe as she could be!

        Mud splashed all over him as he landed in front of the prison complex, soaking wet but he felt so numb. He couldn’t feel anything. He didn’t care about anything else, he just wanted to know who was playing this cruel joke.

        “SAM!” Tommy stormed in.

        Sam clutched the figure to him as he made his way past the empty prison cells hearing Tommy’s voice.

        He failed…

        This was all his fault…

        Sam stared at the last door where Tommy shouted his name again before taking a deep breath and opening it.

        Tommy snapped his head over and his entire world collapsed as Sam held the bloody figure in his arms. Their blood was coating Sam’s armor along with their own clothes.

        “No, no…NO! NO!!” Tommy shouted as he gripped his head taking a step back.

        That couldn’t be her, it just couldn’t be! She shouldn’t be here! She wasn’t here! It was all a…a dream…a nightmare!

        “Tommy.” Sam let out a heartbroken voice.

        Tommy looked up and looked to her neck. The (F/C) bandana was undeniable…

        Taking a shaky step forward, Tommy took the girl from Sam before collapsing to the ground, sobbing when he saw what Dream had done to her. He rocked, back and forth as he held her close.

        “Please…please little (F/L)…come back to me. I’m here now.” Tommy choked out his words as he stared down at the bloody girl. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Please come back (Y/N).”

        He put his forehead on hers as his tears stained her face.

        He let out a heartbroken scream!

        And it echoed all throughout the prison, making Dream’s maniacal laughter continue in his cell.

        …

        “Who’s this?” A voice asked.

        (Y/N) groaned at the feeling of a pounding headache before looking up.

        “(Y/N), I didn’t expect to see you here first.” She heard a much more familiar voice.

        She looked up seeing her Uncle Wilbur grinning at her.

        “W-Wilbur?”

        “Ayup.” He chuckled. “Nice to see you again kid.”

        “Where…Where…” She looked around at the darkness, startling when she saw the familiar ram man and scooted away. “Schlatt.”

        “Hey, brat. Nice to see you again.” He grinned. “Welcome to the afterlife.”

        “I’m…I died?” Her breathing picked up.

        Her head started to hurt and she gripped onto it as she remembered. The blood…the pain…daddy save me!

        She startled feeling a hand on her shoulder, seeing it was Schlatt as Wilbur stood there with his hands in his coat.

        “Yeah, it’s going to be pretty hard.” Wilbur shrugged. “We’ll…show you around.”

        Wilbur laughed as Schlatt rolled his eyes.

        “Come on brat.” He offered her a hand. “We’ll explain it all to you.”

        …

        Tubbo was waiting at Tommy’s base, his own heart shattering seeing his best friend sniffling as he wiped away his tears while covered in blood.

        “No.” Tubbo breathed.

        Tommy couldn’t think at the moment. The world seemed unreal. He couldn’t feel the rain hitting his body or the cold starting to set into him.

        “My little girl’s gone Tubbo.” He muttered.

        “I’m so sorry Tommy. What…what happened?” Tubbo asked.

        “I-I don’t know. I just…” Tommy put his hands through his hair, his breaths coming out short. “(Y/N)—She…Holy shit…My poor little (F/L)…”

        Tubbo came over putting his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. “Breathe Tommy.”

        “How?! My—She’s gotten! Beaten and blooded! She must have been terrified and I—I wasn’t there Tubbo!” Tommy shouted putting his hands over his face.

        “…What are you going to do?” Tubbo asked.

        Tommy rubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t think, I need…I need the night to get anything in me…”

        “Yeah, ok. I’ll stay.”

        “No, I…I really need some time alone right now,” Tommy told him.

        “…Ok. I’ll get a room at the hotel so I’ll be close by, ok?”

        “Yeah, alright,” Tommy muttered before pushing past into his house.

        Tubbo let tears roll down his cheeks before he looked at the prison, marching himself over.

        Tommy stood inside the house and…it felt so small and so quiet. He laughed bitterly to himself. Finally, it being quiet uptown made so much sense to him. Everything felt so dull and silent.

        Slowly, he went into his ender chest and pulled out his first disc. He stared down at it as he remembered finding (Y/N) after he found this disc. He ran a thumb over it as he remembered every time, he fought Dream for it till the final battle. He went to the bedroom, staring at the made bed across the room.

        He went to the jukebox and put the disc in as he sat on his bed staring at the empty one. His body broke down again as he cried into his hands.

        “If I had just kept the memories and you instead of this stupid disc you’d still be here!” He shouted to air. “I’m so sorry (Y/N)…I’m so sorry…”

        At the prison, Tubbo stormed in with a trident in hand.

        “What the hell happened?!” Tubbo demanded, Sam, sitting on his desk trying to process his own thoughts.

        “I was too late…” Sam muttered.

        “That answers nothing. What happened?!”

        “…She wanted to see Dream. She wanted closure after everything you’ve guys have been through…she was just a kid…and…”

        “Yeah, she was a kid, so why did you let her in?!”

        “Because she looked so broken. She wanted to see Dream couldn’t hurt her anymore. I-I-I thought I got the strength out of him! Then…she screamed for help…I tried to get in as fast as I could…he just laughed when I came in…”

        “…You shouldn’t have let her in.”

        Sam hung his low, knowing he was right.

        …

        (Y/N) sat watching the two men play solitaire.

        “Why’d you even go and see Dream?” Wilbur asked as he laid down an eight of spades on a nine of hearts.

        (Y/N) felt her throat tighten, it always making her feel weird when she did it past few days as she didn’t need to exactly breath.

        “I was having nightmares, Dream getting out and sit. I just…needed to see he was away, unable to hurt me.”

        Wilbur snorted and Schlatt punched him.

        “Shut the hell up man,” Schlatt told him.

        “Well, it obviously didn’t help, she’s here.” Wilbur rolled his eyes as Schlatt put down a five of diamonds. “And no punching, that’s round five.”

        (Y/N) breathing picked up and Schlatt huffed, throwing his cards down.

        “We’re not going to finish?” Wilbur questioned.

        “No, you’re driving us both nuts. Let’s go kid.” Schlatt hoisted her up and away, surprising her as that was the first time, he didn’t call her brat.

        (Y/N) glanced back seeing Wilbur continuing to play his game without them. She remembered Wilbur being insane before in Pogtopia. This was a whole new level.

        “We’ve been here for years,” Schlatt spoke, making her look at him. “He was nuts before; he’s even more fucked up now. I’m still more me because I’d rather sleep through this shit. You know the phrase I’ll sleep when I’m dead? That’s what I’m doing.” He grinned at his own joke.

        She snorted quietly, as she looked at her hands. “I just want to see my dad so bad…I lied to him as my last thing and…I miss him.”

        “I know kid. It’s hard for us to get down there though. I don’t even know how fuck face managed it.”

        “…Do you think he’s mad at me?” She asked.

        “No, I remember that stupid kid. If anything, someone probably had to hold him back, foaming at the mouth, from killing Dream himself with his bare hands. He wouldn’t be mad at you.”

        She smiled softly. She wished this had been president Schlatt and maybe everything would have been better. But Wilbur was right, L’Manberg needed to go, it corrupted everyone.

        …

        “Tommy,” Sam said as they stood in front of the lava wall.

        Four days had passed. Tommy had a funeral for his little girl and there had been gifts and tributes for her, but nothing made it, her. He felt like he was suffocating constantly and he couldn’t take it anymore. She had no ghost so Phil’s research would give him no help. But…there was one other thing.

        “You know what he’s going to ask for,” Sam spoke the obvious.

        “I know. He’s not going to get it.” Tommy said, his voice dead.

        Sam gripped the lever that would bring down the lava wall. “He hasn’t eaten in two days, he’ll be weak.”

        “Good. Now let me in.” Tommy stepped forward.

        Sam hesitated before pulling the lever. After a few minutes, Tommy was standing behind the netherite barrier. Dream grinned, his mask off as he stood up, holding his hands out.

        “The man of the hour! I’ve been waiting for you!” Dream laughed.

        The barrier dropped and Tommy walked in.

        “Bring her back.” Tommy simply stated.

        “Can’t without the book, you know what I’m going to need.”

        Tommy nodded, walking forward before hitting Dream with surprising force that sent him to the ground.

        “We’re…going to have a nice long chat,” Tommy told the surprised man in a monotone voice. “And it’s going to end with where you put that book or how to get my little girl back. So, let’s talk bitch.”

        Tommy would get her back. He wouldn’t let this be the end.

[marvelfansince08love]

Hey Neighbour! - Part 4

Word count: 4.5k 

Pairing: Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader 

Warning: Some sexual tension, mention of past break-ups. Fluff!!

A/N: I’ve finally finished this part lmao! Enjoy my loves <3 Your feedback means the world to me and I’m so happy so many of you are enjoying this series x

Part 1, 2, 3

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @creepingwolfberry @coconutlipss @saucy-sapphic @minavenable @pearplate @r0an0ke @mssallymckenna @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @venablemayfairgoode @veteranwerewolf95 @chewbacca0805 @pluied-ete @supremeinlilac @nyx-aira @witchxaf @black--widxw @fireflyglass @cordeliafoxxe @d14n4ol @bluevelvetbitxh

Gif credit to @thatsmypeach 💖

Part 4 

Days passed with only small glimpses of your endearing neighbour, with the upcoming re-election Ally had been busy most of the week campaigning in and around the city. Oz had come over with Ally’s permission after school to hang out with Amelia yesterday informing you of his mothers absence lately, you wanted to sigh in relief at his words growing anxious that your date planned with his mother might not go ahead. You were understanding of her job and debated rescheduling the date for when Ally wasn’t so stressed with work but the message left in the window late last night after you dropped Oz off with his babysitter settled your debate with yourself.

‘Sorry I’ve been so MIA this week. Can’t wait for Friday! X’

You had blushed ridiculously at her message, the warmth felt within your stomach growing as you thought about her thoughtful nature. Now it was the night before the supposed date and that warm feeling had changed to nervous butterflies as you eyed the two outfits chewing lightly on your bottom lip as you pondered on what to wear. 

“That’s a pretty dress, Mommy.” Amelia’s voice startles you out of your thoughts. Turning you grin at her fluffy pyjamas and princess crown that lays crooked on top of her hair as she holds tightly to her fairy wand, you gesture for her to enter the room where she hovers by the doorway. 

“What do you think, Munchkin?” you ask, pulling her in close to your side as her eyes glance between the outfits. She points her wand  confidently to the more formal attire nodding her head once to confirm her decision. 

“I’m trusting your judgment on this one, kid.” you murmur, bending slightly to kiss her tousled hair. “Come on you, let’s get you ready for bed.” you instruct, shaking your head at her put together attire for the evening narrowly avoiding a bop on the nose by her silver wand as she flaunts out of the room leaving trails of glitter from her magic wand.

Once Amelia is well tucked in and free from her fairy princess duties, you sit comfortably by her tucked in legs laughing as she pulls funny faces at you. 

“Alright your majesty, you’re going to close your eyes now and go to sleep.” she squints her eyes shut mockingly as you bop her nose making her giggle between yawns. Relaxing into her pillow she eyes you for a moment. 

“Do you like Ozzy’s Mommy?” her question makes you freeze in place as you try to find the right words. 

“I-uh yes I do, she’s lovely and has been very kind to us since we moved here,” 

“And she makes the best hot cocoa!” Amelia exclaims, before smacking her hands to her mouth shushing herself as you quiet giggle at her enthusiasm. 

‘Grandpa has some competition it seems’ you think amusingly before tucking her in further watching as her eyes fight to stay open. 

“She does make great hot chocolate,” you agree, before sitting in silence for a moment basking in your daughter's presence. 

“Do you like Miss. Ally like you liked my Mama?” you gape at her innocent tone, struggling to find the right way to answer her as truthfully as possible. 

 “Well, me and Ally are just friends and we enjoy hanging out with each other. I don’t love her like I did your Mama but how do you feel if I were to see Ally more often?” you tentatively ask, concerned that she might not like you seeing her new friends mom, especially if there were more potential dates in the future. 

Her lips twist in concentration as she ponders over your question before nodding grabbing hold of Mr. Bunny next to her cuddling him close. 

“I like Miss. Ally, Mommy. Are you going to take her out on a date? Uncle Rupie didn’t see me but he told Grandpa about a girl he took out on a date and she kissed him Mommy, yuck!” she confesses, her face scrunching in disgust as you match her horror. 

“Well Mommy needs to have a word with him about watching out for prying little ears huh?” you say out loud to yourself. Amelia nods in agreement not fully understanding the dynamic of adult conversations, especially where her uncle is involved. Kissing her nose you whisper good night and wish her the sweetest of dreams before making your way to your own room across the hall. 

Lying in your bed you watch the moon shine bright in the night sky, a soft smile appearing upon your lips. 

‘I’m going on a date with Ally Mayfair-Richards’ 

***

“Would you like more tea, Sir. Rupert?” Amelia politely asks her uncle who sits across from her, wearing his customised paper crown made by the princess herself. Matt holds out his tea cup accepting the tea offered by his only niece.

“Why thank you, Princess Amelia.” He thanks before taking a sip from his empty plastic cup. You lean against the doorframe wearing your outfit for the evening, grinning at the site before you. Amelia senses another presence in the room as her eyes clash with your own, her gasp alerting her uncle of your presence. 

“You look beautiful Mommy!” she gushes, moving to wrap her arms around your legs. Placing your hand against her back you thank her for the lovely compliment before raising an eyebrow at your brother. 

“Sir. Rupert huh?” you grin as he glares over towards you. 

“You tell anyone about this, I'll give your daughter up to the dragon,” he threatens playfully as you and Amelia gasp in horror. 

“I better come back here with my house still intact, you got it.” you warn, mainly to your brother as you raise a challenging eyebrow in his direction. Amelia looks up at you from her cuddling position. 

“I’ll look after him Mommy,” you crouch to cup her cheek, kissing her nose. 

“Thank you baby, I’ll come say good night later okay?” you inform as she nods acknowledging your words. Your brother scoffs from his seat at Amelia’s pink table. 

“Or good morning depending on how she reacts to that outfit,” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you shake your head disapprovingly. Amelia frowns at her uncle's confusing words wondering why you wouldn’t come home and say good night to her.

“You're silly Uncle Rupie,” 

“Yeah ‘Uncle Rupie,” you mock, sticking your tongue out at your annoying brother come babysitter. Hugging Amelia once more you bid your goodbyes and make your way downstairs just as the doorbell rings through the house. Hurrying over towards the door, you stop for a moment to steady yourself  before slowly opening the door. You breath hitches as you take in the powerful brunette dressing in black pants with a turtleneck tucked in them, her signature long coat in place as she shivers against the slight breeze, her brown eyes take in your attire with a slight glint. 

“You look beautiful,” she whispers, a subtle smirk appearing onto her pink lips. You fluster for a moment not used to such compliments as you appreciate her outfit once more. 

“So do you,” you murmur, feeling suddenly shy under her intense gaze. She holds out her hand for you to take which you accept willingly, her thumb brushing reassuringly across your skin soothing your nervousness almost instantly. 

“I haven’t done this in a while myself, I guess we’re both a little nervous.” she admits, a soft smile appearing onto her lips. You meet her gaze for a moment appreciating her honesty and understanding of the situation, your moment is ruined as the small quiet sounds of giggling from inside the house interrupts your private bubble. Ally reluctantly lets go of your hand and grins as her eyes surpass your form and towards the staircase where small and big feet stand as the mischievous pair try to subtly watch on. 

“Hi Amelia,” Ally calls out, amusement evident within her brown eyes as she glances briefly at you. You grin fondly as you hear the small voice of your daughter as she sheepishly waves from between the wooden posts at the top of the staircase banister. 

“Goodbye you two,” you call out, making your way out of the home shutting the door behind you in the process. 

“I’m sorry about that, my brother is worse than any child,” you laugh, feeling slightly embarrassed as you shuffle in place. Ally chuckles as she waves it off, tucking her hand into her coat pocket indicating for you to wrap your hand around her crooked elbow which you accept happily. 

“So Senator, where are we going? I don’t know if you know this but I’m new to town,” you tease, still curious at her lack of information about your date for this evening. She laughs at your joke enjoying that natural flow between you both when it’s just the two of you. Guiding you over to her car you raise your eyebrow at her silence. 

“Don’t worry I’m not kidnapping you,” she reassures, as she makes her way round to the driver’s side. Once sat in the car and buckled up Ally looked over to you, her fingers touching your forearm briefly. 

“Do you trust me?” Her words are so simple but with such meaning behind them the only response you can commit to is a nod. That seems to give her all the confirmation she needs as she sets off down your street heading for the town centre. 

Pulling up next to the curb you frown as you take in the dark building next to you.

“Is the restaurant closed?” you ask, your only reply is a wicked grin and a wink before she gets out of the car and towards your door offering her hand as she helps you out of her car. 

“The restaurant is never closed if you're the owner of it,” she murmurs, close to your ear as she places a hand against your lower back. You gulp at her closeness feeling her warm breath against your skin, your eyes widen as you register the new piece of information. 

“You own this place? How did this not come up in conversation before?” you question, still shocked at the new piece of information feeling slightly impressed at her juggling skills of being a mom, senator and a restaurant owner. She shrugs looking slightly sheepish as she escorts you over to the front door, digging for her keys before opening the door. 

“I hope it isn’t too full of myself, bringing you here. I just thought if you were going to have the best meal of your life it may as well be cooked by yours truly,” she confesses, her end statement making you laugh at her confidence. 

“So sure of yourself, Richards. I have high expectations for this meal,” you inform, going along with her teasing and carefree nature. Ally switches on the light revealing beautifully lit fairy lights that cover the ceiling of the restaurant, candles unlit on the only dressed table for the evening.  She bites her lip as she contemplates her next words.

“Well, I’ve made us a delicious meal but I thought I’d add a twist to our evening.” she reveals, you frown at her dramatic build up wondering what else she has in store. “Since I cooked us the starter and the main, I thought we could have a little competition on the dessert part because those cookies you made were actually pretty good,” Ally laughs, at your gaped expression. 

“Hey! You say that like you are surprised!” you exclaim, joining in on her laughter watching as her eyes light up when she smiles wide, grinning softly at the observation. 

“You admitted it yourself sweetheart, remember? Thankful that the kitchen was still in one piece was it?” she mocks, as she escorts you over to the table waiting for you to sit comfortably on the chair before moving to grab hold of a lighter from the counter, lighting the two candles that sit in between you both. She gestures for you to wait a moment as she makes her way into the back and appears a few moments later holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

“I hope you like Red, it’s one of my favourites,” she offers you some, which you happily accept watching her fill the glass with ease before proceeding to fill her own taking a seat across from you. Grabbing hold of the glass you hold it up towards her as she does the same clinking her glass against yours before taking a sip, her eyes never leaving your own. 

The evening filled with great food and easy conversation as you both start to open up about your past hardships, realising how similar your heartaches were. Ally revealed that before her wife passed things were starting to get worse between them, talks of divorce circled around before that terrible incident. Apparently Ivy had been a part of the famous Cult that was led by Kai Anderson before being an unfortunate victim to his murderous plans, you had heard about the young man on the news a few years ago but at the time you were mostly back in your hometown raising Amelia not having much time for the news. 

“So Amelia mentioned she had another Mother once? What happened there if you don’t mind me asking?” Ally asks, following your mentions of struggling in the first few years of Amelia’s life. You take a sip of your wine before opening up to her about that particular sensitive topic but her eyes are so full of kindness and understanding the words just start to spill like a river flow. 

“She was the first girl that I had ever kissed, we were in school together all the way up to college. I think I had always been in love with her so when we graduated and she asked me to marry her of course I said yes in an instant,” you scoff quietly, pausing for a moment. Your eyes casting down to the white cloth that covers the table. “It was her who came to me about the idea of having children and how she couldn’t wait to start a family, I was so happy that she wanted to share that with me and a year later I ended up pregnant with Amelia. She was happy at first and hovered around me like a mother hen… then once Amelia was here it was like she felt she couldn’t connect to her and started to snap at me for it. Told me I was being selfish and that I wasn’t giving her enough attention.” you feel the tears build in your eyes as you subtly wipe the stray tear. “Then I woke up one morning to find all of her things gone and just a note, a fucking note can you believe. We built this life together for her to just up and leave without having the guts to say it to my face,” you grumble, before shaking your head smiling painfully over at Ally who sits quietly allowing you to continue within your own time.

“I’m sorry for rambling like that, I haven’t opened up about all of this to well anyone really,” you murmur, wiping your face once more, chuckling to yourself sheepishly. Ally leans forward and reaches for your hand across the table laying the palm of her hand on top of your own tracing a soothing pattern against your skin. 

“Don’t apologise, thank you for opening up to me. You and Amelia both deserve better than that,” she reassures, smiling softly at your tear-stained face. Pulling back she grabs hold of her wine and toasts, clinking against your own glass. 

“To shitty ex-wives and new beginnings,” she declares, grinning as you laugh repeating her words back to her. 

***

The conversation became lighter after that, telling silly stories about the children and your brother's secret love for tea parties and crowns. Ally laughs out loud at that, only picturing princess Amelia bossing around her whipped buff uncle at tea parties before sobering up clearing her throat. 

“Okay, as much as I would love to know more about these famous tea parties. We have a competition to start,” she instructs, standing from her chair and offering you her hand. 

You lace your fingers through hers squeezing the hand excitedly as she guides you into the kitchen. You look around in astonishment at the well sized kitchen taking in the new edition appliances, as she moves you over to the prepping station. You wait patiently as Ally grabs the ingredients and places them in front of you, passing you an apron on her way past. 

“I got to admit, I’ve never been on a date where I have to wear an apron before,” 

“It’s more fun wearing one the morning after,” she teases back, winking suggestively making you blush hard at her words, the thoughts of a naked Ally cooking breakfast in nothing but an apron for you in the mornings stirred something within you that you hadn’t experienced in a long time; arousal. You hide your dirty thoughts by clearing your throat and putting the apron on, deciding you aren’t going to let her affect you like this without a little bit of pay back. 

“Is that a promise, Senator?” you husk, eyeing her hungrily as you tie the strings of the apron tight against your body tugging hard for extra effect. Ally gulps visibly at you as she shakily places the flour onto the counter, her eyes glaring playfully over to you as you smile innocently. 

“Tease,” she spats, with no real bite behind her words as her brown eyes sparkle with glee. She moves towards you, pressing her front to your back as she leans close to your ear as her arms snake around you grabbing hold of the mixing bowl. 

“We’re going to make cookies but you can add your own special ingredients to spice it up a little bit,” she informs, her lips close to your ear you can feel them faintly brush the skin. You suppress a shiver knowing her game. 

“You got it, chef.” you whisper back, tilting your head to the side so your lips are an inch away from her own. You can hear her breath hitch at your sudden closeness, her eyes trail from your lips to eyes a dark look passes across her brown gaze before she steps away and prepares her own bowl grinning devilishly. 

You both continue to work on your desserts moving around the kitchen as you steal heated glances from one another. Your front pressing close to her back as you move to grab more ingredients, feeling her tense as your fingertips brush across her arm as you reach across her. Once the cookies are ready for the oven, you help Ally in cleaning the station up which takes you a lot longer as you both flick more flour onto each other than into the trash bag. You laugh at Ally’s horrifying face as you leave a white smudge across her cheek and chin. 

Her eyes darken as does her grin, making you pause your laughing fit. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. No need to retaliate, you’re a much better person than me Ally.” you bargain, as you watch her stalk slowly over to you her hands still covered in flour. You take a step back cautiously as you frantically look around the room, searching for the exit. Before you can finish up the route in your head Ally leaps forward missing you by an inch as she tries to enclose her arms around you making you yelp and giggle. 

“Ally! Please!,” 

“I like when you beg,” she flirts, grinning wickedly as she continues her attack. You stutter over your words for a moment thrown by her comment as you feel a slow burn aching in your stomach at her words, the brief moment of weakness on your part gives her an opening as she leaps forward and wraps her arms around you, making you laugh as she smears the flour onto your right cheek and nose. 

“Gotcha,” she whispers, close to your lips. Your face grows serious as your eyes find hers, basking in the comfort of being in her arms. You gaze at her lips as you lick your own watching as her gaze does the same as you move close to her, the beeping sound of the oven timer startles you apart as Ally quickly moves over to the oven to check on the cookies. You fluster at the stolen moment making your way over, Ally turns and smiles sheepishly. 

“If you like why don’t you hop on up the table. Let me refill your glass,” she murmurs, squeezing your hand on her way past as you nod shyly. 

Sitting on top of the prep table, you watch Ally move back towards you with a filled up glass of red noticing her carrying a bottle of water in the other. 

“I drove us here, darling.” she lightly reminds you, grinning softly as she comes to stand in between your legs placing your glass of wine by your hip.

“Of course! One of us has to be responsible,” you tease, wanting the easy natural atmosphere back before your almost kiss. Ally grins knowingly and continues to make polite conversation with you as she continues to stand in between your legs as if it’s the most natural place to be. You show Ally pictures of Amelia during last Halloween in her pumpkin outfit as she shows you pictures of her and Oz sledging during Christmas time, the intimacy shared between you both makes your heart flutter as you allow yourself a moment to have hope that this might actually turn into something more serious. Although the idea scares you, you’ve never been more excited at the prospect. 

The final ping of the oven springs to life indicating to remove the freshly baked goods from the oven, you hum as you take in the heavenly smell of freshly cooked dough. Ally moves over to take the cookies out allowing them time to cool down before placing two cookies from each tray onto a plate, she places the plate next to your hip and offers you a bite of her own cookie as she explains her secret ingredients. You moan as the flavour melts into your mouth closing your eyes as you bask in its yummy goodness. 

“That’s amazing!” you mumble through bites. As she smiles smugly at you, complimenting you makes you roll your eyes fondly. 

“Okay, now that we’ve gotten your mediocre cookie out of the way are you ready for mine?” you ask, grinning. Ally wiggles her eyebrows at the hidden euphemism making you shake your head jokingly at her immaturity mouthing a ‘behave’. She makes great effort to eye the cookie cautiously as you bring it up towards her mouth, you watch as she takes a tentative bite as she slowly chews on the cookie, her eyes sparkling with glee as she grins while continuing to chew on the yummy goodness, making you grin smugly. 

“See! I told you, give me baking over cooking any day.” you say, feeling proud of your creation. She nods approvingly of your baked good. 

“You know, I would love to have these in the restaurant if you ever felt up to making them again?” she asks, a genuine smile gracing her lips. You smile sheepishly at her offer shaking your head at the compliment. 

“Oh I don’t think they’re that good,” you mumble, suddenly feeling shy as you look down towards the floor. Soft fingers pinch lightly at your chin forcing your gaze upwards and towards the softest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. 

“Well I think they’re amazing, just like the person who made them.” she mutters close, her face moving closer to your own as she maintains eye contact. You chew on your bottom lip as her gaze watches the action grinning, her lips an inch away from your own. 

“I would really like to kiss you,” she states, her voice no more than a whisper in the small space between you. You finally find the confidence to speak as your eyes take in her close proximity. 

“Kiss me,” 

Her lips are on you in a second leaving no room for protest or second thoughts. Soft lips press delicately against your own at first as if to become familiar with them, it’s softness, it’s taste. Her hands rest gentle against your cheeks keeping you in place as your lips begin to explore her own, your tongue tracing gently against her bottom lip instantly granting you access as you brush against her tongue. Your stomach tightens as you hear her sweet moan, enjoying the effect you have on her, your arms wrapped around her waist keeping her close as you continue to explore each other's mouths. The screeching sound of Ally’s phone startles you apart as you both fight to catch your breaths, her head leaning against your own as her eyes remain close. 

“I should get that, it might be Oz.” she whispers, too afraid to speak louder and ruin your moment further. You gulp trying to catch up with your senses, nodding as you urge her to answer her phone. 

You watch from the countertop as she paces back and forth, frantically trying to calm the poor boy on the other end of the phone. Her eyes find you as she throws an apologetic look which you smile reassuringly to understand the difficulties of motherhood yourself. Ally ends the phone call with a sigh as she moves to stand close to you again, unable to fully be apart from you after having you so close to her. 

“Is he okay? Let me go grab our coats and we can head over?” you offer, giving her hand a squeeze before leaping off the countertop ready to head for the front entrance. Ally’s hand stops you for a moment as you look back in confusion. 

“I’m sorry our date had to end so abruptly, especially after-” she pauses, blushing slightly as she struggles to meet your gaze. Stepping close to her you press a sweet kiss to her warm cheek and whisper into her ear. 

“I’m happy to finish this off another time, if you are?” you husk close to her cheek, pulling back slightly as you watch her eyes flutter for a moment grinning at the effect you’ve just caused before moving to grab the coats from the front of the restaurant, Ally’s stuttering voice following you from behind. 

“I- yes I would like that very much,” 

Once Ally had locked up the restaurant, your prized cookies wrapped up on a plate to take home. You settle into the passenger seat and look over at a distraught Ally. 

“He hasn’t had a nightmare in over three months. I thought we were over the worst of it,” Ally reveals, her eyes glossing over as she looks out into the road. You reach across and place your hand on top of hers that rest tightly around the steering wheel, soothing her worries. 

“Let’s go and see your son, I’m sure seeing his new best friend will help.” you offer, knowing how much Oz enjoys hanging out with Amelia. You are more than willing for the two to hang out especially as there is no school tomorrow and Oz could do with his best friend. Ally nods before starting the engine and speedily heading home. Your eyes stray from the outside view to take in Ally’s side profile, taking in her shape of her nose and her full lips the glow of the streetlights making her brown eyes shine, her skin smooth and soft begging to be touched. 

Yes, definitely worth the wait.

[liighty]

Guzma babysitting Reader’s Niece

(A/N): BACK ON MY BULLSHIT AGAIN! BUT THIS TIME IT’S NOT ALL THAT SELF-INDULGENT AND MIGHT POSSIBLY BE TURNED INTO A SUPER FIC IF I FEEL LIKE IT

In all honesty i’ve thought about making another largeass super self-indulgent Guzma x Reader mega fic, but I’m not sure if I want to? I don’t know if anybody would read it, so that’s what this post is for!!! If you like this and want to see actual Guzma x Reader with plot and not just fluff drabbles lmk!! I have a bunch of asks to address so maybe i’ll get to that too soon

Anyways, back to the fic.

Mini Summary: (Y/N)’s niece needs to be babysat while (Y/N) is interviewed, so they turn to Guzma and crew to help out for a bit. Chaos ensues.

Rating/Triggers: UH drugs are mentioned but not really? THE KID DOES NOT DO DRUGS!!!! but yeah if that makes you uncomfy i’d be careful with it??\

Pairing: Guzma/Gender Neutral!Reader (I used the honorific ‘Titi’ which is gender neutral for ‘Tia’ or ‘Tio’ [extra thanks to Ocha_Bocha for helping me with that one <3] and tried to make it as gender neutral as possible. Originally this was written with a male reader, and then I went female, and ultimately attempted to eliminate gender completely. [Following the footsteps of Splatoon teehee])

Fic under cut!!!!!

"Are you sure this is a good idea, honey?" You clutch your niece's hand as you approach the large walls that separate Po Town from the rest of Ula'Ula Island. It's not that you don't trust the man who you're leaving her with- in fact, those two have been acquainted previously and seem to get along fairly well- It's his friends who you're concerned about.

"..." Her silence is expected, as the kid isn't all that talkative. Recognizing the young girl's silence, you frown. 

"You can stay in the office lounge if you really want to. I know you aren't the biggest fan of crowds, and um- Guz has some pretty loud friends-" Your explanation of what to be expected is quickly interrupted by a blue haired young man decked in black and white clothing. "Yo yo, what's with the kid?!" 

You arch a brow. You knew that Guzma worked with kids, but this guy couldn't be any older than 15! "I could say the same for you. I'm here to talk to Guzma-"

"Ya mean the boss? Why would some random chick want anything ta do with the leader of the Team Skull, huh?!"

A pink haired girl dressed in the same outfit walks up to the boy, crossing her arms. "Shut it, ya clod. Don't you remember the conversation we had with Boss yesterday?"

Hearing this, the blue haired boy's eyes light up in an epiphany. "Ohhhhh shit- Right-"

"Watch yer fuckin' language around the kiddo." She lightly smacks the back of Dansei's head. "She's in good hands, ma'am."

Another pink haired woman, this one being someone you finally recognize, walks in and smacks both of the delinquents in the head once more. "You say that after cussing, Reese?" 

Thank God. Plumeria. "Hey Plumes-" You smile weakly, waving politely with your free hand. Your niece does the same. Another young man, this one much shorter than the first and with green curly hair scrambles after Plumeria, jumping up and down to be seen. "Sorry about these numskulls. I'll lead y'all to the big boss man, yo. No worries at all, so you can chillax!"

I'm regretting this more and more by the second.

The crew starts whistling some hip hop tune as they make their way to the Shady House, the smaller boy beatboxing. You've taken this time to offer a piggyback ride to your niece, who's politely declined. Are all kids like this? Or is it just her?

Once they approach the boss, Guzma immediately jumps out of his chair, his signature shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "Eyyyyyy! (Y/N)!!! Kiddo!! What's up, homeslice?!" He hops down the stairs and crouches so he can get at eye-level with the young girl, offering his fist for a pound-it.

She bumps her fist against his, smiling just a bit. It's more of a reaction than you expected, at least. "S-sup, Uncle Guzma-" 

Looks like his slang is rubbing off on her. That's cute.

"Thanks for droppin' by, Doll. No need to worry about Little Miss Troublemaker over here, I got it all under control." He picks up your niece and walks over to you, pressing a looooooooongass smooch on your cheek. The other Team Skull members all make mini comments, like "Ewwww-", "Grosss-", and "Cooties-", causing Plumeria to once again smack their heads together. 

You roll your eyes, unable to stop the smirk on your face from growing any further. "Not in front of the kids, Guz." "Ah, right, right- My bad." His shades slide onto his face, hiding the bright red blush that had crept onto his cheeks. "Well, you should probably get goin', ey? The Aether Foundation's one lucky company to have you interviewin' for a position."

"Dork." You boop his nose, then your niece's. "Call me if you need me, okay honey? I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay, Titi (Y/N)-" You smile at the nickname while the others snicker. 'Titi' sounds an awful lot like 'Tittie', and considering three of the 7 people in the room are immature teenagers, there's definitely some laughing going on in the background. Plumeria looks very tired. How does she deal with these kids all the time?

"Alright, I'll be back. Don't light anything on fire, okay?" You yell as you walk off, feeling a slight hint of unease at the idea of leaving your young niece with so many delinquents, even if it's just for a few hours. It'll be fine, though. Guzma's there to keep them from doing anything stupid.

You laugh at the thought. Who am I kidding? He's probably gonna be the one who explodes something first.

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The interview itself wasn't all that bad. You're fairly certain that you either aced it or put yourself up for consideration, which in itself helped your confidence just a bit. With the absence of Lusamine and the arrest of several of her chairmen, the foundation was very antsy and in need of someone who could handle the Pokemon Observation department. With your background in medicine and PR, you were rationally on the list of potential replacements, and despite your initial resistance, learning that the company would be run by somebody that WASN'T the manipulative little bitch Lusamine gave you enough comfort to accept the offer for the interview. Was it just an offer or an invitation? You weren't quite sure, but Wick was very insistent on you showing up.

Either way, you're pretty certain you got the job. Good on you. 

You can't help but wonder how your niece is doing, surrounded by so many troublemakers. As you make your way to the entrance of the Shady House, you can hear loud music, causing you to feel a small tint of anxiety. She'll be fine.

You walk up to the door and creak it open, the smell of burnt… whatever the fuck that is flooding your nostrils. Of course. They lit something on fire.

"Guz??" You call out to the empty room. "Plumes? Anybody home?" As expected, there's no response. You start to feel more and more anxious the more ground you start to cover. Where are they? Peeking your head around the corridor, your anxiety comes to its peak when-

"And that's why you should never do drugs, aight?"

H-Huh?

Your niece sits on Guzma's knee as he bounces it up and down, his signature shit-eating grin plastered on his face like usual. Awfully burnt cookies sit on the table, explaining the smell from earlier, and Plumeria seems to be asleep with the other team skull grunts. Are they… napping? Seems like it. 

She nods enthusiastically, taking a bite of a charred cookie and grimacing shortly after, causing the two to both laugh in unison.

"Doesn't matter if it's just for recreational purposes, you could still get hooked, and that's the last thing we want!" Grinning once again, Guzma pokes her forehead.

Hypocrite. You're reminded of the first time you two had kissed, which happened to be shortly after you both had blazed a couple of joints. It's enough to get you laughing, though.

"Huh?! What're you doing here so early? Don't tell me ya flunked THAT bad!" Guzma's eyes widen, a genuine look of bewilderment painted on his face.

"I did not flunk! I think I did great!" You huff, crossing your arms defiantly. "It's suuuuuuuper comforting that you thought I failed, Guz."

"Nononono I was joking!! Right, kiddo??" Your niece quickly nods. "See???? No harm, no foul!"

Arching a brow, you walk up to the two and pick up the young girl. "Mhmmm. Did you have fun, honey?"

She nods again, unable to contain the grin on her face. "Uncle Guzma told me about his Pokemon training! And I got to ride on Golisopod's back!" 

The large bug type pokemon bops up and down upon hearing its name, prompting a smirk from Guzma. "Yeah, I told ya I'd take care of her. She's welcome back anytime, okay?"

"Thanks, Guz." You peck his cheek, and your niece sticks her tongue out, closing her eyes. 

"Icky cooties!!" Where the hell did she hear that? The only people you can think of who'd say such a thing are in the other room snoozing, so- Yeah, actually, you know exactly who taught her that word.

"Well, I'm gonna getchu with my cooties! And my tickles!" You raise a hand menacingly, wiggling your fingers with one eye closed. She immediately curls up, not out of fear, but out of excitement. It's nice to see her so happy again.

After a very long tickle session, you quickly glance at the large grandfather clock, noting the short hand of the clock slowly approaching the number 8. Shit. "We gotta go, kiddo. Your dad isn't gonna be all that happy if we get home any later than 8:30. Besides, it's past your bedtime."

"I bet Uncle Guzma stays up past his bedtime-" She yawns. "Can we stay for a little longer?"

How can I say no to that face? You find yourself incredibly conflicted. Do you tell her you have to leave anyways? Or do you stay and risk getting in trouble by your brother-in-law?

"Eh, as much as I'd love to have you over for longer, kiddo- Look at your Titi (Y/N). They look exhausted."

You smile gratefully at the comment, glad that it doesn't have to be you to tell your niece to go home. "Yeah, I'm beat. We can hang out some other time, okay? I promise." You pat her head and get ready to leave.

"Aww… okay. Bye, Uncle Guzma!! Bye Golisopod!" She holds your hand, and the two of you eventually walk your way back to the car. As you drive away, one thing lingers in your head. You can't think of anything else, in all honesty.

Guzma's great with kids. I should've expected as much, but… I'm glad he gets along with my family.

Your stomach rumbles at the intersection. I'd kill for some malasadas right about now- 

Okay, maybe you CAN think of something else.

[plus-size-reader]

Sweet Revenge

Oberyn Martell x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1365 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Oberyn finding himself drawn to the reader, the only legitimate child of Robert and Cersei and deciding to take her back to Dorne with him. 

——————————————————————————————————

Perhaps it was revenge that motivated him, or maybe it had something to do with his own loneliness. In any case, Oberyn knew one thing to be true...he wasn’t going to return to Dorne without you on his arm.

His desire to marry you wasn’t absolute, at least, not at first.

Oberyn found himself drawn to you at first, interested in the way that you carried yourself.

You were a Lannister, he was sure of that, but it was that simple fact that interested him most. Oberyn knew about as much about the Lannisters as anyone did, and they were all the same, in his vast experience.

It didn’t matter how low or high they were, or how they’d been raised, each and every Lannister walking the planet was an arrogant, cruel liar who couldn’t be trusted, and yet, he didn’t believe that with you.

There was something different about you.  

Had he known enough about your bloodline to confirm the rumors that had been heard in every corner of the seven kingdoms, he would have known why but he didn’t. Oberyn didn’t know that you were your father’s daughter, and that was the difference.

Your brothers were pure Lannister, and so was Myrcella but you had been born long before any of them. You had been born shortly after your mother and father were married, before they realized just how much they despised each other.

That had changed, of course, rather quickly but they spent just enough time together to conceive you, to your mother’s distaste. She always wanted a son, an heir to take over the kingdom so she wouldn’t have to touch Robert again.

...And she found a way around it.

It was clear to anyone close enough to observe that your siblings didn’t belong to your father, but Robert didn’t care enough to address the issue and no one else was in a position to do so.

Still, Cersei’s general refusal to acknowledge you led to your Uncle Tyrion, which could have been why Oberyn couldn’t quite place your mannerisms.

He was least familiar with the half-man, as most people were.

In any case though, as far as Oberyn was concerned, you were an oddity among these parts and he’d always fancied himself a sort of collector in that regard. The trouble came when he tried to get your attention.

The Dornishman had found himself used to people throwing themselves at him wherever he went, but he didn’t seem to have that effect on you. If anything, you seemed to be systematically avoiding him.

That just wouldn’t do.

“You astonish me, little lion” he purred, maneuvering his way over to your side in as smooth a motion as he could muster. It confused you that he would even bother, but you nodded in greeting nonetheless.

There wasn’t anything you had to say to him, and his hatred of your entire bloodline was no secret, but sitting beside you wasn’t a crime. Besides, if this man had any ill intent toward you, he wouldn't get very far with all these guards around.

He wouldn’t be allowed to kill you, he couldn’t and that wasn’t going to change in the throne room.

“Whatever for?” you responded, keeping your eyes forward as you watched the rest of the surrounding crowd. Your posture was stiff and conservative, in stark contrast to the way the dornish prince stood.

He was so relaxed, so comfortable in a place full of his enemies, with not a care in the world.

For a brief moment, you wondered what it would be like to be that free. You couldn’t help it, knowing that you’d always longed to shred the title you bore and this tight corset that bound your frame.

Your mother has spent every day since your birth trying to turn you into something other than what you were. She wanted to make you better, wanted to make you a presentable lady to one day marry off but you’d never wanted that.

The same freedom that Oberyn wore around his neck like a badge of honor was the one thing you’d always craved, and the one thing you couldn’t ever have.

“I have always hated Lannisters, and yet, when I look at your face, there is no anger in the pit of my belly” Oberyn commented now, shocking you even further with the way he spoke.

Anyone else was risking the loss of their tongue by saying something like that and yet he did so without a bat of his eye.

It confused you, but you didn’t take issue with his comment.

You had always felt more at home by your fathers side and couldn’t blame him for holding the position that he did. Since Robert’s funeral, you had felt more alone in your own home than anywhere else.

In fact, Oberyn was the first person who seemed to understand the true corruption of the Red Keep and you were grateful for that. If nothing else, it helped you feel more seen.

It was comforting in some sort of strange way. “My father would share that opinion, if he was alive” you shrugged, trying to let yourself relax a bit, in a similar fashion to what he was. It felt odd to you, and you immediately worried that someone would correct you.

However, that reprimand never came.

No one even seemed to be paying attention to what you and Oberyn were talking about, with Cersei much more focused on your brother on the throne. She couldn’t care less about what you were doing.

“A wise old man then” he joked back, that wicked smirk on his face as he thought about it. There was an obvious hesitance in his voice, proving to him that he didn’t have the same opinion of your father as you did.

Still, you found yourself uncharacteristically unmoved by his words.

You had come to terms with the things your father had done in his life and you weren’t living under any illusion about what kind of man he was. Where Oberyn was concerned, you understood.

In his youth, your father had made his fair share of enemies and done quite a lot of damage to a lot of people.

It was only fair that Oberyn get justice for his sister and her children after what had happened to them. In his position, you would have wanted the same.

~ You could have never imagined that you would have found something in common with someone from such a faraway land who you knew very little about but Oberyn was quick to prove that wrong.

As the two of you talked, you understood just how much freedom Oberyn had and you wanted nothing more in the world than to experience that. The man picked up on that as you spoke and was quick to come up with a plan.

You wanted to experience the life that he lived, and he wanted nothing more than you so there was only one way for both of you to get what you wanted.

“Come with me to Sunspear”

The offer came out of nowhere, though the way that he delivered it showed very little of the way he was actually feeling. Talking to Oberyn offered very little relief to your concerns.

Though, you weren’t going to hesitate too much.

You knew that there was nothing here for you, and if nothing else, your mother would be glad to be rid of you. You also knew that you wanted to experience life in Dorne.

It would give you a chance to visit Myrcella where she was living and it didn’t hurt that the prince was offering to accompany you himself. Only someone completely out of their mind would pass that up.

“With you? You’re suggesting that I leave my home to travel with a complete stranger” you clarified, noting that he must have been a complete madman.

...But you may have been much more mad for actually considering what he was offering.

In doing so, you would be giving Oberyn everything he was looking for, a beautiful travel companion and the sweetest revenge he could ever have against your family.

[teacup-set]

Giants

Summary: 'Thank you for the recipe', her note says, but what she really means is 'thank you for raising me, thank you for making me who I am.' She knows mama will know what she means, she always does. [SSS family]

Read on: AO3, FFN

x

The sun is low on the horizon and the sky looks like it's on fire. The contrast of the world has shifted, and the aged rust-orange of the hokage tower looks burning red like its early days. The villagers often joke that the sun burns brighter these days because there is a flame-fanning uchiwa in the hokage office, that the will-of-fire that was once a flickering flame is now a ferocious katon. 

In her office chamber, Sarada feels much more muted, heaving under the weight of the faith people put in her. This had always been her dream and she harbored no disillusion about how difficult it is to be hokage. And yet, she is crumbling. The kage summit that she is organizing looms on the horizon, and every half hour there seems to be a new logistical difficulty without fail. Just the administrative nightmare that is hosting the world's most powerful dignitaries in an event that is without a doubt a beacon for those with ill-intent has eaten up all her time. She hasn't even gotten to thinking about the delicate issues and negotiations she has to raise at the summit. She is overwhelmed, but people depend on her so she can't let it show. Part of her wants to run to her parents home, because there she is still a child, free from the weight of the world on her shoulders. There is no time for that though. Her parents, along with the Uzumakis, moved out from Konoha some years ago, choosing to spend their retirement away from the shinobi world in a rural part of Fire country. It would take too long to make the trip, and there is still much to do for the summit. 

Sarada eyes the phone on her desk. 'I could call, I suppose.'

Without thinking about it too much, she dials the number. By the second ring, she remembers to cough and clear her throat lest her voice gives away her frustration. By the fourth, her mother picks up. 

"Hello?" 

"Hi, mama!" says Sarada, forcing cheer into her voice. 

"Sarada! How are you sweetie?" Sakura chimes. Already, Sarada feels lighter. 

"I am good, mama. How are you and papa?" asks Sarada, resting her chin on her palm. 

"We are both well sweetheart, though you and the others should drop by once in a while," her mother's voice becomes fainter as she speaks, like she is turning away from the mouthpiece, "Otherwise your father and uncle Naruto will keep trying to fill the void by acting like children themselves." and Sarada imagines her mother is eyeing some mess they have made in the background. She laughs. 

"Okay, okay, I will try to make a trip soon." she concedes. The line is silent for a second. 

"Sarada, is everything okay?" Sakura asks, and immediately Sarada wants to kick herself for thinking she could ever fool her mother. Both her and her papa agree, they could give the whole world the slip, but mama knows them by heart. 

"Yeah, of course." Sarada attempts, and from the silence from the other end she knows she has failed. "It's nothing, mama. Just stressed. The hokage summit is next week and Konoha is hosting." she admits in defeat. 

"Oh darling, that's a lot of work. Are you holding up okay?" 

Sarada wants to refrain from worrying her mother, but it is a chance to finally vent out all that she has been holding in and she is verging on desperate so she bites. 

"I...don't know mama. There is a lot to do." she starts, "I am still trying to take care of all the security measures. There is tension between Kumo and Hoshi, and they will not allow the Raikage delegation to cross into the land of fire." 

"Iwa and Oto have also been bickering. I really hope they will behave at the summit, otherwise I don't know how I'll handle them." she sighs and continues as Sakura patiently listens, "Even beyond the kage summit there is more to do. There have been a few bad harvests near the south east border, and sending provisions from the center's stock takes too long. Most of it rots by the time it gets there. The Fire Daimyo asked the Daimyo of Tea country to help since they are closer, but they refuse. Apparently we have 'a history of not interfering in each other's affairs' and that's how they want to keep it. Can you believe that?" she huffs angrily. 

"Sarada, is this line secure?" Sakura asks, her voice level. 

"Uh, yeah. I am calling from my office." Sarada replies, taken aback by her mother's sudden question. 

"Okay." Sakura begins, "The daimyo is wrong. Fire country and Tea country don't interact because of Tea country's reluctance to interact with nations that have shinobi villages. But during the time Lord Second was Hokage, Tea was experiencing tensions with Sea Country. Something to do with ships from Sea Country intercepting the cargo from Tea, I think? Anyway, they had requested help from Fire country then." 

Sarada sits up straighter, listening attentively. 

"They requested the Leaf to assassinate one of the people involved. They happened to be a higher-up in Sea country's government, and if the responsible party was discovered it would have caused a scandal." Sakura explained, "An ANBU unit was dispatched to take care of it, without any official mission report or paper transaction to make sure it would not be traced. But just in case they were discovered, to ensure that the Leaf would not be held responsible as the perpetrator, the Second kept a signed declaration from the Tea Daimyo sealed away. You should be able to find it in Lord Second's section of the records room. Not only is it proof that Fire and Tea have been involved in each other's affairs, this is information that Tea would very much like to avoid from entering the public domain. It might help you make your case, though I can't imagine how wicked someone would have to be to refuse to feed the hungry." Sakura finishes, sounding angered. 

Sarada is stunned. After quickly jotting down a note to check the records room, she pauses. Then slowly realization dawns. To her, mama is mama. Mama who braids her hair, always overcooks the fish, and doesn't believe in separating laundry by colours. But mama is also Uchiha Sakura. She was trained by two hokage, and was also on the same team as one (-and a half). For the longest time, she was also the director of the hospital and one of Konoha's most prestigious diplomats. There is perhaps no one in the village who has been in and out of the hokage building more than mama has. Of course she would know. Mama always has the answers, after all. 

"I...thank you, mama." Sarada stumbles, still basking in the awe of her belated realization. 

"Shh, sweetheart, don't thank me." from behind her, Sarada hears movement in the background, and then her papa's voice- 

"Who is it?" Sasuke inquires, asking Sakura. 

"It's Sarada, my love." Sarada blushes slightly, still embarrassed by her parents' affections towards each other, as she listens to her mother catch her father up on their conversation. In the next instant, her papa is on the phone. 

"Sarada. There is an alternate route from Kumo to Konoha through a set of islands near Whirlpool. I am sending you a map, await my hawk." her father's steady, reassuring voice carries through the phone. 

Once again, Sarada has to reckon with who her parents really are. Her memories of her father revolve around eating breakfast in the early mornings, packing lunches for mama, and throwing Kunai in the afternoons. But her father has traveled the whole world, and not just this one. He has inherited knowledge from the founder of the shinobi world itself. There is so much in this world that only he knows. 

"I will, papa, thank you." Sarada says, in a daze. 

"Hn." her father replies, satisfied, and then her parents have swapped the phone again. 

"Sweetie, is there anything else we can do?" worry rings in her mother's voice. 

The laundry list of tasks she has to complete is still infinite, but suddenly Sarada's heart is inflated again. She is ready. 

"No, mama, I can handle the rest." she says with confidence. 

She hears the smile in her mama's voice. "Of course you can, love." 

"You're doing a much better job than the idiot." Her father mutters in the background. 

Sarada gazes at her reflection in the window of her office. Staring back at her are her father's eyes, and the purple diamond on her forehead passed down from her mother. Her eyes trail to the hokage regalia hanging next to the door, but instead of feeling daunted, she is reminded of her earliest memory of them. The same cloak and hat, hanging on the back of a dining chair in her childhood home, first when Lord Sixth would come over for dinner, and then Lord Seventh. The same cloak that would hang between her father's dark one and her mother's lab coat, the same place it still belongs. It dawns on her simply. She was born to giants. She was raised by giants. And she is a giant too. 

Her reverie is broken by her mother's voice carrying through the phone. 

"Sarada, have you eaten dinner?" 

Suddenly Sarada wants to burst out laughing. Only her mother could go from delicate, high-risk politics to dinner without a pause. 

"No mama, not yet." she answers, smiling. 

"Sarada!" her mother exclaims, and her father clucks his tongue in disapproval. 

"You must eat, Sarada." her father's stern voice reminds her, and Sarada feels her heart soar. Some things are still simple, and for that she is grateful. 

"Oh, Sarada! Your father and I tried a new silken tofu recipe! You will like it, I am sure. I will send it with your father's hawk!" her mother gushes, then turns to her father, "Darling, do you think we could send some of the cucumbers we harvested, too? They will pair well." 

Her father grunts in approval and already Sarada can hear him walking away, no doubt to ready his bird. 

"We won't keep you anymore sweetie, you have work to do. Just make sure you eat!" her mother chides. 

Sarada wants to tell her, 'You aren't keeping me from anything. I will make time for you always. I love you with all my heart.' Instead she says- 

"Okay, mama. I will see you both soon." because she will, and then she will tell them. 

"Alright then. Bye sweetheart." Sarada savors the cadence of her mother's voice and then the phone disconnects, leaving her in the silence of her office. 

Outside the sun has set, but Sarada's heart is ablaze anew.

x

The hokage summit is completed, treaties are negotiated, the famine is tackled, and just as it always has been, new problems swiftly replace the old ones. Sarada is unflinching, she knows she will solve them, just as she always has. 

She finishes tying an envelope to the messenger hawk she is sending her parents’ way. Inside is a photograph of the silken tofu she made, and a note. 

'Thank you for the recipe', it says, but what she really means is 'thank you for raising me, thank you for making me who I am.' She knows mama will know what she means, she always does.

Fin.

AN: Inspired by the poem “My mother texts me instructions to cook silken tofu” by Sue Zhao, and my general dislike of being grown up. 

[avengershumanresources]

blood 9 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 8 - part 10

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

WARNING: Mention of violence/attempted assault from prior chapter

9 - a king’s arrival

Thank the gods Loki crossed Stephen’s path first, because things were happening far more quickly than the sorcerer had anticipated. He had heard a particularly chilling rumor upon his return to the castle from surveying the magical barriers with Amora and was in route to your quarters to check on you. 

Loki intercepted him and caught him up to what had happened.

Loki had told Peter the details of what he’d stumbled upon between you and Brock. Immediately inflamed, Peter started in motion the rebellion he’d been planning with Nat and the guard. With the Asgardian army’s support, Peter could easily usurp the throne from Obadiah by the end of the night. 

Especially now that the alliance between him and Brock was in question with the betrothal in a murky area. 

Less than twelve hours, Stephen calculated while Loki kept pace with him toward your room. That’s all it took for the plans to go into motion and the next steps to proceed.

“He didn’t-,” Stephen asked after they’d arrived, his anger simmering and threatening to boil based off of his companions response. He needed to keep control. He needed to kept his head or risk you falling into harm.

“No,” Loki stated clearly. “It was stopped before he finished his task. Her seidr did well to protect her. You acted in good judgment by not fully sealing it.”

“Amora?” he pressed and Loki smirked back at him. 

“She’s been tending to Brock the last hour, but I’m certain they won’t have time to rally a guard to their cause,” he explained quickly. “My men outnumber theirs two to one, and from what Natalia has told me, the majority of the guard will support Peter.” He paused and glanced around, lowering his voice.

“Besides, even if they mobilize troops, after you finish your part, Brock will have nothing else to gain from an alliance with Obadiah.”

“And the queen and younger princess?” Stephen’s hand rested on the knob of your door. Eyes shut while he listened to Loki’s report.

“James is with them now,” Loki nodded. “They’ll be moved once Peter makes the first move. I’m meeting with Thor before dinner to confirm some of the entry points to the castle in case Obadiah tries to deter us once things get.. chaotic.”

Perfect. Everything was falling into place, and you were none the wiser, which meant neither were your enemies. 

Loki disappeared once Stephen summoned a tray of stew and started through the door, unsure how he’d find you on the other side. 

Personally, Stephen wanted to rip Brock to shreds. He wanted to cut the skin off of him and sprinkle salts and other acids over open wounds and watch him scream. He wanted to gauge his eyes out, fling him from the tallest balcony, and listen to his cries for mercy. 

It wasn’t a pride thing. Stephen wasn’t the least bit upset that you’d been sullied or marked by another man, no, he was upset because he’d hurt you. 

And seeing the aftershocks for himself only further fueled Stephen’s rage. 

You were in a sleeping gown, hair pulled loose, legs curled into yourself, fully submerged in your bedding. When he set the tray of food down on a nearby table and stirred you, his heart broke at your swollen eyelids and red, glossy eyes. 

He should have been there sooner. 

“Stephen?” you asked sleepily. You clearly cried yourself into exhaustion, your cheeks still puffy from the ordeal.

“My love,” he sat on the edge of the bed and fully enveloped you in his arms. You were a bit tense at first, but immediately sank into him when he started rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s not your fault-,” you murmured with a small hiccup and a sigh. Pulling away, you looked up miserably toward him. “He’s a monster... we knew that. I shouldn’t have sent Steve to find you.”

Stephen stopped, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your palm, cradling the shaking digits tenderly. 

“You did nothing wrong,” he stated firmly. “A lady shouldn’t have to fear her company- her betrothed- would... dishonor her in such a horrendous manner. You were brave and defended yourself. I’m proud of you for being so strong.”

Your eyes watered again, your bottom lip trembling. A few tears snuck down your face and before you could wipe at them angrily, Stephen caught them with his thumb, his hands moving to cradle your cheeks. 

“Loki... he said he would fix it... is everything...?” you asked meekly and despite the gnawing feeling that lying to left him, he nodded. 

“All is under control,” he assured you softly. “Why don’t you have some stew and continue resting?”

“Will you stay?” you asked, gripe tightening around his hand. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead and helping you settle into bed, before handing off the tray. 

He sat next to you while you picked at your food, listening while you told him about what had transpired in the garden earlier and how your seidr had reacted when you’d fought Brock off. 

“Loki was right,” he noted, passing you a slice of bread from the tray. “It was lucky Amora was off the grounds when that happened. She would have noticed and retaliated immediately.”

You hummed to yourself, dipping the corner of the bread into the stew and taking a small nibble. 

He could tell you were still out of sorts, the fresh exchange with Brock having come so unexpectedly and traumatically. More than anything, he wished he didn’t have to do what happened next. 

“Here,” he finally relented when you barely touched your meal, pulling the tray aside and out of the way. “You should sleep.” 

“I’ve rested plenty,” you protested, but after a pause, gave in and snuggled deeper into your blankets. 

“I’ve got something that should help,” he pulled out the small glass vial, holding it between his fingers for you to examine. The liquid inside shimmered an almost stunning cobalt blue against the light from your fireplace.

“A sleeping draught?” you guessed, reaching for the vial and examining it for yourself. 

“Not quite a sleeping draught,” he explained, plucking the cork free and letting you give the scentless liquid a sniff. “It’ll relax you enough to let you ease into a full and restful sleep.”

“So, a sleeping draught?” you teased with a small grin, swirling the liquid in the bottle with a tilt of your hand.. 

“Call it what you’d like, but it’ll help. You just drink the whole vial,” he instructed, watching you consider it briefly. 

“Am I going to fall into an eternal enchanted sleep?” you asked, joking, but unaware of how close to the truth you were. “Like the old stories?” 

“It won’t be eternal,” he assured you with a forced chuckle, settling his hands at his side so you wouldn’t see him shaking. This was it. The most crucial part of the plan. “You’ll wake with a full night’s rest. It’ll help you feel a little better.”

“At least that’ll help me face him tomorrow,” you murmured, swallowing the contents of the vial in a single gulp. You let out a yawn. “Don’t leave until... sleep..?” 

Your eyes were already fluttering shut and he plucked the bottle out of your hand before it broke on the ground. 

“Stephen?” you asked again, voice laced with sleepiness. “I love you.”

“And I you, princess,” he choked out, standing and pressing a final kiss to your head. “Please know I do this all out of love.”

You mumbled something incoherent before your body fell unnaturally still, the potions effects quickly taking over. 

He had to work fast. Waving his hands over your body, he changed your night dress to the outfit you’d worn earlier with Brock. 

The image made him sick. Your skirt was covered in blood, the corset nearly ripped off your frame- fortunately, your recent tears had swollen your face and reddened it more.

He positioned you delicately above the blankets, draping your hand over the edge of the bed and wrapping the vial carefully in your slack fingers. 

He dug through your nearby desk for some parchment and enchanted a quill to mimic your handwriting. A final goodbye, as far as anyone was concerned.

After all, the events had been so traumatic to you, you’d raided Stephen’s observatory and crafted a deadly poison to kill yourself. 

And aside from him, Tony, Loki, and Wanda- everyone would think it was effective, in turn, removing you from harms way while the castle was reclaimed.

Not even Peter nor Natalia was privy to what he and his fellow magic users had planned. 

Once the coast was clear and your body was taken to the family tomb, Wanda would bring you back to his ancestral home, now occupied by your father’s rebel army. 

Stephen couldn’t imagine you were going to be pleased with his dishonesty, particularly after drugging you and keeping your father’s survival to himself, but at least you’d be safe. 

And in the end, that’s all that mattered. 

Satisfied with the scene he’d crafted, Stephen removed the dining tray with a wave of his hand and portaled outside of the kitchens where he intercepted your personal maid, Violet. 

“The princess is unwell,” he explained, letting the princess expression of solemn sympathy flash across her features. “Could you bring her a tray for dinner?”

No one would know he’d crossed your path, and Amora would be too focused on healing Brock to notice any non-seidr magical ongoings around the castle. 

Excusing himself to his own quarters, Stephen cleaned himself up for dinner... and a show. 

(—)

“The princess-!” he heard Clint call into the dining room that evening. Pepper had excused herself from the meal to tend to the suddenly ill with pox, Princess Morgan. 

Brock had the audacity to actually join the group, with Amora smiling dutifully at his side while he and Obadiah discussed trade routes. 

Loki and Thor had graciously accepted the kings invitation, and as usual, Stephen was in his place next to Peter. 

“What is it?” Obadiah demanded sharply. 

“She’s-,” he paused looking to Brock with unease. “Your majesty, the princess has killed herself.”

Stephen waited until someone else reacted first, putting on the most confused and dismayed expression he could manage. 

“Take me to her,” he demanded with Peter hot on his footsteps.

Sure enough, you were still laying in bed. Someone (probably Violet) had folded your hands over your chest delicately, and placed the empty vial next to your note. 

Stephen made a show of checking you for signs of life, even offering Amora a chance to give a second opinion. 

Fortunately, he was that good at what he did. 

The potion mimicked the effects of death so well, even the enchantress was shocked by the sudden turn of events. He could tell she was trying to feel out any signs of your seidr, but after a brief pause, turned to confirm the truth to her king. 

Loki hissed a curse under his breath and turned on Brock, knife in hand, pressing the cowering king against the wall, demanding justice for the premature death of his bride. 

Peter, for his part remained composed. He ordered that he be the one to inform the queen, and parted with his fists clenched at his sides and his eyes filled with fire. 

“This is... a tragedy,” Obadiah knelt by your bedside, nudging Stephen aside and taking your hand into his. “So young and just before her wedding. A cruel circumstance of the fates!”

Stephen could have sworn he heard Loki snort at the dramatic scene the king was putting forth. 

Thor had managed to pry the prince and king apart, demanding Amora  “remove the villain from his sight before he changed his mind”, leaving the two Asgardian princes, Stephen, and Obadiah alone in the chamber.

“Is there no saving her?” the king asked quietly, looking up to Stephen with a desperate frown. “I know what she was to you. Tell me, is there truly no hope?”

Stephen cleared his throat, letting a slight break in his voice crackle as he spoke. 

“My grace, I’m familiar with the poison, and Enchantress Amora will confirm my words,” he looked down at you with a heartbroken sigh. “The princess was well aware of the potion she was consuming. There is no return. My most sincere apologies for your loss, your highness.”

Obadiah nodded to himself, standing back up. 

“Then the kingdom goes into mourning,” he stated decidedly. “Alert the priests, and have the maids prepare her for viewing.”

He looked at the Odinson brothers, a small sneer tugging at his expression. 

“Perhaps we can renegotiate our trade deal,” he suggested, earning a snarl of insults from Thor. 

The room now empty and the door closed while maids and servants scurried about with the news outside, the two sorcerers exchanged a look. 

“You did well, the effects are convincing,” Loki lifted your arm and let it drop to the bed. “You’ve accounted for rigor mortis?” 

“Brother?” Thor stepped forward, lips pressed together tightly as he took in the exchange. “Surely this isn’t another of your tricks?”

“Of course not,” Stephen waved a glowing hand over your body, a small spell that would mimic the effects of rigor mortis, and eventually wear off as the natural sensation would in time. “This trick is mine.”

He repositioned your hand delicately over your chest. 

“Is the princess... asleep?” Thor lowered his voice. 

“In a sense,” Loki patted his brothers arm. “Keep it to yourself, brother. We need Peter’s fury if this is to go as planned.”

“But she’ll be moved to the crypt-,” Thor started and paused, a knowing smile on his face. “I see. Let me know if I can be of assistance.”

The door swung open and Pepper swept inside with a quiet, red haired, maid behind her. 

“The loss is truly a tragedy of our time,” Thor continued, putting on a better performance than Loki and Stephen combined. “The beast that pushed this beautiful maid to an early grave must face justice!” 

He slammed a fist against your armoire, meeting Peter’s gaze with a passionate nod when the prince reappeared to comfort his mother. 

“Morgan can’t know until the morning,” Pepper stated, her eyes were wide in horro, her voice wavering. “I want that man out of my home.”

She looked between Thor, Loki, and Peter, the men nodding curtly and excusing themselves from the space. 

“Stephen, dear Stephen,” Pepper took his hand. “I’m sorry.”

It was a genuine reaction that, admittedly, startled the sorcerer. He’d had suspicions that the queen had known about the two of you- and you’d as much confirmed them earlier in the evening- but the way she looked to him with such earnest sympathy made him realize something. 

The queen had stood in his very place not even a few months prior. 

She too, had lost the love of her life to senseless violence at the hands of King Brock Rumlow. 

It was no wonder she wanted the king out of her sight. 

“If it’s comfort to know, it was painless and peaceful,” he mumbled with a nod toward the vial. “She fell asleep and felt nothing.”

“That will bring me some peace,” Pepper murmured, eyes returning to your still form. “Thank you.”

She reached for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze before asking that she be left alone with you for a few moments to mourn. 

“Take the time you need,” he stated softly, managing to blink back tears in his own eyes. 

Leaving the room, the countdown began. 

You’d be awake in four days, and he needed to ensure you were out in the family crypt and removed to safety in that time. 

Loki would prod Peter to remove Brock by force, and depending on how the king responded, would likely expedite any funeral plans for you. 

Who would have time to mourn when the castle descended into chaos? 

The queen and younger princess would be removed for their safety and then the real challenge began. 

Getting Peter onto the throne.

“Did you know she would do this?” Natalia asked, pulling Stephen aside after leaving the queen. She caught tugged on his arm furiously. “Stephen, look at me!”

Natalia would be the most difficult to convince. He knew it from the beginning. She was your oldest friend and most trusted confidant. 

“I... she assured me she was going to be fine,” he kept his eyes low, guilty even, if she looked at him too carefully. “We spoke briefly after Loki had informed me... I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight. She’s said she’d wanted to rest.”

“And then you asked Violet to bring her a meal?” Natalia questioned, eyes narrowing. “It’s not like you to leave the princess behind when she’s distressed.”

“I don’t think she was particularly pleased with my gender at the time,” he shot back. “Please excuse me, I’d like some time alone with my thoughts.”

He parted abruptly, praying to himself that Natalia wouldn’t dig around too deeply and ruin this whole charade. 

(—)

Across the kingdom, just outside of the House Strange keep, Wanda lightly touched Tony’s shoulder, eyes glowing bright crimson. 

“It’s happened,” she informed him. “The dawn truly brings a new day.”

“And a new king,” Tony grunted. “I just hope Peter is ready.”

(--)

10 - a trick

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[shadowturtlesstuff]

you belong with me- thomas

this is thomas’s pov. i like doing both pov (i dont know if you can tell) but there are a few things im working on but enjoy!

“How could-? Are you even hearing yourself speak you fool? No- no. God, you know what I'm done.” I throw my phone on the bed, scaring Sir Issac in the process. I cringe even as I begin pacing back and forth. It was truly absurd, utterly crazy, that William lived in such a world where he would ever consider me being with anyone but Audrey Rose. Whilst we weren’t together per say, it was clear there would be no one else for me. The fact that he had already caused trouble for us once makes this even more irritating. I turn and find Audrey Rose already watching me. Her hair disheveled in a messy bun which tells me she is studying or researching something. I give her what I hope classifies as a smile and watches as she pulls out a familiar notebook, searches for her pen and then writes: Are you okay?

Of course she would ask if I'm okay and not what happened; using our absurd way of talking to each other instead of using the window or even messaging me. I shake my head but smile and make my way towards my window. The wind hits me, sending my hair flying but I embrace the fresh air as I watch her move herself off her bed, cursing at her stiff legs. She has been there most of the day, not moving and lost in her work and music. She curses once more as she hits her elbow on the window sill and she looks truly adorable. “You have a wicked mouth Wadsworth. Did you not learn cursing is unlady-like?” I try to ignore the other thoughts I have of her mouth.

“Fuck you,” she scowls at me. It always makes me smile hearing her curse, she always sounds confident in them somehow, making them seem so real. The first time she swore was the time she failed a science test. Well, not exactly a fail, but she was marked wrong by a substitute teacher who didn't like her so she decided to berate him in front of the whole class, starting with her shouting ‘bullshit!’ as soon as she saw her results.

“I assume dear wadsworth, you want to ask what has made me so irate?” As much as I would rather climb across the gap and make her watch another one of my romance films again instead of talk about it, I know that I should. Otherwise it'll eat at my mind when I go to sleep. As well as it being used against wadsworth in some way too.

“Perhaps,” she says, eyes sparkling with mischief as she rests her head on the wall and brings her knees to her chest, “perhaps I merely wanted to ask if Sir Issac was okay.” I nearly burst out laughing at her. She has a love hate relationship with my cat. She pretends to hate the ‘beast’ but will often let him sit on her lap or pet him whenever she is over here. When I first got him, she stayed round mine for the night and we settled him. Even then she had tried to pretend not to like him but she doesn’t remember that she fell asleep with him curled up next to her. I had to sleep on my chair because they were sprawled out, surrounded by her work.

“Really? You always refer to him as a little pest, whereas as with me, I am your dearest person, of course you want to know how I am feeling. My son is good though, very energetic today.” Said cat brushes against me and I look at him, the memory still clear in my mind. Yet I know I need to stop avoiding the problem, Audrey Rose is too kind to push me into telling her, and will let me avoid it for as long as I need. It is not the worst thing we’ve faced yet I still hate it.  

“I assume you saw the call, well that was William,” she nods, her face already falling at the mention of his name, “Yes, awful. Apparently though, there is a rumor that I'm with Miss whitehall. I don't even remember her first name, but he was convinced of our relation despite my protests. Madness.” I scoff at the sheer audacity of him and his friends. Sir Issac nuzzles into me, knowing that I'm upset and wanting to change that. As well get attention.

“Is this the same William that had convinced everyone I was dating him?”

“Yes.” Anger rolls through me at the memory of that disaster. What hurt Audrey Rose the most is that she truly thought he was a friend. She’d explained that with me she didn't try, but everyone else she had too, so when they'd fallen into easy conversations during lessons she really enjoyed having someone other than me and lize and her uncle to talk to.

“Bitch. Why on earth is he such a problem? Where on earth does he even make this assumptions about us?'' She begins pacing, her mind working faster than her steps as she no doubt recalls everything that happened. I am inclined to do the same. I can still remember her walking into her room, looking at me and falling apart. I climbed into her room and held her letting her calm before she spoke to me. I cried as well, slightly, knowing how much that friendship had meant to her. I'd made us watch a really cheesy film and she'd fallen asleep in my arms.

“I have never once,”I say to drag her back to the present “shown interest in her, nor will I ever.” I drag a hand through my hair. “She's just- a lot.” the first time id met her she was just very loud and demanding, I couldn't stand her. I'd watched her insult so many people for being themselves, for liking childish things, or in Audrey Rose's case, morbid things.

“That is the understatement of the year Cresswell. Besides, you wouldn’t work, she's too- your,” she falls silent, either lost in thought or not wanting to tell me those thoughts. Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink and I smile. She doesn't meet my eye as she sits herself down and I raise my brows as she asks what? As though she didn’t just show me that she has many inappropriate thoughts about me. She curls herself into a ball, hiding in her oversized hoodie, which is mine that I'm not sure she realizes is.

“I’m what? I'd be delighted to know your innermost thoughts of me, Wadsworth.”

“You're absurd but fine I'll elaborate,” she rolls her eyes though, even as the pink deepens slightly. Her eyes focused on my own. So I face her fully, like an astute student in class dying to seek knowledge, “you're too kind, too witty and clever and Whitehall wouldn’t appreciate you enough. You-” she stops talking immediately, as though whatever is in her mind she cant voice. Her face twists into something unreadable and I get the sense that she would rather not ever speak about me being with someone other than her.

“You forgot to mention how handsome I look, or how charming I am, but I'll take it,” she suppresses an eye roll and her smile and ignores the way my voice deepens ever so slightly. I pat Sir Issac off me and earn a whine but he jumps off me. I reach out to her and she leans, her hair ripping free of her bun with little effort from the wind. Her dark curls cling to her face, framing her perfectly too. It makes me want to hold her face in her hands and kiss her deeply.

“I don’t need to inflate your ego further Thomas.”

She inflates my ego every time she smiles at me, whether that be because of my joke or simply smiling at me because I am her friend. “I know but it would've been nice. I did say the inner most thoughts but we’ll get there. Audrey rose-I don’t belong with her, you’re right, my heart would never belong to her especially since it already belongs to someone else.”

She blinks at me, her face falling flat. Silence falls over us and I realize she thinks I'm talking about someone else. And idea forms, one that she may hate me for but one I'm going to do anyway.

“I-” she begins, no doubt going to tell me she wants me to be happy without whomever I'm with. I stand before she can say anything and she stares at me for a second so I motion for her to move. I want to be able to hold her and be next to her. I climb over and set myself on her window sill, leaving enough space for her on the other side. “I hope you are happy with whomever has your heart Cresswell.” I try to hide my smirk at her. Preparing myself for the worst. Preparing myself for her calling me an idiot and that she doesn't like me that way. I wouldn’t blame her.

“Of course I'll be happy. She's amazing. Let me tell you all about her. I met her many years back and was instantly smitten with her emerald eyes and her quick witted mind. How she sings to herself every morning and how her dark curls fall across her face whenever she sits on her bed and reads. I adore her curiosity for the dead and how wicked her mouth is and how delightful it is to watch your mind at work. I love when she shows me a note through the window to see if I'm doing okay and-”

“Wait,” she blurts out, her cheeks red now and eyes bright with shock, “Thomas, are you talking about me?”

I can’t help but laugh. She is one of the smartest people I have ever met yet she, just like I do, struggles with social cues sometimes. Albeit it she is better than I will ever be. “Yes, finally! I thought I'd have to keep speaking forever till you realized it was you.” Not that that would be a problem. As of right now I'd happily list the way her eyes are filled with both relief and shock and happiness and it's a look I want to capture whenever I need a reminder of something good in life.

She scowls at me, ignoring her blush. I take a risk and reach out my hand, moving closer so that her back is straightened on the wall, her attention fixed on me completely. No fake scowl or bright smile, just an intent gaze I can't quite pick apart. I rest my hand on her leg, now free of her (my) hoodie. “Wadsworth, darling, I have been in love with you for some time now.”

I stare at my best friend, my love, as she tries to convince herself this is real. It's truly adorable. Then her eyes widen slightly as she whispers: “I have something to show you.”

She jumps from my grip, running the short distance to her bed and then shuffling through the mountain of books and papers sprawled there until she pulls out a notebook and shakes it, letting a piece of paper drop. It's folded and creased a lot, as though it has been opened often. I watch as she faces me and slowly, her face fixed on the sheet as she opens and holds it out to me.

I read the words: I love you.

I love you.

I read them over and over and over, trying to imprint it on my brain. Her delicate handwriting and her confession reaches out to me and I desperately want to reach out to her, hold her against me and press kisses and make her laugh.

Audrey rose takes her seat across from me and I instantly reach out, holding her leg again. Anything to reassure me this is real. “I wrote that the night after you came here the second time.” her voice is soft, her curls once again framing her face as she looks at me, “Something in me clicked that no matter what you'd find a way to comfort me. Not save me, but work alongside me. I wanted to tell you I just couldn't face it. But I needed to acknowledge it. So I wrote it down, and I look at it every time we use the note system; I try to convince myself to show you.” Audrey Rose would never need saving, never want it, yet her words save my own dark heart that she has felt this way for so long, and we have somehow lived alongside each other and been so blinded by our love entwined with fears that it has taken so long to finally acknowledge them.

I debate pinching myself. Only minutes ago was I miserable and upset, yet Audrey Rose has taken her time to cheer me up. Yet even if I had left it as I am fine, even though she knows me better than that, she wouldn't have pressed for answers; would have waited for me to open up. So i lean in and the world stops as we both wait until our lips are pressed together It's a light kiss, one full of promise and wonder. When I lean back we are both smiling so freely my heart feels as though it too is reaching out to hold Audrey rose. We trade kisses, never wanting to leave this loop but I do lean back away from her. I’m already too drunk on her kisses, I need to breathe, to process this so I can remember it. Once my back is against the wall I pull her, twisting so her back is against mine, leaning into my warmth and I rest my head atop hers. Trying to contain my smiles but to no avail. My hand covers hers and as i look down at her i notice she doesn't bother controlling her smile. It is a magnificent sight.  

“Now would be a perfect time to tell me how handsome I am, my love.”

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[comradelup]

@taz-channukah-event / dec 17th: author’s choice!

“Yeah… no, I get it… I’ll tell them, we’ll be fine,” Taako says into the phone, peering out the curtain. The snow falls in big fat flakes, and there’s billions of them. He can barely see the end of the driveway.

He walks away from the window and starts pacing back and forth, very much aware of the three pairs of eyes on him.

“We should just be a tiny bit late, it isn’t that bad,” Lup says over the phone.

“They can’t hear you, Lu.”

“…Yeah, we won’t make it.”

Taako sighs heavily, a hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Okay. That’s fine.”

“It’s not! We wanna spend Channukah with our babies!” Lup whines, sounding very much like a baby herself.

“Well, first off, your youngest is five, hardly babies,” Taako says, sending a grin the kids’ way as he says it. Gordie, the five year old in question, giggles. “Second, it’s just one night, they’ll be fine.”

“…I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am!” Taako says jovially, placing a hand on his hip and winking at the kids. “Uncle Taako’s always right!”

“Yeah!” the kids cheer, and he can tell Lup heard it, because she laughs wetly.

“It’s settled then!” Taako announces, adopting a goofy gesture as he addresses his sister. “You and Daddy hide at Grandma Marlena’s house, while Uncle Taako and his anklebiter army fights off the snowstorm monster!”

Gordie and Izzy giggle at that; Jo is the oldest and least entertained by this but they still smile at the silliness, which makes Taako feel a little less bad about how ridiculous he must look right now. He’s learned that uncle-hood means a lot of sacrificing your dignity for kids.

Izzy says, “Can we say bye to Mommy?”

“Duh!” Taako says, and he puts the phone on speaker to let the kids yell at Lup.

He lets them trade goodbyes and “Happy Channukah”s and everything else that parents and kids talk about. Once the call’s over, he pockets his phone and claps his hands together.

“So! We’re home alone with free reign of the place.” He leans down to grin conspiratorially at them. “What do we do first?”

“Let’s make latkes!” Gordie exclaims.

“I wanna play dreidel,” Izzy says.

“And what about you, fireball?” Taako asks Jo.

“I, uh… I gotta go to the bathroom,” Jo says quickly, standing up and darting away.

That’s… probably something to look into later. But for now Taako lets them go, yelling after them, “Make sure to wash your hands, dirty bird!”

The other two giggle, as intended. Taako crouches before them and says to Gordie, “But I guess I should be telling you that, huh pipsqueak?”

Izzy laughs at him. “Yeah, babies need their diaper changed.”

“I’m not a baby! I’m five,” Gordie says, holding up his hand for emphasis.

“Oh yeah? Well I’m seven,” Izzy says, holding up seven whole fingers while blowing a raspberry.

“And I’m four hundred and twenty-three,” Taako says, “Count that on your fingers.”

Izzy stares at her hands, trying to find a way to do that, but Taako scoops up Gordie into his arms before they get too into math, yuck.

“I’m up for latkes! Who said latkes?” he asks, spinning Gordie in a big circle to elicit a laugh from him.

“I did!” Gordie cheers.

“Then let’s go, latke boy!” Taako says, making an airplane noise as he flies Gordie into the kitchen, Izzy trailing after and saying something about getting a turn.

(Of course, she gets one. The duties of an uncle includes nearly tossing a tiefling girl into the air and not impaling yourself on the way down. At least she’s not the one who bursts into flame when too excited.)

They’re almost done with their first batch of pancakes when Jo leaves the bathroom. They sit down at the kitchen island looking rather gloomy. That’s not gonna fly, not in Taako’s (sister’s) kitchen.

“Hey, you’re ten, not sixteen, no emo angst,” Taako tells them, pointing a spatula at their face.

“I’m not emo,” they reply, sounding… empty.

Taako might not be as good an uncle as he thought; his kids shouldn’t be sounding like that.

“Gordie, Izzy,” Taako says, turning to his little sous-chefs. He tasked Izzy with (carefully) grating potatoes for their second batch and Gordie with cracking an egg into a bowl and (gently) beating it. But they both stop what they’re doing and turn to him.

He plasters on a mischievous smile and says, “Go into the guest room and get the dreidels from my bag on the bed. I brought all of my collection, so pick your favorites.”

The two practically get stars in their eyes and run off to go retrieve the tops. Taako turns back to his pan.

“Spit it out, what’s up with you?” He doesn’t phrase it as a question.

“…I don’t wanna talk about it,” Jo says.

“Is it ‘cause your parents aren’t here?” Taako asks, and his voice gets softer. He glances over in time to see Jo nod silently.

He sighs. At this age, Jo won’t be distracted from stuff with games and food, they actually think broadly. Fuck, Angus is their age and look at all the thinking he does! …Point is, Taako should’ve expected this.

“Listen,” he says, unable to have a formal heart to heart due to having to keep an eye on the food. “I know it sucks, I want ‘em here too. You think I’m happy spending a Channukah night without my twin sister? No way.”

“Then why are you acting like this?” Jo asks, looking impatient. “Don’t just pretend they aren’t here!”

“I’m not pretending, I’m distracting. Look, your siblings would whine and cry if I acted like you are right now. Do you want them to cry?”

“…No.”

“No, ‘cause I don’t wanna deal with the headache that’d give me,” Taako jokes, but Jo doesn’t smile. Taako sighs, moves the pan off the heat, and leans on the island across from them.

“I get that you're sad and I’m not telling you to not miss them, I get it. But we’ll see them tomorrow, and we can all spend the last night together.”

“But… I just miss them,” Jo says, and they’re pouting a little.

“I know kid, me too,” Taako says, “But! That’s the point of me being all upbeat and shit— don’t say that word.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. See, your parents would be mad or sad or whatever if they think you didn’t have any fun. All they want is for you to enjoy the holiday. Like, they’re probably having tons of fun at your grandma’s.”

(Lup and Barry are probably cuddled up on a loveseat and telling stories of the kids to Marlena; fun for them, but Taako would’ve fallen asleep five minutes in.)

Jo still doesn’t look totally convinced. Time to break out the big guns.

Taako leans in as close as he can while his feet are still touching the ground. “You wanna know the secrets to cheating at dreidel?”

Jo looks up at him. “You can cheat?”

“Oh yeah,” Taako says with a smirk. “She doesn’t do it with you kids, but your mom is the queen at cheating at that game. She would walk away from the table with her arms full of gelt.”

Jo looks delighted. Lup never lets her chaotic side show in front of the kids, so Taako’s stories about it are guaranteed to be attention grabbers.

“I can show you how she does it, if you want.”

“Yes,” Jo says, leaning in with their hands on the table. They may be adopted, but that wicked grin on their face just screams Lup.

“But you gotta promise that it doesn’t leave this kitchen, got it?” Taako asks. They can’t have the other two learning about it and they especially can’t have their parents learning he taught them.

“Promise.”

Taako smirks and stands back up to go back to his cooking. “Good.”

Soon they were all gathered around the dining room table with bellies full of latkes and trading gelt back and forth. Taako winks over every cheated spin, and Jo is laughing.

That’s the reaction uncles should be getting. Much better.

[gwoongi]

wordless pt.2

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick au), sugar daddy au, angst rating: mature words: 4.4k warnings: violence mention, toxic relationships, mentioned deaths a/n: oh fyi jeongguk isnt part of the mafias included in these drabbles, he’s a solo hitman who works closely with taehyung nd other mentioned men. he has his own little business/group of hitmen (like the continental kinda style thing) where he’s sort of the big man who people look up to, but he’s not rly mafia :) hope that helps explain stuff hehehe. Also this one is sad heheheh x2

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

(11) Telling them a dumb joke just to see them smile.

“I’m really sorry, baby. I really am.”

Next to you on the couch, Jeongguk reaches for your hands that are clamped in your lap. The clock ticks hauntingly slowly, and everything feels dark, and cold, and empty. The front room that is usually vibrant with life and energy is now devoid of emotion, besides the sniffles on the couch that are hidden in shadows.

“It’s okay,” you reply quietly, sniffing once again. “Not your fault.”

“I know,” Jeongguk says, “but I’m still sorry.”

There was nothing that could have been done. Not really, even though Jeongguk repents at the thought that he could have done something. It was an accident, a car that pushed into another one and sent your parents off the bridge and into the Han River. It seemed impossible, but as of late, the impossible became possible. Jeongguk had heard the news several hours after you, contemplating in the silence of your responses over the phone. Eventually, he asked Taehyung and got more than what he bargained for.

“Is there anybody left?” he asks.

“Like my family?”

“Yeah,” he softly answers.

You sniff once more, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “My aunt, she, uh, she lives in Finland, I think. I don’t know, everybody cut ties after you. Well. After, you know.”

Jeongguk gulps sourly, “yeah. After your brother.”

Somewhere in the city, police sirens blare. From in the kitchen, the small radio still reads out a report of the accident, and if Jeongguk were to rise and look out of the window, he might see the flashing lights from the bridge. When the room goes silent, Jeongguk’s just afraid you’ll hear the report and start crying again.

“Can you, um,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I don’t know, tell me about your day or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeongguk mutters, rubbing his thumb across your hand. “Wore that badge to work today. You know the Dad one?” You nod and he continues, “Got a stir out of my guys. You were right, Taehyung got salty about it.”

You manage a laugh, little puffs of air from your nose. “I should have got him one. Maybe a brother one, I didn’t see uncles.”

“Fuck him,” Jeongguk says, “My gift, my badge.”

“Don’t wanna upset him,” you shrug pathetically, along with a tight sniff that burns your left nostril.

Jeongguk rubs your arm, “He’s not gonna be upset. Seeing you upset makes me upset, though,” he says quietly, and you peer around your hair at him, “what kind of Dad would I be if I let my little girl be upset, hmmm?”

He raises his eyebrows like he’s feigning an innocence and the sight makes you laugh slightly, not enough to distract you but enough to leave Jeongguk satisfied. He smiles and leans over, dropping his head against yours with a little sigh that blows your hair. It wasn’t enough to distract you from the devastation that is losing your family, but if it’s something to make you feel less alone, then he’ll try.

(12) Following their family traditions that they enjoy.

“I can’t imagine your brother doing this,” Jeongguk says, holding a ribbon of tinsel in his hands with an unconvincing stare thrown in your direction. He does this whilst standing near the doorway, just behind your couch, like he’s ready at any moment to leave or come inside.

As he does this, you’re across the living room, waltzing with a tree that stands on an angle, lopsided and skinny and naked with no decorations. The lights sit in a snake-like swirl on the floor, flickering on one setting and in resignation, you sigh loudly and turn to face him.

“Well, the last time he helped me decorate a tree, I was five,” you reason. “It’s been a long time, but my parents always did this with me, and-”

“Yeah, I know,” Jeongguk frowns. Since the bridge, he’s always walked on eggshells around the subject of parents and traditions. Before he knew it, Christmas was two weeks away, and around his tight schedule and endless demand for his presence at work, he figured he had to make up for the lost time by being with you.

Jeongguk never imagined that he’d rely on you to absolve him of his own boredom and self pity, but here he is, on a Wednesday afternoon in your apartment that he unwillingly thinks of as a retreat, a home away from home when things get too claustrophobic back at his own place. Things are messy and complicated and cold there. He likes being here, because of how it feels being here.

But maybe he’s here out of guilt, and you stare at him for a few seconds, recognising this unfamiliar distance in his eyes that screams guilt and discomfort. You don’t want to mention it, scared of what might be underneath the mask he’s wearing tonight.

“If you’re not gonna do anything, can you at least hold the tree so I can put the lights on it?” you ask. “You can just go, if you want.”

“I don’t,” he insists, moving around the couch. “I just. I never did this as a kid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he admits, grabbing the tree as you crouch for the lights, “so this feels a little childish.”

You shrug, “nothing childish about Christmas.”

“Everything about Christmas is childish when you have never really celebrated it,” Jeongguk theorises. Now that he’s holding the tree, it’s a lot easier to decorate.

“We can celebrate it if you’d like,” you suggest. He says nothing, “not like all the gifts and stuff, but just in general.”

Jeongguk smiles to himself and moves so you can weave the lights around the branches. “Alright, sounds like it’ll kill my time this Christmas?”

You scoff, laughing lightly. “Well, isn’t that what I’m here for? To kill your time?”

Jeongguk takes a step back once the lights are wrapped around, and throws an arm over your shoulder, bringing you closer to his body. “Something like that.”

(13) Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.

Jeongguk had asked you to meet him at his place when he got off from work, and thankfully the guard on the gate had let you up early with the promise of cookies the next time you came to visit. You let yourself up to his suite and waited on the couch, a cup of tea steaming on the coffee table and nothing to do but stare at the ceiling, lit up blue with the city outside.

About half an hour later, Jeongguk comes through the front door and drops his shit by the shoe rack. His keys rattle and drop on the counter and a few moments later, he’s moving across the room to the couch where he drops, knees first, setting his head in your lap as he falls.

“Hey,” you say unenthusiastically, stifling a yawn as he groans and stuffs his face closer into your body. He doesn’t say anything, just lies there, and you gently lock your fingers into his hair that seems messy and almost curly and begin to play.

“Tired?” you ask, and this time he moans in reply, a yes, and nothing else is said.

(14) Singing and dancing to their favourite song.

“Remind me again- it’s definitely okay that I’m here as your guest?”

Jeongguk’s hand on your lower back never disappears as he tours you around the room, gently smiling at people around him with a slender glass of wine in the other free hand. It is on this Saturday evening that Jeongguk finds himself in attendance of the Somber-Rain Ball. Unlike any other time where Jeongguk came solo, or with his colleagues from work, tonight he is joined by you, tailored in a beautiful black dress that sweeps the floor behind you, still somehow modest enough to keep you out of the glazed eyes of the other attendees.

“Yes, it is absolutely fine,” he sighs, steering you out of the self-collected gallery that surely belongs in this large and maze-like mansion. “I wouldn’t have brought you with me if it wasn’t allowed, Y/N.”

“I know, but lately you’ve been doing all sorts of things that you probably shouldn’t,” you remind him, curling into his armpit as you cross the dancefloor towards the bar, that slopes to a side and is scarcely populated. A man who stands there bows his head to Jeongguk but ignores him straight afterwards.

Jeongguk laughs, “Isn’t that my thing?”

“I don’t want to get myself into trouble,” you shrug. Jeongguk smiles and kisses the crown of your head.

“Getting into trouble is my job, dear, not yours.” He faces the bartender and slides the drink, “A round of bourbon after the dance, please.”

“What kind, sir?”

Jeongguk hums, then clicks his tongue, “Try the Brothers’ Bond, I heard you just had it imported.”

The bartender nods, “Certainly, sir.”

Jeongguk nods and turns his attention back towards you, right as the young bartender hurries to find clean glasses for the happy couple. Jeongguk turns to your eyes and smiles at the raised eyebrows he sees, and pulls you further towards him as the orchestra finishes their latest piece.

“Isn’t that the bourbon that the Salvatore brothers made?” Jeongguk asks, feigning an innocence and a forgetfulness for the time you brought it up to his face a few weeks ago. You say nothing besides shaking your head, turning towards the crowd as it slightly thins, just as the orchestra calls it for a few seconds, and a song on the speakers takes its place.

It’s just the first few opening chords but Jeongguk clearly is familiar. He sighs loudly, audibly with an “ah” and then tucks himself closer to you.

“Love this song,” he states. “Miss L/N, care to dance with me?”

You look towards the floor, and then back at him: “Yeah, sure. Is this Doris Day?”

Jeongguk seems pleased as he leads you. He takes a center position, caring little about the potential attention he may attract by taking your waist. It doesn’t stop him from doing so, a smile in your hair as he begins the dance.

“Glad you know it,” Jeongguk replies. “I spent a lot of time with my Aunt when I was younger. She loved this song.”

You hum quietly, “She has good taste. I think this song is in that one Tonya Harding movie.”

“Probably,” he scoffs, kissing your hair again and curling an arm tighter around your middle. He is certainly attracting unwanted eyes. In a metaphorical perspective, this is your first dance. Might be your only dance, but Jeongguk’s not trying to wish away the moment, not just yet.

(15) Calming them down when they have a bad dream.

Bad dream. Not you. Tonight, Jeongguk is a victim. 

He shoots himself awake before you have a time to sit up on your elbows, and he pants loudly, searching around the mattress for a weapon but instead, he finds your hands. Jeongguk jumps.

“It’s just me,” you tell him breathlessly, staring at his wide and wild eyes. He gasps, like he forgot you were even there, but calms when he scurries to take your hand in his own.

Jeongguk hates to feel like he needs help, but tonight, he seeks you first. He slides his hands around yours and finds his grip, remembering where and who and presses a kiss to your hand as you lift it to his face.

“Sorry,” he apologises, “bad dream. I’m gonna-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him quietly, now sitting upright. “You never have to say sorry, okay? It’s okay.”

“Mhm,” he agrees half-heartedly. “I’m gonna….get a drink, or something.”

He rises from the bed and quite literally stumbles to the door, coughing the dryness from his throat as he makes his way to the kitchen. From the bed you sit and watch him leave, knowing from routine that when he comes back, he’ll lie awake, stoney, and won’t rest until the morning. He won’t sleep for the remainder of the night, and he’ll sleep in the office.

Jeongguk never talks of his nightmares. He never tells you about the recurring dreams of his past, his past lovers or friends or family. You know that the dreams must be so bad that he pretends to sleep to keep you from worrying. 

He never tells you that he gets them most when you sleep over, because the more aware he is of you beside him, the more he dreams of losing you.

(16) Having a tickle fight until you’re breathless.

There was no contract for your arrangement with Jeongguk. You were part of a very complicated sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, and there were never really any rules to it. You could fall in love with him all you wanted, but all Jeongguk had made clear from the first date was that he didn’t fall easily, and wasn’t seeing you to fall in love. If you fell for him, he didn’t really care. He’d never fall back. (Right?)

Despite there being no rules, you still always felt like taking photos with Jeongguk often felt like a breach of contract, like breaking the rules. Jeongguk had already shown you off to the world of Mafia and crime at the Somber-Rain Ball, but yet you were afraid to take a photo for your own gallery.

There was one, however, that Jeongguk had taken himself and sent to you when he was on a trip in Athens. It was a slightly dark and blurry photograph, from early when you two had met and Jeongguk felt like he had to get you to stay sometimes by playing the role of a lover. In the photo, his fingers are ghosting at your sides, his face is scrunched and in a smile and you’re rolling around on the covers. It’s a live photo, so it moves for a few seconds.

Jeongguk had made you laugh almost to the point of tears, and you can probably still remember the feeling of knots in your stomach, your voice threatening to pee on his bed if he didn’t pack it in. He stopped, reluctantly. He didn’t want to see you pee. He didn’t want you to cry, either.

Back then, he had been generous to avoid tears. (What changed?)

(17) Folding their clean laundry and putting it away.

It’s been a long day. That was obvious by the way Jeongguk called you at two, and didn’t even want to do anything once you got here. Just got home. Are you free, maybe? Like an idiot, you came.

His place was a sight for sore eyes; by the front door, he hadn’t even taken off his shoes, and a pile of cluster and mess led a trail to his bedroom. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, staring at the way he lay with his face down on the covers, feet hanging off the bed stiffly, the curtains drawn, city blaring, TV on a quite volume relaying the emergency call made to the police this morning about the death of Cho Minsu, one of Seoul’s most controversial politicians.

For a few minutes, you remain in the doorway and he remains unmoved.

“...and, although the call made to the police department this morning was made anonymously, the leader of the police department, Choi Seungkwan, seems to believe that the call was made by at least one of the rumoured underground organisations within this city. Just last week, the Twin Tiger Mafia were making headlines after a fire was caused in the center of Seoul, but there have been no confirmations from the police at this time, nor has a statement been issued by the President. One witness said it was the work of one man, which leads the authorities to believe that this is the involvement of a third party.”

Jeongguk appears glum by the news but doesn’t switch it off. As he wallows in his own self despair, you turn back towards the main section of his home and take in the mess. There’s a smashed frame on the floor, and the kitchen is disgustingly overcrowded with dishes, and ashtrays that are like mountains. The living room is cold and empty and clothes hang over the back of his couch. Here, you find not only his clothes from the night before but also the suit from the ball, as well as underwear you know isn’t yours.

Quietly, and without a fuss, you reach for the unknown underwear and with your hand tucked underneath one of his clothes, you scoop them up and toss them into the washer in the kitchen. The ashtray is cleaned, the dishes are put in the dishwasher, and the curtains are drawn. Jeongguk must be asleep by the time you come into his bedroom, carrying the clothes you folded for him to set away in his cupboards.

This will be the second time you have cried in his bedroom while he was sleeping, and as he sleeps, peaceful and perhaps even remorseful, you return back to the front door and slip into your shoes.

(18) Sharing a soft smile across a crowded room.

You dream of him.

It’s the night of the ball. As you’re in the arms of Taehyung, stuck in a dance that will make you look less like a trophy wife for Jeongguk, the man himself is stuck in a conversation near the bar. Probably halfway through the waltz, you manage to lock his gaze. It’s like a movie, where the characters meet in slow motion, and everything seems to be slower and more passionate. All he does is smile, so gently and softly that it doesn’t even look like him.

It’s gone and he’s back to a straight face in conversation before you know it, but it’s enough for you to dream about it. Maybe this time, you’ll add a little bit to it, and create a new story to replace the original. One where the circumstances might be different, or the song, or the man you’re with.

(19)��Bringing them a plate of their favourite sliced fruit.

“...what the fuck is a ‘BARB’, again? Surely not the Barbs, right? Right?”

Slowly but surely, you may be going insane behind this computer screen. You woke up in a cold sweat to the assumption your paper was due today, only by happy surprise to figure out it’s due next week, on a totally different day. It was eight, the sun was shining, and all Jeongguk can hear as he wakes up is keys tapping away relentlessly.

He stretches his arms and moves from the bed, swinging his feet to the floor and as if he owns the place (although if he’s being technical, he does) he heads to the shower and gets himself cleaned for the day he has planned ahead. Jeongguk showers, brushes his teeth and jumps into the clothes he came here in. By the time he’s out, he has time to poke his head into your makeshift study, which used to be a laundry room before the bastard thing broke and you had it moved to the bathroom instead. You’re still working, one leg up folded and a string of swear words leaving your mouth as you stare at the blinking word document.

Jeongguk frowns, nonetheless unsurprised by your antics. Ever since you went back to school, he’s been seeing less of you. Truthfully, it’s fine; Jeongguk is more than used to being alone and he doesn’t like to spend too much time with you. Not because he doesn’t like to, but quite actually for the opposite reason. Jeongguk likes you too much that he’s afraid he’ll give more than he wants to get back. Why fall in love when he can’t afford to?

Jeongguk moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge and getting a bottle of water. Sucking his teeth, he closes the fridge and grabs two apples from the bowl near the kettle. He twists the little device he found from your drawer and removes the stalk for both, cutting shapes out of the fruit into a bowl. He tosses the utensils into the washing up bowl for you to tackle later when you inevitably procrastinate, and before he leaves to go to work, Jeongguk heads back towards where you sit and brings the bowl just in between your hands, in front of the keyboard.

You look up with alarm as he does this, frightened because he came in so silently. He smiles quickly, innocent, and leans forward to kiss you. He tastes like toothpaste.

“Morning, gotta go, though,” he says in a hurry.

Before he moves back, you lean up and steal a second kiss, “so early?”

“Mm, I have to go to work,” Jeongguk replies.

You glance at the fruit. “Did you cut this?”

“Yep. I know it’s so hard to chop fruit, but I did it all by myself,” he jokes. He kisses you a third time, “Really gotta go. Don’t call me ‘til you finish this fucking paper.”

“Like that’s ever gonna happen,” you grumble, turning to the screen with a frown. Jeongguk smiles to himself and ruffles your hair, just before he steps out of the office and leaves you in the silence, collecting his things and leaving before Taehyung threatens to put a bounty on his head for being late to work again.

(20) Washing their back/hair in the shower.

“Fuck, shower sex sucks ass.”

You turn around, almost offended. “What?”

Jeongguk laughs loudly in the comforts of his own bathroom, leaning for a shampoo off the shelf. “I’m not saying you’re bad, I’m just saying it sucks. It’s so...slippery and hard.”

“I thought you liked it,” you reply.

He shrugs.

“Then why the fuck do you insist on it,” you sigh, spinning and leaning for the bottle. He moves it away, “Don’t be stingy.”

“I’m gonna wash your hair for you,” Jeongguk explains, squirting a generous amount into his hands. “Turn back around, love when your ass is against my dick like that.”

You roll your eyes and do as he says. He’s a kidder after he fucks you. Probably a pride thing because he knows he’s done a good job. Jeongguk massages the shampoo into your hair and inhales the scent, because it’s a new seasalt fragrance he saw on Youtube when he was looking at interviews for this one super secret guy he’s after, and apparently Adblock for Safari is shitty and never blocks ads on videos.

“Smells good,” you compliment. “Buy this for your other bitches, or just for me?”

Jeongguk smirks. “Nah, they got the banana one.”

“I thought you hated that fragrance.”

“That’s why they have it and not you,” he says simply. You don’t know whether or not the reply satisfies you. For one, it tells you that you’re his favourite, but it also tells you that he is indeed fucking other girls, which is something you were never totally thrilled to accept or believe. It conflicts you, to the point where you’re silent as he washes your hair.

“What?” Jeongguk asks finally, pulling at your head and half forcing your face to him. “You mad?”

“No,” you reply. “You done with my hair?”

He lets go, “Yeah. Just rinse it out.”

You do that, staring at the little drops of water on the shower door. Jeongguk sighs and switches positions with you, staring at your shoulders as you wash the shampoo out.

“Are you really mad?” he asks.

You sigh, “I’m not mad, Jeongguk.” You peer at him, “promise.”

“Bullshit,” he exclaims, like he’s tired. “I thought you knew I saw other people.”

“I did,” you lie. “It’s fine, really. I’m not, like, judging you for it.”

“Why’s it feel like you kind of are?” Jeongguk asks in response.

You shrug, “You tell me.”

The bathroom’s cold as the shower switches off and Jeongguk leaves first, stepping into the living room with the towel around his waist as you get dressed into a gown in the bathroom.

He looks over his shoulder at you as you exit, turning off the light and looking for your clothes around the room. He tugs, sick and frowning, and so he slowly moves for you across the bedroom. As you’re looking down at your clothes curled up on the chair by his drawers, Jeongguk snakes his arms around your waist from behind and slowly brings you up against him.

You close your eyes, as if to prevent yourself from saying something, and he kisses behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to make you unhappy, baby.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him.

“You know you’re a bad liar,” he mutters. “That’s why you’ll be a good journalist, you’re too good at telling the truth.” You resign, knowing he’s said this speech before. “You can be honest with me.”

You turn in his arms. “Look. I���m not mad. Mad’s not the word. Disappointed, maybe, but life is full of disappointments, you know? I mean. I don’t know...I moved across the city just to live next to you because you asked me to, I thought it could be easier for us to both get what we want out of each other and so it just...kind of sucks that you need other people? It’s like, am I not filling the gaps enough? I thought sugar daddies only had one baby at a time, I thought they were lonely old men.”

“Do I look old to you?” Jeongguk asks, missing the point. Only he knows the point. “And, look. You bring out the best in me. Just look at me.”

“I am looking at you, Guk,” you lament, “but I just see you, and this guy who wants more than he has. It’s sucky, for me, I guess.”

He thinks on that for a second. “You’re not just a baby for me, you know that, I know that, everybody knows that. I don’t even pay you when we see each other anymore, you can’t tell me that’s the same thing we expected to have a few months ago, right?”

“Right, but-”

“But, what?” he questions. “I’m here right now because I chose to be, and because being with you just feels...natural, I guess. I don’t like just calling you to fuck for five minutes because I got stressed out at work. You’re more than that to me.”

It struggles to settle in your stomach, and he stares down at you almost pleadingly. “You know that. You do, come on.”

“Baby...Look. If I was natural, and if I was more to you than a baby, then you wouldn’t need to be calling other people when you’re stressed. If you really needed me, you’d need me. It’s that simple.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, letting go, “It’s not that simple.”

“No, Guk, it is that simple,” you murmur. You smile at him, because you don’t want him to feel too bad about it. He simply stares at you, saying nothing as you look back at your clothes. “I have class tomorrow, so I’m gonna head home.”

He says nothing.

“Good night, Guk,” you call from the front door a few minutes later. He doesn’t reply, and the silence does it for him.

[wayward-mikaelson]

His Little Sister--Part Two

Word Count: 2192

Requested By: @myinconnelly1​ She hyped it up for me and I am glad she did! The part where the Fan ask a questions was all her idea and I love it!

Pairing: Jared x Reader

Characters: Reader, Jared, Jensen, Richard Speight Jr, Misha, Alex, Rob Benedict, Fans, Cliff (Mentioned), Danneel Ackles (Mentioned). Ackles Twins (Mentioned).

About: Months have gone by and the Reader and Sam have successfully (and playfully) hidden their relationship from Jensen. But during a convention, the Reader and Sam don’t know that their soft conversation was heard by a fan who asks Jensen his thoughts about it in front of everyone.

Disclaimer: Language, Quickie (Unprotected--Don’t be silly wrap that willy), Angst, Fluff, Possible Pregnant Reader, 

Disclaimer 2: Any of the shorts that are hot and steamy, I want to put out there that it's in no way disrespectful towards Gen at all. I love her to death and respect that marriage between her and Jared. So when reading those shorts, know that it all takes place in an alternate world where they aren't married at all.

Forever Tag List: @donnaintx​ @myinconnelly1​ @hobby27​ @magssteenkamp​ @elansaidaris​ @440mxs-wife​ 

*18+ CONTENT. ANYONE YOUNGER THAN 18 WILL NEED TO MOVE ALONG. I DO NOT WANT TO RISK MY ACCOUNT BEING THANOSED.

**PLEASE DO NOT COPY AND PASTE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND OR GIVING ME THE PROPER CREDIT. I WORK TOO HARD ON MY WORK TO HAVE IT STOLEN. YOU MAY COPY THE LINK TO THIS WORK AND SHARE IT. YOU MAY ADD THIS LINK TO A MASTERLIST.

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Read PART ONE

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I hold tight to the extra as he takes the fake blade out of themselves and stabs me with it. I pop the 'blood' capsule in my mouth and let it trickle out the corner of my mouth. I chuckle and take a step towards the fake cliff edge.

"Opheila, No!" Jared yells his line from a distance. I turn to him and give a smile smile before turning back to the extra.

"This is for Claire," I say my line in a wicked tone as the extra and I fall five feet into the giant air bag waiting for us below.

"Cut!" Rich yells from his chair. "Now that's what I call a wrap up!"

The extra and I roll off the bag. Jensen is waiting for me on the ground. "That was awesome," he says steadying me. I eye Jared off in the distance. He looks me up and down and winks at me before walking off. We have plans to meet up later.

Jared and I had been sleeping together for some months now. We had plans on telling my brother but, we kind of like the sneaking around. And since we were seeing each other secretly and having amazing hot sex, it made our characters chemistry on set better. Jensen and everyone just thought that it was amazing acting. So what everyone saw as Sam touching and or kissing Opheila, was actually Jared touching and or kissing me.

"So," Jensen and I walk back to the make up area so I can get this thick make up off my face. I feel like a part time clown and part time stripper. "What do you say we go out and celebrate tonight. It'll be me, you, Jared, maybe that chick Jared had talked to months ago, and that extra that keeps checking you out."

I choke on my water. "Jared says that chick," I say chick as smooth as I can. "wasn't what he's looking for. It wasn't going anywhere. Plus what extra?"

Jensen pulls me close to him and points to a dude all dressed up in black. "The demon that you killed before your fall with Claire's killer. He's been looking at you all freaking week and I've talked with him a few times. You might actually like him. Maybe get you back into the dating game."

I choke again. "We will see about that."

After I'm make up I free. I avoid my brother at all costs. I even avoid the journalist that have been hounding me for months. Ever since word had gotten out about my return to acting. every magazine and online news outlets wanted some part of me. And it wasn't because I was on Riverdale before it was because I am YN Ackles the little sister to Jensen.

I do a million double takes as I walk towards Jareds trailer. No one and I mean no one knew about us. We hid it that well. I get to his door when a voice stops me.

"Hey," it's Misha. "Tell that knuckle head it's on." He tosses an empty bottle of fart spray towards me. I barely catch it and realize it still has a smell.

"Oh God, "I make a face and throw it back Misha. "You're fucking gross, Misha." Misha dodges it and laughs as he walks away. The guys and their games and pranks. One of these days one of their pranks are going to back fire on them. Now that will be worth watching.

I walk into the trailer and once the door closes, Jared hands are pulling me away from the visible windows and pushing me up on the wall where no one can see us. "Took you long enough," His voice purrs into my ear as he unbuttons my shirt. I close my eyes and exhale. This is the best way to relax after a day like this.

"Sorry," I fumble with my belt and pants. "I was too busy loosing my brother on set." I finally get my belt off and pants undone. I push Jared back towards his bed, he's already working on his pants. I kick my pants off and throw my already unbuttoned shirt to the side. I walk up to Jared, whose now just in his boxers. His hard erection extremely visible. The throbbing and wetness in my core is screaming for it to be inside of me.

I push Jared onto his bed and straddle his lap. His cock poking me hard through our thin underwear. Jared reaches down between us and shoves not only his underwear off but mine as well. I lift myself up and slowly lower myself over his long, thick and throbbing cock. Jared groans and falls back onto the bed as I begin to move my hips up and down. He feels so good inside of me.

After a minute, Jared sits up and flips us over. He grabs my hands and pins them above my head and thrust deeper and faster inside of me. I bite my lip to keep myself from making a sound. A few small whimpers escape me. I kick my leg up and throw them around Jared waist to make sure he stays deep inside. Jared thrusts go from lightning fast to average and sloppy. He's close and I start to feel myself tighten hard around him.

I look into his eyes, "Don't pull out," I manage to get out in between thrusts and whimpers. With that, I feel Jared slam himself into me releasing everything he's got inside of me. I feel myself let go and arch myself into his chest. Jared slowly thrusts through both our orgasms.

"Wasn't my plan for it to be that short," Jared rolls over and pulls me to his chest. "Still amazing though." He kisses my head. "I love you YN."

"I love you, too, Jared," I take a deep breath until theres a knock on the trailer door.

***

A month as gone by and we are all back home. Jared and I are still seeing each other secretly. Jensen is doing interviews and such about this latest season of Supernatural. I have been contacted multiple time about bringing back my character on Riverdale. Today I gave the middle finger to them. They did me dirty by cutting me off from the show without telling me or let alone talking to me about it. I have a lot on my plate.

Dallas Con.

I walk out of the bathroom of my hotel room and see Jared sitting on the couch. His wringing his hands as he looks up at me. I hand him the stick in my hand. "This one says negative, but the one from last night for sure said positive."  My period was a week late. It's never late. It's always been on time. Until now. Six tests later four say I could be pregnant but the other two say I may not be.  

"We just keep testing," Jared sits it next to the other test I took from last night. "Until we know for sure."

"Babe," I sit next to him and take his hand. "Danneel needed a blood test with the twins after getting wonky test results like this. I'll call an OBGYN tomorrow and get in as soon as I can." I lean in and kiss him.  

"Okay," Jared smiles. "I trust you." He stands up and I stand up with him. "Should we head on down?"

Walking down the hotel hallway, Jared stops us and looks at me. "You know, I can actually see this whole thing being possible."

"That I can convince you to rip a condom off and have you cum inside me," I say. My mind is in the same place. "And to not pull out when a condom isn't in play." Those nights and days where Jared cums in me were always the best.

"Quite a few times, actually," Jared licks his lips which he knows is a dead ass turn on for me. "If we are pregnant, we will need to tell Jensen." Jared leans down to kiss me. "You'll be an amazing mom."  

The convention is a blast. We laugh and joke about our time on set. We even answer questions about Sam and Opheila. I don't think I have ever laughed that hard before. Everything was settling down and it was my cue to go off stage. As I am walking off I hear the next question. 

"This one is for Jensen," a fan says.

"Ha! Mine," Jensen playfully pushes Jared.

"How do you feel about YN being pregnant, becoming an uncle, and Jared being officially apart of the family?"

I spin around wondering if I heard that right. Jared chokes on his water. My brother's eyes widen. Rich and Rob both have their mouths hanging open. I feel the color drain from my face. I look back to see Misha and Alex staring too. The whole ball room is quite. I look back and lock eyes with Jared. How the hell did this fan know?

"What's that?" Jensen asks looking my way.

"How do you feel about your sister and Jared becoming parents?" the Fan asked again. This time there was something in her voice that knew that no one knew.

"Um," Jensen looks back at Jared. The look on his face was unreadable. "I'm still processing that. How do you feel, bro?" Jensen says bro with enough emphasis that makes me make my way to the water.

The rest of the panel is awkward. All questions were about Jared and I. Jensen's entire face is still unreadable that made me nervous. He has only been like this a few times before and it usually ends with him being pissed off.

When the panel is over Jensen walks up to me and takes my arm and pulls me out of the ballroom. Jared is following behind. Jensen takes us to a whole other part of the hotel. Before we know it we are in an empty room. Jensen lets go of my arm and spins around and rubs his face. Jared steps closer to me but I stop him. I don't know what my brother was thinking.

"You guys are sleeping together?" He exclaims making a face. "My little sister and best friend are having sex and a baby. How long has this been going on?"

Jared and I exchange looks. "November," I look back at Jensen who has risen is eyebrows higher than they normally go.

"Six months?!" He claims. "And you guys didn't tell me?! This hurts guys. What hurts more is I have to learn that you guys are having a baby. From a fan!"

Jensen rubs his face again. Jared pulls out his phone and looks at the both of us. "Uh, Cliff is looking for me. Wants me for mine and Misha's photo op."

"Go," Jensen and I say.

I sit on the ground and Jensen sits as well. "We aren't sure if I am pregnant or not. The tests are wonky. Kind of like Dee's were with the twins. And we meant to tell you but we got caught up in the fun of sneaking around." Jensen takes a deep breath and just stares at me. "I'm sorry Jay," I reach for his hand. "If it makes you happy or feel any better, no one else knew either."

"I can see it now," Jensen looks down at the ground and starts to pull at a piece of rug. "It was right in front of me the whole time but I was blind to it." He looks up at me. "So, will you be getting a blood test?"

I nod. "The only way to know for sure. And if I really am," I pat Jensen's hand. "You'll be a kick ass uncle."

"Damn right I will be."

By the end of the next week, Jared and I go public about our relationship and the news that by the new year the two of us will be introducing our first child into the world. A couple months later, Jared and I tie the knot in a very intimate ceremony that included just both our families and closest friends. Three days before Christmas, Jared and I welcome a little girl into the world. She is the most beautiful thing on the planet and watching my brother fall in love with her melts my heart.

By the time New Years Hit, Jared is home on break from filming. We rent out a small apartment on the outskirts of Austin. I had a few more weeks before I was cleared to go back. Jared leads me to our apartment balcony the view is absolutely breath taking. Even at night. Jared pulls me close to him and kisses me gently as fireworks were set off in the distance. "Happy New Years, Mrs. Padalecki."

[justcallmemitchie96]

Just like drops of water

Prompts "This is, by far, the dumbest thing you've ever done" and "People are staring" for @2ya2yao​​‘s Super Junior Prompt Fic Challenge 

It took me ages to finished but I hope you like my first Super Junior piece for different reasons but it´s now here and hope you like.

P.S. The gif of Kongie and the baby the edit is mine. Also I´m writting a Leeteuk fic on Wattapad but is on spanish if you would like to read it my user is DisasterNefilim13 (from that story comes the inspiration of the female on this piece.

Carry a toddler looked like if Leeteuk was going to a trip instead to work, this was something new that he have to do to deal in his wife absence, she had an emergency work trip. He struggled to balance his schedule with his clingy daughter, he thought that her mum absence did actually affect her. 

Once he entered the building with his sleepy daughter, he noticed how most of the people stare at him, it was something that he was used because it was part of being an idol but this was a different kind of attention. He had a casual look and some sunglasses and a blanket over the body the toddler, his manager was helping him with some of his bags. 

"People are staring" he said in a low tone to his unconscious daughter. "Probably more for you that for daddy" he chuckle. 

He walked all in the halls of the SM building saying hello to the people passing by, he stopped on the elevator, but he wasn't alone. 

"Hello" said him to the other people waiting for the elevator. 

"Hi, hyung" said to him someone he knew, Donghae he was smiling but his face change when he noticed the girl in his leader arms. "Wait, what's doing Eunhae here?" 

"Long story" said the eldest letting out a sigh. 

"If you want one manager or assistant can take care of Eunhae while we do the meeting" Donghae suggested. 

"I don't think that it could work" Leeteuk said while he lightly lift the blanket that covered his daughter and Donghae noticed how the girl was holding tight her dad t-shirt. "Y/N had to go to a work trip and Eunhae doesn't want to leave me, yesterday I did a program while she was asleep but when we woke up made a tantrum and had to do the rest of the show with her playing in the set" he explained with a little smile. 

"She really must be missing her mum" said looking at the toddler. "It's the first time Y/N she goes to a work trip since Eunhae was born, isn't?" 

"Yeah, she's more used to be with her mum and now she's gone, she doesn't understand why" 

While they were talking they arrived to the meeting room, Donghae helped him with Eunhae bag and both enter to the room, most of the members have arrived already. 

"Hello" said Leeteuk doing a little curtsied while holding his daughter. 

"Why did you bring Eunhae?" asked Shindong confused. 

"Are you practicing to be in The Return of Superman?" added Heechul. "Cause I'll do if you too" 

"Y/N went to a business trip" responded Donghae. 

"Oh, that makes sense but still think about my offer" said Heechul making a wink. 

"Your kid just born a few months ago" added Yesung. 

"I wanted to be part even before having kids now I have one and can be part" 

"I like the show but I'm not sure, the fans still don't know Y/N and she likes that, it's more comfortable for her and Eunhae" Leeteuk said while watching his daughter and he could notice that she could wake up anytime soon. 

"Hey, but don't you upload pictures of Eunhae and Kongie to Instagram" comment Yesung, thoughtful. 

"He doesn't show her face" defend Kyuhyun. "Yet" finally adds with a wicked smile. 

"Hello" Siwon said behind them, making them turn around. "Uh, hyung you bring Eunhae?" asked curious. 

"Yeah, she didn't wanted to stay with my sister" 

"And Y/N?" asked again the newcomer. 

"In London" answer the leader. 

"I get it, so Eunhae had increased the attachement with you, right" 

"Siwon are you a psychology or something" said Heechul impressed, cause everyone noted the hold she had on her dad. 

"No, it's something I read on a book about child behaviour, those are quite interesting" 

"Why are you talking about children?" asked Ryeowook walking into the room. 

"This is what happens when some members started to have children" added Eunhyuk jokingly. 

"Oh, look how cute looks Eunhae" said Ryeowook when noticed the baby and walked to see her. "She's definitely prettier every time I see her, she has definitely her mum genes" 

"What if we better start the meeting?" comment Leeteuk to change the subject of the conversation. 

They started their meeting, it was mostly to see the plan of their new comeback and a new season of Super Junior Returns, they talked about how to fit their individual schedules with their team at SM. When Eunhae wake up, the members were just casually talking, his dad was the first to noticed. 

"Oh, look who wake up from her nap" said in a cute tone, the one he use with Kongie and Eunhae. The toddler just smiled and looked to her dad. 

"I can't really get used to this" said laughing Eunhyuk. 

Eunhae change her attention to her uncle, and the she looked confused, and started to look between her dad and Eunhyuk. 

"Poor Eunhae looks like she just found out someone looks like her daddy" added jokely Donghae. 

"Please don't make her confuse, she still too young for your games" comment Siwon looking the maknae expression. 

"Yeah, don't do that if Y/N found out about that she'll kill me" said Leeteuk worried. 

"It never worked on her" comment Ryeowook disappointed. 

"Eunhae, come with uncle Kyuhyun" said the youngest to the toddler, she got closer to Leeteuk and tried to hide on her dad chest. 

The attitude of Eunhae made the rest of the members smile but Kyuhyun didn't stop his attempts to call her attention. After 5 minutes the girl went to his arms. 

"Please don't make her cry" ask for it, Leeteuk he knew his members and also assumed the evil maknae intention. 

"I just want to help you" answer playing around with the toddler. "Eunhyuk, can you sit next to Leeteuk?" asked to his hyung.

Eunhyuk was curious about what Kyuhyun was planning to do, like the rest of the members, even when all thought the same. 

"Eunhae, where's daddy?" asked cutely, making her smile and pointed out between Eunhyuk and Leeteuk. 

Eunhae looked to both men, she surely knew her dad but the two man in front of her looked so similar and she got frustrated, first she started to pout and in a few seconds the toddler started to cried uncontrollably, Kyuhyun tried to calm her but didn't worked. 

Eunhyuk and Leeteuk stood up quickly, getting close to the toddler and calm her, she only wanted her dad but both react to Eunhae crying. When she saw the familiar face she tried to free herself from Kyuhyun hold and she did with a little help from her uncle. 

The members were surprised when Eunhae was calm once again but the biggest surprise was for her dad that watched next to Kyuhyun, she didn't realised that Eunhyuk was holding her instead of him. 

"I feel betrayed by my own daughter" commented Leeteuk, as he was staring at Eunhyuk playing with his daughter. 

"She just likes her uncle Eunhyuk" comment Hyukjae walking close to his leader to give him his daughter. 

Once Eunhae was in her dad arms she smiled to him and put her head on his chest, close to his heart, that action made the rest of the members let out a sigh for the cuteness of the toddler. 

"Hyung, even though Eunhyuk can help you to take care of her while you work" added Ryeowook. 

"I really don't have nothing in my schedule this week" said Eunhyuk shrugging his shoulders. 

"Surely she doesn't like to be unknown places, surrounded with lots of people" added Kyuhyun. 

"You're right, she's been stressed" agreed Leeteuk. 

He knew that this isn't going to be a good idea once his wife found out but it was the best for Eunhae and his sister probably would help him but he tried before and his daughter didn't like that option. 

Eunhyuk definitely wasn't going to make fun of Leeteuk and Heechul for complain about parenting, it was hard. Eunhae wasn't a baby and he had to be behind her, Shimkoong playing with her and be around her like a protector was a problem sometimes. He literally had to learn how to be a dad for a one and a half year old. 

"Eunhae what if we watch something different to Poporo?" asked Eunhyuk to the girl sit next to him but she was too focus on the TV and someone called to the door. 

"Who could be?" he said to himself. 

"Hey!" said Donghae smiling and entering the house loudly. 

"What are you doing here?" asked the eldest surprised. 

"I thought you might need some help" said showing some bags that he bring. "And also I wanted to see Grace" 

"You too call her in her american name" answer surprised. "But she's watching Poporo with Shimkoong, they act like sisters" 

"Shimkoong was Leeteuk first daughter, even Y/N had to win her" added Donghae laughing. 

Both men were watching the toddler from the kitchen and she was still in the same position. 

"How are you doing as a babysitter?" 

"Hahaha" said sarcastically Eunhyuk. "With all the instructions from Leeteuk and the ones Y/N leave him, have been easier but is still challenging, I realised kids are unpredictable" 

"Well you can practice before you have your own" comment the youngest. 

"Leeteuk couldn't practice a lot before Eunhae and he seems doing a good job"

"Basically he have just taking care of us since our trainee days" 

"You're right" agreed Eunhyuk. 

"We should eat before the food gets cold" 

"I need to prepare Eunhae food, smoth baby food"

"I bought something for her, I'm sure she will like it" said Donghae surely. 

Both men took care of the toddler, they played with her and even shared her afternoon nap. Leeteuk was supposed to arrive soon for Eunhae bath time. 

"Leeteuk says he's on his way here" informed Eunhyuk to the youngest who had the girl in his arms. 

"You heard that Grace, your dad is coming" she just looked him, recognition dawned on her face. "You know your uncle Eunhyuk isn't your dad" he said in a low tone making the girl let out a cute laugh. 

"Eunhae, here's your little snack" Donghae sit with Eunhae on sofa, the other man bring a plate and a bib. 

Eunhyuk put her the bib, when she was free and saw the fruits that her uncle prepared her, picked the fruits with her hands, both men laugh seeing her eat. 

"I have an idea" said suddenly Donghae. "She doesn't talk properly, does she?" 

"No really, at least not for the time I have take care of her" answered his bandmate. "Why?" 

"We can help her to say dad and surprise Leeteuk when he arrives" 

"I'm sure that we can't do it in less than a hour" said Eunhyuk denying with his head, he was sure his friend really had bad ideas and this was one of those. 

"Let's try" said Donghae and hold Eunhae and place her in front of his friend. "Take her snacks" 

"Okay" 

They tried to make the girl say the word 'Dad' in their language and on english but say didn't even tried. 

"Leeteuk is coming soon, what if you show her a picture of him and we keep saying dad only in korean?" comment the youngest of the men, cheerfully. 

"Well, we could try" agreed the other man. 

Donghae sit Eunhae again between his legs and Eunhyuk searched for a picture of his leader to show the little girl, when she saw it, she became excited. 

"Oh, who's here? It's dad" said cutely Eunhyuk when he saw the girl reaction. 

"Yes, Grace" added Donghae. "Dad" 

"Dad" 

They keep going for a few minutes, but they were so focus on their task that they didn't hear that someone arrived. 

"Who's in front of you? It's Dad, just say it one time that's enough Grace" said the man holding the girl. 

"D-ad" finally said the girl. 

"Yes, finally she said Dad!" Both men celebrated on the floor with the girl. 

She said one more time and went to the other man, and he held her and Eunhae saw someone very familiar and started to make noises calling the men attention. 

"Eunhyuk, why my daughter called you dad!" said furiously the new arrival woman. 

"Y/N" said surprised the mentioned. "I can explained she didn't…" his voice had a little fear. 

"First, tell me where's my husband?" she asked more calmly. "Come with mummy, Grace" said to the toddler in the man arms. 

"He's…" started to say Donghae when the door opened. 

"Eunhae, daddy is home" said cutely to his daughter, she was more excited her both parents were home. 

"Can you take Grace to her room?" asked politely Y/N to Donghae, he agreed quickly, trying to escape to the trouble that he caused. 

"Park Jongsoo, come here immediately" demanded Y/N, he instantly knew he was in trouble and he didn't knew why. 

"Jagiya, you're home" said Leeteuk once he was in front of his wife, he tried to hide his fear, Y/N was a bit scary mad. 

"Eunhyuk you tried before with me and didn't worked and why did you play with my daughter tell her that you're his dad" Y/N ignored what her husband said, she was between both men, staring furiously. 

"You really did that" asked calmly the eldest man to his member. 

"No" Eunhyuk respond honestly. 

"Then when I arrived she said dad and when to you" added the woman suspicious. 

"Because Donghae is stupid and have stupid ideas, he wanted to teach Eunhae to say dad and one of them it was me showing her a picture of him in my phone, she did but the she wanted my phone and I held her for that" Leeteuk laugh at the explanation of this member, Donghae always was causing big trouble from little things. 

Y/N had her hand in her nose, she was looking to the ceiling hiding a small smile. 

"Go with Eunhae, and tell Donghae to come" 

Eunhyuk leave relief, leaving the couple for a few minutes. 

"Why D&E are at home?" asked Y/N leaving out a little laugh. 

"Don't get mad but Eunhae didn't wanted to leave me and a had some programs this week and she confused Eunhyuk with me in the meeting I had with the members and Kyuhyun said that Eunhyuk could help with Eunhae" said Leeteuk embarrassed. 

"What about your sister?" 

"The problem when you left was that Eunhae didn't wanted to leave my side and it seen to work for both of us, a set isn't a place to her" 

"This is by far the dumbest thing you've ever done" said Y/N smiling, she was happy to be home. 

Leeteuk kissed her, he knew that she wasn't longer mad and probably Donghae had been saved from being scolded.

[penwieldingdreamer]

My best friend, naughty lover and partner for life

So, another part for you guys, sorry it took a bit to get it done. Hope you guys will like it. If you want to be on the taglist let me know. Have fun reading.

Warning: cute Keanu, cursing, returning ex-boyfriend, fighting

Words: 1681...sorry for the reeaallyy long chapter

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4

“How's the bean doing?” his deep voice rumbled behind you as you were riffling through the cabinets, searching for a file containing the items for the new custom order.

Turning around with a soft gasp, one hand on the shelf the other on your bigger belly, you glared at Keanu. Ever since the talk at the cemetery, you both had grown closer than before. You had exchanged the experience of your pregnancy with him. Whenever he was gone for sometime you'd send texts and info about the baby, which the dark haired actor ordered you to do after you had gotten back to the shop that day. “You nearly gave me a heart attack Ke.” you admonished, a finger raised at his face.

“Sorry.” he smiled at you, his hand raking through the longer hair. It was his weekend off from filming John Wick in New York and the first thing he did, was coming to the shop. “I hoped you'd be happy.”

Giving him a soft smile yourself, you patted his cheeks, finally having calmed your racing heart. “I am happy, I mean who isn't happy to see Keanu Reeves standing there and smiling boyishly at them.” He laughed, pulling you as close as possible with your rounder belly between the two of you, giving you a tight hug. “But seriously, it's your weekend off and you want to come in to work? What the hell, Reeves?”

He shrugged his shoulders, his brown eyes gleaming with mirth. “It's not like I had anything planned and why wouldn't I enjoy a visit to see my good friends. But now, you didn't answer my question.”

“Yeah, because I was trying not to have a heart attack or spontaneously give birth to my child.” You retorted, lightly slapping his shoulder which caused him to groan softly. “Oh come on, it wasn't that hard.”

“No, but I'm an old man now.” Keanu joked slinging his arm around your shoulder before he looked at the name on the sticky note. “New client?”

Nodding your head you took the file you had been looking for, which to your great surprise was right on top. Damn that head of yours for having so many memory gaps. “By the way the 'Bean' is as big as a scallion and it's not an 'It' anymore. Doc got the baby to show herself.”

“A girl.” he whispered, starring down at the roundness of your middle. His eyes held a light of wonder and you saw his fingers twitch as if he wanted to feel her but he swiftly buried his free hand in the pocket of his jeans. “That's amazing. I'm happy for you, Y/N.”

Reaching up on your tiptoes, you softly placed a kiss on his bearded cheek. Even though he wasn't the father, Keanu was more invested in this than other fathers-to-be. Maybe it was because of his past or his overly generous heart, who knew. Yet you wouldn't change it. “You want some coffee? Laura made some before you got here.”

“Should you be drinking coffee?”

Laughing, you just shook your head. It was so typical. “It's not for me.” you answered, holding onto the arm that was still hooked around your shoulder. “It's for the clients. Besides I am allowed to drink coffee, just not too much and to be honest I prefer milk with a splash of coffee.”

“Good to know. You really need to take care of yourself.” he leaned down and softly kissed your cheek, his beard scratching you but you couldn't hold back the giggle that escaped you. His masculine smell and after shave assaulted your senses, your knees growing weak. You did everything you could to keep yourself upright even with the weight over your middle. Laura grinned at the two of you from the counter, Gard standing behind her.

She once had commented on Keanu being quite affectionate and attached to you. “You sure he only wants to be an uncle?” she inquired the time you had ended a video call with him after he had to make sure that the baby and you were absolutely healthy. “He sounds more like a runner up for Father of the Months than Uncle of the Year.” You had laughed it off, although you had to admit it kind of felt like this, too.

“So, Ke, how's filming in New York?” the mechanic and co-founder asked his friend, holding out a cup of steaming coffee.

The dark haired actor grinned, letting go of you and taking the mug with a soft Thank you from his business partner. “It's good, loads of fun actually. The training at the shooting range was incredible.”

You smiled at him, as usual his hands were always there to emphasize the words he spoke. It was a trade you found cute despite him being nearly fifty. On this note, you had to give it to him, that he was still looking good for his age. Thinking about Tommy, he'd probably look like eighty by the time he was Keanu's age from all the smoking and partying he did since last year.

Turning back to you, his dark eyes watched you and you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks. Thank the Lord it was still warm in LA, so you could blame your flushed face on the weather and your pregnancy and not the reaction to his look. How you were able to hide the feelings you had for him, was beyond you. Maybe once he was really back from New York you could have a talk with him, open up about what was happening between you both.

A commotion by the shop entrance brought all of your attention to the guy fighting Max, one of the mechanics, to get inside. The blonde surfer dude trying to force the burly guy out of the way was hilarious to watch, but you would recognize the man anywhere.

“Tommy?” you questioned making your way over to the two men still going at it, hearing Max telling your ex-boyfriend to quit it and hit it. “What are you doing here?”

The blonde turned to you, stumbling over his own feet and you knew he clearly had too much to drink. “Ah, there she is.” Tommy opened his arms as if he wanted to receive a hug, but you just stood there and crossed your arms over your chest, unfortunately emphasizing your larger bust due to the pregnancy. “My little witchy slut.”

He sneered at you, the once warm blue eyes turning cold as ice. With every step he took towards you, you could feel your heart racing, your throat closing and making it harder to breath. Max stood behind him, ready to pounce should he need to. You were like his little sister and the fact that you were pregnant wasn't helping Tommy should he do something stupid.

“I see you've taken it up a few notches.” your ex pointed out, looking at Keanu over your shoulder with a smirk on his thin lips. “You been fucking him behind my back, so you could push that child on me and rant about my cheating on you?” Seeing him like that you couldn't understand how you ever had feelings for this imbecile.

“Hey bud, shut it.” the dark haired actor behind you hollered, sending a glare at Tommy. If you didn't know it better, you'd think John Wick personally was standing with you and ready to shoot him in the face.

“What do you want, Tommy?”

There was no time to react as the blonde moved over in the blink of an eyes and grabbed your chin. He was easily a head taller than you, not as tall as Keanu, but enough to intimidate you. “What I want is for you to come back and do as you're told, bitch.”

“No.” you whimpered, trying to free yourself from his grip and you felt your eyes watering, not just at the pressure but from the fear that churned your stomach and sped up your breathing. Before you left, Tommy hadn't been like this but Helen had told you that he came by the diner, asking for you. Now he finally found you.

The actor moved swiftly, reaching for his arm and trying to pull him off. He was holding onto everything he had in him not to deck him, he couldn't have a restraining order or any other charges against him right now, not with the upcoming projects he had. His brown eyes turned cold as he looked at the young man in front of him. “Listen here, bud. You let go of her right now,” his fingers dug into Tommy's arm and pushed him away. “And then you will leave these premises. Never come back here or I'll call police.”

“Oh yeah, grandpa? You wanna fight me?” The blonde moved away from you, smirking at Keanu as he held up his fists, ready to fight him. “Come on, old man,” he egged him on. The actor breathed deeply, closed his eyes and let his fist fly.

One well placed hit against his nose and your ex was knocked out on the floor. It felt like you were in the movie, but seeing the blood on the floor made it quite real for you...and your stomach queasy.

Keanu put his hands on your cheeks, the slightly callused fingertips brushing along your skin. “You okay?”

Shrugging you searched his brown eyes with your own, not sure how to answer or if you would, you were afraid of throwing up. The actor saw the paleness of your skin, heard the harsh breathing and knew you were about to have a panic attack. He pulled you in his arms, laying your head on his shoulder and lightly kissed your temple, reassuring you that Tommy couldn't do anything to you. “I'm taking you to the doctor, get you checked out and then we'll talk. I won't let you stay here while he's still around.”

Part 5

Taglist

@meetmeinthematinee @ladyreapermc @axshadows @a-really-bi-girl @fanficsrusz @ficsnroses @toomanystoriessolittletime @fortheloveoffanfic @pinkzsugar @lunaeminxxx​ @momorix3​ @sallyp-53​ @keanureeefs​ @baphometwolf666​​ ​ @mrspeacem1nusone​

[avengershumanresources]

blood 8 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 7 - part 9

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

WARNING: Attempted sexual assault/violence

8 - a secret

The news swept over the castle like a wave at high tide.

Prince Loki and Prince Thor were leading a brigade of men toward the castle, and the rumor was that the princes were furious with Obadiah. 

“I did say trust me, didn’t I?” Stephen joked while the two of you watched the men cross the threshold into the castle grounds, both princes sitting majestically upon their steads, leading their entourage inside. 

“They’re going to get themselves killed,” you murmured.

“Obadiah wouldn’t be so forward in front of the public,” Stephen reasoned, eyeing the Asgardian guardsmen as they continued their march inside. “They look like they’re ready for a war now. He’s be stupid to start anything with the men they’ve brought.”

He wasn’t wrong. The men looked as angry as their leaders were rumored to be. Their armor shimmered against the bright summer sunlight, and their weapons didn’t look like they were in town for a diplomatic mission. 

If you hadn’t known any better, you would have guessed they had plans to overthrow the castle themselves.

“He is on our side, right?” you asked again, nervous at the confident way the brothers surveyed their troops below. 

“Yes,” Stephen assured you with a confident nod of his head. “They both wish to see Peter safely on the throne.”

“I hope I don’t actually have to marry him,” you blurted out, catching Loki’s eye and offering a small wave in his direction. He bowed his head and rounded his horse into the castle behind the last of his infantry.

“Oh no?” Stephen teased, pinching your arm with a chuckle. “Did Brock win you over with his boyish charm?” 

“Gods you’re unbearable sometimes,” you shoved his arm and started back for the castle. “Let’s get ready. I have a feeling court is going to take a while.”

(—)

“Announcing, Prince Loki of Asgard,” Sam bowed and stepped aside while the dark haired prince sauntered forward, ignoring the wave of whispers and dirty looks that were sent his way by the court. 

You were seated a few levels down from your uncle with Peter and Pepper. Morgan was with her nursemaid, and the rest of the court stood on the ground, watching the scene unfold with great interest. 

“You have a lot of nerve showing up,” Obadiah opened, glaring down at him. Brock was at his side, arms crossed while he glowered down. 

“You have nerve with your slander, your majesty,” he snapped back. “Defaming your closest allies for what, this traitor?” 

“I remind you, you’re standing in my keep,” Obadiah snarled back and Loki laughed. 

“My brother and my men are already within your walls, with reinforcements waiting at the border,” he countered sharply. “I dare you to make a move against me. Even with your hound at your side, you would be making a very powerful enemy.”

Obadiah exchanged an uneasy look with Brock before clearing his throat. 

“Why are you here?” 

“You’ve stolen my bride,” Loki stated simply, eyeing drifting in your direction. You kept your expression neutral, despite your heartbeat kicking against your chest. “I’ve come to collect my due and close what relations Asgard has with you. Unless you have something to offer to appease my father’s understandable frustrations.”

The murmurs started up with that. 

Peter even leaned over and whispered in your ear. 

“He didn’t mention that,” he said, frowning, his fingers curling nervously against his armrest. You reached over and touched the top of his hand, focusing on calming your younger brother. 

“You know how he is,” you reminded him softly, willing calm toward him. After a moment, you saw his body relax. “He’s negotiating. You know our uncle won’t listen otherwise.”

Peter gave a curt nod, returning his focus to the scene before you, and listening intently to the exchange. 

Amora, for her part, had been ignoring the whole ordeal until you tried calming Peter. When you pulled your hand away, you instantly felt her eyes bore into you from across the room, where she and Stephen stood away from the crowds. 

“I was under the impression there was no claim to the princess,” Brock cut in, glaring now at Obadiah. The tension between the three men was palpable, even in the massive throne room. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, there wasn’t,” Obadiah hissed, waving away the other king and returning his attention to Loki. 

“I beg to differ,” Loki reached in his robes and pulled out a rolled document. The entire room was on edge as he passed it to Sam and the knight handed it off to the king.  

Obadiah took his time in unfurling it. He skimmed it over, expression reddening, with Brock reading over his shoulder. 

“Forgery!” he cried, throwing the document aside. Loki snapped his fingers and the paper materialized back into his hands. 

“This was written three days after the princess’ brith, pledging her to me when we came of age,” he explained coolly, mostly to the crowd. Ladies and lords gasped at the revelation, eyes darting between the royals at the scandal.

“Why weren’t you married sooner?” Obadiah demanded, ignoring the cutting scowls from Brock. “She’s had her blood for years now. The contract is no longer binding.”

“We were to be married after the king returned from battle,” Loki lied easily. “But the princess was distraught and asked that it be postponed. I, ever the gentleman, respected these wishes until such time there was stability in the kingdom. I never imagined such a betrayal by an allied nation would have occurred in such a short time.”

Eyes shot to you while the kings continued their interrogation over who would eventually take your hand. 

You kept your eyes down, only looking up to Pepper when she lightly touched your hand with a loving smile. 

“The princess mentioned none of this,” Obadiah howled, and when attention was diverted back to you, Loki jumped in and saved you from embarrassment. 

“Of course she didn’t,” he stated, tone as calm and cool as it’d been when he entered the room. “Look at you, she’d lost her father and potential betrothed in one sweep. She was probably terrified to go against you. It’s why I’m here, to defend her honor, take her as my bride, and return to Asgard.”

“I won’t allow it,” Brock voiced, stepping down from Obadiah’s side and moving to the ground near Loki where he continued his case. “The princess has agreed to marry me.”

“Under context of further terror, I’m sure,” Loki supplied sharply. “Your men slaughtered her father, leaving nothing behind. What other option did she have but to agree?”

“Do not play this court for fools,” Brock hissed. “We all know it was Asgard who planned the attack and framed my kingdom. The trading negotiations were never enough.”

“Is that so?” Loki asked, expression darkening. “I was under the impression that the trade routes benefited this kingdom handsomely. Is it not convenient that I’ve been given permission from my father to end our agreement if I see it necessary?”

The room began to panic at this. A few of the lords even voiced their protest at the concept, and seeing that he was losing the crowd, Obadiah bellowed out.

“Enough!” his voice rattled against the glass in the windows and echoed through the chamber until everyone fell silent. “I will convene with my council until the matter is resolved. Loki, you and your men will be our honored guests until this… confusion is settled.”

“I accept your invitation,” Loki smiled snidely at Brock with a grand bow. “My men will settle in the land surrounding the castle for the time being, and appreciate your generosity during this… difficult time.”

Court was dismissed, but ladies and lords lingered, watching the royal family and the kings as they turned the public spectacle into a more private conversation. 

“Princess?” Amora questioned, appearing at your elbow just as you stood from your chair. “May I have a word with you?”

Eyes wide, you tried to seek out Stephen, but he was nowhere to be seen, likely caught up in the crowd answering questions and speculations from the lords and ladies. 

“The princess and I were about to enjoy a walk through the gardens,” Pepper looped her arms through yours, throwing on another smile. “You’re welcome to join us. I will try not to be a bother.”

Amora’s gaze flickered over the queen, her plastered on smile faltering slightly at the offer. 

“I’d be honored, you majesty,” she finally stated, letting Pepper lead the way to the gardens with a pair of guards behind. 

“It’s a beautiful day, don’t you agree, Amora?” Pepper started the conversation, forcing Amora to keep in step with you and the queen. “I planted some roses last year that have finally come to bloom. Do you like roses, Amora?” 

“I do,” the sorceress answered tersely before turning to you, eyes glowing an ominous green. “Princess, what do you make of what just occurred? Is it true you were frightened from telling the truth of this prior betrothal?” 

“My late husband always intended for the princess to marry Loki,” Pepper answered before you could even open your mouth. “It was hardly a secret. You should have seen the two at balls when they were children. It was so endearing.”

“Then do you protest the marriage of the princes to my king, your grace?” Amora tried and Pepper stopped, pulling her arm free of yours and giving the sorceress a once over. 

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, witch, but I suggest you stop,” she practically growled at the blonde. “My daughter will not marry your king, and your schemes will be stopped before the moon is full.”

Amora’s eyes snapped back to normal, her pupils flaring at the overt threat. 

“How can you be so confident?” she countered, voice full of venom. “You would do well to stay quiet and pretty on the side. You’re no longer queen, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“My son will sit upon the throne in three months time,” Pepper reminded her. “And if there is any obstruction to that, those who stand in the way of the Stark family will burn. Darling, what are the family words?”

You startled at the shift toward you.

“We shall overcome and conquer,” you recited quickly before Pepper returned a razor sharp smile toward the sorceress.

“I think your king might need you,” Pepper added, waving away the blonde and turning toward her roses without so much as a second glance. “Gods know we don’t.”

You’d never heard such open hostility from your step-mother. The woman had always had a calm reserve about her that you’d respected during times of crisis. She’d been the voice of reason when you’d seen your father fretting over alliances or military tactics.

Amora hesitated a moment, looking from Pepper to you, before letting out a resigned sigh and leaving the two of you to the flowers. 

“Is she gone?” Pepper asked, tinkering with a rose that was struggling to bloom. 

You waited until Amora had returned to the castle interior before confirming she was out of sight. 

All at once, Pepper enveloped you into her arms and sighed, squeezing you against her chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against the top of your hairline. She pulled away after a moment, her hands still lingering on your shoulders while she tried to read your expression. “This is never what we had planned for you.”

The honesty in her tone broke your heart. How many times had she and your father discussed your future? Your prospects?

“We can only do our best,” you murmured. “Who could have predicted the turn this would have taken?”

“If you had to choose, who would make you happy?” Pepper asked seriously and you considered her words carefully.

“Of the two?”

Pepper’s expression lifted at the question, a knowing smile playing at the edge of her lips.

“I see,” she hummed in thought. “That damned idiot never came forward.”

Feeling your face warm at that, you sighed with a defeated laugh. 

“He probably thought there was more time,” you reached for one of the nearby roses and gave it a sniff.

Pepper paused, and when you looked to see why she hadn’t spoken, her expression had fallen, eyes lost a million miles away.

“I think we all did,” she finally whispered, blinking back the pooling water in her eyes. “I do believe you could be happy with Loki.”

You made a noise- not quite of agreement, but not of total disgust. 

“He might even allow you certain… liberties,” she offered lightly. “For his mischief, he is a good man at heart.”

Pulling away from the flower, you finally met her eyes directly, knowing that you would have to face this eventually.

“He’s doing this for our family,” you whispered, keeping your gestures calm and neutral under the eye of the guards. You plucked one of the roses free and move to attach it to the collar of her dress. “He means to stop the alliance Brock and Obadiah are planning, to keep Peter on the throne.”

Pepper’s expression hardened at the information. You could tell she was forming connections as you fidgeting with the button holes and slide the rose into place. 

“You keep secrets well, dove,” she reached for the flower affectionately before leaning and kissing your cheek. “Peter… not so much. Have you gone to the kitchens recently? I hear you might have a reunion with a little thief from yesterday.”

She pulled away and started back toward the castle, one of the guards following behind her, the other remaining to watch you. You realized that it was Steve, his expression guilty when you approached.

“Were you listening?” you challenged and he sighed.

“Only a little,” he confessed. “For your safety.”

“A conversation between mother and daughter?” you smirked and he rolled his eyes. 

“You should go to the kitchens,” he offered in place of an explanation. “Or rather, shall we?” 

(—)

“Are you ready for what you must do?” Wanda asked, lifting the glass vial Stephen had sealed and set out on his desk. 

The observatory was unnaturally quiet. The fireplaces extinguished, the books all stacked away or moved to his family home in the countryside. Aside from him and Wanda, there was no life in the room, all traces of your late nights together, books read, or spells learned had been erased.

It was almost time. 

“What choice do I have now?” he asked, plucking the vial from her hand and giving it a shake. “Loki can buy us some time, but until the family is secure we cannot make a move.”

“The princess is headed to the kitchens,” Wanda stated, pausing while her eyes glowed red. “Brock is unhappy with todays events and is looking for her.”

Stephen clenched the vial in his palm. He didn’t want to exploit your emotions, but you wouldn’t be able to hide from Amora forever. The queen had done a marvelous job of keeping her away, but she, along with every other magic user in the room, had felt the seidr you’d unwittingly passed to Peter.

“I need to be with the king,” Wanda suddenly stated, eyes wide. “The future is moving toward us faster than expected, Stephen.”

She disappeared in a cloud of red smoke, leaving him to his empty, broken room. 

Would the two of you get a chance to steal away in its comfort again? 

Would you even forgive him for lying and hiding the truth from you?

Opening his hand and rolling the vial around his palm, he sighed. Wanda was right. Things were going to move quickly and all at once after the first weight dropped. 

(—)

Natalia hadn’t expected you to be glaring at her from across the kitchen.

So when you dragged her to the hallway, demanding an explanation, she was at a loss for words. At least, until she saw Steve’s smirk from the corner of the space. 

Oh.

It was nearing time.

“Stephen wanted me to be closer to keep an eye on things,” she lied. It wasn’t a complete lie. She was close and Stephen had agreed with the plan (the plan set in place by your father, but you weren’t to be made aware of that just yet) and she was keeping an eye on the quiet rebellion stirring under Peter’s leadership.

All the paths were beginning to converge, whispers turning to quiet battle cries as the castle readied itself for battle. 

And you were none the wiser. 

It was too risky otherwise. Amora was focusing in on your seidr and any lapse would pull the magic user’s attention. If you even thought about rebellion and war, the sorceress would be tipped off and Brock or Obadiah would make a move to counter it. 

“Why wouldn’t he have told me?” you demanded, arms crossed. Steve continued to look amused in the background. Natalia would have to knock him straight one of these days…

“Safety,” she merely replied, shrugging.

A call came from the kitchens and she used it as an excuse to exit, but you followed behind stubbornly. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” you asked, pestering her while she scooped up a basket of bread for the Asgardian troops outside.

“Princess, please, you’re in the way,”  Nat shoved past you, earning a small gasp from one of the kitchenmaids at the casual way she addressed the princess. Pulling you aside, she lowered her voice. “You’re going to expose me. Just trust what is happening is for your own good.”

She stalked off, fuming at the way Steve continued to smirk to himself, knowing full well he was the one who brought her down there. 

Not that he was entirely to blame, it was part of the plan, just a little earlier than anticipated. It meant that Natalia had to work fast and get a message to Loki and Thor’s camp before nightfall.

“Is this funny?” you asked Steve dryly, motioning toward the stairs back to the main living quarters with a defeated sigh.

“Not at all, your highness,” he answered cheekily. 

(—)

No one was willing to answer your questions. OR rather, no one was around to answer your questions. 

The observatory was locked- meaning Stephen was off the grounds. Wanda wasn’t around, Peter was avoiding you after the ordeal in the throne room, and even Wong was no where to be found. 

“Maybe you should retire to some light reading before dinner?” Steve suggested after having followed you across the greater length of the castle. 

“You’re hiding something too and I’m not thrilled about it,” you snapped, turning on him. “Why is Nat in the kitchens? Is James in the stables?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s in the armory,” Steve answered, deadpan, watching your expression until he finally let out another laugh. “Princess, I promise you, there is no grand conspiracy against you. Master Strange is just ensuring extra layers of protection are in place for you.”

“For what? My wedding?” you asked bitterly. “I thought that’s what Loki was for.”

“These are dangerous times, my grace,” he replied. “One can never be too sure of who to trust. I caught a Baron at the border not three days ago negotiating with one of Brock’s men for privileged information.”

“Who?” you asked, a little curious as to who would be so bold.

“Zemo,” he said the name sourly. “He was apparently promised more land and favor in Brock’s kingdom for supplying vulnerable points of entry to the castle.”

“Oh,” you paused, considering the passages you’d ventured through with Natalia and Stephen over the years. 

As if reading your mind, Steve spoke up. 

“They’re secured,” he murmured, before nudging your shoulder at an approaching figure.

“Princess,” King Brock greeted with fake enthusiasm. He reached for your hand and gave the knuckles a light graze of his lips. “Would you like to take a small walk around the castle with me?”

“The princess was about to start her afternoon studies,” Steve informed him briskly. 

Brock sized him over, just then realizing he was even there. 

“The princess can spare some time for her betrothed,” he stated firmly, looking down at you, hand still clutched around yours. “Isn’t that right?” 

“Let Stephen know I’ll be with him shortly,” you urged, hoping Steve would do well to get the sorcerer or someone who was capable of intervening. 

He nodded briskly, excusing himself and hurrying down the hall with your message. 

“Quite the ordeal today,” Brock commented, guiding you toward the private quarters. “Tell me, do you wish to marry that brute? I can’t imagine with your delicate heart that wedding the monster who killed your father would be acceptable.”

You swallowed, pulling your hand free and pretending to fix a button on your sleeve to occupy yourself. 

“I serve at the pleasure of my king,” you answered neutrally. “What agreement he makes is outside of my control.”

Brock stopped, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t trust me?” he asked sharply. “Or like me for that matter?”

You froze like a deer at the hunt. 

You didn’t trust him, and you were far from liking him. You knew in your heart he was the one who’d killed your father, who’d betrayed him and brought your home into chaos with a mad king on the throne. 

“I don’t know what you mean, my liege,” you lied, continuing down the hall and pretending to admire a tapestry you’d seen a thousand times before. 

“Don’t play coy,” he catch your arm and spun you to face him directly. “It wasn’t me, you know. It was the Asgardians. They wish to frame my men for their misdeeds.”

You ripped your arm away, glaring up at him.

“Hundreds of our men saw you on the horse, leading the charge,” you snapped, forgetting exactly who you were speaking so freely with in the heat of the moment. “The Asgardians weren’t even positioned for that area. How could they have assembled so quickly and nearly destroyed our army for effectively?”

Brock gaped at you in surprise, not expecting such a curt and honest response from you. The surprise quickly shifted to fury and he grabbed the top of your arm, pulling you toward a nearby room and shoving you inside. 

The room must have belonged to him or Amora. It was a standard living arrangement with an armoire and a four post bed, but no personal touches that suggested it was permanent situation. 

“Who do you think you are?” he snarled, shoving you against a wall. “You’re lucky anyone is giving you a second thought, don’t think because that bastard prince has shown up that you aren’t anything but something for my seed to fill.” 

He was in your face, hissing his words as he continued to push you back against the wall. 

“Get away from me,” you threw an elbow, catching him in the jaw, but that served only to fuel his anger. He caught you by the wrist, twisting your arm behind your back and pinning you face first onto the cold stone. 

You could hear him fumbling with his belts, his breath hot against your neck while you tried to snuggle yourself free. Each movement made him twist even tighter on your hand, sending a shock of pain up the arm. 

“Has your wizard fucked you already?” he snarled, pressing his hard member against the back of your skirts. “I bet you’re just a little whore for him, aren’t you?”

You squirming became more desperate. His hands caught your waist, his knee edging up the skirts. 

“Too bad you’re mine,” he growled, pulling at the strings of your corset and trying to shuffle it down your waist. “I’ll have him hanged and let you watch his pathetic body sway in the courtyard while I fill you with my heirs, you pathetic whimpering fool.”

He’d nearly succeeded in pinning you in place when you remembered the dagger hidden at the front of your dress. Using your free hand, you slipped it free and rolled against his grasp, swinging the sharp object toward him.

It caught his face and he reeled back, yelling in pain, blood dripping from his cheek. 

“You bitch!” he swung, catching your face and sending you stumbling back toward the bed. He moved toward you, blood spilling over your dresses while he reached down and gripped your neck, hiking the skirts up while he ripped his pants down. 

You tried to scream, to throw fists, but no matter how you fought, he was overpowering you. 

You closed your eyes, willing it all to be over, to have someone hear the chaos, but no one came. You couldn’t let this happen. Every inch of skin repelled at his touch, your entire soul repulsed by his very existence, you willed everything inside of you to get him as far away from you as possible. 

Your world was going dark when you held up a weak hand to try and shove him off of you one last time while he positioned himself over you. 

The was a yelp of surprise and a crash. The constriction on your throat loosen and no longer was he ripping at your skirts. 

Opening your eyes, you saw Brock hunched over on the other side of the room, a fresh wound bleeding from the back of his head, the stone wall behind him cracked slightly. 

You looked to your outstretched hand, a faint glow of violet was fading and you slowly sat up to take in the situation. 

Did you just kill him?

“Princess?” a voice was calling from the hall, a short rap of knuckles on the door before it opened, revealing Loki.

“Close the door,” you urged sharply, your voice broken from the damage Brock had done to your throat. Loki obliged, taking in the scene with wide eyes. He was at your side in an instant, touching your cheek where you were certain a bruise was forming around your eye.

“What happened?” his tone had dropped dangerously, and from the look on his face, you were certain he already knew the answer.

“Did I kill him?” you asked, eyes falling behind your friend to the slumped over king on the ground. “He’s bleeding…”

“I hope so,” he hissed, standing and moving to the king. He checked his pulse and sighed. “Alive.”

“What are we going to do?” you asked, panic now forming in your chest. This was very very bad. If Obadiah found you… or him… or he told someone about…. 

“Let me handle it,” he murmured, returning to your side. “Hold still.”

His hands were cool while he traced around the tender spot on your face. As he moved his fingers, they glowed a beautiful emerald color and the pain began to recede.

“Look at me,” he ordered gently, lifting your chin to examine his handiwork. “Lovely as ever, princess.”

Dumbfounded, you touched the bruise and found no pain or swollen skin. 

“I couldn’t control it,” you whispered, looking down at your hand when you dropped it into your lap. “Stephen said it would be best not to completely seal it. That it might serve as protection but…”

Loki chuckled at your hesitation.

“I’ll take care of him,” he promised firmly. “He won’t remember a thing. You’re fortunate that Stephen and Amora are examining the barriers around the castle. She would have sensed your seidr immediately.”

“Won’t she know you tampered with him?”

“She’s good, but I’m better,” he winked and helped you to your feet. “Are you injured anywhere else?” 

There was a pause while you realized precisely what he meant. 

“No, he didn’t- he wasn’t able to-,” you stammered out, cheating aching at the fresh memory. Loki pulled you to his chest, wrapping his arms over your shoulders protectively. You hadn’t realized you’d been trembling until he had steadied you.

“You should retire for the evening,” he suggested. “I’ll have someone bring up your dinner.”

“What about-?” you looked to Brock, still unconscious on the ground. 

“I told you, I will take care of it,” he reminded you with a playful smirk. “Here.”

A shimmer of green overtook you and you looked down at your formally ripped and tattered dress. It’d been replaced with a fresh dress in Loki’s colors of emerald and gold.

“You’re hilarious,” you joked, smoothing out the silks and bending over to recollect your dagger and sheath. 

“You have to admit, you do you look good in my colors,” he teased.

“I prefer my own,” you countered, the dress shifting to the crimsons of house Stark. “Or maybe the blues of Kamar-Taj.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You’re just cruel,” he sighed, leaving the dress in red. “Lock your doors. Only answer for those you trust. I’ll inform Stephen what has happened as soon as I’m done.”

He guided you toward the door, a hand on your back. 

“Are you sure?” you asked a final time and he just smiled, letting you back into the hallway and closing the door behind you.

“Trust me,” he supplied before the door latched shut. 

A lot of people were saying that to you recently. 

On the other side of the door, Loki looked at the king and scoffed.

“Pathetic.” 

Snapping his fingers, he left the man exactly how he was, materializing outside of Prince Peter’s quarters.

“Your highness!” he knocked frantically on the door. When Peter peered out, Loki rushed in, rapidly explaining what had happened between the princess and the king.  

Peter went into a frenzy, while Loki stood to the side, watching the young man announce it was time to make their move against Obadiah. 

The younger prince was absolutely right, in more ways than he realized.

(--)

9 - a king’s arrival 

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[3195c]

The Dark Knight: When Empire Met Heath Ledger’s Joker

2008

Heath Ledger: when asked how much we'll see in the film of the man who becomes The Joker, he merely says that, "Most of the villains in the Chris Nolan style of Batman films are normal people or once were normal people."

"It's a combination of reading all the comic books I could that were relevant to the script and then just closing my eyes and meditating on it. I sat around in a hotel room in London for about a month, locked myself away, formed a little diary and experimented with voices – it was important to try to find a somewhat iconic voice and laugh. I ended up landing more in the realm of a psychopath – someone with very little to no conscience towards his acts. He's just an absolute sociopath, a cold-blooded, mass-murdering clown, and Chris has given me free rein. Which is fun, because there are no real boundaries to what The Joker would say or do. Nothing intimidates him, and everything is a big joke.

"I think we all have that in us," Ledger muses, before attempting to describe the physicality of inhabiting his and Nolan's vision of The Joker: "It's kind of like eating raw meat. What that does to your mouth and your eyes, simple little visual things like that. I don't know – I guess the rest is just trusting your research." 

Michael Caine: "Heath Ledger stunned me, Jack played The Joker as sort of a benign nasty clown – like a wicked uncle. Heath plays him like an absolutely maniacal murderous psychopath. You have never seen anything like it in your life. He is very, very scary. I turn up every month or so and do a couple of bits, then go back to London. I had to do this bit where Batman and I watch a video which The Joker sends to threaten us. So I'd never seen him, and then he came on the television in the first rehearsal and I completely forgot my lines. I flipped, because it was so stunning, it was quite amazing. Wait until you see it, it’s incredible.” 

Lindy Hemming (costume designer): “He’s certainly not a dapper, dandy gentleman in this film, Whatever is wrong with him, it means he doesn't care about himself at all, really. We were trying to make him sort of a... I don't want to say vagrant, but his look in this film has a much punkier feel. Anarchic feel. Scruffier, grungier, and therefore when you see him move, he's slightly twitchier or edgy.

"He doesn't even have 'clown' make-up, as such. "He's just somebody who exaggerates the scar on his mouth."

Michael Caine:  "What the director has done, which is so clever, is that the Joker has left the make-up and just let it rot off. It is never renewed. He's got a big, wide mouth and it gradually almost looks like bad skin disease." 

Christian Bale: An antagonist is nothing without his protagonist, of course, and we should not forget that we wouldn't even have The Joker if it weren't for Batman. Still, with Nicholson stealing Burton's movie away from the frowning Michael Keaton, you could forgive Christian Bale for worrying that Ledger would do the same to him.

"I'm not worried at all," says Bale. "That was exactly the problem I had with all of the other movies – after I had read Frank Miller's Batman: Year One and various other graphic novels, I looked at those films and said, 'Well, how come it's always been that Batman's the most boring character?' I've never found him to be intriguing at all. Whereas these graphic novels depicted him as really being by far the most fascinating character. So I feel like we gained that back with Batman Begins. Now we've made him a character of substance, I have no problem with him competing with someone else. And that's going to make better entertainment and a better movie, which is great."

Bale grins. "I don't mind if everybody tries to chew up the scenery!"

Originally printed in Empire Magazine in January 2008