#just a thought though please don't treat this as real official news

[darkcreamz95]

Hear me out, what if Gustaph came to Joker Out's Amsterdam concert 👀👀👀

[vlansy]

Run Away Baby Before I Put My Spell On You

Pairings: WandaNat! x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda is set on a mission to find out who the "new" super hero in town is.

Warning(s): Violence, Voyeurism, murder, use of gun, swearing- (MINORS DNI 18+ )

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2

Reader's POV

Growing up I have always wondered what I was made for, my mother said she prayed to have me and the deities gave me to her. She said I was special and she was the most blessed woman to have me. I was blessed by every God, giving me gifts and power.

But I still wonder what my purpose is.

I mean don't get me wrong having been given powers to move things with my mind, and control anyone if I wished to is an honor I will forever be thankful for, but sometimes I feel like I’m cursed to have them. I still have morals though, I ask for permission first before I enter someone's mind but even without asking I could still do it. Levitating and creating illusions is also one of the many powers given to me by the Gods. The Goddess of beauty and love herself even bestowed me with the power to charm and captivate anyone I wish to kneel for me.

When I was given to my mother they all expected me to be the one to stop the war and create peace among everyone.

I was sent to the mortal realm at a young age by my mother, she wanted me to live there with her immortal friend whom she said she’d known for a long time. I don't know what her reason is and why she wanted me to leave her but I know better than to question the queen.

I visit sometimes though, I mean what's a castle without its princess?

And what's a mother without her daughter….

My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.

“Y/n, are you awake?” A soft masculine voice said.

I was lying on my bed my feet dangling on the edge. I raise my hand opening the door without getting up.

I hear my Uncle Malcolm's footsteps coming closer my eyes remain closed.

“Is it just me or does the “woman in white” look familiar?” He said emphasizing the “woman in white”.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to him. I looked at him and raised my brow. “I see you’ve seen the news.”

“Y/n, I know you have a mind of your own and you’re a bright girl, but honey please be careful out there.” He said as he sat on the edge of my bed.

I’ve lived with my “uncle” Malcolm here on earth since my mother decided it would be a good idea for me to leave. He’d known my mother when he was in high school and my mother was a curious princess who wanted to see the whole universe.

His only family is me now and his fiancé Luthor.

They’re both very much in love and I would love nothing more than to officially welcome Luthor to our family. They both treat me as if I were their real daughter and I love them both like their my real Dad’s

It’s ironic really, before I got sent to earth I’ve only ever had women around me, since where I came from women are the ones to rule and provide for their offspring. No men exist where I came from they’re practically extinct.

I look at my uncle. “I promise I won’t get hurt, Dad,” I assure him. “And would you really think I’d let anyone catch me?”

“I know you wouldn’t let that happen but I know you too well to know that if the Avengers were the ones after you, you would let them.” He said knowingly.

“I- okay I probably will, but come on Dad if the Avengers were to want me I’d be honored to be caught by them.” I laughed at him.

It's an understatement to say that I'm a huge fan of the heroes that protect the world. But I would never admit that to anyone but my Dad’s.

They know how much I admire them, especially the two wonderful redheads I have a tiny bit of a crush on.

So when I thought of the idea that the Avengers might be on to me I had mixed feelings about it. I don't know whether to be excited that they know of me but also a bit scared because they know of me.

“And besides, whatever happens, happens. I'm a powerful being but I can't control what will happen, Dad.” I finally sat down on my bed.

He just sighed at me, knowing how stubborn I am he probably thought not to argue with me further.

“Where's Papa, by the way?” I changed the topic.

“He's still in his office, you know your Papa he's very hard working.” He said proudly. I just nodded.

My Papa is a well-known lawyer and my Dad is a popular Fashion designer. When I was younger I started to model the clothes he designed which gained me popularity all throughout high school and college.

I graduated college at 18 due to my high credentials and skipping a few grades. I honestly don't know what to do since I don't go to school anymore, I'm 19 now and turning 20 in a few months but all I want to do is keep my position in the modeling industry.

People say I'm too smart to just throw it all away but I don't really care what they think, plus My dad’s supports me with everything I do and whatever I choose to be.

I live by myself most of the time, I bought myself a house, but I miss my Dad’s too much so come over at weekends.

“I'll leave you to rest now sweetheart, goodnight,” he said as he kissed my head.

“Goodnight, Dad.” I smiled at him as I watched him walk out the door.

A few minutes passed and I was tucking myself to bed when my phone rang.

“Yes, Shaye?” I said when I answered the call.

“Y/n! Girl let's go out tonight!” She screamed right in my ear making me move the phone away.

I look at the time, “Babe it's literally midnight?”

“Yeah so? Come on honey the other girls are coming too,” she reasoned.

I thought for a second, what could go wrong? Right?

“Fine, give me like 30 minutes.” I finally agreed.

“Yay! Okay hurry up and I'll call you when I'm there, Byee!” She said cheerfully.

“Bye.” I said and quickly went to my walk-in closet and chose an outfit.

Once I found a white crisscross halter top and some denim jeans I went to my mirror and got changed. Then I went out of my closet and to my vanity. I started putting on a little bit of makeup and took the claw clip that was on my hair to let down my soft curly hair.

I got my purse and made sure my important belongings were in there and went to my Dad’s room.

I knocked on their door and waited for it to open.

“Yes, sweetheart?” my Dad said as he opened the door.

“I'm going out with Shaye and my friends.”

“Okay, be careful alright,” He reminded me.

“Yes, Dad bye,” I said and smiled back at him.

I was going down the stairs when Shaye called. “We’re here.” she is said.

“Yeah, I'll be right down,” I said and ended the call.

When I got out the door I was greeted by my friends squealing. I opened the shotgun seat and Shaye started driving.

“Oh my God Y/n we’re gonna have so much fun tonight!” My friend Leven said in excitement.

The car ride was pretty much us singing to loud music and taking photos.

When we arrived at the bar the guard didn't even need to check our IDs or make us stay in line because we go to parties here almost every weekend.

Some of our close friends were already waiting for us in the VIP section of the bar with drinks ready.

“Y/n babe, You made it!” A familiar feminine voice catches my attention.

“I probably wouldn’t have come if I knew you were here.” I joked at her.

Vienna was my ex when we were in college but we were more best friends than girlfriends so we ended up on good terms. But even when we broke up we would still playfully flirt with each other, but we both have zero romantic feelings for one another.

“Oh don’t act like you don't miss me, honey,” she winked at me.

I playfully rolled my eyes at her.

We partied all night and drank so much alcohol that my friends could barely walk anymore.

“Oh my God, do you guys remember when we all got in trouble because we couldn't stop laughing at Mr. Wilkins when we caught him picking his nose.” Leven reminded us.

“HAHAHA, or when he tried to flirt with Shaye in front of the class but Shaye said she also likes girls?.” I said and they all laughed, especially Shaye who almost choked on her drink.

As we caught up with each other's lives and reminisced about the times we had together I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

As I walked to the exit of the bar I could already feel the danger come my way.

I excused myself to my friends earlier because I saw a woman being followed and harassed by two men. I watched her for a while and when she was going to the exit I knew I had to follow.

As I looked around the exit I saw the two men following the girl out so I quickly but carefully followed them.

One of them ran up behind her and covered her mouth so she couldn't scream the other guy went to a nearby van and opened its back seat.

I walked towards them and spoke. “Watcha doing there big boys?”

They turned towards me. “You wanna join in doll?” The guy holding the girl said and smirked. I smirked back at him and walked closer to them, my heels clicking as I walked. The other man from the van now went closer to us.

“You know, two big guys like you shouldn't be out here at night,” I said as I got close to them the girl still trying to get out of the other man's grip.

He looked at his buddy and they both grinned. “Yeah, and why is that?” He asked a menacing smile plastered across his face.

“Because you might come across women like me,” I said as my eyes glowed golden.

Their smile slowly went away while mine grew wider.

I raise my hand in front of them making them both paralyzed.

I use my other hand to move the girl with my powers, freeing her from the guy's grasp. The girl stumbled in front of me so I held her close.

“Are you okay?” I asked with a look of concern.

“Y-yes, thank you,” she said as tears ran down her eyes.

“Go, and please don't tell anyone I was here,” I pleaded. “I'll take care of these boys for you,” I said as I turned back to the men giving them a sharp glare.

I heard the girl run but my attention was caught by the two men in front of me grunting and trying to move.

“It really isn't fun being helpless huh?” I asked with a fake pout.

“Oh! How about we play a game? Would you like that?” I asked then laughed. “Oh I forgot you can't speak, let me fix that for you,” I said and waved my hand in the air giving them the ability to talk.

“You little bitch!” one of them screamed at me.

I gasp. “You guys aren't very nice.”

“Let us go you fucker!” the other guy commanded.

“How about this, I'll give you five seconds to run and then I'll run after you, and if I catch you… I'll kill you.” I said as my smile dropped.

“1…2…3 GO!” I scream as I free them. They ran as fast as they could not wasting and second.

I just waited there and looked at my watch and when it was time to run after them I used my powers to make me fly making my current clothes disappear and turn to my white armor and covering myself with a white cloak.

As I was in the air I could already see the both of them run to a nearby alley. I fly with speed and when my feet touch the ground I start to play with them.

I surrounded them with clones of myself circling them so they had nowhere to go. “You have nowhere to run boys.”

One of them took a gun out of his pocket and the other one a knife. They started attacking the clones of me but every attack just went through my clones while they laughed at the men's pathetic tries.

When I finally got tired of watching them struggle I made one of them float in the air making him drop his weapon the other guy tried to attack me but I paralyzed him into place.

I entered the mind of the guy I held in the air and bent him to my will.

“θα τον σκοτώσεις και τον εαυτό σου (kill him and yourself)” I whispered in his mind and as I did his eyes glowed golden and his face expressionless.

I both let them go and watched as the man I whispered to attacked the other guy.

“Stop! What are you doing man!” the man grunted as they fought each other.

I was gonna watch them kill each other when I felt something in my chest and I felt my power in my veins. My veins are visibly glowing golden.

“What's happening to me?” I question myself as I look at my arms.

I quickly flew out of the alley not caring if anyone sees me.

But as I was in the air something shot the side of my stomach from a distance making me lose control and fall onto a rooftop of a building.

My stomach was bleeding and I tried to cover it up with my hand. When I gained composure and tried to stand up I saw a red entity fly towards me and as I turned my head the other way I saw a black-suited figure jump from building to building going after me.

“Shit!” I cussed out figuring out who they are.

It's the Scarlet Witch and the Black Widow.

I try to fly out of there but suddenly scarlet threads wrap themselves around me making it hard to move.

I breathed in and out catching my breath as I was about to use all my strength to break free from the witch’s spell.

At this point, my whole body was glowing and I could feel the witch’s spell slowly breaking and when I broke free a powerful force blew them both away making the widow hit her head on the cement and the witch fell on the ground.

“Wanda!” I heard the widow scream.

I wanted to help them and apologize but it was too much of a risk so I gathered all the strength left in me and flew as fast as I could out of there.

(Please tell me how I did in this chapter and if there are any errors.) Thank you all so much for the support!!😘

[homesickn]

My Heart

Soft!dark Loki x Reader. (Ghostface!Loki)

Loki is your special guide on an acting play in Asgard. How will it turn out? It will certainly be a Scream!

(Scream-inspired, ghostface!Loki, he's a bit obsessive too, who could have guessed?)

Warnings: this fic is exclusively explicit +18, a lot of blood, Dom!Loki, angst (at least reader cries a lot), stalking, Loki is a bit mean at times, blood kink, murder, psychological horror, possessive Loki, obsessive Loki, dark!Loki, scared reader. Be safe! ;)

You were fixing your hair and taking a look at the fancy dressing options for the official play, taking place in the center of Asgard, a place properly dedicated for cultural artistic exposition.

A bunch of the most famous actors throughout all of Asgard were coming to interpret roles in the huge theater near the castle, as an official tradition. Asgard is often envied in the matter of culture and in their specific field of acting art.

You've never felt more treasured, it surely felt gifting to be able to experience such an unique phenomenon, to be invited to such a thing.

And you're human. It feels a whole lot to you.

Far away from your home on Earth.

As much as it bothered you, you had to keep your mind off the annoying sting in your chest. You came here for an honorable reason, to represent as a Midgardian diplomat, settled by Thor to help him with his rules and studies for Asgard and the other realms, as he already knew you, he thought you to be the perfect fit. You don't want to disappoint.

But this loneliness is unlike any other, you can't help but wonder how your family and friends are doing, at home. You could fully say with conviction that the only friend you have is the godly Avenger that swore to protect you through your journey out of your original realm.

You were okay with it, until you had to get down and face the real world. You wore the very detailed white royal dress that most appealed to your eyes, and went downstairs to meet with the known blond just waiting for your presence, awkwardly messing with his…formal, hero cape.

He says your name with hesitance, “I'm so sorry, my friend. I truly am, I won't be able to attend the event,” he expresses, you frown and press your hand to your heart.

“What? You're the only friend I have here, am I supposed to go alone?” You're quick to ask.

“You can go with Loki,” he mentions the dark prince, you blink.

Loki wasn't a bad man to you, from what you've known of him, you're not a judgemental person, you don't like going for other people's words. But he's known on Earth for being a murderer, you watched the news, even though you weren't present during the attack you still could feel the pain that all those victims went through. It felt like you're betraying them, like you're hurting them by thinking of befriending the god.

However, since you've shown up on Asgard, Loki has been nothing but amicable to you. You just hesitated considering him a friend, whatsoever, he's a person you've —unfortunately — come to admire.

Whenever he passes by your sight is attached to him, as if you've been hypnotized, he's charming, pleasing to be around, your sense of humor matches a lot from what you've had the pleasure of discovering of him.

“Loki?” You repeat, letting the name echo through the walls of the castle. You're momentaneously afraid you've summoned him with the name.

“Yes, he's not too bad,” Thor looks a bit embarrassed of having to state so. “He's kind when you spend time with him, I know he'll treat you well. And if there's one thing my brother loves more than anything, is the events that involve acting around here. You have to see just how bright his eyes sparkle when he watches the plays, and this one in particular is one of his favorites. We used to watch it with father when we were younger.” 

You were now enchanted by Thor's description, your eyes shining at the idea of having someone acknowledged to teach you more of something you already enjoy so much, you're also a huge fan of acting, and theatrical acting was a hidden passion you've always adored. 

The thought of Loki liking this so much excites you, because you love surrounding yourself with enthusiastic people, you love seeing them being passionate about what they love. You thought it wouldn't be so bad to have a guide, it is definitely a better option than to go just by yourself, or to refuse and stay in bed for the day.

“Well…” You think for a second, looking around then coming back to Thor. “I don't see why not.” You shrug your shoulders, the blond god gives you a bright smile and says he'll catch him for you.

You wait at the entrance, looking all like a real princess waiting for her prince to take her to a royal ball. 

“This is too fancy for me,” you look down at yourself, somehow feeling a sense of imposter syndrome. Feeling unbelonging, too human for this, it's way more than you could ever dream of. “I shouldn't be here.” 

“Now, why would you say such a thing?” A low soft voice asks you from nowhere, you jolt as you turn quickly, recognizing the owner of the voice.

Loki gulps as he shares eye contact with you, glancing down at your pretty dress, you take a moment to appreciate his beautiful princely outfit, black and green, with tiny golden sparkling details. His body seemingly just fit for the measures of the clothes, you think you've lost your breath for a second. 

He smirks as he catches you staring.

“Princess?” Your heart flutters a little, you swear your legs feel a bit shaky from the endearment. 

“I'm not a princess,” you hurry to correct, your cheeks heating up against your will.

“You look just like one. You can be a princess, and if you don't like it, you have the experience for the night.” He offers his hand to you with a charming smile.

“No one would believe I'm a princess, prince Loki.” You challenge him.

“They will if I treat you like one,” he licks his lips and his eyes give you such softness you could melt again. Another pang, the betrayal, the attack on Earth.

You're the one to gulp nervously now, taking your eyes off of him and looking to the road ahead.

“You don't need to, it's fine,” and you quickly hurry to change the subject before he can protest. “Shall we go? Otherwise we'll miss the time. Nobody likes being late.”

★

You and Loki arrive at the festival together, getting off the carriage, he offers his hand again when you're exiting, like a true gentleman.

There's a lot of drinking, dancing, and singing. The theater is still empty waiting for the actors to arrive. Your excitement is likely palpable, Loki could swear he feels it radiating off of you. 

“It's okay, princess,” he says loud enough for others to hear, placing his arms around you. You blush but refuse to protest, he gives you a knowing look and a mischievous smile. “We can have our fun before the show. Let me show you around all the cultural Asgardian beauty.”

They had a lot of variable types of drinks, a lot of dancing presentations for people to watch, and the singers had the most amazing intonations that your ears could be blessed to hear. You couldn't believe how lucky you were, to be able to humanely get in touch with the art from the gods themselves.

The harp brought an etheric touch to all the singing, the harsh intoning of the words whilst they sung something in their native languages, deep voices to match their godly vocal chords. Be it from the realm they were, your heart clenched in delight from all the admiring.

Loki was an impeccable guide, showing you some popular dishes, giving you the most delectable desserts, and watching the performances with you. Thor was right, you could see the special touch he had with art, it was as if he forgot everything else around him when he got close to it. 

“This play will be my favorite,” he musters and you stop to listen, carefully. His voice is low but the smile he's wearing really makes you interested in what he has to say. It's like a secret you're two are sharing.

“What's the name of the play?” You couldn't believe Thor hadn't told you this before, you felt a bit ignorant towards the conversation. Loki puts his hands on your back again to calm your nerves down.

“The Masquerade,” he almost whispers. Like a real secret, almost as if he could read you.

“Oooh,” you teasingly express. “The Masquerade, such an interesting name, will they wear the masks?” For a second you feel dumb to ask, Loki only laughs a little and rubs your back to comfort you.

“Yes, yes, they will. I truly hope you find it as beautiful as I do.” His eyes sparkle with a sprinkle of mischief among the kindness. 

“I probably will,” you say more to yourself than to him. If he thinks it's beautiful, there's one more reason for you to like it, there's a special key to the piece, they caught someone's love before you've met it. “What's it about, anyways?”

He looks down at you due to the height difference and brings his gaze back to your eyes, deep piercing blue staring right into you, you feel a bit sick from the closeness. 

“It's…uhh,” he pauses, a bit sheepish, you never thought you'd see the infamous, 'evil' god of mischief looking embarrassed to talk about something he loves. He clears his throat. “It talks about several people meeting at a Masquerade ball, one of them, the leader, —who is the murderer, but it's a fact unknown to the characters of the play— wears a mask that resembles the face of a comical ghost, it may sound a bit silly, but it's really symbolic. It has the horror of course, putting the thrill aside.” He still blushes to say.

He continues.

“The thrill of having to discover who is responsible for the murders whilst everyone worries because their lives are at risk, you don't know which ones you trust, there's just…something about it that makes me terrified, I think that's why I'm so invested in the story.” He manages to explain to you. “But I really like it, I've even read the scripts before, a few times. I had the pleasure of reading the original one when it was created.”

Your eyes widen as he says it all. “I love these kinds of things! The mystery!” You exclaim. “I love it, and we'll get to see who's actually the murderer at the end, right? Sometimes I tend to get my intuitions wrong,” you joke.

He chuckles, a bit surprised. “Yes, of course. Where would be the fun if we never get to know who did it all?”

“And you're quite old, huh?” You give a teasing smile, he shakes his head, smiling too. “You know so many things from so many years ago.”

“Don't let this disappoint you, I hope.” There's a glint and the softness he always presents to you. You feel queasy, you feel happy. “Your mortality is not an issue here.”

As the festival went on, even the Warriors did their own little stunt to occupy the time, but the actors never arrived. You were starting to get a bit restless, you wanted to watch the show and you feared you wouldn't get to see what Loki so lovingly shared with you.

Everybody gave out a gasp of exasperation when all the lights of the event were turned off. People immediately sighed a bothered "blackout", but even the candles were blown off, leaving everyone in a sea of darkness swallowing all the excitement there was before.

“We can't enjoy the event without lights!” One of the warriors complained, you couldn't quite remember his name.

“Why can't I light the candle? The fire just doesn't lit,” someone complained loudly. “Where is a God of Fire when you need one?”

“I bet that's all because Thor's not here!”

You turn your head around the annoyed complaints of the people, listening to them all in confusion. Loki made sure to appease everyone telling us that we should all stay calm, that the problem will probably be solved soon.

“How could we know? We can't trust this snake!” Someone screamed, pointing at Loki.

“I'm the prince, and I was raised to rule,” Loki had a stern expression as he spoke. “Whether you like it or not, it's true. As Thor is gone for now, I will listen to all the complaints you have.”

“I bet he did it on purpose!” An old Asgardian lady yelled behind the crowd.

“Why would I? I have nothing to gain from this, it's just more of a headache for me,” he said annoyed now, he probably couldn't handle accusations when all he was trying to do is enjoy something he loves.

“He wanted to watch the show like everybody else,” you awkwardly meek the words out, you felt ashamed as soon as they came out and the people looked at you.

“This trickster has watched the same play a thousand times!” Someone gestured rudely with their hands. “He knows every detail probably, he's not doing anything for us.”

“Silence!” Loki orders, “I will not tolerate insolence! You wish to complain, you do so, but meanwhile, I'll put my best efforts to fix the issue.”

You thought the blackout was going to last for maybe a few minutes, but after a while with each sound of nature echoing throughout the open space, you questioned if you're wrong after all. Why was everyone still in the dark? The complaints were now too loud for your ears.

And the worst part is that you've lost sight of Loki. You remind yourself of some old men pulling him by his sleeves, you try to remember what the men's faces looked like, but it remains unsuccessful.

Your heart is quaking with anxiety, he was your only access to hanging out around Asgard, without Thor around or his trusted brother, you feel completely at loss. 

Furiously looking around the place to check if there's anything you can find, whilst others are starting to grab their things to go away.

A sudden light hits the entire circle, a brighter light stinging the people's sight and coming from the theater stage. You hiss and move your gaze, trying to fathom what it's going on.

“The actors are never going to come.” Says a terrified man among the crowd, he's gasping as he looks at the empty stage. What does he mean by that? “Where's the King?! Where's Thor?!”

“We have to run!” An old lady screams, bumping your shoulders as she runs in the opposite direction, grabbing all her stuff. You're still confused but you recompose yourself and immediately try to go somewhere darker.

You scramble through your mind to think of where Loki may be at, you don't want to imagine him suffering with any possible attacks. And your eyes fickle to the golden castle sticking close to the theater area. 

You imagine that's the place where they might've taken Loki to, so you run there, readying yourself to the presence of an unquiet Loki, or maybe a tired, questioning Thor, wondering what all the fuss is about, both the princes immediately trying to solve the problems. You'd run and embrace yourself in the feeling of safety around their presence.

Instead of that, the castle was all empty, you knitted your eyebrows as your skin shivered from the cold you felt in the air. The golden castle has never been so cold, and it seems all the lights have gone out here too.

You're alone. There are no palace staff even, no cooks, no nurses, the princes are nowhere in sight. Alone. And it frightens you, you feel the loneliness ripping your bones as you wonder if staying with the angry mob would be a greater idea than trying to come to the castle.

You hear a ringing way too loud for the quiet atmosphere, you recognize the sound of your cell phone ringing. You run to where your temporary room is, and grab the vibrating phone in your hands. 

You're puzzled, it's odd. It isn't supposed to function, it never does. Who would want to call you when you're so far from Earth? 

Nobody here has a phone connection, so why does it work? Could it be someone from Earth calling you?

You'd probably ask Thor about this later, but you see the number is unknown. You ask yourself if it's possible for the marketing programs to call you even from another realm of distance. You muffle a small laugh as your mental joke eases your nerves.

You hesitantly accept the call, feeling curious.

“Hello?! Is anybody there??!” The raspy male voice questions frantically, it seemed almost robotic, sounding like they're out of breath, you can hear a tiny sob coming from the other line.

“Y-yes, who is it?” You shiver as you listen to your own voice ringing in the closed room.

“Please! Please help me!” The weird voice pleads you. “Please, I found this device out in the blackout, I don't know where I am. But I have you. Please help me.”

You try to shush him calmly. But you're scared as you're still alone, and the voice calling you sounds male but unrecognizable. 

“Look I'm sorry, I'm not a person you should be calling right now, I'm really lost too.” You try to explain peacefully, your chest aching from feeling useless. “Please, forgive me,” You hang up.

Seconds later as you ready yourself to leave, organizing all the important stuff, there's the ringing again. You groan loudly and answer the call.

“Hello?!”

“Are you alone?” He asks, giving another sob through the line. “I'm sorry if you are, I just feel uneasy.”

“I'm packing my things to go face an angry mob of people. Why did you call me back? I told you I can't help you.”

“You'd rather face some angry people than help me?” He asks, quite stressed, all of a sudden sounding a bit angry. Your body stills on the spot.

“I don't know who you are!” He sighs as he hears you.

“That's fair.” A silence rings. You sigh and hang up again.

As you walk out the room, the phone rings again.

“I was testing you, I know a woman that's alone shouldn't come around to help people they don't know, you're really smart.”

“Is it you again?” You ask out of patience.

“What are you doing now?” He sounds more curious.

“I told you, I'm packing my things.”

“Why are you lying to me?” You freeze.

“...Excuse me?” You look around and check if there's anyone that saw you leave your room. “Also, wait. How do you know I'm alone? I never told you I was…”

“Were you on the play?” He changes subject.

“I-uhm…Yeah, I was. I wanted to watch it- yeah. Now answer my question!” You respond feeling incredibly uneasy.

“I was there too. Are you also human?”

“Me? Yes, I'm the Midgardian. You're from Earth?” You walk and get giddier on the call, someone from Earth in Asgard would bring you more familiarity. For a minute you forgot your question remained unanswered. 

“Was just curious. Thor likes you a lot. He speaks a lot about you.”

“Thor? Yeah, he's my friend...” You wonder why the stranger is bringing him to the topic.

“I think I found a light, will you stick on the line until I reach it?”

“Sure thing.” You don't know why, though you don't see anything wrong with waiting. Your every move is still shaky from fear.

“You never told me your name.” He says suggestively, you hurry down the stairs and breathe out the next words.

“Why do you wanna know my name?” 

“Because I want to know who I'm looking at.” A shiver runs down your spine. Like a whiplash, you feel observed as you search your surroundings.

“...What?”

“I wanna know who I'm talking to.”

“That's not what you said.”

“What do you think I've said?” He asks, feigning confusion. 

You rush to the entrance only to notice the doors are locked, your hands shaking as you knock the door repeatedly to call attention from the outsiders. You're sure the stranger heard you banging the door through the call. Shit.

You don't say anything as you hang up this time. You try to compose your breathing, the phone rings once again but you don't move to accept the call.

“Someone!! Help me!” You loudly call, waiting for a response, a sign, anything. The dark was even scarier after the call you received, the cold all too threatening, like a bunch of invisible eyes looking under your skin.

After some moments of silence passing through your weeping eyes, you're fighting to keep the sobs hidden by putting your hand to your mouth to muffle the noise.

You kneel down, body glued to the door, holding it for dear life, your heartbeat a bit too loud for your eardrums. You're hugging your knees in a position of defeat as your body trembles with each sob.

You're wondering if the Asgardians had evacuated the castle and forgotten about you. You wondered if Loki forgot about you.

Your phone rings.

“Don't you hang up on me again or I'll make sure you're the first one to get killed.” Your sobs get even louder. “I'll gut you like a fish and feed your organs to the wolves!”

“What are you doing?! Who are you?!” You ask, clenching your fist to your chest. The rough voice from the other line chuckling from your questions.

“Does it matter, sweetheart? You want out, don't you? Poor thing, locked alone in the castle…”

“Please…don't hurt me…”

“You've told me once you like scary stuff, thrillers.” You fight not to hyperventilate. “Let's try some method acting, shall we?”

“No…no I don't. I don't like this shit.” You grit your teeth.

“You do, sweetheart. Don't lie to me. Don't you want to join my play? I planned it just for us, I thought you wanted to watch it. I can make you a star.”

“What?! No…” You cry.

The door opens out of a sudden and your body falls to the dirty earthy ground. You leave a groan, when your head lifts you're surprised by the dark that's out in the wild, the only light being the stars above your head and the vast bright moon occupying the sky.

You lift yourself with trembling knees and hear a voice coming from the phone. 

“If you ignore me one more time I'll fucking cut your neck off, you stupid little bitch!” The person threatens and you visibly recoil, throwing the phone very far away, ignoring his instructions and running for dear life.

Panting on your way through the golden speckled Asgardian trail out of the castle, darkened by the lack of lightning that you find in the way, you breathe as best as you can, ignoring the fear clutching your heart and the tears pricking your eyes, face puffy and your nose beginning to stuff.

“Damn it,” you tremble and fall in your steps. Sobbing to the air. “Shit, shit…” You curse to the skies as you try to regain your steadiness.

You start listening to a noise behind you, shuffling the bushes and startling you even more. When you pay attention, there are a pair of black boots making their way out of the bushes, right to your direction. A cloak covers down their ankles while your eyes widen. 

You don't stay behind to care for whom it may be, nor wait to check their face, and you keep running.

You're startled as a man comes to your line of vision, screaming, frantic. You tremble and end up falling backwards on the ground, he falls on top of you. Your hands are punching him to move off of you but he seemed just as frightened as you were.

He also noticed your punches were much weaker than the touches the gods carry. The strength they have. He supposed you were a human.

“Oh thank the Lord!” He praises God, and your face is entirely a mix of fear and anxiety, the tears making it very uncomfortable to keep your eyes open. “Thank the Heavens, you have to save me!”

“No!” You scream, pushing him away. A human. He doesn't fool you, he's the damn murderer that's been stalking you. You push his figure behind and he falls off his steps.

And then a knife craves his stomach, your eyes are wide and you're nauseated. The blood speckles to your terrified face. You can't help the scream that leaves you.

You quickly hurry to move up and keep on the run, suddenly someone grabs you by your neck, pulling your whole body up effortlessly, scaring all the breath out of your body.

You're pale as you realize the person is masked, wearing a ghost face mask and a cloak covering their entire body. The person from that was following you, the murderer.

“W-who…” You're fighting, clutching the gloved fingers holding you up and choking you by your pulse. “Who…I-I can't- breathe…” You say between resistant breaths.

“I told you not to ignore me, didn't I? I didn't think I'd need to repeat myself. You seemed like a pretty clever girl.” You recognized the voice from the phone.

“Please…”

“Don't beg, sweet. You're right where I want you to be.” He turns your body, clinging to you, pressing a knife near where his hand was, on your neck. This hand is now resting on your stomach. “I was waiting for this the whole night.”

“What?” You squirm around his grip, wanting to get out.

He clutches your face, forcing you to look at the stage. The one that was before empty, and now, is filled with decorations and blood stains. Your bile raised up to your throat.

Your eyes widened in fear and filled with terrified tears, you could barely hold your screech as you paid attention to the calculated amount of bodies on the floor of the stage.

You were now fully hitting him even though your limbs were being held tight, you still tried to escape.

“Don't be scared, princess.” A shiver runs through your skin, your whole face must be a mix of sweat and tears. It's like everything is turning in your head, dizzying you. Princess. 

Cruel joke. Must be a cruel coincidence, a cruel joke against you. You imagined the killer heard the nickname Loki called you, you could only hope Loki was coming to save you anytime. Maybe he knew how much you liked him.

“Don't be scared, we're only starting the show.” He carries your body up and takes you closer to the stage, all while you punch him as best as you can with full fists. He doesn't seem to be affected by your weak punching.

“Shh, now.” He calms you through your breakdown, shushing you and moving a piece of your hair that was sticking on your forehead due to your sweating. “Shh, you'll like this game, I promise.”

“Game?” You repeat with a gasp, mouth open in fright. “I don't wanna play anything, you freak! You monster!” You try to jump off his embrace but he's stronger and clutches his hold onto you with more strength. “Please, let me go…”

“Come on, princess.” He calls through your cries, placing you down on a throne-looking piece in front of the stage, when you touched it, it felt so…real. You wondered how anyone would be able to bring a real golden throne to this place, you wondered if it was like the one the Asgardian King has.

“A real throne for a princess.” You felt the goosebumps rise one more time, bringing your attention out of your senses, as you looked at the masked freak. “You can't get out of this.” He says and you notice you can't move your hands, you actively scream out, really scared at being unable to move.

“What are you doing?! Why?” You wonder, and he touches your face delicately, the ghost face giving you a cold feeling down your spine, your eyes bright with tears as you look up to him. 

He moves your face a bit, to get you to look at the stage instead of himself. 

“We're just going to play a game, my princess.” He softly says, as much as his raspy voice can muster. You start shaking your head in denial, frantically. 

“Please, no. You've had your fun, I promise I won't tell, please! Let me go!!” 

“You wanted to watch the play, we're going to do so. You just have to guess who's the one that's guilty. If you get it right, nothing happens, and you get a reward. If you get it wrong, we're going to have even more fun.”

“Why are you doing this?” He doesn't respond, he keeps his hands on your shoulders as you watch ahead.

The play starts, a terrified man tries to run you, but he's interrupted like there's a wall in the way. 

“Please, help me! I'm innocent, I need to go away.”

You try to move your hands but you can't. The Ghostface whispers in your ears. 

“Do you trust him, sweetheart? It's in your hands.” 

You shake your head and close your eyes, desperately trying to ignore the scene in front of you. More characters came into the scene.

“Don't worry about the actors, sweetheart,” his whispering was almost so soft for the fake covering voice, hidden behind the mask. “That man, the one that just screamed,” he points his knife to the man that's staring at him with big scared eyes. “He was wanted as a criminal, his reward was worth thousands of gold for arson, murder and sexual abuse.”

“S-so you don't think sexual abuse is correct?” You ask before even thinking, just feeling a wave of relief.

“What?” He sounds surprised for a second. “Why would I–? Oh, sweet? You thought I'd hurt you like this?” His voice sounded different at the moment he realized, like it really hit him somehow. “I'd never do this to you, there's no need to worry about that, I think it's the most disgusting of all crimes.” He says tilting the knife, you gulp not knowing what to do, but gratefully accepting the fact the killer had moral limits about this. At least.

“Pick one.” You realize you've barely paid attention to the play, to the actors moving.

“Please…” You keep on begging, maybe that'll help, but it gets him even more out of patience. “Please, I can't play with people's lives!” 

“You should know what you were getting into before coming here.” He gets closer to your face, you only wish your hands could work so you could pull his mask off to know who he is. “Come on, pick one.”

All the characters looked terrified, one wore a sillier mask of the Ghostface that was beside you, purposely seeming fake and cheaper. You start shaking, it'd be too obvious to pick the Ghostface that's acting, he's supposed to be the story's murderer. No one was actually killed during the act, they just pretended to kill.

“Do you think he did it?” The real killer asks beside you, almost sitting by your side close to your throne. He steps in front of you, steps clear and slow as his boots hit the ground, making you fixated on his every move. “You've been looking at him.” He takes something out of his cloak, and you almost can't believe it when he pulls out a gun and shoots the guy wearing the leader's mask.

“NO!” You scream loudly, hoping to reach his ears before he finishes the murderous act. 

A few more very loud shots were done, the stage was now shining with the stranger's dark red blood, and the actors were all shaking, shivering, on their best attempts at holding their cries, because they didn't want to be a part of it, they're afraid they'll be the next.

“This play is originally Midgardian,” he said, ignoring your cries. “Being written decades ago, only modern versions have this new weapon so the characters would be killed at a distance. I think it's practical for our current game.”

“NO, NO, NO, THAT'S HORRIBLE! STOP, STOP THIS, LET ME LEAVE! I DIDN'T PICK HIM, I DIDN'T WANT HIM TO DIE!” You scream and your whole body is shaking as you feel the guilt racking through your bones.

You feel his gloved hands caress your arms. 

“Sweet,” his strange voice keeps calling you. “Princess, please, look at me. Look at me,” His glove is tainted with dark blood, staining the rich dark black material. He tilts your chin up to make you look at his masked face. You feel even more afraid, the unfamiliarity and fear burning up your body. 

You can't stop crying, and your sobs are becoming louder and louder. 

“Look at me. It's okay, remember what I told you? He didn't deserve to live. He was supposed to go through the death penalty anyways.” You didn't know if you trusted his words. You were scared. Terrified. Shaking, and now feeling so guilty you couldn't even think about being saved. 

What if they put the blame on you? What about the disgust the princes will feel about you? You feel tainted, dirty, like you killed him yourself, with your bare hands.

You couldn't handle that, you didn't want to take the man's life. You couldn't stop looking at the blood, the smell of iron now clinging close to where you're stuck at.

“Please, let me go. You got what you wanted.” You try one more time.

“You think I got what I wanted?” His hands strongly hold your already immobile wrists. “Princess, I could do this anytime I wished, but I want you.” He says and you shiver even more. “I want you to be the star. My Queen. The one they admire, I want you to stay with me.”

“What? W-what do you mean by that?”

“Thor is not coming back.” He says almost too softly, nonchalant, apathetic, you want to throw up. You're feeling dizzy, there's a knot in your stomach and you don't know what to do. 

“What?! What? What??! Why? What have you done to him?! What about Loki?!” You cry and beg for answers.

He chuckles. The mask moving with each small laugh he lets out, you want to rip it off his face. This person you already hate so much.

“It's so sweet of you, it matches your nickname. Sweet, sweet, darling thing. It's so beautiful to know just how much you care about me.” He moves the mask off his face and you're unmoving, you go completely limp as you stare at the face you admired before, the tears wouldn't go away.

Were they correct this whole time? You've been considering a psychopath as your friend this whole time?

“L-Loki?” You hate how you stutter as you say his name, you hate to see him smile at that. You hate that you don't hate him, because your brain can't link the murders to him. Not him. “Loki, why?” 

“My father made me love this play, he taught me everything. I was here when it was created, Odin thought of the leaders like brave warriors, soldiers. The weaker ones got killed first but only he remained.” Loki's voice now sounded so suave to your ears, you imagined the strange one must have been granted through his magic and illusions.

“Such a beautiful story, sweetheart. It has so many layers, I can't wait for you to get involved in this artwork as much as I do.” His smile was so bright you felt nauseated, you couldn't even speak. “Look at the irony, look at it! The Norns must love me! Odin died first, he isn't here to present my thriving. I'm the only one that's left, the leader, the King, the ruler. I'm winning now, and the act is going on!”

He conjures a knife and presses it close to your neck, making you yelp and jump a little out of the chair. You're surprised you can move now, but he still grabs you forcefully and pulls you up to him. 

“I was the one that made Thor bring you here. I was paying attention to you for so long, it didn't take much convincing until the oaf agreed, he even befriended you. You have no idea how long I've had to wait with my nerves at bay.” His jealousy was visible as he spoke and you shook from his words.

“Look at them. The blood of the undeserving, the weak ones. We are above them, my princess. You and me. We can win this game. I'd never, ever, hurt you.” He says the last sentence with a seriously cold expression, you open your mouth and leave out a loud cry. His frown deepen.

“What's wrong? I thought you wanted to see how the play goes?”

“Not like this. Please…Loki…” You feel his hand reaching under the skin of your dress, pulling it up and moving to caress your thigh. You feel perverted as your eyes open and you look at the blood and the terrified faces among the stage.

You take the moment he's distracted to rush out of his grip, he's caught unexpectedly so his knife accidently cuts your shoulder, you grunt from the small wound. 

You turn to leave as quickly as you can, Loki chuckles to himself, thinking about how cute it is, that you think you can be quicker than him. That you're trying to escape, it's what a really smart princess would do, to be brave enough to try.

You pass through bushes, a weird unknown garden to you, wanting to find anyone else that was there before, anyone from the crowd that was running away, screaming loudly your pleas for help that no one hears. 

You look behind, not seeing him makes you even more uneasy. You can feel his presence near you, you don't know where he is. 

There's a particular downhill area you didn't see right in front of you, you accidently fall. Your legs failing you and hitting the ground from a long altitude distance, cutting your face and any naked skin you're letting out, your bones felt the fall and you curse how stupid you were not to pay attention.

Your skin is tainted with dirt, your face now on the ground. You think your foot is out of place as you groan out in pain, it hurts to move it. You can't believe you could ever be so stupid. Your dress is so painfully yellow after all the dirt.

You cry like a little kid.

You're surprised when your phone —the one you threw away — is right next to you, ringing and intact. Your face is so puffy from the fall, and because of all the crying, all the fear.

You move your arms and hold it close to your ears. “Hello?” Your voice trembles.

“I should have told you, you can't run away from me, darling.” Loki's voice echoes through your mind now, you almost feel it like a safety blanket covering your skin after the defeat, you don't know if you should accept the loss or not. Like a balm, a salve. 

He's the one that hangs up this time.

You feel a pair of arms holding you up with him, cozying you into his arms, so you can peacefully rest your head onto his chest, still covered by the dark cloak.

He pats your head, letting his hand softly caress your back as you lay in his arms, he's carrying you somewhere else.

You see the people now, the Asgardians, and the actors from before. So you quickly put your head back to Loki's chest again, wishing to hide away.

“I shouldn't have just thrown it on you like that,” he keeps his soft touches on your clothed back, his magic cleaning the dirt on your skin, balming the wounds. “It takes a lot from someone, but you're so pretty when you're scared. I got carried away, I'm so sorry.” He quickly apologizes after he says so, you keep hidden, not wishing to speak.

He sighs tiredly, he massages your scalp, you almost mewl like a kitten when he does it. Your heart still aches with fear and he tears up at your shivering, afraid he's broken you.

“To all the Asgardians,” he begins, voice loud and authoritative. “I expect all of you to do your normal duties tomorrow, everyone in their expected places. I'll have the lights fixed after I have my fun.” His fingers massage your scalp as he mentions that. His other hand holds you up by your buttocks, he's steadying you in his arms.

Unknowingly to your hiding self, the Asgardians nod tearfully and all so scared of his statements. They all were quivering under Loki's gaze. He seemed like a true mad King to their eyes. 

To Loki, he's never been more sane, this is all he ever wanted, he's got you in his arms now. And Thor is gone. He's a King.

“To the actors,” he looks at the frightened crew still in their respective places. “I expect a full play. Just as we planned.” He gestures to them to continue, they lock eyes with each other and look at the corpse close to their feet. “Now.” Loki could only roll his eyes with impatience.

They move in their respective places, getting ready for the show. Loki sits on the throne with you clinging to him like a koala. He's smirking all too proud, he loves feeling needed.

He considers putting the mask back, it's a symbol for greatness in this art. It's what his father used to say.

“Love,” he calls. Not wanting to frighten you more, you look up to him with a quivering lip. “You're okay, we're okay.” 

He lifts a bit the end of your dress again, unbothered by the actors frantically moving among themselves, not knowing if they should look or not.

He grabs your ass cheek, making you gasp from the suddenness. You don't want to think about the scene, so you don't. You stick to appreciating his closeness, and him, you feel like a pervert for enjoying this, his low voice speaking against your skin.

He kisses you.

“I'll make you feel better.” He brings you up a bit to lick down your earlobe, moving to kiss your neck. “I'll make it all better, I promise. I've been reckless.” He says, taking off his gloves and pressing his nails against your skin, marking tiny half-moon shapes on your flesh.

Wanting to fully feel you, smiling as he remembers the desperation from the man, he's dreamt years of this performance. Of having a figure to be conquered, the star of the show, you.

The blood still covered his cloak, and it's starting to taint your beautiful, innocent skin. It entices him more, of course. He groans near your ear, you moan under his touch in response.

He hears the movement from the play and he grabs your hair tenderly, you've had enough for one day, he has to be kind, you need his softness that you adore so much. The one he reserves only for you.

He takes off your dress and lets it slip off your body, he's in awe as more of your skin reaches his eyes, his breath hanging for a second.

The actors now well enough not to look at you while the King has you in his arms.

He grabs more than he can, he feels graced by the Gods. He wants to suffocate you with his passion, the blood on your skin tainting his hands. The blood gets him so hard, leaving him impatient as he ruts against your clothed pussy, searching for friction.

He sucks on your neck, taking his time to your shoulders, your hands tremble as you move to grab his hair. You keep your eyes closed, each breath you tried to convince yourself this was completely fine.

Loki's eyes glance to the stage for a moment, he takes a look at a character picking the ghostface mask off the floor, and with a shaky breath and, most likely heavy heart, the next thing to be heard was a short scream. The cut of the knife tainted the actors even more, one of them turned to run to a corner and throw up.

Loki pressed his hands against your ears so you wouldn't listen to the vomit, nor the blood splashing out. But you knew.

"Weak bastards," Loki thought, "they'd never survive a war. Weak, fake puritans. Their blood is a noble sacrifice."

Loki kept a hold of your head to his chest so you wouldn't watch the scene, you were still shaking, poor thing, wouldn't be able to take it. Your curiosity was dangerous to you, he had to keep you safer than he assumed necessary, innocent, untainted little thing.

“Princess,” he takes your face between his hands, only leaving a small distance between his lips to yours, practically speaking right into your mouth. You blushed under his loving gaze. “Can I have you?”

Your breath stopped short, you were so dizzy you feared fainting from such intense emotions. Loki was all you wanted, but after this? You were terrified.

“You don't need to accept, I won't even make you watch the show. I fear it'd be too much for your pure heart to take,” he carefully fixes a singular strand of your hair to behind your ear.

“I'm not pure,” you meekly said, your eyes stinging with the weight of the truth. You've never felt dirtier, never felt more like a sinner. If punishments were deserving for those who committed atrocities, you trembled to believe you'd need them all. “I'm not pure, I deserve to suffer.”

“Don't say that,” Loki sternly commands. “Don't say that, not you. If there's a soul in this universe that deserves all the nine realms, it is you.” His words are stern but so soft, you once again feel your lips quiver at the start of another sob. You were way too emotional, everything was way too wrong.

Everything but the sensual way he was touching you.

His fingers kept a gentle caress of your back, down your spine, to reach your hips and buttocks. His breath hitched as he gritted his teeth, attempting patience, waiting for a sign that you soon granted him.

“Please…” You begged, like a poor little mouse under his tricks. He felt oh so blessed, the Norns truly must love him. He practically yanks you panties down, they hang somewhere around your calves as he starts to touch your needy cunt.

He skillfully touches your folds, your pussy clenching from the movements he's making, he slips his fingers inside your cunt to stroke that sensitive spot inside of you, curling his fingers, making you a mess.

“That's it, sweetheart, take your pleasure,” he craved those pleased whiny moans of yours, they were a treasure to his ears, you were clenching around him and lifting yourself a bit up with each thrusting of his fingers. He couldn't control his groans to himself. “Take it from me, it's yours. All yours.”

His palm circles your clit, paying extra attention to the moments you get sensitive, shivering under his hold like his precious toy, heat running down your skin. You shamelessly begin riding his palm. He kept your legs fully open now with his other hand, keeping a strong grip on your skin.

“Let me play, darling. Don't be cruel.” You didn't know if your tears came from pleasure or fear now. Your mind wasn't allowing you to focus on the seriousness of the situation, you didn't want to look at the blood, and the smell of him intoxicated you to the point you ignored the smell of iron around the place.

“Y-yes…” You mindlessly opened your legs further, making him give you the prettiest, most devilish grin your eyes could see.

“I'll treat you so well, you will enjoy being mine, princess. I'll make sure you do.” You don't hold your moaning, unafraid of the possible eyes wandering to your figure. Your nails digged his shoulders, your hips rutted against him unashamed, begging for the friction, for more of his marvelous fingers.

He helps you through your climax as you're gushing over his clothes, you're a trembling mess, coming undone for him, your entire face now very sticky with sweat and tears, the post-orgasmic bliss clouding your mind.

“Do you want to know how the show ends?” You feel goosebumps as he asks that, no, no you don't want to.

He looks down at you, bringing his fingers up as a trail of your cum sticks on the way to his mouth. You're dazed as he licks his fingers clean, keeping eye contact with you, you see a bit of blood sticking in between the act.

You wonder whose blood it is, if this is any hygienic, but you supposed being a God had its perks for these things. Your eyes squeezed tight in shame.

He makes sure to lift your face to make your eyes open again.

“No need to feel embarrassed if you like it.” Your blood boils and the heat you feel increases, how dare he? To assume you'd like being part of something so cruel?

“I don't like it.” You say coldly, not passing any of the burbling rage you feel.

He laughs a bit from your serious expression, you feel mocked. You knit your brows, you didn't know Loki could be this way.

“I love you, princess.” It's like a stab on your heart after the cruelness.

“No, you don't.” He scoops you up his arms, out of a sudden, you yelp as you're lifted, instinctively holding up around his neck.

He moves the throne magically to the center of the theater. Everything looks so hazed and spectacularly planned out.

He places you carefully down the throne, even fixing the skirt of your dress as he leaves you there.

You feel out of place, the characters that are alive have pleading eyes but none have the courage to move and run away. You begin to feel your blood boil for them too, how could they be so weak? How could you?

“My heart.” Loki calls you, you shiver because of the pet-name.

Your tears came back again, and your head now stings drastically from so much crying. If you survived, the headache you'd feel tomorrow will be painful.

Now, your fear was one thing, your anger another, even your cries as you orgasmed were angelical and he craved them like a sick bastard. But your sadness? That stung deep into his heart, ripping it like a carved knife tearing his insides out.

“Please… please don't cry, love. It's okay.” He never thought he'd beg another, he wanted to make everyone else pay. But you? You didn't deserve pain or suffering, and now you're crying because your poor heart is so sad it can't take any more of what he's made you go through.

He'd have to go a long time apologizing, your sadness was starting to cling to his bones.

“My love, look at me.” He holds your hand, kneeling by your side down the throne. Like you're the Queen and he's just a peasant, your servant, a pet.

You don't feel very royal at the moment, you don't really feel in control. If that's what he's planning on doing.

“That's my pretty girl.” As much as you're defiant and trying to keep yourself unattached, you can't help but blush at his words. They seem innocent, they seem honest. “My pretty girl, now the Queen of Asgard. Just as you deserve.” He looks down at your body and licks his lips. He'd feed you all the compliments in the world just because you deserve them.

His hands slide to your thighs and squish them under his hands. He leaves out an animalistic moan, looking up at you with so much desire clinging to his pupils.

“I've been waiting for this part the whole night.” You feel off at that, but he holds you as he hovers over your figure on the throne, quickly scrambling to get rid of his pants. Your panties have been discarded a long time ago, so the wetness is now ruining the fancy marble of the throne, your cheeks warm up at the realization.

He's pinning you against the throne with his weight, his back to the audience, covering you.

He sheaths himself inside of you, he goes in more easily than you imagined, making your eyes round as you feel him throbbing inside you, desperate to move.

He pulls out a bit and thrusts back into you at once. He has an insufferable smile covering his face, and his eyes closed in pleasure, appreciating the warmth of your cunt squeezing him in, welcoming his cock like you're made for him.

“Oh princess, I envied all the souls that had the pleasure of being near you.” He grabs your chin roughly forcing you to look into his eyes, your own eyes moist as you feel so inferior to him. “But what can they do now? What would they do now that I have you? I have you. I have you.” You pant as he bucks so deep into you, you can feel it hitting impossibly deep to the hilt.

“Y-you don't.”

“Oh?” He taunts. “Is that so, my heart? What does it look like to you?” He keeps his punishing pace into you, hands pressing down your womb where you can both feel the bump of his manhood shoving into you, balls repeatedly hitting your ass with every frantic thrusting. His sweat hitting your skin as he fucked you like a beast. “Because to me,” another harsh thrust, you moan and crave your nails on the skin of his back, legs wrapping around his waist. “It seems like I've won.”

Your eyes roll up your skull as he keeps hitting that sensitive spot, he was craving the sensation of your exploding orgasm, he craved to feel your cunt straining his cock as you milk his cock. His hand moves lower as his thrusts become more powerful, he rubs your clit. He hears your panting and moans into your ear like your sounds are a victory of its own.

You cling to him as his hips work you until your head falls backwards, the lights all on you as you spasm around him and his massive form still holding you for dear life. Loki finished with a bite down onto your neck, right next to your lifeline, biting a bruise as you felt him spilling into you.

You cling to him as you cease your rocking hips, he holds your tired legs down as he keeps himself rested inside you, calming down his breathing as your forehead touches his.

You look down and see the earlier blood smeared across your skin, you gulp, he feels your cunt clench from the sight and he gives a satisfied smile.

He coos you into his arms, embracing your form.

“I have you, princess.” He pulls out carefully and you hiss from oversensitivity. A long string of his cum coming out of you, you watch it with fascination as it runs down your thighs, moving a bit so it doesn't ruin the pristine throne. “I have you, my star.”

He conjures a knife again, and hands it to you. You watch it dazedly, the bliss really making you more fuzzy.

“Dearest,” he sweetly calls you, he's been doing that a lot, you notice. “The star needs to finish the show. The true leader. The one they're obsessed with, the true Star.”

You're limp as you take the news, you move the knife on your hands with a detached curiosity, it's clean now but you wonder for how long it's been used, and for what kind of things.

“I can't kill anyone.” You weakly say, afraid you'll disappoint, his eyes are wide but he still nods. He's quick to show you he's not disappointed.

He pats your hair and nuzzles your cheek with his face, getting your lips close to him so he can give you multiple and multiple kisses all over your face. You feel his affection like a healing balm in itself, you bathe yourself in it.

“It's okay, it doesn't need to be you.” He affirms, still passing his hands across your hair, and skin. He glanced at another actor, you hid your face again into his chest as you anticipate the cruel fate that'll obviously occur no matter what.

And it did, you heard another splash, someone else needed to die. You're shaking and your sobbing is louder than you wanted, Loki keeps you scooped onto him. He begins rocking you back and forth gently as a means to calm you down, cherishing you, babying you.

“The Star agrees for it to be the end, I presume?” He asks and you nod repeatedly. You just want it to end.

“Please… please, no more.” You beg weakly, he cradles you and coos some more, keeping you safely tucked in his arms, he starts to move around to stand up with you still clinging onto him like a koala.

“This will be all.” He gives a satisfied smile to the crowd of actors, the ones that survived shaking, trembling. Still meekly downing their heads as all actors do when a play's over. They rush to the exits, and Loki allows them.

“Shh, now.” He still asks of you as your cries are unstopping. “Please, love, it's over.”

“What will happen now?”

“I've told you, I'm the King. Nothing will happen, this play lasted for generations, it's the first opportunity I've had of making it my own. Centuries before you even dreamed to exist, but they don't dare to defy the King.” He patiently passes his hand up and down your back, holding you more to him. “We're safe. I told you. We're all safe.”

You guessed he wasn't going to refer to the dead people around you, or the ones that died in the way.

He takes a trembling you with him somewhere else, you don't know where you're going, but you don't have the bravery to peek out and see. You're still afraid to be the next.

You feel even more perverted everytime you think about death and feel his sticky cum running down your thighs, you feel even more perverted as you don't regret it.

“I'll take you to our chambers.” He says, as if it's nothing.

“Our chambers? Mine is…” He interrupts you. You check around and notice you're inside the cold castle, nobody's in sight but you and Loki.

“No…not yours, our chamber.” He recalls you. You shake your head clinging to his chest again, leaving out another sob.

“I'm sorry,” he continues, frowning now. “Do you hate me?” His voice trembles as he asks, your fists curled around his muscular chest as your mind fights to hate him, but you fear you don't. You don't want to tell him that you don't hate him. “This was more traumatic to you than I assumed it would be.”

Your eyes open as you try to look anywhere but his face, and as you peek at the floor, you see the shiny, bloody ghost face mask left on the floor. As if it's nothing now, as if nothing happened.

It gives you the chills.

“I-I, I've never had to–” You sob loudly. “Never thought I'd need to see- see people being murdered.” Your stinging eyes now struggled to keep open, you fought to breathe and to speak. He tries to calm you down and rubs over your clothed skin some more.

“My love, my heart, it's over now.”

Is it? Is it over? Was it all a huge nightmare? Your eyes squeeze shut as you wish for it to be all a giant, mean trick. But as you opened them, everything was real, and the blood, the cum, the memories, still very much present speckled across your impure skin.

“It's over.” He places you ever so gently down his giant bed, it felt heavenly, the pillows were so soft and the mattress smelled like paradise. It felt so heavenly you sighed out in relief, your bones received the touch against the bed like a treat. “It's been enough for this year, but we'll need to treasure the future performances.”

Your heart froze, of course. There were additionals.

“You don't need to worry about that now, my heart.” He pleads again, kissing you, you accept, and then pressing a gentle peck to your forehead. “For now, I'll let you relax. I'll prepare a bath for us, and I'll let you rest your divine mind into dreamland. Does this sound suitable?” He asks with a kind smile, smoothing his fingers over your wrists.

You clear your throat to say.

“Yes.”

“Perfect, my heart. As I have you, I'll take care of you. I've planned to have you as my Queen for a long time. I won't let it go to waste, I promise I'll take care of you.” He scoops you up to him again, he seemed to enjoy treating you like a princess a lot. Cradling his face next to yours. “One day you'll forgive me. But for now, for now, let me make you learn how to love me.”

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101

[ak319]

Yan Princess x fem reader

(Warnings: Possessive themes, G!P OC, Stalking, Blackmailing)

Part III ➺ Part I ➺ Part II

(Your name is Deniz in the story)

(YOUR POV)

It’s been a week since I came back home, and thankfully, everything is going well. Clara accepted my resignation (though it saddens me), and yesterday, I went for a job interview followed by a little hangout with friends. It turned out to be one of the best days I’ve had in a long time, and even the interview went great. Now, my family and I are sitting together for tea, making plans for a picnic.

Suddenly in midst of it all, Clara called and you went to answer it excusing yourself.

"Hello? What’s up?" You were now leaning against the small dining table in the kitchen, casting occasional contented glances toward your family members who were chatting jovially.

"I am doing wonderful now and got a news...don't worry, a good one."

"What is it then?"

"I received the copy of the official document stating that the forest is now government owned. Although, you and I both know, this is nothing but a load of shit. But at least we have it now. On paper." No matter what kind of fraud this was , at least it's a good news.

"Well, still. Come on, be happy. We-you got it! Congratulations!. Don't think if I am not there I ain't asking for a treat. Send me a cake or something."

"No, we got it. And whoa, look at you. Not even a week as my ex-employee, and you’re already acting like a greedy goblin." Her words made me mock-gasp in exaggerated shock.

"Come on, don’t be cruel. I thought I was your unofficial sugar baby," I teased, unable to suppress my laughter as she chuckled.

"Well, no offense but I think your 'real sugar mommy' is the one who did it. You know what these signatures mean , don't you? She's back in England." She teased back.

Her words made me wince and a wave of bitterness laced my words.

"Clara, please. Don't say her name right now."

"Okay, okay. I was just kidding—" I nearly dropped the phone as the world around me seemed to blur. My eyes locked onto the television where my dad, with an expression mirroring my own, stared in shock, joined by other family members.

"Hello? You have a habit of freezing up during calls, Deniz—"

"SHE'S HERE, CLARA! She’s bloody in [city/country]! For a damn visit." I watched the live footage of her disembarking from the plane, surrounded by a throng of admirers—from children to officials—paying homage. A bouquet of posies was secured in her arms as cameras flashed, capturing that winsome, striking smile of hers. Her walk was impeccably poised , that same signature poised stride that all royals have. What could have brought her here? My palms were getting sweaty for no reason.

"You mean Kade?! Wait let me-" I waited for her to check the footage herself. "Oh my God, bloody fuck- she is there." Clara and I went back forth on what and how of her visit , with me conferring with my family on the side. At the end , we all collectively decided to just sit back and see what happens. It's not like we can control all of this. But everyone did feel a bit creeped out by this, especially me. I said goodbye to Clara after we cursed Kade enough and I went to my room, deciding to occupy myself with something other than staring at the television whilst gnawing my nails. God, please, please, please, don't let her know my address. I prayed every second in my head.

Once I had calmed down a little, I heard my dad’s voice calling me. With a heavy heart, I dragged my feet back to the living room.

"She’s visiting your school! Your junior school." Right now, I wished I could crawl back into my mother’s womb. I stood frozen in the middle of the lounge, my face blank, staring at her figure as she wandered the same halls I once did.

"What is she doing there?" I would've told you mother. if I knew myself.

Her eyes were a cloak, concealing something—guile, a hidden intention, a plot. I swallowed hard as she entered my classroom.

My classroom... of all the rooms, she chose that one. As if she knows. Who am I kidding? Of course, she knows! She was surveying every corner, while a group of teachers chattered around her, trying their best to be hospitable. Then, her fingers traced a chart on the wall—one that I made! And it’s still there! I could recognize it from miles away. God...

You flopped on the couch besides your Dad who was watching with the same seething anger and dread as you.

"Isn't it a bit romantic...though?" Both of our heads snapped to my mother who gulped at our revulsed and dubious glare.

"I am sorry, I was kidding. I am gonna go... make some wings." She scurried out of the lounge and I felt my Dad pulling me to his chest.

"Don't you dare worry. She ain't entering or even coming near my household or you. Got it, love?" I smiled and nodded.

"She is doing all this to intimidate me perhaps, but I don't care. I am fine. Don't worry." I laid my head on his chest as he switched to something else.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

After spending the evening watching a movie and playing board games with my family, I finally went to bed. But curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself looking up information about Kade’s visit. I needed to know why she came here—there had to be something more, some reason behind all the funds she poured into this trip.

So, let’s see—charity work, a lot of it for orphans and the needy. Meetings with dignitaries, donations to hospitals and schools, including mine. My eyebrows knitted into a frown as I glanced at a picture of her crouched down, smiling warmly while posing with children.

Hm. So she signed the documents in England and then came here for a sudden visit. Forget it , Deniz. The more you think, the more paranoid you are going to be.

And without second thoughts you drifted into dreamland , imagining yourself getting the job you applied for.

As you were washing the dishes after breakfast, the bell rang and you went to answer the door.

"A letter and a package for...Miss Deniz."

"Yes, it's me." I took the stuff and examined it. "Who's it from?" There was no address or name on it.

"I have no idea, Ma'am. Have a nice day." And without listening to my reply he cycled off.

"Wait!-"

No, no, no. What if-

I dashed inside after locking the door and hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to open the envelope. But now that I had it , I guess I should open it. I tore the envelope and began reading the contents. With every word, my heart sank as if it were a lift plunging down into a mineshaft.

'Dear Deniz,

I pray to the Almighty that you are safe and reading this with the smile I long to see, as desperately as a parched soul craves water. I want to share that I am euphoric after visiting your homeland—the very place where your eyes first opened and where you spoke your first words. The people were incredibly welcoming, and they seemed to take to me as well, perhaps a bit too fervently. Isn’t it remarkable how effortlessly I connected with them? If they were ever to discover the history we share...

"What on earth is she talking about? What history?!" I had to take a sip of water just to process the blasphemy she’s spewing.

‘..,you’ll be swarmed by them for interviews. Wouldn’t that be a sight?’

God, no.

Your hands gripped the front of your shirt so tightly, trembling with the anxiety that wouldn’t let you sit still for even a moment.

I see it now… the hidden threat buried beneath her saccharine words.

‘By the way, have you opened the package yet? If you have, well—’"

The package revealed another parchment—a draft of some kind for an article. It featured an old photo of me from a group shot with my teammates during a hangout. Kade was there too, looming behind me, her gaze fixed on the back of my head. Her expression was as if we were--a couple. What the hell? Where did she dig this up from!? Probably from Reece or someone else. But at the moment, the origin of the picture is irrelevant—the article itself was shaking the ground beneath my feet.

'Princess Kade to Tie the Knot with Her Childhood Sweetheart.'

And the fucking writer?

Alfie. Yes, Clara's cousin.

She bought him! This cannot be real.

"Then, unless you wish for it to be made public, I suggest you book the very next flight to London and return. If you don't, this article will be out for the whole world to see and your people may not appreciate how you will choose to dismiss me. The rumours have already spread of me coming there to meet my alleged bride. You have driven me to do this, Deniz. The reason I want you back in England is simple: I wish to speak with you one last time before I take my final leave from your life. You long to be free of me, don't you? My love repulses you, doesn't it? Then, liberate yourself—meet me just once more. I don't want it to end like this. I'll be waiting, Deniz..."

Irrevocably yours,

K.E.

She came here to manipulate the whole population. I can't believe this. Hold yourself together. Okay, first, call Clara and ask her about the felony her cousin committed.

You grabbed your phone and dialed Clara's number but it was turned off. She must be busy. I'll try later. But what do I do now?! You took the stuff and went to your room , waiting for your father to come back home so you can tell him all this.

As a matter of fact, she didn't pick up. No matter where I call her from or which device, the call is not going. Neither to Leo or anyone in England. It's been two days and time is running out. Kade can publish that article with a snap of fingers and my whole life will be--upside down! Everyone was upset around me and my father was not letting me go back there which is valid but I feel so trapped and worried , not only for myself but for Clara and Leo. Do they know about this?! Are they okay?!

"Papa, I have to go. I think she just did this to make me meet her."

"Exactly the reason I am not letting you go!" He yelled for the umpteenth time.

"What about this article and my calls not reaching anyone there?!"

"That article be damned! I told you this before. We will refute it! It will be an embarrassment for her , NOT YOU! Since when did I raise a chicken like you?!" His last words triggered something inside me. He was right...I never panicked like this. It hurt to see myself so weak, so scared for...I don't even know what at this point.

"Hey, hey. My dear," His hands cradled my face , wiping my tears. "I didn't mean it that way. I just want you to handle this like my Deniz would. And that is by giving no shits. You think people will hate you? Over false claims? Absolutely not. Absolutely not, baby." He swayed gently as I sniffled in his chest.

"P-papa. It-it's just--I feel this underlying threat in her words. It's not sitting right with me."

"Deniz-" Before he could continue, his phone buzzed in the pocket and it was a text from an unknown number.

'Time's ticking.'

That's all it said. Your breath hitched, and your eyes met your father's.

This was the first time I even saw my father shook.

"I swear--fuck them. FUCK EM' ALL!"

"Look, papa. I'll go there and find Clara and take her with me to meet Kade. I won't go alone. Promise."

"What if you don't come back?! You know what? We all are going then." He stomped to his room, leaving me in a daze of relief yet fear for what was about to come. You better be ready, Kade. You did the biggest mistake of your life by coming near my family.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

As soon as we arrived at the airport, Richard appeared with a group of guards and insisted that I be taken to the Princess immediately. Despite our reluctance, it became clear that we had no choice; we couldn’t leave the airport without complying. He then agreed that my parents could accompany us, but I was to meet with Kade alone.

We arrived at a secluded field after dropping my parents at a nearby cabin. This was one of the hunting grounds near Westminster Palace. Under different circumstances, I might have found the scenery enchanting. As I approached Kade, standing tall and solitary in the middle of the field with her back to me, my heart pounded harder with every step. She was dressed in a dark, tailored hunting jacket that accentuated her strong frame, with sleek riding boots that sank slightly into the earth beneath her. The deep green of her outfit blended with the surroundings, making her seem both part of the landscape and yet standing out with undeniable presence. Her imposing figure seemed to amplify the gravity of the moment, and I couldn’t focus on anything except the inevitability of what was about to happen.

"Long time, no see," she finally said, turning to face you, "Deniz."

I chuckled dryly, shaking my head. "Oh yes, I can't believe we met! Haha! What a coincidence, damn. Life is just so funny sometimes isn't it?" She nodded biting her cheek.

"I know you’re upset, you have every right to be. For everything..." She leisurely stepped a bit forward. The longing she once wore so openly was now absent from her hazel eyes, which were instead filled with nervous melancholy. Yet, despite the sadness, a gentle, almost defeated smile graced her lips whenever our gazes met.

"Oh, you have no idea." My jaw clenched as I rolled my sleeve. "After the thing you did with the parcel."

"Deniz, I had to—" Her words were cut off as my hand struck her cheek. Richard moved to intervene, but she swiftly raised her hand, signaling him to stop. "Give us a moment," she said, her voice firm yet tinged with a weary resignation.

You couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Don't ever come near my family. Ever. And don't think I don't know about the fucking- HACKING! I--do you ever just sit and realize what the fuck you did or are doing?! To me?!" I heaved in a breath as I paced a few steps back.

"Like I said, how you feel is valid. I am taking responsibility for everything I did. But we are ending it today aren't we?" I let out a huff at her words, meeting her eyes.

"Kade, only things which have a beginning, end. This wasn't anything."

════∘◦❁◦∘════

(Kade's POV)

If hearts could bleed, mine would be spilling its sorrow like a broken fountain right now. The sting of the slap itself barely registered, but her words—God, they cut deep. I knew this confrontation was inevitable, it’s what I wanted, despite the pain. I needed her to release all that she had been holding back. It’s crucial for her to let it out now, to face it and move through it. She has to. I straightened up, keeping my composure intact.

"Deniz, I have a deal for you."

"Deal? I didn't come here for a deal."

"Just listen for a moment? Please. The deal is for your own benefit and it's simple. It's not even a deal, let's say--a compensation. I just want you to hunt a deer. " Taking advantage of her muddled impression, I continued. "Let your anger go, starting today. I want this--whatever this was from my side, to end on a good note. For us to separate on a good note. For you to forgive me. Whether you like it or not , we did share some--I would say--light hearted moments in the past, at least just--look Deniz--would you do it? I once heard you say that you would love to hunt if one day you could. This is all I am asking from you right now. I want to see you happy, at least."

The frown on your face, along with the lingering distrust, didn’t fade for a moment. You are still the same Deniz I last saw. Having you here before me overwhelms me with a torrent of emotions and the worst part of it all is you don't even realize. You never fucking will realize the effect you have on me. That is the problem. Which I am to fix.

I can only hope it’s not the opposite for her. After all, I’m not an unattractive woman.

But again, you are also...you. Ever so cold and stubborn. Would you be smiling if Reece was in my place? NO! No, she can never or ever will be in my place. You hate her too. Perhaps even more than me. The thought made internally chuckle.

"What if I say no?" Her tired voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Then...you would loose a good opportunity to hunt. I guess." I grinned. Either way Deniz , I am going to win today.

"Hunt with you?" Oh, I wish , darling.

"No, no. I don’t want to upset you further. You see, I’ll stay here, and that deer which is said to be a—"

"Muntjac. I’ve heard about it." Your reply made me tilt my head in surprise, I was genuinely impressed. Whenever I think the love for you couldn't increase more, you prove me wrong. "So, is that a yes?"

This time, she stepped closer and looked up at me with a neutral expression, but I could still see the anger, fatigue, and determination flickering in her eyes.

"After this, will you truly be out of my life? Forever? You better be." Her voice held a fragile steadiness, but the question cut deep. I could only nod, my own voice lost in the churning emotions. But remember, Kade—hold fast to what you’ve strived for. This is the last phase.

"I promise. This, will end here, Deniz. I am sorry for everything, go and shoot the bastard, imagine my face while doing it." I gestured to Richard to bring the rifle and the female hunter, Louisa, to go assist her.

"I will be waiting. Have a good hunt, I know you will come back victorious." She's just like me, always chasing the win.

You turned around before getting in the buggy. "What if you're sending her along to kill me?. Am I the prey here?" My eyes nearly bulged out of my sockets.

"Deniz! Don't you dare think that! If you feel that way , you don't have to go! But don't you dare think of me as someone who will harm you, ever!" My outburst made her simply scoff and sit in the vehicle as Louisa drove off. As brave as ever. But I know from inside how vulnerable you must be feeling. My fists clenched at the mere thought of you thinking such a foul thing about me.

"You think... this is a good idea, Your Grace?" Richard asked, joining me as we watched the buggy in the distance.

"Ideas have long since run their course, Richard. This is my last resort. I’ll make it work, come hell or high water."

You are my prey, indeed.

Part IV

[beingdreeyore]

There are a lot of thoughts today.

It's a rainy, miserable, cold day - the best kind for the these kinda thoughts. So much going round and round in my head.

I've scrubbed most of the house and I have the slow cooker going. A random assortment of ingredients just tossed in with some kinda sense it should work out in the end. I watched a few episodes of different shows. The thoughts haven't stopped.

This morning I allowed myself to blowup his email. It's the only avenue of communication where I don't think I'm blocked. So I unleashed. It wasn't aggressive or accusatory. It was more than a polite amount of emails though. It asked just for a phone call to officially end things and say goodbye forever. A real forever. Never again for our paths to cross in this lifetime. Because I want him gone now.

I sent so many emails... And I have to say that I don't care. I care about him and I care about me, but I do not care if he thinks the emails were too much. What I've learned in these six and a half years is that anything that isn't 100% on his terms is "too much." So if he perceives those emails as too much, well that's his to deal with. Chances are that most days he would see one email as "too much" because it wasn't something he pre-approved.

I want some form of closure so that I can move on.

I want something that actually feels like love and feels safe - this isn't it. So I want a phone call to mark a goodbye so I have a moment in time where I know I can really start to grieve and begin the journey to healing. I don't want him to reappear in a month with more promises. I can't do that.

He didn't reply to any of those emails, of course. So I did something else I've never done. Something that would signal to him that I am not fucking around this time and that I really have had enough of this behaviour. I found his brother on Facebook and messaged him. I apologised for reaching out in such an awkward way and then asked if he could please nudge S the Ex to contact me as I was a bit lost as to why I'd been blocked but I'd like to move on with my life and meet someone new. So could he please just ask his brother to do that. What the brother does with that I don't really care. I know he will tell S the Ex about it, and maybe that's enough. Maybe then S the Ex will understand that he has forced my hand and I'm just disgusted with him now.

The degree of cruelty a human has to be comfortable with to treat another how he treats me is something that I can't comprehend. I can't and won't have someone like that in my life anymore. Someone like that does not deserve the love and support that I have shown. They do not deserve the endless patience that I have offered.

There is so much fear inside of me... This was the man that I was always meant to marry and end up with... What happens to me now? What if no one ever loves me again? What if this really was the best that there was ever going to be for me and I'm someone who is just unloveable and who doesn't deserve a partner? What if this is the best there is for me because it's a reflection on my value as a human? Maybe I should just hang onto him because this painful love is better than none?

But does he even love me? Surely love isn't meant to make you feel like this? But how would I know?

I'm 41 in less than three weeks. It becomes more realistic with every passing day that chances are no one ever will really love me. But surely it has to be better to be completely alone than having this constant pain from someone pretending to love me? It has to be. Surely.

Right...?

[cricketsjunk]

Can i request headcanons for Muzan with a fat s/o? Would like female pronouns please!

Also by fat i don't mean like the 600 pounds people you see on tv i mean like, BBW sized. This is coming from a fat girl and i have no problem calling it fat, so thats why in case you would say something about that

okay, i'm gonna say it right now, for anyone who even tries to look up ''bbw'' look up ''bbw clothing'' otherwise you're gonna get a bunch of pics of naked women.

And for those who don't know, BBW stands for Big Beautiful Women.

And I only have a few pics as an example here -

These are the body types that instantly come to mind so i'm going to be doing them based on that , hope thats okay!

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

NSFW mentions but no actual sexual intercourse.

Muzan with a BBW / Chunky S/o

Never thought he'd fall for someone. He thought he would never feel such, humane feelings, such as 'love' or 'kindness'. He was sure he left that behind when he became the Demon King.

But then that all changed when he saw you.

You met on the street, you were in the middle of shopping for what seemed like a hairpin, when a group of skinny women approached your figure. And he watched with surprising interest, wondering what you'd do.

Would you cower? Would you ignore them? He was curious to know.

And he was not disappointed when you merely looked at them, gave them a one over glance, flipped them off, and continued on your way.

And when you bumped into him, you did not cower in fear of him. No, all you did was mumble a 'sorry, ' before continuing on your way.

Only pausing to turn around and give a smile, "Beautiful eyes, by the way."

Watching your deletcable figure walking away, igniting a newfound desire in him...

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

Sorry, wanted to give a quick background info on to how ya met for this scenario- oof.

NOW TO THE HEADCANONS

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

He demands respect for you. You are his queen and dammit you will be treated as such.

Loves, i mean, absolutely adores the way you squeak whenever he decides to ''randomly'' pick you up. He loves the embarrassed look you get.

Expect him to smack your ass here and there for no real reason, other than to watch your butt jiggle in its wake.

Will either do you Missionary or cowgirl. Nothing else. Unless he is feeling really horny, then he might do doggystyle, but he likes to see all of you in your glory before him when he is pleasuring you.

Absolutely hates the way you make him feel soft. He will be pissed at a moon, and the second he sees your plump ass figure walking by, instant calm.

Can and WILL spoil you in every kind of clothing you like. Will NOT take no for an answer. And won't hesitate to hire (or threaten) the designer if what you like isn't in your size.

If you ever feel down about your body, he will cancel his plans for that evening (Sadly unless its news about the blue spider lily-) to show you just how gorgeous it is.

WILL sometimes make you wear skin tight clothing, only in your shared room though. He is the only one who will ever see your delicious rolls cling to such tight fabric. Its not only a turn on for him, but it makes him weak in the knees.

Has you sit in his lap often and will shut up any protests with a deep kiss. He won't admit it, but he finds the extra weight on his lap comforting.

Hires only the best of chefs to fix your food. Nothing is too good for his Queen. And he will occasionally hire someone to help you maintain your sexy thick figure without becoming too big as you put it, or too small.

Overall, he adores you, has trouble keeping his hands off you, and one day wants to see if he can't make you his official queen of demons, with your consent of course.

(Though he will turn you by force if he must. He refuses to lose you.)

He has to keep Douma away from you a lot though...

[enhypia]

NK ; gamers and their significant other

gamers and their significant other answers questions with the choice of drinking instead of answering

pairings: nishimura riki x gn!reader

genre: pure fluff and fun

words: roughly 1.2k

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

~guides and warnings~

italics - reader speaking

bold - ni-ki speaking

[enclosed] - interviewer speaking

italicized bold- both reader and ni-ki speaking

[enclosed bold or italics] - question (depends on who's speaking)

heavily inspired by: rec.create lie detector games, cut truth or drink

warning: contains and mentions of !!! drinking and swearing

this work has minimal mentions of drinking compared to other parts in this series

i don't promote underage drinking, save your livers

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello~ i'm ni-ki

and i'm (y/n)!

we're ....

he's a gamer and i'm their partner !!

yeah!

[okay, you guys were invited here today as partners with one being a gamer, for a fun little drinking game, you guys are aware of that right?]

yes we were

i'm just here to expose ni-ki honestly

ey~

[who's the gamer?]

i am he is

[but do you also play?}

sometimes, but i mostly just watch ni-ki play

[how did you guys meet?]

through a game

they suck at it

but i pulled you even if i was bad at it so

*ni-ki rolls his eyes

*(y/n) :P

[how long have you guys been together?]

2 years

3 years next month

*(y/n) :O

what?

you remembered?

ey~ that hurts

*both laugh

[were there any fights because of his gaming?]

YES *(y/n) laughs out loud while ni-ki hangs his head in shame

but they aren't big fights? mostly just sulking. i can just remember one major fight

they sulk when i don't pay them attention

and you sulk when i start to treat you how you treat me whenever you're playing too much

*ni-ki pouts

which is not giving me attention :P

[but did you have any problems with his gaming?]

nope, gaming makes ni-ki genuinely happy, and i love seeing him happy

*ni-ki does a heart towards (y/n)

we did have that one major fight i mentioned

i couldn't play for a week because of it, but that's what made me realize that no amount of gaming is worth enough to lose (y/n)

*(y/n) drinks making ni-ki laugh

give me a warning next time gosh.

[okay, how about we officially start the q&a between you guys?]

*both nod and played rock paper and scissors to determine who gets to ask first, ni-ki wins

*ni-ki laughs after reading the question

[have you ever thought about deleting my games whenever you get mad at me?]

no! those cost too much

eh? i don't believe you! you once threatened to delete my games

yah! you knew i was joking at that time

*ni-ki laughs when you pout and he pats your head after

i know i know

i already know the answer to this

[have you ever avoided talking to me to play your games?]

*ni-ki drinks

when we first started dating and i was with him one time when he was playing, i messed around with his phone and i found out i was on mUTE ?!:'&?!

*ni-ki covers his face in guilt

[did you get mad when you found out?]

not really ?? i was just in disbelief

but i did show you that everyone else was muted

they were automated messages ni-ki, you left the gcs instead of muting them *(y/n) deadpanned

i'm sorry~~

*(y/n) rolls their eyes

[was it a turn off finding out i was into gaming or i was a gamer?]

*(y/n) drinks

*ni-ki is shocked

really??

no, i'm just kidding, and i wanted to drink

if anything i was more impressed than turned off since i still do play, i just suck at it

so you admit that i'm good at gaming? *he raises his eyebrows back and forth

stop acting like i don't compliment you about it 24/7 riki

*riki laughs

ohh, you better answer this carefully nishimura riki

i'm scared

[would you rather not play video games forever, or lose me?]

... ..

forever ?

mhmm

... like forever forever ??

ni-ki just drink

*both laugh

it's okay i understand baby, i know my place *(y/n) teases

*ni-ki grins and envelopes (y/n) in a big hug

which is #1 !!

*camera just pans around the pair's adorableness

[question for both: would you trade/sell your significant other for a game console?]

oh he would definitely sell me for a game console, i would be more surprised if he didn't.

*ni-ki is quiet

it depends on the console though

*(y/n) rolls their eyes

but what about you huh?

it depends on the console :P

yah!

[choose one: a gift that i really like or a rare expensive skin you want?]

this whole thing is targeted around the gamer i swear

i know right? i love it

*ni-ki playfully glares at (y/n)

you'd make me choose the skin anyways

yes i would, it's a rare skin, my gift can wait.

thanks, ily <33

ily too, now read the next question

[did you ever get jealous with the people i play with?]

....

*(y/n) drinks, ni-ki laughs

wait! let me defend myself

okay, defend your stand

i don't really mind whoever he plays with honestly, but there are really just times when he's not playing with his friends, and his teammates are just ???

just what???

riki, baby, they were flirting with you.

,,,, eh?

YOU DIDN'T NOTICE?

nO?!

well that's good i guess. but yeah, technically i wasn't really jealous since ni-ki never responded to their advances. i was more of,, irritated ??

i really didn't notice.

it's when i would just suddenly but in, making sure i was heard

ahHH!

wait, that happens a lot,,,,

that's okay *(y/n) pats ni-ki, stay oblivious

eh, i don't really care anyways, i have you

*(y/n) blushes and lightly slaps ni-ki's arms

it's the last one

aww :((

[freestyle for both! ask each other any question you want]

ohhh, should i go first?

yes please

[uhm,, do you wish i put more effort in playing games than just stick to watching you play?]

*ni-ki thinks deeply

sometimes i do because it's always fun playing with you but then if you continue to play. no one would cuddle me while i play

*(y/n) laughs

what? that's like my recharge every time i lose! it's always nice to have someone there just hug you whenever you win or lose

okay okay, i get it, basically i'll try to play more but not too much?

yes <3

*(y/n) rolls their eyes fondly

just ask your question nishimura riki

i'm still thinking!

think faster!

*both laugh

[,,, can i buy the new fifa game?]

*(y/n) groans while ni-ki bursts out laughing

i will kick you riki

okay, okay, this is my real question.

[be my forever player two?]

*(y/n) error error currently malfunctioning

yah! *(y/n) is blushing very hard and ni-ki is just laughing

you think you're so smooth huh?

am i not?

i will unplug your console while you play tonight

*ni-ki continues to tease (y/n) while everyone in the studio is just melting

[that's the best way to end this in my opinion]

right? *ni-ki is smiling proudly and (y/n) shakes their head in disbelief

thanks for having us~ we had fun

thank you~

*both wave at the camera, and cut!

»————-　♡　————-«

bonus: youtube comments

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

a/n: and cut!! we're done, this is the last installment in the speak or shot series <33 i can't believe it's finished omg?? i also wanted to end on a good note so i made this one just pure fluff and fun. thank you so much for sticking to this series!! i'm planning to start more in the future. please look forward to them~

[jedijesi]

Luminary Love

Prince!Din Djarin x F!Princess!Reader

🤍Masterlist🤍

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut (F receiving, PiV, Breeding kink)

Summary: Tonight is your (unwanted) wedding to the soon-to-be King of Mandalore, but is there more to him than meets the eye?

Word Count: 3,100+

A/N: I’ve had this idea for several days now and I just needed to write it. Don’t worry tho bc the next ch. of biblichor will b out soon. Enjoy some Din content!🤍

All night long, you received congratulations and cheers. Thousands, billions of people would kill to be in your position, but you dreaded this more than anything. You never wanted to marry the soon-to-be king of Mandalore, but the Royal administration never gave you an option. Throughout the fantastical wedding, you repeatedly reminded yourself it was for your people - they are the ones who will prosper from this. Thankfully, his creed forbade him from removing his helmet in front of others, therefore you weren’t allowed to kiss him. The only time you had to touch him during the ceremony was when you held hands. Even then, his mastiff-leather gloves create a barrier from any real contact.

After the ceremony, you avoided your new husband as best you could. When it was time to put on a show, you had forced yourself to put on the royal smile you had been practicing. When eating, you sat as far away as possible from him but not far enough to worry the royal administrations that watched you two tentatively. The times you were called to waltz, you performed what you had been learning for months but never made eye contact with him. After a few dances, the royals watching had joined in and forgotten about you, giving you the perfect chance to escape.

You spent your time talking with other royalty, expressing your worries and concerns to Princess Mary of Ryloth. Unlike you, she was happily married, but it was her 3rd time. The first two suitors weren’t ‘good enough’ for her, so she became the royal’s biggest scandal and ignored her administration to marry for love. Luckily her experience with terrible lovers led to wonderful tips and tricks that she gladly gave you for your wedding night. You knew she was telling you these things to help, but in reality, it only made you feel worse about your new life.

“Djarin, my oldest friend, how are you enjoying your wedding?” General Paz said with a heavy pat to Din’s pauldron.

“It’s… grand.” Din sounded unconvinced by his own words.

“Grand? Is that all you have to say?”

“Well, everything appears wonderful, but my wife won’t speak nor look at me.”

“Have you attempted to talk to her?”

“Of course!” Din and Paz turn to watch you talk to Princess Mary. “She never responds, though.”

The uncomfortable feeling of Din’s stare props you to turn around. The blue and silver beskar statues jump when you catch them and quickly turn back to avoid any further embarrassment.

“I haven’t seen her in years, but she has grown to be quite beautiful, you must admit.” Paz shrugs.

“I know, it’s one of the many reasons I married her. I just… wish she’d give me a chance.”

“Well, she better. I overheard that the administration is already seething that you two haven’t gone back to your honeymoon suite.”

Din rolls his eyes under his helmet. “I don’t care about them. They shouldn’t have a say in my marriage.”

“Good luck arguing that. You know they expect an heir to be conceived tonight.”

“I already have Grogu. Is he not enough?”

“Nothing is enough for them, my friend.” Paz pats Din’s back reassuringly. “Just be kind to the poor girl. I’m sure she isn’t pleased with all of this.” He gestures to the grand chandeliers and dramatic towers of cake and food.

Din sighs as he fiddles with the edge of his cape. “Alright. I should probably go fetch her before the Administration creates any more drama.”

“Good luck, your majesty.” Paz bows as Din walks your way.

Din let’s go of his cape before wiping his armor of any lingering bits of dust and dirt, wanting to be as presentable as possible for you. When Din arrives behind you, he clears his throat and bows.

“My Princess, it is time for us to leave for the Honeymoon Suite.”

Without a word, you give him a nod and take his arm. The guests cheer and whisper as you and your husband make your way out of the ballroom. You could hear Royal Administers whisper their concerns regarding your fertility or your performance in bed. It was dehumanizing, to say the least. You fought for justice and equality on Naboo, but this was not the way on Mandalore. Your new role would be diminished to a supporting queen who would raise the future heirs. Meanwhile, the other women of Mandalore were busy serving valiantly in wars. This was the way. Mandalore was born out of extremists, and you had to embrace the consequences.

Din hated the whispers. If he were king, he would have lashed out long ago, but the coronation isn’t for another few days. You didn’t deserve to be treated as an object. Din saw you to be the goddess that would help lead his people into prosperity and the gorgeous woman who may one day graciously birth his children. Such slander against someone so perfect made Din rage under his helmet. A few more days. Din would remind himself.

.

The Suite reflected Mandalore: grand and majestic. Silver swirls of beskar outlined the stained glass windows that watched over Mandalore. The bed was larger than any other you had seen before. It looked cozy; a complete contrast to the large and uncomfortable dress you’ve been wearing all day. You walked over to touch the silk-like blankets and sighed at its softness.

Din watched you with interest - mesmerized by the way the roaring fireplace creates a golden glow on your features. “Wife?”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t you look at me?” The flicker of sadness in his voice took you by surprise. You weren’t sure if Mandalorians could feel emotions underneath the layers of cold beskar. “Do I… scare you?”

You turn to look at him, your nerves shining through by the twiddling of your thumbs. “I… I don't know.”

“What is wrong, my dear princess? I want to fix this. I don't want to start our marriage off on the wrong foot.” You sit down on the luxurious bed, your eyes now watching as you fiddle with your dress. Din walks towards you, taking a knee to be at eye level with you. “I understand this isn't what you wanted. I heard whispers that it took the maids an hour to get you off your ship. That you fought off any guard that laid a hand on you.” Din chuckled at the image he had created in his head. “But then the fighting stopped… why?” You couldn't find it within yourself to respond. “Won’t you please entertain my curiosity?”

You sighed and looked up into the dark visor. “I realized I was being selfish. I had forgotten that marriage among the royals was for the people… not for love.”

“You do not love me?”

“We barely know each other, your majesty.”

“What are you speaking of? We used to be best friends.”

You scoffed at Din. “We were children, your majesty. You were just a servant boy in the palace back then, but times have changed, haven't they, your majesty.”

“Please refrain from calling me ‘your majesty.’ I thought we were beyond that.” Din groaned, annoyed by the ridiculous title.

“Din, you're to become the Mandalore - the king - in a few days' time. I understand the rules - I understand why you had to marry me.”

“What? So that I could officially hold the title as king? I don't care about a stupid title - the administration does.”

“Then why marry me? There are millions of royals lined up to marry the Mandalore, but why choose me, Din? Why?” You started getting hysterical at it all. Your life's work had come to a halt just so that Din could be crowned king. It was disgusting and unfair.

“As an orphan-servant boy, the days your family visited were the best days of my life. Your parents always treated me like their own - the complete opposite of how the Kryze family did. I meant it when I said you were my best friend. You were the only person who could beat Paz and me in a fight. The only person who would sneak out of the palace to play in the garden at night with me. When your parents… passed and you stopped visiting me… It crushed me. I never stopped thinking about you, my princess.”

You could hear the build-up of tears in Din’s throat, but he wasn't the only one. You too had tears in your eyes, remembering the once pure and innocent life you had. You bring your hand up to din's helmet, holding where his cheek would be.

“Do you remember that last night?”

“Of course I do. It was a cold night in the rose garden. I gave you my coat since you had insisted you didn't need your shall.” Din smiled and chuckled at the memory.

“I... I never saw your lips, but I had never felt such pure joy than the moment they molded against mine.”

Din leans his head forward to rest your foreheads together. Underneath, he continued to beam. It had been so long since he had felt such love - such love that could only be created by you.

“My princess, I never stopped loving you. Even as we grew up and apart, I would watch the holovids that spoke about you, and all the wonderful things you were doing for your people. It was the only thing that kept me going through those torturous years apart from you. I love you.”

Din’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. You reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your head in the crook of his neck. “I love you too, Din.”

“My wife?”

“Yes, my husband?���

“Will you take this ridiculous helmet off of me so that I may kiss you and make love to you?”

Your glowing smile melts Din’s heart. Your hand reaches up to slowly slide off the silver beskar helmet that covered those features you dreamt of. An audible gasp escapes past your lips when Din’s lips appear. It took everything in you to not pounce on him and cover him in kisses, but you maintain your composure. His nose was strong and beautiful, and his cheeks… oh, how you wanted to leave lipstick stains on them. Then were his perfect eyes. Those chocolate eyes that expressed an amount of love you'd never completely fathom in your life.

“You're stunning, Din.” Din’s heart flutters at your words. The only compliment he's ever received was about his combat skills and valor. He's never been complimented on his looks before.

“I’d never compare to my gorgeous wife.”

Din takes your face into his palms and slowly pulls you in for a kiss. The moment your lips touch, you feel fireworks exploding all around you. The glowing lights flash behind your eyelids as you mold your lips together. The tickle of his mustache causes you to giggle into the kiss, which Din finds to be enchanting. One of Din's hands leaves your face to grip your torso, massaging and kneading your skin.

“I love you.” He murmurs into the kiss. “I love you more than the moons and stars.”

As the kisses become more intense, so does your lust for one another. Din’s hands undo the strings of your wedding dress as you shed his armor off - lips never leaving each other. Once you two were completely naked, Din had you crawl to the center of the bed.

“Now, lay back, my love. I want to show you how much I love and miss you.” You follow his instructions and rest your head on the large cloud-like pillows.

Din crawls between your legs, taking one into his hand. Starting from your ankle, he works his way down, leaving a trail of sloppy yet delicate kisses. He takes his time at your inner thigh, sucking and licking at your skin to make you emit whimpers.

“D-Din, please don't tease me.”

“Hush, now. Let me take my time loving you.” And he does. He spends his time worshiping your body - kissing and sucking the skin around your lips while his hand massages your breasts. Suddenly, Din dives into your sopping wet cunt, immediately sucking and licking your swollen clit. You let out a loud gasp followed by a moan, making Din’s cock bounce up in excitement.

Your noises sound like music - the most angelic music he's ever heard in his life. Each moan and whimper you let out only addicted him more. Din wraps his hands around your waist and sits back, lifting your hips from the bed and to his mouth. You grip the blankets with a scream as Din explores further into your pussy. The animalistic grunts and growls he lets out only make you wetter.

“Come on, Princess. Cum. Cum all over my face. I need it.” And just like that, you let out a scream as you convulse around his tongue. Din slowly lowers you back onto the bed as he licks up your dripping cum. “You're sweeter than a meiloorun, darling. I've never tasted anything so divine. I’d love to stay between your legs forever and drink your cum until the day I die, but I wanna put a baby in you too badly to do so.” You let out a whimper at his filthy words. “Can I, darling? Will you let me fuck a baby into you?”

“Wait, we're not done?” You ask through pants.

“Not done? We’ll be done when the sun wakes up. Even then, I'm not sure if we'll ever be done. Why?”

“The other princesses said it would only be a minute of discomfort, and it’ll be over.

Din tsks and shakes his head, pressing a few kisses to your clit. “Oh, my darling. I'm not like those other royals. I care about my wife’s pleasure, and you…” Din presses more kisses to your overstimulated heat. “Are nowhere near done with your, please. So, I'll ask you again. Are you ready for me to fuck a baby into you with my thick, hard cock?”

“Stars, yes! Please, Din!” You hated how completely and utterly desperate you sounded, but you were completely and utterly desperate for Din to fuck you.

Din crawls up to meet your half-lidded eyes, drooping with lust. He places soft kisses on your cheeks before pressing one to your lips. “Are you ready for me, Princess?”

“Yes, my husband.”

Din grabs his cock, lining it up with your entrance. With a loud moan, he enters your sopping wet pussy.

“Oh, you're so wet! Ungh… Stars, you're so tight too!” Din’s thrusts speed up to a steady pace, your moans echoing through the room along with the lewd, wet sounds of your bodies pounding together. “From this day forward, y-your. Pussy. Belongs. To. Me.” Din emphasizes his words with his cock hitting against your g-spot.

“O-Only i-if your cock b-belongs - Oh yes, Din - To me.”

Din chuckles through his labored breaths. “Of course, my love. My cock is forever yours to do what you please with. I don't care what time- ugnh- or what p-place. It's yours.” You lean up to capture din’s parted lips, swallowing his beautiful moans. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten. Desperate for your release, you buck your hips back into Din. “Yes, take my cock. It's yours. All yours.” Din takes your legs, pushing them to your chest. Both of you let out a series of loud moans at the deeper feeling.

“Oh, Din! I'm going to cum if you keep doing that!”

“Ugh, I can see the galaxy when I'm inside you! Can you feel that, my love?”

“Yes, I-I can feel your throbbing cock!” You throw your head back at the euphoric feeling. Your exposed neck allows Din to swoop down and suck marks onto it.

“Th-That's me, claiming what's mine. You're all mine, my princess.” Din’s thrusts speed up, desperate and ready for you to cum. Each thrust was accompanied by a loud grunt that made you clench even tighter. “I'm gonna cum. I'm going to give you a baby - our baby. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Din! I love y-you!” You scream out a slew of ‘i love yous’ and clench tightly around Din’s swollen cock. Your orgasm and words of love cause Din to cum, sending spurts of his cum into your womb, where your future child would soon grow.

Din collapses on you which you gladly accept. You wrap your arms around his neck and place kisses on the crown of his head. Both of you stay like that for a while, basking in pure love. Once your breaths are back to normal, Din slowly pulls out of you to lay on the bed beside you. He pulls you closer to him so that no space lingered and adjusted the blankets to create a cocoon of comfort around you two.

You smile as you listen to his heartbeat against his chest. Din’s index finger presses to the underside of your chin, adjusting your eyes to look into his.

“Are you okay, my love?”

You nod lazily, completely worn out. “You know, having a husband isn't so bad after all.” Din lets out a hearty laugh before leaning down to kiss you.

“Yeah, having a wife isn't so bad either.” Din smirks at you, causing you to shy away in embarrassment and return your attention to his chest. Your fingers trace shapes and words onto his chest until you stop. A mark on Din’s torso prompts you to inspect it. “What are your curious fingers doing, my love?”

“What is this?” You ask as your finger traces the mark.

“It’s just a scar, dearest.”

“A scar?” You look back at Din with worry in your eyes.

“Oh, don't worry, my love. I've collected so many over the years, I've become immune to them. That one was either from when I fought Bo-Katan or when I fought a mudhorn to save my son.”

“Goodness.... I've missed so much of your life.” Your face droops with sadness, but Din is quick to relieve your worries.

“Now, it's nothing to be upset over. Yes, we've missed a lot, but that means we can spend the rest of our lives catching up and making new memories. Plus, you can meet my son tomorrow.”

You smile and press a chaste kiss to Din’s lips. “I’d love that.” You pressed another kiss to his lips, but this one wasn't so innocent.

“Did I not satisfy you, my love?” Din chuckles into the kiss. You climb on top of him and shake your head. “Oh, does my princess want more?”

You give Din a mischievous grin and shrug.

Din smirks before leaning in to kiss you. “Well, who am I to deny my wife of her wishes?”

A/N: Idk who from my Javier Peña taglist wants to be on this one, but those who are interested in being added to a Din Djarin taglist or a perminante taglist, please let me know.🤍 Can’t wait to hear what you all think!

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Was Napoleon a tyrant? I don't necessarily think he was: at least, I believe he was a better alternative to the absolute monarchs he was fighting. But there are those who disagree. What are your thoughts on the subject?

This is a can of worms to be sure.

I mean....how are we defining the word tyrant? All monarchs are tyrants to someone. Monarchy, by its very nature, is tyrannical in one way, shape, or form, no matter who is at its head. Even in the more neutered forms we see now days with the British. The Queen still exerts a ridiculous amount of power, all things considered.

Napoleon was no better or worse than any other monarch in Europe at that time. Indeed, better than some, worse than others. Because you know, he was human!

-

This got VERY long. SO LONG. Choice excerpts from below the cut:

"'Power was encroaching with large strides behind the words order and stability,' as Thibaudeau put it."

"(And I suspect he was concerned about seeming too eager for power/setting up a monarchical system. Fouche: You're about as subtle as a canon going off right next door. Napoleon: Hush.)"

"Theeeeeen the little bastard (affectionate) became Emperor."

"Napoleon Vs. Jeff Bezos: fight! fight! fight! (I'm putting my money on Napoleon.)"

--

tl;dr: a more or less benevolent emperor who had his faults and who was intimately aware, for better or worse, more than most monarchs, that the head is only tenuously attached to the body. (Skim to the bottom for my thoughts on the personal things i.e. how I interpret Napoleon's actions and brain)

But, more seriously, as with most absolute statements, I am opposed to calling him a tyrant because it is reductive and serves no purpose except to make broad sweeping political statements that I believe are far more about the person making the statement exemplifying their modern political, republican position (as in, actual republican-I-support-the-existence-of-republics not the gop) rather than expressing any sort of truth about the past. (wHaT iS tRuTh.)

For historical purposes, it can over-simplify the situation and lead to skewed interpretations of events because you're coming in with this word that has a lot of modern, 20th and 21st century baggage to it.

And, because these people are coming in with this big, bad word of tyrant as a label for Napoleon, it doesn't allow them to engage with the nuance and complexities of his reign.

Anyway.

Napoleon, as emperor, supported centralized power held in his own hands, with support from other governing bodies (senate, council of state etc.). However, Napoleon had a lot of influence in the structuring of these governing bodies and the subsequent appointments as a means to exert control over entities that would otherwise be able to act somewhat independent from him and impinge his power.

We see this consolidation of power beginning, obviously, under the consulate. 'Power was encroaching with large strides behind the words order and stability,' as Thibaudeau put it.

There was the whole theatre around the Tribunate offering to extend Napoleon's tenure as First Consul for another ten years as a means of thanks/showing gratitude for all he did for France (Fouche was like: fuck that, let's just make a statue of the guy). Napoleon played the part of Humble Servant of the Public and refused both statue and the ten year extension. (Very Julius Caesar: You all did see that on the Lupercal, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition?)

In actuality, though, he was pissed because he wanted it extended for life.

This resulted in the Council of State deciding "independently" (i.e. Napoleon wasn't present but he sure as hell influenced that Council session) to hold a plebiscite in order to ask The People two key questions: 'Should Napoleon Bonaparte be consul for life?' and 'Should he have the right to designate his successor?'

Napoleon nixed the second question saying to Cambaceres, 'The testament of Louis XIV was not respected, so why should mine be? A dead man has nothing to say.' Which is to say, he knew people would vote for him to be Consul for life, but the prospect of him choosing a successor, a la the Roman Empire, and having that choice be without input from the people and respected upon his death? Less clear.

(And, I suspect he was concerned about seeming too eager for power/setting up a monarchical system.

Fouche: You're about as subtle as a canon going off right next door.

Napoleon: Hush.)

For the Plebiscite, there were around 3.56 million votes for Yes to the question of Napoleon as consul for life and only around 8,300 for No.

The turnout rate was 60% which is uhh...impressive! (To be fair, there was no real evidence of tampering with the vote. Unlike in subsequent Plebiscites, such as the results for Do We Make Him Emperor, which were absolutely doctored. But, considering the highest turnout ever seen in the French Revolution was around 30/35%, double that is certainly something.)

Lafayette was pissed with this. He kicked up a fuss in the Senate and wrote to Napoleon saying that his 'restorative dictatorship' had been well and fine for now but has Napoleon thought about restoring liberty? and that he was certain Napoleon, of all people, wouldn't want an 'arbitrary regime' to be installed!

Napoleon: Bold of you to assume that, Lafayette.

There were, at this time, some mumblings and grumblings about tyranny from the liberals and those still wanting to continue the experiment of the French Republic, to be sure. They increased as time went on and Napoleon's power continued to consolidate.

Theeeeeen the little bastard (affectionate) became Emperor.

Lafayette: WhAt Is tHiS??

Napoleon: Look into my face and tell me honestly that you are shocked.

--

His government, as Consul and as Emperor, was centralized and very top-down in how it operated. Little was done without Napoleon's input.

The seemingly democratic institutions that had propped him up into power were retained and Napoleon used them as a means to facilitate his rule. As noted earlier, Napoleon had a heavy hand in appointments and the processes in place to fill various offices. Nothing was really...independent of him and his influence.

Though, in terms of Image Building of Empire, Napoleon worked hard to try and maintain the façade of impartiality as emperor. That he was head of state, sure, but all state apparatuses operated independent of him.

(Why is Napoleon's hat so big? because it is full of lies supporting the imperial image making machine.)

That said, when it came to filling those offices, Napoleon focused on merit more than anything as he wanted his governing officials to be capable, hardworking and, above all else, loyal.

(A good quote from Napoleon in one of his more Eat the Rich moments of the consulate: 'One cannot treat wealth as a title of nobility. A rich man is often a layabout without merit. A rich merchant is often only so by virtue of the art of selling expensively or stealing.'

Napoleon Vs. Jeff Bezos: fight! fight! fight!

(I'm putting my money on Napoleon.) )

--

This is getting really long and I feel that I've not addressed anything in a useful manner, but am I going to stop? No.

--

Napoleon, himself, at least in 1803, did express some conflicted views about assuming an imperial title. To Roederer he said, 'So many great things have been achieved over the past three years under the title of consul. It should be kept.'

Cambaceres said to Napoleon that upon assuming an imperial title 'your position changes and places you at odds with yourself.' No longer are you merely a public servant, an upholder of the Republic's ideals. Now you are a man wearing a crown, trying to be the upholder of the Republic's ideals.

(nb: I feel that duality is something Napoleon never fully got a handle on. He would veer strongly into authoritarian monarch then have moments of Rousseau-ian Idealism.)

Napoleon was insistent that his rule be a parliamentary monarchy (keeping the governance framework implemented in the Constitution of Year VIII, if I am not mistaken. But don't quote me on that.) and that the French were not his subjects but his people.

So, the imperial government worked thus with the Legislative process divided between four bodies:

Council of State which would draw up legislative proposals,

Tribunate which could debate on legislation but not vote on it,

a legislative body which could vote on legislation but not discuss it, and

Senate which would consider whether the proposed legislation conformed to the Constitution.

The Senate and the Legislative body could, theoretically, curtail Napoleon’s freedom/power. However, considering the fact that he was involved in the appointment process of these offices, and the general rhythm of daily governance, how much power they were able to exert over him was limited.

(This is at his height! Of course, towards the end we see a shift in that. But that's largely tied up in his military defeats and the British banging the door knocker demanding to be let in. Also they brought with them some friends. You might have heard of them? Bourbons?)

The initial terms the Senate brought to Napoleon with their offer of accepting him as a hereditary monarch included, but weren't limited to:

liberty cannot be infringed

equality cannot be jeopardized

sovereignty of the people must be maintained

the laws of the nation are inviolable

all institutions were to be free from undue imperial influence (e.g. the press)

the nation should never be put into a position where it needs to behead the head of state. Again.

Napoleon was uh. Not best pleased with this and had a new version drafted up that included acknowledgement of the sovereignty of the people, but a lot of the other things (e.g. freedom of the press) were cut out.

Yet, Napoleon maintained certain parts of the French Revolution's values which were reflected more in the 1804 Code Napoleon and other legislative and legal pieces than in the initial terms of Senatorial acceptance of his imperial title.

Some of the things enshrined in the Code that were carry-over from the Revolution include, but aren't limited to, the abolition of feudalism, equality before the law, freedom of conscience (to practice their own religion), gave fixed title to those who had bought church and émigré lands during the 1790s, and the equality of taxation was maintained (tax those aristos and the church). Also, there was affirmation of the idea of careers being "open to talent" rather than an accident of birth (as touched on above).

The Freedom of Conscience clause in the Code was a further formalization of several Articles Napoleon amended onto the Concordat in 1802. The Articles guaranteed the principle of religious toleration and made the Protestant and Jewish churches similarly subject to state authority (alongside the Catholic).

These are just a brief summary of some of the more liberal/revolution-informed aspects of Napoleon's governing.

The non-liberal ones I believe we're all pretty familiar with: suppression of the free press, roll-back of rights for women (women are for babies!), reinstatement of slavery (which he later reversed circa 1810/12-ish), top-down Emperor-has-final-word approach to ruling (Napoleon was all about Authority From Above, Trust From Below) etc. etc.

At the end of this, I would say Napoleon's empire falls into that "benevolent monarch" situation. For a given value of "benevolent." As stated at the start, he was like most other monarchs in Europe at the time. Better than some, not as great about certain things as others.

--

Really, it all ties back to Order and Stability.

Napoleon's assent, and his approach to strong, centralized ruling, was a result of uncertainty and constant government change over ten years of revolution alongside the growing belief, by 1803, that a republic like the Romans or Greeks was not going to happen any time soon. Not without constant warfare and the forever looming threat of a Bourbon restoration.

In addition, Napoleon was doing imperial drag. (If that makes sense.) He was dialing the notch of Emperor up to 11 - being the most emperor of all emperors. So, state control was absolute because he couldn't show any signs of weakness - either in his own body, his familial body, or the body of state. The court protocols were intense and over-the-top at times because he had to prove he was not just a second son of a parvenu lawyer from the sticks. No! he was worthy of this pomp. He was worthy of imperial majesty. He was worthy of the crown and scepter.

Napoleon was not raised to be anything other than a military officer and a middle-class head of a family (would have been a MASTER at doing Sunday Dad Puttering About the House). When he dawned the mantel of power, particularly that of empire, he had to make it up as he went along. For such a self-conscious and proud man, this was difficult. He never wanted to misstep and be embarrassed - on a personal level, political or military.

At the same time, he was reared on Rousseau and Revolution so still had those values and ideals imbedded in him, and those fears and memories. Napoleon knew as well as any Frenchman that a monarch's head is easily removable should it become necessary. Therefore, he sometimes ran roughshod over the liberty to ensure security. For better or worse, that was the choice he made.

--

Napoleon was a flawed leader with a complex approach to governing that was focused on a centralization of power within him while, at the same time, trying to be the Successor of the Revolution, the Roman Republic and the Roman Empire. Layers! Like an onion.

His approach as emperor really was within the realm of normal-for-the-times when compared to most other monarchs on the European stage in 1800. He also granted liberties to his people that were unheard of in other countries.

I feel like all my Napoleonic ramblings end with the same message: Dude was nuanced. Dude was complex. Dude did good things and bad things. Dude helped people and hurt people. Dude contained multitudes. Because he was simply human, at the end of the day.

--

ANNNNNNND we are done.

Gods bless all y'all who made it this far.

Have my favourite picture of Napoleon at Tuileries as a prize.

hmm that beautiful heavy, handed symbolism.

[drwcn]

I know you usually don't follow where the last snippet leaves off but I'm desperate to know how the conversation went with Lan Qiren after he interrupted Wangxian? Did he snap his sleeve and walk away? Did he tell head eunuch Yue to get rid of wwx?

《 Without Envy 》 snippet 6.2 - concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj [Master List] This snippet immediately follows [snippet 6]

Lan Wangji knew the minute his uncle showed up that this would not be an easy conversation. Up until now, Lan Qiren had been rather hands off with his nephew's personal life, leaving Wangji to do as he pleased. Once a upon a time when Nie Mingjue was alive and Lan Xichen hasn't sworn shut the doors to his harem forever, Lan Qiren had made some plans to see Wangji settled. Man or woman it mattered not, as long as they were of clean pedigree and cared for his nephew. No one expected Lan Wangji to be heir, so as long as his spouse was respectable, Lan Qiren would have advocated on his nephew's behalf if his chosen one was not up to the Elders' standards.

Then of course, Nie Mingjue had died, and everything changed.

Lan Qiren raised and cared for the two princes as though he were his own sons; he knew them better than anyone. Lan Wangji's displeasure with the state of his marriage was no secret. Still, Lan Qiren was quite proud that Wangji was able to put aside his own personal interests for the greater good of the nation. Now that Lan Jingyi and Lan Kaisong were born and the future of the crown was secure, what Wangji did in the privacy of his own harem, really, was his own business.

Lan Qiren knew Wangji did not desire women the way other men did, and he clearly found his ce-wangfu Jin Ziyan about as engaging as a bucket of apples, so when Mo Xuanyu caught his fancy, a servant bought as a child with no status to speak of, Lan Qiren held his tongue. Indulgence was frowned upon, but a little happiness was certainly allowed.

Lan Qiren didn't want to interfere. His nephew was a grown man, after all.

But this was getting ridiculous.

Lan Qiren had heard the talks amongst the officials and the gossips between the courtiers: Hanguang-wang has a "xin-chong". (Note: xin = new, chong = to adore, to spoil, xin-chong refers to a new favourite). But the xin-chong in question was not a new mianshou like Mo Xuanyu as would be expected, but a manservant, a boy of eighteen who was once the peijia of Jiang Yanli.

Apparently, this Wei Wuxian, or A-Xian as he was known, had served Wangji for one night, after which he was transferred from Jiang Yanli's court yard to serve Hanguang-wang personally. The correct, respectable thing to do would've been to raise Wei Wuxian's status to mianshou after that night, but Wangji didn't...instead he kept this boy close to him at all times and acted out all sorts of weird behaviours deviating from his norm!

From court: ...Last week, Hanguang-wang was seen with that servant of his at Zuixian Lou (The Drunk Immortal House) for lunch. Official Zhou from the Ministry of Rites saw it with his own eyes. That servant - A-Xian was his name I believe - sat with dianxia, and dianxia personally put food into his bowl...

From A-Yao when Jin Ziyan came to pay his respects in the palace: ... Lianfang-jun, ever since that A-Xian started serving dianxia, dianxia hasn't stayed the night with any of us. You know I wouldn't complain if it were just for myself, but Luo-meimei, Qin-meimei, and Xuanyu have all been affected! That A-Xian must be a seductive fox!

And most importantly, from Lan Qiren's own trusted eunuch: ... Taishi, this old servant has served you for decades; you know my character and know that I would not dare lie. A pupil of mine serves at Hanguang-fu; he tells me that this A-Xian has monopolized er-dianxia's attention. Morning and night, er-dianxia only wants him to attend to him.

...I hear that this boy is neither efficient nor obedient, but er-dianxia doesn't seem to mind at all. He's...word is he's asked the carpenters to set up a separate trifold and sleeping settee in his room, with silk mattress and fur quilts for this A-Xian so it would 'more efficient' for him.

...No maid, guard, nor eunuch, nor any of the furens in Hanguang-fu has greater sway with er-dianxia than this A-Xian. He even dares to go against ce-wangfu Jin Ziyan. Heavens, Taishi....this is unheard of!

Wei Wu Xian. The one without envy. What a...presumptuous name for a street urchin. The minute the boy looked up Lan Qiren knew: this one was trouble. There was something he did not like in those pretty rui-phoenix eyes. (reference: shape of eyes)

Harrumphing, Lan Qiren seated himself at the head of the room and grimaced when he realized the calligraphy he'd witnessed his nephew and his....whatever...practicing together was a poem named Wuji - unrestrained. A creation of Wangji's, no doubt. The boy has really fallen off the deep end.

Absolutely ridiculous.

Wangji was Gusu's future. A little bit of private indulgence was one thing, but Lan Qiren could not accept some back-street harlot leading Wangji astray.

"Your mistress, Jiang-furen, is the most courteous, amicable gentle lady. Tell me, boy, where did you obtain the skills and the gall to seduce Hanguang-wang?"

"Huangshu!"

~~~

Seduce. Huh.

Is that...what I've been doing? I mean if sleeping in, eating a fuckton, and making terrible congee could be considered seduction, then yeah I'm fucking ace-ing it. Xue Yang would be so proud.

Wei Wuxian looked confusedly between a sour-faced Lan Qiren and a pink-eared, mortified Lan Wangji and thought deep and hard about the last couple of months.

In the back of his mind he was half aware that he should probably be terrified right now if he were a normal servant, but he was not a normal servant (and Lan-taishi was about as scary as his silly mustache was weird) so the only thing Wei Wuxian said when confronted with this outlandish accusation was flat out denial.

"I ...haven't?"

I mean...I haven't? Right?

"Huangshu, Wei Ying has done nothing -"

"Wei Ying? You treat him better than anyone in your harem, like a master of your wangfu and you claim he has done nothing wrong?! We cannot live unrestrained; customs and ethics of a home must be upheld. Is it not true that this A-Xian repeatedly act above his station, taken liberties where he has no right nor authority, and offended your ce-wangfu without consequence?"

Wei Wuxian startled when Lan Wangji came to kneel beside him. Now they really look like a pair of unfortunate lovebirds about to be separated by the will of the family elder.

What the fuck is actually happening right now??? Is this old coo-coo really implying that Lan Zhan... Lan Zhan likes me??? Like...like me like me?

"A person like him cannot remain in your wangfu, Wangji. I would be doing you a disservice if I did not put an end to this. He is from Yunmeng-hou's manor; to not offend the Jiangs, I will not ask you to sell him off, but you will send him back there, at once."

What?!

It was not until now, when the threat of being forced to leave Lan Zhan became imminently real, that Wei Wuxian suddenly realized that he did not want to part with the prince of Gusu at all, not for any mission he may have... but for himself.

[tbc]

[a-libra-writes]

Hey! Could you do these headcanons [💖,💐] for Jaime, or Tyrion? I've been in the GoT fandom “recently” (like a month or two ago?), and I don't see much of them; especially Tyrion (I don't know book-Tyrion yet 👀). I've been reading your blog for a while, and I really like your writings; I'm taking my time to read them again jsjsj. I understand if you don't want to, or doesn't catch your eye; I hope I'm not being rude or anything, but I wanted to try my luck. Please take care and be safe! <3

welcome to our cluuuub! welcome to our cluuuuuub! 

im glad youre enjoying GoT so much, and my blog! You should def give the books a try if you ever have a chance! Book Tyrion is rlly diff in many cool ways, same with Jaime. 

also i uh ... did the thing where i confused the emojis again, so I did “date” for both of them as well LOL oops

💘 Tyrion Date HC

Once Tyrion really starts liking you, he takes you to the loveliest places. We’re talking walks through gardens with little ponds and animals, a covered boat ride on a river, or walking through an exciting market full of Essosi traders. The thing is, he’d never call this “courting”. That makes it too official, too serious. He plays it off as simple visits two friends would make.

He’s excellent at finding out the things you’re interested in. You aren’t aware of it, but Tyrion really pays attention to what you respond to and what you like the most. I mean, he’s already watching you because he loves you, but if you aren’t vibing with an activity and location he’ll take that into consideration for next time.

He has lots of fun experiencing new things with you, period - after you’re together, after you’re married. If he finds out about something new, he’ll tell you so you both can do it together.

Tyrion prefers more private locations, since the court is exhausting and nearly all people he meets don’t like him anyway... but there’s something exciting about having such a pretty girl on his arm, someone who clearly adores him and wants to spend time with him.

Gifts! You tell him he doesn’t have to, but he likes presenting you with little things at the beginning or end of a date. First it’s practical things, so he can brush it off as “You seemed like you could use that”, before it’s just outright pretty jewels and dresses and he has no excuse. At that point it’s because he clearly loves you.

When it’s your name day, he has such a great evening planned out. If you’re married, make that a weekend or a week to travel and enjoy a little mini-vacation. Tyrion is excellent at planning an event in secret, so you have no idea what he has in store until the morning of your birthday.

In a modern AU, he’s not too different - he wants to explore new places and new things. He’d probably live in a city and would always find the strangest hole in the wall places to eat and shop at. If you like books, or records, or clothes, he’s gonna find something really out of the way and specific.

💖Tyrion Pregnancy HC

From the time you announced your pregnancy to the entire 9 months, it was like the worst emotional whiplash he’s ever had. There are SO many thoughts going through his head. Some of them are:

One, he’s delighted you want to have a family with him. Yes, you two are married, but it’s not out of duty to the Lannisters. It’s the ultimate proof you love him, he decides - because there’s a real chance your child could turn out like him, and you don’t care. And he knows you’ll love the child if that happens. He just knows you’ll be a wonderful mother. Second, you clearly express your joy to his family and the courtiers. You’re proud and you don’t care who knows. Third, he thinks about how horrid his own upbringing was, and he’s absolutely 100% determined to be an excellent father. Fourth ...

You get the point. He’s so torn between worry - what if the child is born with a problem, what if you die in childbed, what if he turns out to be a terrible father - and absolute, unbelievable devotion. You thought he was protective and doting before? Nothing is too good for you. You have to tell Tyrion to dial it back a bit, you don’t need new clothes every month and ten sets of silken bedsheets and all this jewelry....

He’s a bundle of nerves the closer the due date is. You two might actually get into spats because you’re exhausted and achey, and he’s just a mess. Jaime actually has to knock sense into him and get him to calm down.

But once your child is born...  it all washes away, like a wave carrying him. He’s so happy. He can’t even function. He wants the hold the child all the time, he wants to see them, talk to them - and he asks so many questions to you and the maester. When will the child talk? When will they walk? Can they understand him? Do they know he’s their father? And so on.

Also, his protectiveness would go through the roof. He would never forbid you from going anywhere or doing anything, but.. he would be obviously nervous if you mentioned you were going travelling or something. 

And it goes without saying he’s keeping extra tabs on Cersei, certain courtiers, maybe his own father. He doesn’t trust any of them for anything.

Bronn will probably get assigned to bodyguard duty for you. He’s clearly not pleased, and you just sigh and dismiss him for the day so you don’t have to listen to his smart mouth.

He likes to feel your stomach, especially when the babe kicks! It relieves his worries that the child might be born “wrong” somehow. The fact they’re kicking, wiggling and moving, seemingly in response to him, makes him feel much better.

💐 Tyrion Family & Kids HC

He’s an excellent father, even though he has his moments of emotional hang-ups. He wants to ensure his child is educated, empathetic and uses their damn head. While he’d be doting and affection, he wouldn’t be a total pushover and can reasonably discipline them. Tyrion is great at talking to children respectfully and treating them like people.

On that note, he has no patience for someone like Cersei or his father trying to butt in on his parenting. He’ll stand up to them and firmly insist he can raise his child on his own, thank you. He won’t take any “advice” or threats from them.

He’d be quite good at figuring out what his children are talented in, and encouraging them. He’s seen what it’s like when a child is forced into a single box and hinge all their worth on that (Jaime) and when they’re looked over and ignored (him and Cersei). 

Yes, he basically decides to do the opposite of whatever his father did.

There would be times when he’d want to educate his children himself, but only on certain subjects - reading and writing, for example. He trusts the maester just fine, he just wants to have that bonding opportunity with them. 

(He’s so proud of all of them no matter what though 😭)

If you’d be up for it, Tyrion would like several children. He’s not 100% on how many, since he’s never really given himself a chance to hope and daydream for a family. He knows he needs a son for the Lannister line to continue, but he’d never force you to continue risking your health for that. Ultimately, however many you want, that’s what he’ll be happy with. If it’s all girls, he’ll love them the same.

💘 Jaime Date HC

It’s actually amusing how bad he is at taking you somewhere interesting. It ends up being an accident - you run into him in a beautiful garden or some obscure part of the Red Keep, and he offers to show you something interesting he found. From there, you two get lost and take a while to find your way back.

... Or you take him somewhere you thought was interesting, and he goes along with it. When you point out that Jaime is pretty bad at this “courting” business, he just scoffs and says that’s definitely not what he’s doing. He’s just visiting with ... a friend ... .... just a friend. Yup.

Another aspect is the fact he’s a Whitecloak, and he might be having to avoid Cersei. That kind of makes things dicey.

However, when he returns from the Dreadfort and that absolute hell of a journey, he’s doesn’t care so much who sees you two. He wants to get away from the Red Keep, even if that’s his duty, so he starts wandering out with you. When Jaime is patrolling on his own and sees a place of interest, he makes a mental note to bring it up to you later. And when he does, and you offer to go with him ... Well, he won’t complain.

Since you two have been so many places, he starts to associate them with you. When he’ll pass by it on his own, he thinks about something you laughed at, or something you told him there. If you ever touched his hand or his face while you two visited a garden, he will remember that touch every single time he passes by. 

After you’ve known each other for a while, and he’s feeling sentimental, he’ll ask, “Do you remember those docks a mile away from the Red Keep? There was a man pushing a cart that had these colorful glasses and wares. You were wearing a blue dress, and when you dirtied it, I carried you around down the street?”

You have no idea where he’s talking about, but that’s the sort of road his memory lane is.

In the modern AU, he’s still pretty terrible at dates. He’s more of the type who wants to wander around with you and just pop into a place that seems interesting - and then he’ll associate you with it. Anytime he sees that cafe chain again, even in a different city, he remembers the hot cocoa you ordered and the little marshmallow mustache you gave yourself.

And honestly, he prefers to stay home with you, cuddling and watching something. He can be as bad as a needy cat when he wants cuddles and attention; you aren’t escaping anytime soon.

💖Jaime Pregnancy HC

Oh no.

Back when Jaime was a boy and lectured endlessly on the duties of a Lannister heir, he didn’t truly understand what that meant. Especially after Cersei coerced him into taking the white cloak, he figured he’d never have children of his own.

... Well. Then there was three. but they never felt like his, which was Cersei’s intention. It was so strange, even if they looked like him, he couldn’t connect Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen to himself.

Also, look who his father is. That’s a lot to unpack.

It’s not until he’s completely left Cersei and lost his sword hand that he starts thinking and seeing things differently. It feels different when you play with the children, when you look longingly at mothers, when he’s intimate with you and you let him finish inside. He starts thinking what it’s like, and that’s scary, considering it never crossed his mind before.

And then he thinks about how his mother died, and what it did to his father. He never openly discusses it with you, but he has nightmares about it. Jaime doesn’t sleep well for a lot of your pregnancy, especially toward the last few months. He does a little better with each child. To distract himself, he takes care of you.

He likes the idea of having two children, a boy and girl, or two boys, but he’s fine with one or more than two. Anything more than four would probably overwhelm him.

Gods save the person who threatens you, even if it’s his sister. His protective instincts go into overdrive, to the point where someone being disrespectful to you on the street will make him want to fight.

💐 Jaime Family & Kids HC

When you tell him, honestly... his first thought is what an awful parent he’d be. He had one example for what a father is like, and he was hardly an influential part in the lives of the three children he sired. You’d have to reassure Jaime and give him confidence, because he has none where this is concerned. He’s positive he’ll screw it up somehow, he’ll be too distant, or too cruel. How do you even hold a baby? What do you say to little ones? He’s going to take care of you, there’s no question of that, but his nervousness is palpable. 

Still, he has such a cute smile when he holds his child - what he considers his first real one - and he right away sees you in them. Their nose, and smile, and eyes. It’s amazing, he decides.

Jaime is a terribly indulgent father. He tries to scold where he can, but more often than not he’s amused by his kid being mischievous. When they pull pranks on guests or get into fights with other kids, he’ll let them off easy if he felt like it was justified. If you’re the more disciplinary parent, the kids totally learn to go to Jaime when they want something.

He’s not overly physically affectionate, but he often ruffles their hair (even if they’re a girl with hair you just braided), gives them rides on his shoulders and lets them sit on his lap and fall asleep. He also has a habit of patting their cheeks or shoulders when he’s pleased.

Jaime didn’t think he’d be excited to teach swordplay and horseback, but he’s so happy when one of his kiddos is interested in both or either. Even if they’re a girl, he can’t help but teach her everything he knows. It also makes him feel better that he has something to teach and pass on even if he lost his sword hand.

Also ... he’s a terrifying papa lion. Do not ever even slightly threaten his children or wife in front of him. His temper and pride will flare and he’ll start a fight right there. 

Related to that, he can fight off Cersei’s cruelty and coldness to you and your children together because he knows how to deal with her. If Tywin disapproved of you in some way, or was trying to take control of how the children were reared, Jaime would genuinely struggle to stand up to him. He doesn’t want his kids to go through the childhood he had, but it’s difficult for him. He won’t go into full “fuck this” mode unless the children are seriously threatened. 

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

Too Daze Gone (Joe x Reader)

(Happy birthday to me! You’re all going to suffer. This is a little something that I wrote over 2 1/2 years ago based on a concept that I thought of three years ago; one of the first ideas I ever had for a Def Leppard fanfic. I made some very minor edits to it ((since I’m not 17 anymore)), and honestly, this is still one of my favorite things that I’ve ever written. But I know you guys are gonna have my head for it later...)

Prompt: It’s December of 1989. You and Joe are recently married, the world has now officially entered the post-Hysteria era, and- well...

-----

December 1989

The soft morning sunlight was seeping through the plane’s window right next to you. Joe’s head was resting on your arm, and you used your opposite hand to stroke his hair soothingly. He had one hand on his stomach, along with his green eyes closed and shut away from the world. The plane was flying steadily now, but your minds were anything but steady at the moment. There was so much to say, but no place or time to say it. It was almost as if you two were having a telepathic conversation; there was so much thinking between you both, yet nothing was being said.

“You alright, Joe?” the voice of a London guitarist broke your attention from the window. He’d strolled over to the seats where you and the man in question were sitting, and let his concern get the better of him.

There was far too much concern going around today, so Phil's question was rather unnecessary.

“Oh, he’s fine,” you answered sweetly, knowing that Joe didn’t want to answer, and also not wanting to give Phil any hint to your invisible nerves, “He’s just feeling rather sick is all.”

Phil sighed, “Ah, yeah, the turbulence wasn't the greatest.”

You decided to go along with Phil’s theory of why Joe wasn’t feeling well. After all, it was believable.

“Yeah, we haven’t been awake that long, either. You know how he can be in the morning. He’s just sick of the day, really,” you lightly joked. Today was not necessarily a good day for jokes. There was a deep, underlying sadness beneath the surface of everybody's tone no matter how much they joked around.

“Oh, so he’s got morning sickness, I see?” Phil joked along, trying to lighten the universally tense mood, “Well, congratulations on the pregnancy, Joe.”

Your heart jumped and you forced a chuckle at the statement. You felt Joe’s heart jump, too.

“Thanks, Phil,” Joe cracked a gentle smile for him as he walked away. You could feel how forced the smile was as Joe slowly reached out and squeezed your hand. He was definitely more worried than you.

“Shh, I know. I’m worried, too,” you whispered to him so quietly that you could barely hear yourself, “But we’ll deal with this later.”

~18 hours earlier~

You weaved your hands together with the utmost anxiety as you waited for Joe to get back from a small trip to the supermarket. As you waited, there was no stopping the racing thoughts in your mind. Once one thought appeared and rooted itself within you, it was impossible to keep it from rolling into a snowball of others. It was driving you absolutely mad on the inside. Keeping calm on the outside, however, came rather easily. It almost felt like second nature at the moment. Of course, you knew that was all going to change the second Joe got back.

Everything was going to change the second Joe got back.

When he did come back, you immediately stood up and went over to him, trying to be casual and lighthearted.

"Hey! How was the store?" came the greeting from you. Your voice was nearly on the verge of breaking from the tension of the whole situation.

"A fucking treat," he grumbled sarcastically, putting four bags down on the table, "The whole bloody place was packed, the service was piss poor, traffic on the way back, you name it."

You kissed him on the cheek for a few seconds in consolation, quickly making his small dimple appear as a result. Normally, it melted your heart to see him smile, but this time, it made it almost vibrate with worry. It hurt to see him happy now, since you knew it wouldn't last long.

He turned and put his hands on your waist, "I suppose it was worth it to get back to you, though."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, quickly pecked him on the lips, telling him, "You're too kind. Now let's see what you've looted up on-"

Desperate to distract both of you from each other, you turned to the grocery bags and started to pull the items out. You did it in a sped-up manner to keep your hands from shaking too visibly. You had no idea when to mention what had to be mentioned.

"I'll tell you what," Joe spoke up, his annoyance still audible in his voice, "The service down there was so fucking slow. Took me a half hour to get four bloody bags worth."

"I'll say you took a while," you impulsively decided to create a segue- any segue- that may get you closer to your fated subject. You blurted out "You’re late."

As he continued pulling out the groceries, he cocked an eyebrow, and asked without looking at you, "What do you mean I’m late?"

"Just, you're late, that's all," you shrugged, the anxiety overwhelming you more. It was getting close to the subject now.

"I'm not late," he chuckled, still not looking up or fully understanding you. You both often liked to joke and tease each other, so this wasn’t anything strange to him.

"No," you stated calmly, going completely motionless with fear, “But I am."

He didn't completely comprehend what you had said. He began to put away the groceries and asked you obliviously, "What do you mean you're late?" Late for what?"

You pressed on, remaining rooted to a motionless state and staring at him, "No, Joe... I’m late."

"You mean that this month you didn't get your-" he started off normally, but then paused as the penny dropped. He froze, and dropped the can he was holding. Your heart sank in your chest at his reaction. Now was the time to talk about it, and you could sense it wasn't going to be pleasant. Part of you began to think that this is how it might end for you two.

He turned around, looking almost mortified and whispered, "Oh my god... are you...?"

"I don't know..." you were shaking now, "I'm just assuming."

For a moment you both stood there, staring at each other, lost for words.

Another impulse suddenly arose within you, and you blurted out again with a wavering and worried voice, "I-I hope I'm not, Joe, and I know you don't want me to be, either, because now is not a good time for this to be happening! You’re at the peak of your career, and we’ve got the new album on the way, then you'll be on tour again- and-"

"Hey, hey, shh," Joe moved forward and put his hands on your arms, "Calm down... it's okay, it's okay. First of all, who ever said I didn't want this? You can't just assume that I wouldn't be okay with it... and I'm not mad- really, I swear! Second of all, this isn't set in stone yet. We'll have to find out if you are first, and if you are, we'll... then we'll make it work out somehow. Don’t think too much just yet; try to relax.”

You blew out a shaky exhale and muttered, “Yeah, okay...”

“Have you been sick?"

"No, but something just feels... off."

"How late are you?"

"About a week..."

"Have you been this late in the past, but gotten your period anyway?"

"Yes..."

"Then we don't know for sure," he kissed the top of your head, embracing you and reassuring, “So what if you're late? That doesn't have to mean anything! I'm worried, too, but we can't just jump to conclusions like this. I wouldn't even put the stakes at 50-50 right now. All this worrying is probably over nothing. You could just be overthinking."

You turned your head and attempted to look up at him to say, "But this is a child, Joe... if there's even a small possibility that this child exists, we've got to assume that it does... we can't just ignore it for too long."

"You've got a point, you've got a point, but just for a second, genuinely consider the possibility that you're not-" he didn't dare say the “p” word, "-you know..."

You sighed into his shoulder, fighting back against tears that wanted to fall, "Okay, okay, you could be right, but there's so much that might have to be done- we can't just put this off..."

"We can until we know for sure," he suggested, "If it's worrying you so much right now, then I'll run out to the corner store and pick up a test. We can sort this out once and for all. How long did you wanna wait before taking a test?"

"I don't know, I don't know," came the drawn out reply as a few tears spilled from you, "Maybe a day or two or three, but I'm just getting so worried that it might be true, I can't wait anymore."

"Okay, then you won't have to wait anymore," he tilted your chin up to give you a quick and thoughtful kiss, then wiped away your tears, "I'll run to the store quick and buy us a test. Is that okay?"

"Yes, please just do it. I'm sorry- you just got back from the store and-"

He laughed and squeezed you tighter, swaying with you in his arms, "Ah, don't worry about it; it's a necessary trip now."

"You're taking this a lot better than I thought you would."

"What'd you think I was gonna do? Leave you?" he chuckled lightheartedly, though he guessed exactly what you were thinking.

You faked a chuckle in reply, "Yeah, kinda... I had a lot of time to overthink everything."

"Well, would you leave me? Especially if I were in your shoes?"

It was your turn to squeeze him tighter (and laugh into his chest), "Joe, if you were in my shoes, I think we'd have a real problem."

"Oh, I know, I know- but apart from that- would you leave me?"

"Of course not..."

"Exactly. You wouldn't leave me, so I definitely won't leave you. You know we've always looked after each other, and I still plan on holding up my end of the bargain."

He kissed you again, longer this time, before softly assuring you, “I love you. Don't ever think that I’d abandon you to raise a child on your own, cos' it'll never ever be a possibility. I'll be here no matter what. Positive or negative."

***

Positive or negative, indeed, you told yourself as you wearily gazed out of the plane's window. You still weren't completely sure how to feel about the outcome of the previous day, but- as you told Joe before- you had to deal with it later. There were more pressing matters currently at hand. Your previous issue could wait for an extra day or two. The more serious problem that you all were on your way to currently needed the most attention. This particular problem also seemed to outline a theme for the past 24 hours; accidental life or accidental death.

~17 hours earlier~

You both sat on the bathroom floor in quiet anxiety. Your hands were joined in a world of worry. At the moment, it was impossible to tell who was more worried, since neither of you could bring yourselves to speak.

The longest two minutes of your lives were currently taking place. The test was sitting on the counter of the sink, and neither of you were counting down to when you could look at it again. Every now and then, a reassuring thought would come to mind that you were all worked up over nothing. After all, Joe was right; you barely had any evidence other than the fact that you were late, so you couldn't just assume the worst. On the other hand though, you couldn't help but feel that there was some impending doom about to come, almost like you felt it instinctively.

With you both being scared shitless at the moment (and not even trying to hide it), you sensed that deep down, both of you knew what the result was going to be. Neither of you wanted to admit it, though.

A few rooms away, the phone suddenly sounded off, shattering the tension and making you both jump. It was almost like a form of divine intervention to prevent you from thinking any more. Almost immediately, Joe lifted his hand away and quietly said that he'd answer it. He stood up and left, leaving you alone with a possibly huge revelation sitting on the counter a few feet away. However, that would no longer be your biggest concern, for you could easily overhear Joe talking on the phone.

"'Ello?" he answered before pausing and replying anxiously, "No, I really don't have a minute... I can't say, but I don't have time to chat. You alright, mate?”

There was an unnerving pause before you heard Joe ask, "Why?"

There was an even longer pause before he spoke again. Your heart was pounding more. That gut feeling that your lives were about to change for the worse grew enormously without warning. On top of that, you suddenly realized that it had been well over two minutes at this point. Your future awaited you now.

"Fuck... oh my god..." Joe's voice was a lot more quiet now, "...oh my god, is he...?"

Now, you began weaving your hands together, slowly growing more and more impatient and worried.

"Dammit," Joe said a little louder, "We'll we've gotta go, then. We've gotta go as soon as possible. What about Rick and Sav...? Alright, then. We'll meet you there tomorrow morning- I've really gotta go and tell Y/N right now. I'll call you in a bit. Yeah, alright... just try and calm down, mate- okay? See ya, then."

As soon as he hung up, you heard him rush back to the bathroom.

"Y/N, he huffed before he was even in the room, "Y/N, something's happened and we’ve gotta-“

He froze in the doorway upon seeing you now standing and completely covering the test in your hands.

"No," he moved forward and put a hand on yours, "Please don't look at it yet; something awful's happened and I don't know how much sudden news we can take at this point. Did you look at it?”

You shook you head, not breaking eye contact with him, "No, but now I'm too scared to take my hands off. What's happened?"

He came right out with it, "Steve's been found unconscious at a bar in Minneapolis. They took him to a hospital, he’s in intensive care and... and he’s pretty bad.”

Right then and there, you dropped the test in your hands with a gasp. You were speechless, but part of you couldn't help but ask, "Is- is he gonna make it?”

You suddenly saw tears in Joe's eyes when he answered, "I don't know... he won't die unless we knock some fucking sense into him! That was Phil who just called, and he sounded scared shitless..."

"W-well what are we gonna do? Is anyone going to see Steve?"

"We are. Tomorrow morning we're flying out with Phil, Mutt, Tony, and Peter."

"Wait, what about Rick and Sav?"

"They both can't make it on short notice. We're gonna have to give Steve a beatin’ over the head from them.”

Just like that, you forgot all about the test on the floor. Steve was dying, and that was enough to flood your mind. You wanted to cry, you wanted to hug Joe, you wanted to scream, and most of all, you wanted to see Steve and sob your brains out to him.

"He's never gonna get better, is he?" you quietly asked, not particularly looking for an answer. Joe shrugged and sighed, running his hands through his hair.

He coldly chuckled in a quiet voice, "Not unless we keep drilling it into his head that he's gonna kill himself!"

Hanging your head out of astonishment, you sat on the counter, realizing that this was the biggest blow to your lives since Rick’s accident.

At least, it would be until you saw the result of the test on the floor.

"Joe..." you whispered to him, staring down at your hands, "Should we look at the test? Should we wait until we get back?"

Joe did nothing more than stare at you, frowning nervously. He moved his own hands forward, placed them on top of yours, and took a deep breath.

“We’re only gonna be more worried if we wait... so we might as well settle things now.”

Joe slowly got on his knees, and felt on the floor for the test without looking at it. When he located it, he rose back to his feet, and brought the test forward. He kept it covered with all his fingers wrapped around it to conceal the verdict.

Blowing out a trembling breath, you looked at him as he did at you, and he gently unfolded his fingers from the test. You both simultaneously looked down to see the clearly marked result. In that second, you were fairly certain that life would never be the same.

In fact, you were positive.

***

“Now is literally the worst possible time to talk about this, Joe,” you whispered again so no one else on the plane could hear, “It can wait a day or two. We’ve got to worry about Steve first."

Joe nodded a little, agreeing with you, “Okay, I suppose it can wait.”

“Don't stress yourself out so much; it's literally making you sick. Besides, I’m the one who’s supposed to be sick,” you chuckled, “That’s not your job.”

“Oh shut up,” he laughed a little, “It really is the turbulence… and the fact that Steve’s… and you’re… and I’m surprised you’re not this overwhelmed.”

You sighed and turned your head towards the window, “Yeah... I’m really surprised, too. This is gonna be one hell of a story to tell this kid when they’ve grown up...”

“I feel sorry that their story had to start out like this,” Joe put another hand on top of your already joined hands with a guilty exhale, “With such bad timing...”

As you watched the illuminated clouds move on by the window of the plane, you couldn’t help but think that things truly would be okay at one point: like that maybe this wouldn’t be such bad timing after all. Things would all work out eventually. How far away that merciful checkpoint was, you’d never be able to guess.

***

Later that day, you found yourself sitting in a circle of people in a rather pleasant-looking and sunlit room. For such a nice day that it was, nothing about the day seemed to fit the mood the weather provided; the universe simply wouldn’t allow it. Now was the time for the serious matter you came for; you were desperately trying to help Steve.

“Steve, you’re scaring the shit out of us,” Phil read bluntly from his letter to his best friend, trying not to let soft emotion seep into his tone. He knew he needed to be stern, but caring towards him.

The whole time he spoke, you wanted to devote all of your attention to him and Steve, but soon found that you couldn't. The constant thought of your unborn child was first on your mind, and although you didn’t want that taking over your thoughts, it was beginning to eat you alive. You almost felt like you couldn't hold the secret back any longer, despite only knowing for a day. In any other circumstances, it would have been so much easier to keep it secret. Today, however, was the worst possible day, with the worst possible scenario.

Every now and then, Joe would look over at you to see how you were doing, and turn back to not be conspicuous to everyone else. You could practically sense his growing worry. Going on in this manner for so long was starting to make your own unstoppable thoughts bubble to the surface. You couldn't hold out for much longer, and was even starting to think outside the box about your while situation. Was being with child really a problem? Did it have to be a bad thing right now? Could you actually find a way to rip some positivity from it all and shed some light on this situation?

That's when it hit you.

When Phil was done his speech, some silent tears were shed by everyone in the circle (including Steve). Near silence commenced afterwards (which only reminded you that there was no distraction from your thoughts now). You reached out to Joe slowly, and took his hand in a tight grip without looking at him. While you felt his eyes on you, you didn't dare look at him.

"Has anyone else got something to say to add onto that?" Peter softly asked, looking around the circle. Your heart began to pound; an opening for you was coming.

Phil slowly began to comment, looking at his feet, "Well, there's nothing I can say to get the point across any more. We can beg and plead all we want but the point still stands, Steve. I know you're not a fan of us guilt tripping you to hell- but we don't want to beat you up; that’s not what we came here to do. We love you, mate... so it doesn't matter whether or not we guilt trip you by saying we're worried sick, or- or..."

"I'm pregnant," you stated simply, closing your eyes and squeezing Joe's hand. While you didn't see it, you felt Joe inhale and look at you instinctively. For the single day that you were aware of your condition, you and Joe had feared the "p" word, and avoided using it at all costs.

Phil didn't entirely comprehend what you said, and kept talking on, "Exactly, even if we said that-"

"No-" you sat up in your seat and opened your eyes, now shaking again, "I mean... I'm pregnant."

You looked over at Joe, who seemed tired, yet understanding. Your eyes went down to his hand as you corrected yourself, "We're pregnant."

All eyes were on you now, but no one had any inclination to speak for a moment.

“Are you serious?” Mutt broke the silence in astonishment, “You're fucking with us right now, aren't you?"

“She’s not,” Joe shook his head, still fixing his loving eyes on you.

Steve looked at Phil and stated coldly, "I thought you said you guys weren't gonna make stuff up to guilt trip me."

"Does it look like I'm making this up?!" you snapped at him, anxious and shameful tears brimming your eyes. You looked around at everyone, landing your eyes on Steve.

"So you're serious?” he asked softly, frowning as he flicked off ashes from his cigarette, “You really are pregnant?”

You nodded, trying to hold yourself together.

“When did you find out?” Peter inquired gently, coming off as the most calm member of the group.

Your voice began to break as you told him with a sad chuckle, “Yesterday... we were waiting for the result of the test right when you called, Phil...”

Phil's eyes lit up at your statement, and he apologized, "Oh- fucking hell... Joe... you even said you didn't have time to talk... and what I said on the plane this morning- must've only made things worse... guys, I'm so sor-"

"That wasn't your fault, mate," Joe smiled sadly, "There's no way you could've known."

"It was just bad timing," you stared at Joe's hand in yours, feeling him shaking as well.

No one spoke for a while after that; no one could think of the right thing to say. It seems you both had scared them all into silence (even more than Steve had). Everyone in the circle couldn't speak because they no longer saw you and Joe the same way. A minute ago, you were still Y/N and Joe. Now, you were mum and dad. The others didn't know how to speak to those strange new people just yet.

“Well, congratulations, for one thing,” Tony broke the silence with a soft smile. A few muffled chuckles and agreements went around the circle, but it wasn’t what you or Joe wanted to hear.

“No, no, that’s not the point,” you threw your hands out in frustration, “We never even planned on telling anyone today! Don’t you guys see how suddenly life can come and go? Twenty-four hours ago Joe and I didn’t even have a child, and now we do. Twenty-four hours ago, we didn’t even think that there was a possibility of you dying-“ you pointed at Steve, giving him your own furious input, “-and now there is. It’s just all so surreal, but no matter how bad the timing of your life is, there’s always time to fight for survival. And that's exactly what we need to get a grip on right now.”

Steve put out his cigarette at this point, looking as if he were genuinely listening to you now more than ever.

“And I guess timing was a real bitch to us today,” you put a hand on your abdomen for the first time since you found out, addressing Steve directly, “But I’d say now you’ve got a little bit more to fight for. Just think about this whole situation; it’s not exactly a tale to be proud of. If this story keeps getting worse, and this is how it ends for you- I don’t want that to be the story of Uncle Steve. I want our child to be born into a world where you're thriving- where they... where they actually have an Uncle Steve."

You had hit a nerve (or a soft spot, to say the least). Before you even realized exactly what you had said, everyone in the circle was crying, including you and Steve. Joe looked at you with his face smothered in tears, but smiling, no less.

The seven of you remained like that for a minute or two, absorbing what had really hit everyone hard, and quietly crying your brains out.

Steve didn’t raise his head to ask you with heartfelt astonishment, “...Uncle Steve, really?”

“C’mere, you fucking idiot,” you sprang to your feet at one point and rushed over to him, taking him in your arms as he stood to take you in his without the slightest bit of hesitation.

“I love you so much, Steve,” you sobbed into his chest, “And I will always care about you. You mean so much to me, and I know you’ll mean so much to the baby, too.”

One by one, everyone else in the circle joined in the hug, each of them murmuring their love to Steve in their own affectionate way. Once you were all broken up, Joe embraced you himself and kissed you over and over again.

“Hey, back off from her,” Mutt teased, “Haven’t you done enough?”

“I still can’t believe you knocked her up,” Phil sighed with happy disbelief, “That’s something we only ever joked about!”

“Yeah well, it doesn’t have to be seen as a joke anymore,” Joe put his hands on your hips and smiled, tearing up all over again, “I’m gonna be a dad...!”

Peter chimed in, “Now that’s a bit scary.”

“It’s not scary,” you chuckled, stroking the back of Joe’s head, “It’s exciting! Timing is a bitch... but I think I’m ready for anything time can throw at me, now.”

Reaching that point of acceptance was a day-long journey that you thought would never have a final destination. All was nearly well in that moment where you and Joe hugged with a seemingly-changed Steve standing by. Right then and there, the future seemed bright for everyone; including your unborn child. An eternity went by in those two days you were gone for, and even though the next day you found out that your test result was a false positive, and Steve only lived for about another year, that false positive seemed to be just what you all needed to keep the world at bay.

The end

[zirkkun]

Like everyone else, i must thank you for this amazing game. It is, without a doubt, one of the best undertale fan games. Somethings:

1. It is my headcannon that the True Passion Route Is The Official Undertale Ending. It just feels like an ideal Ending for undertale, and it feels like undertale. It is a undertale love letter meets the official undertale.

2. Passion, The Major Theme Of Your Game, Is Just Perfect For Undertale Fangame.

2.1/3. The Theme Of Passion Was Very Special To Me. You see, I am on the autism spectrum, and my specific interest is undertale. So, I have a healthy but Strong Passion For Undertale. Seeing a Game Like This Is Very Fullfiling.

3. I already said that I love your art in previous Asks, but you surpassed yourself in this game. From the background, atmosphere, to The characters.

4. The writing is superb, just beautiful and heartfelt.

5. I must ask, If you don't want this ask public, it's okay. But if it is because i mentioned my autism, I must say that, unless you feel uncomfortable, it's okay to post. I am proud to boast my autism.

6. You actually made me empathize with Flowey. He Actually Acts Like Us, And With The Reason of not feeling Alone and wanting to connect with this world, and not wanting to leave this world.

7. I was going to choose Asgore as Final Call, But Azzy Stole The Spot.

8. Love and Admire All Your Works. No Pressure though, Just sending positive vibes in this paragraph.

Again, thank you for everything, And Stay Safe :)

Aaaaaa this is all so nice??? fdbhsafj I can’t come up with a singular paragraph response cause I just wanna say so much, so I’m going to respond to each of these ;w;

1 & 2 - I’m really glad you think so!! I really wanted to try and capture all of the passion I felt playing the game with that route’s ending -- and the game as a whole. It’s funny you call it a love letter, because in my head, Act to Flirt has always been an apology letter for how horrifically I thought of and treated this game when it came out purely due to how much it was shoved down my throat. But after getting a chance to play it, I honestly feel nothing but silly for putting it down so much.

But, with the whole theme of “Determination” being what guides you in Undertale, I always interpretted that to be like, how the reason you do something in video games isn’t because you’re necessarily acting as you would irl. It’s because, since you have no risk of hurting yourself or anyone else actually, it’s an open space, letting you act however you want with no real-life consequence. But when the game takes this for a spin and makes you step back to really bring the game to life and put it in a perspective... it really makes you wonder a lot about your choices more so than you would in any other game.

So, this being a “sequel,” based on timeline events; to Undertale, “Passion” is supposed to encapsule the care and feelings the player still has after they played the game. My main thought process when coming up with this was to sort of “market” the game at the beginning similarly to how Determination was merely shown as a power to you -- it’s just a silly, fun game where you can do whatever you please, directed at those who still feel very close to Undertale and its characters and are constantly looking for new content about it. It’s impossible to cover the bases for every player, and yet the majority of the game is designed around a specific type of player. It’s... risky from a game design standpoint, for sure lol. I genuinely wasn’t sure if anyone would play the game at all. But I’m really glad to see it’s resonated with you so well ;w;

3 & 4 - I’m so glad you think so 😭 this really means a lot aaaa thank you so much;;

I always worry I get a bit too repetitive or weirdly paced sometimes with my writing, since I write almost purely stream-of-consciousness while putting myself directly into the emotions the character I’m writing would be feeling. I struggle writing any other way, aha;;

5 (and 2 1/3 lol) - While I don’t have autism, I do have ADHD and have also always been between various hyperfixations my whole life. I’ve actually been measuring time based on them since I was a kid, and if I didn’t have one at the time of an event, I don’t remember it at all 😅 Fictional characters have always been a very important thing for me to lean on in life -- since, at many points, I didn’t have anybody else to go to. I’ve always wanted to make something with characters that have relatable problems to those learning about them so people can have a something to lean on with a problem they might otherwise feel alone on. And, well, one “problem” that I don’t think I’ve ever really had the chance to write about before is being significantly connected to fictional characters that you can’t meet in real life. With Undertale having the whole concept of “resets” being acknowledged in one form or another by a lot of the characters, and the cast being so wonderfully designed and written already; it made UT an obvious choice for being able to discuss that. It definitely made Sans’s route really fun to write... and I actually started crying a little writing his ending fdbshafjb i’m a mess LMAO

6 & 7 - I’m really glad, honestly!!! I didn’t like Flowey when I first played Undertale (and actually killed him my first playthrough... then again I killed a lot my first playthrough cause I didn’t realize it was optional 😅😅), but after learning more about him, Asriel, and Chara, I really grew to like him! He’s one of my favorite characters now, actually. The moment Asriel was able to start talking about his struggles, I understood him almost instantaneously just because I relate to a lot that he deals with. Asriel’s ending is actually tied for Papyrus’s as my favorite (of the ones I wrote! @alch3mic wrote Undyne’s, Toriel’s, Asgore’s, and Alphys’s ^^), too. So I’m really glad how I wrote him made you like him more as a character ;w;♥

annnnnnnd for 8....... you’re too nice, thank you so much fbdshafb I’m glad you like my works so much!! I really do my best to make things that can really resonate with people, so I’m always both astounded and happy to hear when someone’s been impacted by what I’ve made ;w;/

[bisluthq]

One thing that I think you’re missing from the Lover “invisible muse” theory is that Lover is the only album she’s ever written about someone while she was dating them, without having any kind of shield/protection.

Someone wrote a very smart thread on Twitter when Lover came out, about how it’s difficult to write and release songs about someone you’re coming home to every night. It’s one thing to write ATW, Style, IWYW, Dear John, SBT, I Almost Do... about past relationships and then say “I never name names!” (even though everybody knows - or suspects - who you’re singing about); it’s another thing to write songs about the person you’re currently dating and you want to have a successful relationship with. Everybody knows (or thinks) that she’s singing about Joe. And sure, maybe she’s not (we’re not in her mind), but the point is that everyone is gonna automatically assume that everything she sings is about him. And she sure as hell didn’t t help her case when she said that her music is about her life (something that she was still doing during the Lover era, let’s not forget that).

Which is why that Twitter thread said that in Lover the perspective is strongly hers. We hear very few details about Joe, it’s more about what she feels for him, and that’s because she needs to come back to him at night. That’s a person - and a relationship - she treats with care (per her words): she’s not gonna air his dirty laundry (or even go into excessive praise of him) in public. If she did that, the relationship would probably become unmanageable.

Why was she able to go more in depth with rep and folklore/evermore? Because she had a shield. With rep it was the persona she constructed, and with folklore/evermore it’s the narrative that she isn’t writing solely about herself. The latter has always been true, but now she’s officially saying it out loud and she’s making sure that everybody knows it (look at the SNL skit...), which means that she’s more comfortable singing about him/their relationship more in depth: because she has the shield of “this is fiction” protecting her.

Lover is the only album she’s ever written about someone while being with that someone and without having any kind of protection. In rep she’s singing from another persona for half of the album, and in the other half she’s only ever singing about cute little stuff related to him. Plus she wrote almost all the songs on rep BEFORE news broke that they were dating. On folklore and evermore the EXPLICITLY autobiographical songs are VERY much about her/about cute stuff (lss, invisible string...). Even when they’re about something deeper, they’re about how HER problems influence the relationship (peace). The songs where she really sings about their problems from his point of view are all fictional (like cowboy like me).

She’s simply protecting her own mental health, their relationship and probably also him. With her last two albums she found a very balanced way to protect her own mental health and her relationship, with Lover she was still navigating how to do that, imo.

And anyway, Cornelia Street, Paper Rings, False God, Afterglow (and Cruel Summer, but I know you don’t think it’s about him) are all VERY detailed and personal. London Boy is not meant to be taken seriously, but it still has cute little details about their relationship (like the whole “so please show me Hackney, doesn’t have to be Louis V up on Bond Street” which mimics KOMH). Daylight, MA&THP and ME! are meant to be from her perspective from the very beginning. The only songs that really strike me as “distant” and “generic” are ITHK and everything in Lover apart from the bridge. But she wanted the latter to be a wedding song: that’s why she made the verses and the chorus generic enough so that everybody could relate to them in a wedding dance, and then she wrote an incredibly autobiographical bridge to show that the song is still hers. And about ITHK she said “Basically, I was playing around with the idea of quiet confidence. There's something so sick about quiet confidence; somebody who, they're not arrogant, they're not cocky, like, that's obnoxious. But, there are certain people who just walk in and they don't need to be arrogant because there's something beaming from within them that they probably aren't even in control of. And when you meet a person like this, you're like, 'Why do I want to walk over there and talk to that person?' I can't explain it, but I think it's this quality. It can be a really shy person, it's not like you gotta be loud. Some people just seem like they know who they are, they don't need to brag about it” and that SCREAMS Joe, so I think she very much had him in mind when writing the song.

Fair points and very eloquently argued!

One thing I feel strongly about lol because I’m such a simp for that song (like I know she meant for Lover to be a wedding song but this is probs gonna be mine if my future spouse agrees lol): I don’t think she sings about problems from his POV in CLM. I think that’s a very romantic song but obvi fictionalized. I think the only real deep dive we’ve had on how both parties feel or have felt is CI and maybe parts of evermore and I think that’s because they’re co-written I think he contributed his own ideas and feelings and thoughts.

[dellyduck]

Donald considers Huey more as a dad that an uncle, doesn't he? Before Dewey's return, they talked about it?, or Donald "accidentally" called Huey Dad? Or he stated as a toddler that no matter what they said Huey was his parent? (He's stubborn, it's Donald) Della disagrees bc she already has a father, and that's Dewey even when they don't know him? I just read about Uncle's Day and I thought about him wanting to do a Father's Day card whoops.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for this ask!! I love to brainstorm about this kind of thing! *-*

The “are you my father or my uncle, and how should I call you” subject, totally, surely, 100% was discussed far before Dewey’s return. Actually, I dare to say that the first time this subject came up was when the twins were eleven months old.

Between the two of them, Della was the first to speak. Her first word was directed to Huey, and it was “Dada”. I don’t think I can describe right now how hear that made Huey both happy and sad. He could just sob and hug Della for minutes long (and Donald, because he had started crying, wanting hugs too). After a while, he knew what he had to do and was prepared to do so.

Staring at his niece’s innocent eyes, Huey corrected.

“No, Delly, it’s uncle. Un-cle.”

(I’m sorry for the cut, but it got so long! ^^” I really love talking about things like this)

The kids did learn. When they started talking for real, it was “Unca Huey” here, “Unca Huey” there, “Unca Huey” everywhere.

Della seemed to have learned the lesson well enough, to the point of coming at Huey as a four-year-old to ask where her Daddy was. Donald, by other hand, came at him too as a four-year-old, not with a question but with a drawing he had made for him, as a father’s day gift.

“Donnie... it’s very pretty and I really love it, but... You know today is Father’s day and I’m your Uncle, right?”

Donald then asked him why he’s his Uncle if he treats him and Della as other parents treat their children on streer and at the park. Huey tried to explain the best he could, even daring to take an old picture of him, Dewey and Louie; he wasn’t his father because Dewey was.

But Donald just shook his head, “I don’t know him. You’re here, you’re our dad, Unca Huey,” and hugged him.

Huey didn’t have the heart to contradict him.

When dinner time came, though, Huey thought he should’ve tried harder.

“Dad, I wanna more water, please,” Donald suddenly said, startling both his Uncle and sister.

“Dad?” Della felt hopeful and nervous at the same time, looking around. “Where’s Dad?”

Oh my, as soon as Donald said he was talking about Huey, one of the biggest fights yet broke down between the twins.

Huey had to raise his voice and physically separate them. After fifteen minutes grounded on a corner of the house each, Donald and Della could come back to the table, where their Uncle was waiting, the most prepared he could be to the conversation they needed to have.

It was stated that there was nothing wrong about Donald feeling like Huey was his Dad (”Can you keep calling me uncle, though? For me?” “...Ok, Unca Huey”); just like there was nothing wrong about Della wanting to still love their biological Dad (”No, Delly, I don’t think you love me less because of that”)

That wasn’t the last time the subject was touched. It’s mentioned at least once a year on Father’s day, but they soon found a dynamic that worked for them. Making a card each and signing it with “To the best Uncle in the world”.

And then it’s when we get to Uncle’s day. I still don’t know if they’ll go by some official date or create one themselves (this idea’s pretty new, I literally came up with it today), but while Father’s day is just a card day, Uncle’s day is the day they officially appreciate and do stuff for Huey - aka the breakfast in bed and other things.

As he grows up, Donald honastly doesn’t care about the day or how it’s called anymore. He gets to celebrate the love he and his sister share for Huey’s figure in their lives? It’s good enough

[sondepoch]

Day 6

10 Days (Jumin Han x Reader)

You didn't expect to find yourself locked in an engagement to Chairman Han, but with your own mother forcing you into it, you have no way of denying her. But as time continues and things change, you begin to develop affections for your fiance's son: Jumin Han. But the sad truth is that there's nothing either of you can do to stop the marriage, and you only have these 10 days before your future becomes reality. 10 days with Jumin Han.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | ✔

MASTERLIST

BREAKING NEWS: C&R Chairman Han to wed BC-Sonic's Corporate Heir?!

After a tip from an anonymous source, it has been newly confirmed that corporate heir (F/N) (L/N) has is engaged to C&R's Chairman Han, and has been for the past eight months! Looking through recent media footage, several sources have discovered multiple pictures and instances of these business lovebirds on various romantic getaways in these past few months. There has been a noted increase in sightings over the past few days of the lovers as they prepared for what we just learned is their approaching wedding date—a short four days from today!

"They wanted the wedding to be a private affair," A reliable source, wishing to remain anonymous, has informed us. "They were worried that if the media caught wind of their plans, then their relationship would suddenly be under scrutiny. But now that the date of the official wedding is so close, no one can keep the surprise any longer!"

The wedding is currently set to be in a private location, the two business typhoons wishing to keep the ceremony as intimate and secretive as their discreet relationship thus far; but now that this news has reached the media world, every outlet in Korea is abuzz with excitement for their future!

There is currently an interview scheduled with Chairman Han on the 12th, just after the wedding. Tune in to this outlet channel to watch the interview LIVE as he reveals all the exciting details of the relationship he's managed to keep secret for so long and stay tuned for a followup article to reveal all the juicy details!

With the number of times you've reread this article, you should be able to recite the whole thing from memory, but your mind simply cannot. You can't process it. Your brain can't begin to comprehend the utter, ridiculous possibility that this is real.

You drop the phone Jumin had handed to you on the table, leaning back in your chair. For once, he doesn't say anything and leaves your mind to process what you just read.

They got so many details wrong, you think. It's the media, shady and unreliable, so the severe drought of truth in the article was rather unsurprising. But the sheer confidence at which the information was delivered made even the lies seem convincing.

Eight months. They said I've been with Chairman Han for eight months.

If not for the severity of the situation, you would scoff at that fact alone. The two of you have been engaged less than eight days, and the 'multiple' pictures showing the two of you together weren't linked anywhere in the article, an obvious nod to the fact that you two had yet to even meet each other during that time.

But the biggest lie is even more troubling.

The words still bounce around in your mind, numb and daunting. Wedding date. Approaching.

You swallow.

Four days from today.

You close your eyes, shutting them before any tears can form and escape. You don't need Jumin to see you cry again.

But the man can practically read your mind.

"(Y/N)," He murmurs, placing a comforting hand over your trembling one. "Don't..."

But even Jumin can't complete the sentence.

Don't what?

This article isn't the only one popping up on headlines today. There are at least a dozen other articles, all quoting the same anonymous source, and you're quite confident that, if you turn on the television, you'll see features talking about your love life there, too.

The article said it.

All of Korea is abuzz.

And there are only a few people in this world who have the power to do such a thing.

You clench your jaw. Anonymous source. After meeting with the woman just yesterday, what other person can this mystery person be?

"Why would my mother leak these details to the public?" You ask, voice breaking in the middle.

Jumin knows the answer.

He also knows that you know the answer.

But you want him, you need him, to lie to you. To tell you that maybe it isn't true. That you aren't going to be marrying Chairman Han in four days. That your mother didn't inform the media as a cruel Checkmate against you, tying you down to the future that the world now expects of you.

Jumin is quiet.

You clench your fists, too horrified by the situation presented in front of you to even relax as the man squeezes your hand tenderly. You close your eyes, trying to think and find a way out of this situation.

And ridiculous as it seems, there's only one thing you can think of.

Something stupid.

Something you should have done a long time ago.

Pulling yourself out of Jumin's arms, you force yourself into a standing position, hoping that the assertive pose will give you the courage you need as you dial Chairman Han's number. The moment he picks up, you don't even give him the chance to bid you his usual "Hello darling," cutting straight to the point.

You take a deep breath.

"I don't love you."

***

Somewhere, in the distance, your father watches the scene playing out before him in the afterlife. Heaven is supposed to be a place of joy, he's been told, but ever since arriving here, he has only been brought misery at seeing all the paint that befell you after his death.

A tear slides down his cheek.

He's so proud of you for having the courage to tell your betrothed the truth: of your unwillingness in this godforsaken marriage.

But then another tear slides down, and another, and the man is quietly sobbing as he continues to watch the scene before him.

It's too late for you, he knows.

It's too late.

***

"I know, my darling."

Your eyes widen at Chairman Han's words, turning to Jumin in shock. The man seems just as surprised as you are at the words, though on his face, confusion overrides everything else. You can hear the gears turning in his head as he thinks: his father knows? This can't be happening, right? This can't.

"But in time, you will come to appreciate me as much as I do you." Chairman Han continues. "There's no other solution. Your mother sees it as much as I do, and while it will be difficult at first, things will definitely sort out. You will be happy in the end, my child. Truly."

Silence.

You know that Chairman Han is waiting for a response from you, but you can't think of anything to say. He knows you don't love him, and he still intends on continuing with the engagement?

In your state of shock, Jumin takes over.

"Father, what is the meaning of this?" His voice is controlled, but there's no mistaking the raw fury that lurks in between every word. "Surely you do not intend on marrying a girl who is unwilling?"

"She may not wish it now, but in time she will see that this is the best thing for her," Comes the Chairman's response, loud and clear. "If anything, Jumin, you should be the one to understand my situation here. You know of the...issues C&R has been facing, the very reason why I'm in international waters right now!"

"That?" Jumin's nostrils flare, and your ears perk up. C&R is facing issues? You knew that Chairman Han had left because of something serious, but what could be so ridiculous that the only solution he sees is marriage?

"As an independent company, C&R's stock will drop five days from now when the press statement and the details of this data breach get released. We need as much positive PR as we can get right now—this is to benefit your future, my son."

And then, it clicks.

Everything.

Your mother, she seeks to torment you. To return to you all the pain that you caused her when your father protected you from a drunk driver and lost his life. That's why she's so on-board with this situation.

On the other hand, you'd thought that Chairman Han wanted to marry you because he had taken an actual liking to you, and perhaps he had. In the beginning.

Now, it's obvious.

It's not a marriage Chairman Han seeks.

It's the cushion that the marriage will provide.

Marrying you, to him, will be a safety net.

Linking BC-Sonic and C&R will automatically ensure that his company doesn't go under, no matter how large the scandal caused by the data breach C&R suffered. Moreover, the current benefits that both BC-Sonic and C&R are facing are immense, the amount of media coverage going into investigating the details of your supposed "love life" only further advertising both companies and raising their value.

The rise caused by the media hype around your two companies will offset any losses that C&R takes when the public learns of this data breach, and the empire that Chairman Han has worked so hard to build will be safe.

And on top of that, he gets a pretty and young wife out of it.

"Father, you cannot be serious." Jumin looks terrifying now, pure wrath dripping into his every word. You wish that Chairman Han could be here now and see his son in front of him, see the distress that he is causing. "Do not marry (Y/N) for the sake of your business."

"Our business, Jumin."

"I would rather have no company to inherit than to inherit a company that was saved through you ruining an innocent girl's life."

"Goodness, Jumin! I am not ruining her life," Chairman Han defends. "She may not love me today, but she definitely will in the future. You know I will treat her well. I'm telling the truth."

And angry as Jumin is, you're shocked to find that even he does not contest that statement—though you're not sure if that's because it's the truth or because the man's judgment is being shrouded by the fact that he's dealing with his own father.

"Father, if it is the PR that you seek..." Jumin's voice wavers uncharacteristically, his tone desperate. "Please let her marry me instead. It will have the same benefits you seek."

You know you should pretend to be surprised, but you're too tired to put up an act. These past six days have shown you an entirely new world with Jumin, a world that you never want to leave.

You love him. And you know he feels the same way.

No doubt, you adore the idea of spending the rest of your life with him.

"You love her?" Chairman Han asks.

"Yes." Jumin doesn't hesitate. His father, however, does.

It's a long time before the man's response finally comes, but the weight of his words seems to sink your entire world. "I'm sorry, my son. Your hand in marriage is to be saved for separate business pursuits, and the public already knows about the two of us, and..."

You tune out the rest of Chairman Han's words, only aware of the fact that, other than Jumin, no one is on your side.

And now that Chairman Han has made his priorities clear, nothing can save you from your future.

"Please, put her back on the phone. This wedding will do no harm to any of us—it simply quickens things. (Y/N) and I were to marry from the very start, and we're going to be doing just that."

Jumin bites his lip, internal conflict glowing darkly in his grey eyes.

You can see his turmoil over having to accept his father's words or fight against them. Your heart softens. Just as weak as you are in front of your own mother, Jumin seems to harbor the same soft spot for his father.

You sigh.

Jumin has done so much for you.

It's time for you to accept that this is beyond your hands.

Gently, you take the phone from him. "Fine," You murmur into the microphone. You keep the words coming steadily, not giving Chairman Han a single chance to interrupt you. "I will marry you in four days. Send me the details over text, and please have all arrangements ready. Do not call me until then, do not contact me until then. Say what you will to the media—I'll marry you. But, Chairman Han, I do not love you."

You hang up the call, somewhat shocked that you even had to courage to say those words. They were so bold. So unnaturally bold, coming from you.

Then again, nothing about this situation is natural.

Closing your eyes, you slink back into your seat.

So much has changed over the course of these past few days.

Too much.

Just yesterday, when your mother had left the apartment, you'd been so willing. You'd truly accepted your fate. Resigned yourself to the fact that your life would be spent with the Chairman, as your mother wished.

You knew that you would have to marry Chairman Han.

But now, things are happening too quickly.

And...

"I don't want to marry him, Jumin." Your voice is small as you say the words. "I don't want him."

I want you.

"I know," Jumin murmurs. For once, he doesn't fight back or try to offer you any way out of the situation, now that he, too, knows how futile it is.

Fighting against one parent was one thing, but for both to be in on it?

Nothing could have prepared him for this, just as nothing could have prepared you.

"We have three days," You murmur quietly to Jumin. It's a silent proposition.

Three days until the day of your marriage, three days for the two of you to bask in what you both recognize as newfound love. Why, six days have already been wasted—you don't want to sacrifice even a minute.

Jumin turns to you, eyes focused. "I'll take these days off, then." He comes close to you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You do want this, correct?"

You nod your head.

You don't just want this. You need it.

And then Jumin's lips are on yours, as tender and delicate as the very first time you'd kissed.

You kiss back with a strange sense of solemnity, noting how this kiss is different from the previous ones. It's sad, the tear stains on your cheek moistening Jumin's own face. It's pained, with the knowledge that the two of you won't have the rest of your lives to continue kissing and loving each other. It's yearning, yearning for more of each other and more time to appreciate each other.

But most of all: it's helpless.

Because at last, the two of you have come to terms with the truth: you're soon going to be sealed away in marriage to another, and Jumin will meet a similar fate.

You can't belong to each other.

But, perhaps, for these next few days, you can forget that truth.

You gasp lightly as Jumin wraps his arms around your waist, murmuring the word "Jump" huskily into your mouth. You don't waste a moment in complying and wrapping your legs around the man as he walks you to his room, pressing you against the wall. He keeps you pinned upright with his body, kisses trailing lower and lower until his mouth is settled over a familiar spot over your neck.

He sucks.

Your moan is breathless as it leaves your lips.

Jumin continues, slowly pulling articles of clothing off of you until you're entirely naked for him, only your underwear separating him from unleashing all his lust upon you. His eyes are hungry, starved for contact and starved for you as he gazes down upon your exposed form.

You can't belong to Jumin.

But for these next few days, that doesn't matter. For these next few days, you're his, and he's yours.

And as he tosses you onto the bed, crawling on top of you to continue leaving love marks all over your body, you can already sense that he plans on showing you all the love and lust and passion and happiness of your would-be life together in the short time you have remaining.

So with thoughts of Chairman Han and your mother pushed far to the back of your mind, you yank Jumin by his tie and pull his lips back onto yours, savoring the contact.

For these next three days, nothing will be able to pull you from him.

Nothing.

MASTERLIST

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 |  ✔

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: i havent seen my best friend in over a month and i hate it

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Next Update: 5/06/20

I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.