#that reason being that making these eyes line up correctly is a damn pain lol

[jojaydoodles]

My imitator powers have been activated, I'm back working on my doujin.

--- ko-fi // redbubble

#there's only one queen #I have a sneaking suspicion that all the characters out there with this face-covering bangs have them for one reason only #that reason being that making these eyes line up correctly is a damn pain lol #manga #art #digital art #fma #fma fanart #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #myart:fanart #fma brotherhood #anime #fma olivier #olivier mira armstrong #fma doujinshi #fma fanfiction

[sweetestlamb]

Temptation

Summary: Vincenzo is feeling parched.

Author's note: These two have been living in my mind rent free lately, I'm just shallow and they look so damn good together and when you add the chemistry, well I'm a goner. Just a little drabble based on today's episode, I'm taking a break from BMTL this weekend because it's going to be another 10k probably and it's the first weekend I'm off with my bf so I promised not to ignore him to write all day lol. Update soon though!

Bon appetit!

Wispy dark lashes flutter just above her high cheekbones as she awaits the blow, her pretty face scrunched up in anticipation as a minor twitch in her lip distracts him.

That's been happening far too often lately, more than he'd care to admit. It was easier when she was blindly following Babel and refused to see the insidious truth about the morally bankrupt company, it was easier to pacify his attraction when she was the bad guy. Not that he was the right candidate to judge, he'd done notifiable heinous things in his life. Her father had been the first person to look at him like he was worth something, like the evil that lurked under his skin could be used for something good.

But her eyes had been opened, in the end she had chosen her father. If only he'd been here to see it.

That decision unhinges the small grapple he has on his control, he finds himself looking at her all the time cataloging the many emotions that distort that expressive face. She's like a living caricature and instead of finding that off-putting he's intrigued and mesmerized. Constantly battling with his lips that won't stop rising in her presence, he's not someone who smiles lightly. Has never had much of a reason to.

Until now.

"What are you waiting for? Just do it." She whines impatiently, squirming side to side and pursing her full lips.

That small move captures all his attention, eyes locked on the rosy pink skin. Instinctively he steps forward until he can feel her body heat, her face is even more captivating up close. She was beautiful, that wasn't hard to admit he was a man after all and his eyes were functional. It was.... everything else that he couldn't admit, not even to himself.

Just do it.

If only she knew what those words did to him, he felt as if he was lit in flames by his own lighter; burning up just from his prolonged vicinity to the loud lawyer. She was being her usual brazen self but she had no idea, not the slightest inkling of what exactly he wanted to do to her. It usually ended in passionate screams in his dreams. Her wild abandon was a thing of beauty, he didn't even mind the mess on his silk sheets because his mind supplied such vivid imaginings.

Staring down at her he wonders how she would taste, perhaps like the spicy noodles she was so fond of or maybe something sweeter and forbidden, once you peeled back the many layers you would discover something so delicious it was addicting. She would be his ambrosia.

"Come on, you're killing me! What's taking so long?" She grumbles now pouting, plush bottom lip jutting out enticingly and his finger hovers in front of her forehead but he can't move, can't bring himself to hurt her no matter how insignificant the hit. Somehow this woman has weaved a web around him, he feels like a fly caught in a spider's deadly but beautiful trap.

What's wrong with me?

There must be indeed something wrong with him because he feels his hand unfurling and lowering until he's nearly cupping her jaw, the delicate point barely above his hand. He's so tempted. Taking another step forward he lifts his second hand, curling around the dip of her lower back. She's so petite despite her loud bark, her entire body could fit easily in his hand.

He wants to lower his hand, grab her face and her waist and.... And what? What is he thinking? This is not why he came to Korea. He wasn't supposed to get involved more than he needed to and he knows no good can come of this, there's only one outcome for men who are lured by seductive sirens. He has to ignore her song no matter how much his body aches when he's with her. Woman have never been elusive in his line of work, gorgeous Italian women who opened up for him easily, surrendering under his capable hands. They were nothing but a good time, a perfunctory scratching of an itch. But, Cha-young he wants to wreck her, take her apart piece by piece until she's putty in his hands.

"What are you doing?" She says sounding amused and he lifts his eyes to find her twinkling ones already on his face. She looks at the twin hands hovering above her body with a raised brow, face now turned into the hand adjacent to her cheek.

"Do you want to change the specifics of our deal?" She teases darkly and he gulps, finally lowering his hands but twisting them around his back to prevent himself from making a huge mistake.

"No." He lies, trying to douse the fire that is blazing in his blood.

"Aishhh. You're such a bad liar." She huffs, nose crinkled up in disbelief and he hates the way his heart smarts his lips twitching to form a smile. He feels so warm and he doesn't know what any of it means.

"Come here." She doesn't give him an opportunity to disobey before reaching out to grab his tie, her hands wrapped around the luxurious material and with a sharp tug he's pulled into her, their bodies colliding and everything feels right.

"Stop." He whispers throat feeling raw, his voice comes out rougher than he intended. His eyes widen at the red flush that it yields, he's not the only one affected it seems.

"You don't want to flick me," she states with certainty, eyes searching his face as she tightens her hold on his tie his neck strains under the slight pressure, leaning down to lessen the tension. Too late he releases how much closer that brings their faces, she's barely an inch away from him now her soft puffs of breath landing directly on his face. "What do you want to do to me instead, Mr. Cassano?" She boldly finishes her statement, dark eyes ping ponging between his lips and his eyes.

Mentally berating himself for his weakness he suddenly grabs her waist, his arm circumvents the entire circumference with room to spare. She gasps in surprise but doesn't look scared, rather she looks curious, biting her bottom lip as she earnestly watches him.

"Do you really want to know?" He bites out, bringing his hand to her jaw and then sliding lower curling it around her neck, fingers tickling the soft nape of head.

She smirks, unflinching in the eye of his storm. She stands on the tips of her toes, bringing them that much closer, "Oh you don't know how much I want to know, Vincenzo." His name is exotic on her tongue, the letters not quite settling correctly but it sounds delectable to his ears, he wants to hear her scream it loudly too.

"I'll show you then." He's done with words, it's clear that they're both cognizant of what's happening between them, the air is so charged it's nearly crackling. She isn't backing down and despite his better judgement he doesn't want to lose, he can't be the way to pull away now. Simultaneously they yank each other closer, him by her neck and her by his tie. He sees the passion in her eyes, finally bursting to the surface and that's all the consent he needs, if she wants him too then she can have him.

Twisting his head he surges forward, eager to capture her lips and devour her moans of pleasure, his hand is now curled possessively around the small swell of her tight posterior, her suit pants always putting it beautifully on display. He had been hungry to touch it, grab it and feel the plumpness in his hands. It's every bit as amazing as he's imagined, her lips fall open as he squeezes at the flesh and he leans forward prepared to eat her alive.

She wraps her free arm around his neck, dragging him down to meet her and he easily lifts her off the ground, grinning boyishly when she squeaks releasing his tie to wrap both arms around his neck, their faces are now level. His hand remains on her ass.

Silently they move towards each other, intent crystal clear.

He can feel the heat from her lip, just as he grazes the smooth skin he hears a loud crash from behind them and they both jump, foreheads knocking accidentally as they react to the sudden sound.

He unceremoniously drops her, but her arms still latched around his shoulder force him forward making his forehead now collide with her chin. She lets out a loud scream of pain, shoving him away and shouting obscenities. He rubs at the pained skin, wincing in discomfort before turning towards the loud interruption with a murderous glare.

Who the fuck was it?

Nam Joo-Sung stands quivering in apparent fear looking like he's seconds away from urinating himself, his knees knocking together viciously.

A deer in the headlights, his eyes are as huge and terrified as one.

"I--um well you see.... I forgot to water the plants....you both look angry. Scary. You don't want an explanation. I'm going. Gone. I'll just. Go." He stutters out nonsensical, suddenly grabbing the plants and he watches as the frightened man awkwardly lifts the pots, cursing when the soil falls out dirting his clothes and the wooden floors, then he falls to his knees scooping it back into the pots, crawling backwards until he's out the door.

They both stare at the door.

Awkward silence remaining even with the man's departure.

And then a vibration fills the air, she jumps as if broken from her stupor reaching into her tiny bag and retrieving her phone. He can barely hear her over the beating of his own heart but he catches the disappointed look she sends his way, they can't continue this.

"Yes. I understand, we'll be right there."

Grabbing his briefcase he takes a moment with his back turned to her to catch his breath, collect himself. He's Vincenzo Cassano, not some prepubescent teenager. He can control himself, control is his middle name.

Then he turns back around and loses all his hard worked composure.

She's right in his space, rubbing absently at her neck as she looks at him.

"We'll finish this later. Don't think I'm going to let you off easy, I always finish what I start." She promises, pointedly looking his lips before grinning then boldly she lightly smacks him twice on his cheeks, "Pick your jaw off the ground, we have to go."

Her long hair bounces over her shoulder as she skips away, his eyes locked on the hypnotic sway of her hips. Her hands are cutely by her side, her signature walk that he had found ridiculous before. He doesn't view it the same way now.

Next time, there will be no interruptions he will make sure of it. Even if he has to kill someone.

#vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #I live for their tension #that flick scene undid me #when they kiss I might lose my shit #they'll hear me scream in Korea #and Italy #I love teasing #Chazenzo #that's what I've been calling them #joo sung is their deer #🥴🥴

[bbrandy2002]

My Love

Chapter Four-Please Remember

Book: TRH

Pairing: Liam and Riley

A/N: Thank you @burnsoslow who edited the hell out of this and did so masterfully and just for all your support with everything. Also, @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore and @romanticatheart-posts I stole your words from your comments on the previous chapter. It was just two sentences but wanted to give credit where it was due. Keep your comments coming and you two will have this thing written for me..lol. And lastly, @dcbbw who sent me the perfect song for inspiration found here:

 https://youtu.be/3Ru1euNUN2s

Warning: Physical altercation and MC death mentioned.

-------------------

Silence fell on Liam’s lips as he held in his hand the first missing piece to Riley’s death. It had been exactly 12 hours since she departed this earth and his life,  taking with her the best parts of himself. Every second since had felt like thousands of painful stings throughout his entire body that he wanted nothing more than to numb.  Would this report provide him with all the answers he sought to why her life was taken from her? Would it make his heart hurt any less knowing what happened? Or would it simply open Pandora’s box, leaving him with more questions?  He knew it wouldn’t heal the pain he felt, but perhaps it would clue him into why she was gone.

Ignoring Bastien’s suggestion to sit, he turned away from his head guard and pinched the clasp of the manila envelope. With his heart thundering in his chest, he reached inside and slid the report from its enclosure. Pacing nervously, his eyes scrutinized every single word, line by line, from her name to how the exam was conducted. Nothing was abnormal.

He licked his thumb and turned to the second page. His eyes immediately caught sight of the bold type at the bottom of the page, and he couldn’t help but skip straight to it.

The cause of death is acute respiratory distress from potassium cyanide-induced histotoxic hypoxia. 

Manner of death: Homicide.

Liam read those words over and over again, unsure he really believed them. His stomach wrenched as thoughts of his own mother's murder began to haunt him; how could this happen again?  Riley, his love, the one who made him complete, who turned his world upside-down in the very best ways possible, succumbed to the same death his mother had over 20 years ago. Poisoned.

He had spent the last several hours contemplating whether he had done something to hurt her, thinking perhaps she hadn't been physically ready to be intimate the prior evening. As ominous as that thought was, knowing now that she was murdered, that he risked her life to marry for love after his father warned him of the pain of losing Liam’s mother, made him feel every bit as culpable of her demise. It was why he hadn’t chosen her at his coronation; he knew she was set up, but he had to protect her, even if it meant they couldn’t be together. 

Liam turned to Bastien with a remorseful look. “I killed her, Bas.”

“Sir, you did no such thing.”

He held up the report. “Then explain this … he warned me, Bastien; my father told me my love for her made me weak, that I put everyone at risk by choosing her. He was right.”

“Your Majesty, regardless of what the late King said, the same poison that killed your mother was found in the Queen. We need to proceed with an investigation and find out who really committed this atrocious act.”

Liam ran a hand down his face. “Yes, we need another damn investigation that will take you 20 years to figure out-except you didn’t figure out who killed my mother! my friends and I did that!” he spat.

“Sir, with all due respect, I wasn’t the Head Guard when your mother passed.”

Liam yanks Bastien by the collar, nearly nose to nose with him. “YOU ARE FOR THIS ONE!”

The guard attempted to loosen the grip, feeling the weight of his King’s words. “Please, sir. I understand the anger directed at me …”

“Oh, I don’t believe you can even begin to understand the anger I have for you, Mr. Lykel.” Liam stepped back. “You are charged with protecting my family, and so far two members of the royal family have been murdered on your watch:my father and my wife..So help me God, if I find out you could have prevented this and failed again …”

“What’s going on?” Drake asked, having heard the commotion and stepped around the corner to make sure everything was okay.

Liam continued to eye Bastien with a steely glare. “Drake, can you stay with Ellie while I take care of some business? I need someone I can trust to actually protect her.”

__________

In the lowest reaches of the palace, Liam placed two cold hands on the cell bars of the former Duke of Karlington. Godfrey had been imprisoned for the last six weeks, awaiting trial for his part in Eleanor’s death. The elderly man was lying down on his cot, stewing in boredom and oppressive thoughts, when he heard the familiar sound of keys clanking and the creaking of the door swinging open. Before he had time to lower the arm that rested over his eyes, he was jerked from his peaceful doldrums on the bed and brought to his feet. His aging body was thrust against the icy concrete of his prison walls, causing him to bounce off and stumble harshly to the ground.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Liam crouched down beside him, grabbing a fistful of Godfrey’s silver mane in one hand and his feeble neck with the other. “You son of a bitch. I will give you one chance and one chance only to rectify your miserable life before I strangle you with my bare hands!"

"This is preposterous," he gagged slightly as Liam's hand constricted tighter around his neck. Godfrey instinctively began tugging on the King's arm, desperate for breath.

"Did you kill my wife?" His tone became sharper.

The Duke gasped for air after the grasp on his neck was loosened. He furrowed his brows as he stared straight into the unforgiving eyes of his captor, unsure whether the lack of oxygen caused him to misunderstand.

"Did I hear you correctly? The Queen … is dead?"

Liam released his hold on Karlington's neck but kept the other bound to the back of his hair. "Did.you.do.it?'' he seethed.

"I haven't the faintest idea what the bloody hell you speak of!'' he replied contemptuously. "I'm facing death for what happened to Eleanor; what possible reason would I have for harming the Queen now?"

"Because you have a track record, Your Grace. The same poison you used to end my mother’s life was found in Riley’s body. I don’t believe this is just some coincidence.  You had nothing to lose."

"I would have nothing to gain either," he replied succinctly.

Liam let out a heavy sigh and stood, towering over the man whose deception and thirst for power had cost him years of anguish and emotional turmoil as a child. He searched Godfrey’s malevolent face for any indication of guilt or responsibility, yet none was detected. Feeling overcome by mental and physical exhaustion, he turned and walked toward the prison doors, where a guard stood nearby watching the encounter. “I’m ready.”

The guard pulled his keys from the clip on his belt and opened the door. As he exited and the lock was secured behind him, Godfrey pushed himself up from the ground and called out to him.

“Your Majesty!”

Liam stopped just out of view but did not face him. "What is it, Godfrey?"

Godfrey grabbed the bars of his cell and pressed his withered face against them.

“Sometimes we have no one to blame but ourselves. Are you really surprised this has happened, considering that from the moment you announced your engagement to the puckish American, our country has suffered one attack after another? Perhaps you’ll think wisely when choosing your next queen, because this lies squarely on your shoulders, Rhys."

Liam hung his head low Godfrey’s words were doing exactly what he intended them to do, getting under his skin and inside his heart. He did blame himself; he knew he always would. The guilt was eating him up inside because he thought the two of them together were unstoppable. They had encountered every possible danger together and always came out victoriously, but somehow he failed her this time. He turned on his heels, motioning for the guard to reopen Godfrey’s cell door.

“Take care of him.”

The guard nodded and lifted the pommel of his club from the holster at his side.

_____________

That evening, Hana would return to Valtoria. She had offered to stay, but Liam insisted he and Ellie would be fine. Maxwell and Bertrand returned to Ramsford soon after, and Drake retired to his room.

Liam stood just outside his bedroom after putting Ellie in her crib for the night. Fear of being in their room without Riley, sleeping in their bed alone for the first time and knowing that was the last place he saw her alive, prevented him from stepping inside. He placed his hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it, then let go. 

With the baby monitor still in his hand, he headed back downstairs and stepped out onto the balcony just off the living room. Liam placed both hands on the balcony railing and leaned into it. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing the cool, spring wind that carried just a hint of honeysuckle to refresh his mind and relax his worn and weary body. 

“My love,” he began, peering down towards the entrance of the hedge maze. “I keep expecting to wake up and see that beautiful face of yours looking back at me, telling me this has all been just one horrible nightmare.” His throat began to tighten as his emotions started to resurface. “I have all of our wonderful friends, I have Ellie, but I don’t have you … and I’m so lonely, Riley,” he choked out. “I’m so lonely.”

Liam swiped away the tears that began to surface and roll down his cheeks like a torrential downpour. “Everyone keeps telling me that we will find out who did this to you - and I swear I will - but in the end, it won’t bring you back to me ... and our little girl will never know her mother, Ri. How do I even begin to tell her about you?... about us?” 

Liam pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and washed it over his teary face. His gaze turned to a small apple tree that he and Riley planted just outside the hedge maze shortly after finding out they were expecting a baby. Liam recalled she wanted something to represent the three of them: her being from the Big Apple, him being from the Land of Apples and their baby referred to by the people of Cordonia as “the Little Apple.” A thought crossed his mind, and he knew it was the right decision.  “Love, if it’s okay, I would like to lay you to rest under that tree.” He sniffles, “I think you would have wanted that.”

Feeling his eyelids growing heavier than he could withstand any longer, he said a quick good night, hoping it reached the heavens, before returning to the warmth of the indoors. 

Liam walked back upstairs and grabbed two blankets and a pillow from a hall closet. He entered Ellie’s room. Even with a guest bedroom, he didn’t want to be alone tonight, opting to sleep on the floor next to his daughter’s crib. 

______________

It had been one week since Riley died, and there were no leads, no suspects, no evidence other than the cyanide found in her body. No one who had spoken with or saw her in the days prior to the tragedy noticed anything that suggested she was sick. Cyanide poisoning kills quickly, though, and Liam, as the last person to see her alive, couldn’t explain how she ingested it. Their quarters had been swept, and no traces of suspicious activity was found anywhere. As frustrating as all of this was to Liam, he had something else on his mind today.

It had taken him three days to finally re-enter his bedroom, yet he still slept in Ellie’s nursery where the staff prepared a small bed for him there. He knew it was nonsensical, but he just couldn’t bring himself to be alone in bed without Riley.

Today, all businesses were closed, flags lined the streets of the Capital, and a frenzy of press and people were already gathering along the funeral procession route to pay homage to their beloved queen. At the palace, Liam stood before the vanity, adjusting his tie, smoothing out his suit jacket, and locking the emerald  cufflinks Riley gave him in place. He glanced over himself once more in the mirror before peeking down at Ellie, who was sitting in a bouncer on the vanity beside him, watching his every move. 

“All right, Princess, this is where your mother would tell me my tie is crooked or I have a hair standing up in the back. It’s up to you now; what’s the verdict?”

Ellie’s lips curved into a large smile, completely enamored by the attention she was getting from her father. “I will take that to mean the Princess approves,” he smiled back.

Liam gathered a baby cloth and slung it over his shoulder then lifted the baby from her bouncer. With a kiss to her forehead, he moved downstairs, where Bertrand and Maxwell were waiting for him at the door. Both brothers’ grim faces perked up at the sight of the approaching baby, who was almost a mirror image of Riley. Miss Talbert, who had served as Riley’s personal assistant, agreed to stay on as Ellie’s nanny, having helped care for her in one way or another since her birth.

“Amanda, she’s been changed and fed recently and will most likely take a nap within the hour.”

“Come here, sweetheart.” Amanda took Ellie from Liam’s arms. “We’ll be fine, Your Majesty; I’ll take good care of this little peanut.”

Liam kissed his daughter on the cheek. “Daddy loves you, sweet girl; I’ll be home soon.”

He looked down at his watch and then to Bertrand and Maxwell. “We should probably go.”

Stepping outside the front doors of the Palace, Liam took a deep breath and prepared himself mentally for what he thought would be some of the most difficult hours of his life. The eyes of the world would be watching his every move, every expression, and every shed tear. It wasn’t fair that he had to be strong; he detested the expectations he was burdened with on today of all days, yet it was what was conventional of a monarch during a time like this. Any sign of weakness could be detrimental to his country, or so he had been led to believe. He wondered why grieving the loss of your wife, your best friend, could be misconstrued as a sign of vulnerability ... but then, perhaps, today, he was vulnerable.

The sun was high, and the warmth it rained down was quite welcoming. With Maxwell on Liam’s left side and Bertrand on his right, they stopped at the end of the cobblestone walkway that led to the drive in front of the palace, and there they waited. The silence that commenced for the next minute was finally broken by the advancing sound of a horse’s trot. 

Drake was riding Maribelle’s Dream and pulled a wooden caisson bearing the casket of Riley Brooks. Draped over her coffin were the flags of Valtoria, Cordonia, and Ramsford, as well as a bouquet of her favorite flower, purple lilies perched in the center.

Maxwell lost all control of his emotions as she passed by, while Liam and Bertrand bowed their heads in deference. Once the carriage had cleared, the three men stepped forward and followed behind on foot, out the gates and to the cathedral. 

The service was a traditional, royal funeral. Liam wasn’t sure she would have liked it, considering she was anything but traditional. Sitting in the front row, he maintained his stoic facade as everyone around him wept and sniffled, yet inside, he was completely destroyed. He was devastated in his grief and the realization that the last time he was in this building, he was beginning his life with her; now, one year later, he was here once again, for its ending.

“King Liam of Cordonia, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you vow to love her, comfort her, and cherish her, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in times of joy and times of trial, til death do you part?”

“I do.”

At the conclusion of the ceremony and after all guests in the cathedral had exited, Liam, Drake, Hana, Maxwell, and Bertrand each gathered around Riley with heavy hearts. It had been decided they would each place a sentimental item with her and say their final goodbyes, away from rolling cameras and the eyes of the public. This would be their final time together as “The Gang” and wasn’t something they wanted to share with anyone else. 

Bertrand, never one for words, gave her a copy of the bill for the Applewood dress she never returned, knowing she would have found it hilarious and so perfectly him. His throat tight with emotion.  “Goodbye, Lady Riley, until we meet again.”

Hana stepped forward. “Riley, you gave me the confidence to be me, to follow my own path, to have fun, to laugh, to be wild and free. You’ve always been there for me, and I will never forget you.” She gave Riley the recipe for her hot cocoa that they had spent so much time bonding over. It reminded her of all their best times together. She placed a hand on her friend’s cheek.

Maxwell held out a small white box and placed it next to her. “I wanted to give you a box of cronuts because it was one of the funnest nights I ever remember with you … I assume you would appreciate the fact that I’ve already eaten half of them.” he chuckled through tears. “I’ll never forget you, Riley … I … I … I can’t do this.” Maxwell turned and fell into Bertrand and Hana’s embrace.

Drake inhaled deeply. “Uh … hey, Brooks. You already know what I got you.” He slipped a bag of marshmallows inside. “I can hear you laughing now and telling me how gooey I am on the inside. I like to think you had a little something to do that with, but don’t go getting all boastful about it.” He sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair. “Damn, this hurts, Brooks … but I want you to know, I’ll take care of Liam and Ellie and … maybe you can save me a seat at that bar in heaven.” He smirked, “Yeah, my heaven has a bar, and all the whiskey I can drink.”

The four friends stood back, their arms around each other as Liam prepared to say goodbye. His thumb caressed her temple as he looked down at the face of his angel.

He cleared his throat and reached inside his breast pocket, pulling out several things. “Love … I have a few things to take with you, just some photos of us together and Ellie … and because you know me better than anyone, you would know I spent last night writing this letter to you … you always said I have a letter to write for every occasion. I won’t read it to you, but --” his lips began to quiver and his shoulders shook -- “I wanted you to know how proud I am of you … how proud I’ve always been of you. You possessed a strength I never had and without you, never will. All those dreams we won’t be able to fulfill -  yet we lived every dream we had to the fullest. We sure had one hell of an adventure, didn’t we?” He sobbed passionately, “We just ran out of time.” 

Liam leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Riley’s lips, lingering for just a moment. “I always loved you … I always will.”

With that, “the gang” left together and returned to the gardens of the Palace. They gathered together for a private burial under that apple tree she planted, while the birds soared, the butterflies flew, and the squirrels ran across the lush palace lawn. The five of them held each other, cried and laughed, remembering times and a life they would never know again.

#the royal heir #liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #choices the royal romance #tw character death #trh #trr #the royal romance

[themangledsans0508]

@mindless-pidgeon lol I was supposed to be working but instead I finished this

Um quite a bit of blood so watch out for that

It was worth a shot, Mal thought to herself. She was lying on her back in the dirt, ferns clinging to her body as she felt the warm blood seep into the ground surrounding her from a bite in her legs. She had no idea what that thing was, both what it shapeshifted into once again and what it was naturally. Just a huge wolf, this time it was even bigger.

She didn’t feel anything. Emotion-wise, that is. Her back hurt like someone had broken her spine right in half, her arms burned from the scratches she received during her attempted escape and her legs…

God her legs.

They were coated in blood, both having been bitten and stabbed by sticks and rocks and anything with a damn point on the end. She had been dragged by her legs to her current position and it felt like her legs were nerves that got irritated at any touch.

So a lot of touch was really fucking painful.

She didn’t even know if she was even gonna live to make it to the monster’s destination. She didn’t know how she felt about that. 

 However, she was at peace with the fact she was going to die.

On the one hand, she really didn’t care. It was like running from the monster under your bed before you finally meet it face to face. It’s far scarier when it’s unknown. She was staring death in the face.

And she was laughing at her. She was laughing at death.

She didn’t think anyone would remember she fell off that cliff. Nobody would come looking for her. She had even driven her own murderer away before the job was finished. 

Did she hate herself? Meh. Not all of her, but probably a fair amount. However, she had always been scared of dying.

Of being forgotten.

Now she had come to terms with it. 

She looked up at the sun for the last time.

It was almost as bright as someone’s laugh had made her feel.

That girl could make her truly smile, to forget all her fears. 

She had dated others before, but she was different.

Molly was different.

The clock in her head stopped ticking.

She closed her eyes.

~

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Twenty.

The clock in her head starting ticking again.

Started beeping.

She refused to die here.

She didn’t believe in god besides when he was useful in her cussing, but maybe she did believe in fate. There was a reason this had happened, she had come to this camp, she had met those fellow girls, and she had fallen in love. She was ready to start throwing around the “L-word”.

She knew she couldn’t get up, but she could keep breathing and wait. She wasn’t even going to try to get up. She may be strong enough to live, but she wasn’t in one of Ripley’s animes.

She heard distant gunfire and cussing. Lots of cussing.

Who the hell owned a gun in these words? Everyone just had hatches and bows.

Wait. There is someone with a gun. She remembered. Trampling and more gunfire came from the surrounding forest, closing in upon her.

“I wasn’t looking for a maniac! I was just looking for directions!” She recognized the voice, but the fear was unusual for something that had tried to murder her. She glimpsed the large dark mass leap past her line of sight.

“You found me anyways, fox! You want directions? Ask the Grootslang!” The voice was feminine and powerful. And another she recognized. 

Abigail ran in fast pursuit of the fox, shotgun in hand and in the process of reloading.

“Hey,” Mal called as loud as she could. Abigail froze and scanned the area, eventually laying eyes upon Mal. She cussed and ran over, dropping to the ground right beside her.

“What happened kid? What’s your name?” Her voice was soft but infuriated. Mal assumed about either her condition or the fact that the fox had gotten away.

“Hey. Um. Name’s Mal. I’m one of the Roanokes. The ones who tried to stop you from waking the Grootslang?” Mal’s voice trailed off. She didn’t first think that maybe when your life depended on the kindness of a psycho, you shouldn’t bring up the fact that you were previously her adversary.

“Roanokes? You’re a Lumberjane then.” Abigail seemingly chose to ignore the rest of her statement, which Mal respected and appreciated. 

“Yeah. I kinda got into some trouble and-”

“I can see that. What were you doing out here by yourself?” Mal thought of how to answer that. She didn’t know this woman, besides the fact that she may have been dating Rosie at one point. 

“I fell off a cliff,” she said. It wasn’t the full truth, but not a lie either.

“This doesn’t come from falling off a cliff. What did those bite marks come from? A wolf? A bear? Tell me Mal.” Mal sighed.

“A weird shape-shifting fox thing,” she confessed. “The same thing you were hunting.”

“She doesn’t usually cause harm herself. Did she say anything?” Abigail inquired.

“She was doing someone a ‘favor.’ I don’t know who,” she said. Abigail nodded.

“Alright. You need help. That’s a fact. My cabin is too far away to carry you in this state. However, if I remember correctly, the Lumberjanes camp is that way.” She pointed north. “Correct?”

“Uh, I actually don’t know,” Mal mumbled. “I got kind of disoriented in the process of ending up here, so, maybe?” 

Abigail pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed deeply.

“Okay, well then we’re going with my gut instinct.” Abigail bent down and gingerly picked Mal up, sending searing pain through her body. She squeezed her eyes shut and held in a scream. 

“Alright, let’s go.”

~

Molly was hearing things.

Upon discovering the mess of red, Molly had briefly collapsed. Rosie remained as determined as ever, insisting that Mal was alive. She decided they split up, Rosie and Jen, and Molly and Nellie. She wasn’t blind to the fact that they hoped it would distract her, that she would be so preoccupied with asking questions that she would be able to get her off track while Rosie did the real heavy lifting.

Unfortunately for them, it didn’t work.

Molly ran through the woods, Nellie on her heels instead of the other way around. Molly hadn’t asked any questions, and Nellie had no sarcastic comments to make to the girl.

She could hear things, voices surrounding her. The trees themselves spoke to her. They told her directions, right, forward, left, back. She could sense animals that had meant harm avoiding her. She could even feel the portals to the other dimensions around her.

Then she saw a light.

And she ran straight towards it.

~

Nellie struggled to understand how people felt so attached to others.

Maybe it was because she was always a person who preferred to be alone. Maybe it was because she would rather deal with things herself, and let everyone else deal with their problems, or maybe it was because the only thing she truly cared about was these woods.

This camp.

This girl.

There was something different about her, she could tell. It was written on her. Rosie could see it, Abigail could see it, she could see it herself. The girl, Molly, could only feel it.

But there were other things that could see it too. Things that want to use it to remove the seal that kept these woods away from the rest of the world.

Despite all of this, she was different even for a guardian. Nellie herself would readily admit that she could use magic, but that doesn’t mean every guardian can. Molly, however, could use magic even better that she could. 

If she knew, that was.

Perhaps she felt obliged to care about her, perhaps she felt bad for her, perhaps she saw a bit of herself in her.

Whatever it was, she wanted to help this kid.

But, she couldn’t help this if she kept running into every dangerous situation she saw.

For instance, running into that area of woods.

His area.

“What do you think you’re doin’ girl?” She was lucky she was part bear, otherwise, she couldn’t keep up with that kid. She took off running after the stream of blonde, taking notice of the fact that wherever she stepped, the ground seemed to instantaneously die. 

~

Although she felt like she was burning to ashes, Mal was still awake and could see the sea of green pass above her as Abigail raced through the forest. Clinging as tightly as she could in her current state she held to Abigail’s back. She felt dizzy for several reasons, blood loss being a major one. Abigail was strong, but she couldn’t run as fast as either of them wanted.

She suddenly stopped, nearly slipping in her haste. She looked into the abyss of plants, her eyes fixed on something Mal could not see.

“There’s someone coming,” she said flatly. She carefully stepped towards the object of her interest, before freezing once again.

A burst of blonde dived out of the woods, eyes fixed solely on Abigail. Mal recognized her the moment she emerged from the dark.

Molly, with small scratches littering her body from dashing through the woods, stood directly in front of Abigail with anger and fear dominating her eyes.

“Molly!” Mal called. Her voice was weak, but she could hear her.

“Mal!” She rushed towards Abigail.

“You. Let. Her. Go. Now!” She demanded. Mal let go of Abigail’s back with one hand, loosely holding it in front of them.

“Molly! Wait! She saved me. It’s not her fault. But, um, Abigail? Could you let me down? I might be able to walk.” Abigail nodded, gently crouching down and releasing her. Mal tried to get a firm grip on the ground, but immediately almost fell back into the dirt. Abigail’s firm grip kept her upright. She turned to Molly.

“You might want to help her, I don’t want to leave her trying to stand by herself.” She nodded and rushed over, carefully wrapping her arms around Mal’s waist. Mal felt warmth flood to her face, being touched in any way by someone you really love can make you blush.

She learned that fast after meeting Molly.

~

Molly held Mal tightly like she was the only rope holding her up from falling in hell. She was never letting her go again. Metaphorically, that is. She felt tears escape the prison she had locked them. She closed her eyes and rested her head atop Mal’s. If Mal hadn’t been in danger, she would have wished the moment could last forever.

~

Nellie emerged from the woods at last. She wanted to see how the girl would handle it. But god, did she hate tears. She approached Abigail silently, before turning back to a human and resting her hand on her arm.

“You did good, girl. But don’t think for a second this means you can do whatever you want in these here woods!” She scolded, removing her hand and crossing her arms.

“You old bat! She would have died if I hadn’t come along! I should hang you up and-” she took a deep breath. “Thank you. For the compliment.”

Nellie nodded, a silent understanding embracing the two.

“Your girl is on the other side of the woods if you want to see her. I know you watch her from the woods, kid.” Abigail clenched her fists.

“Thank you, grandma,” She sneered and rushed off before Nellie could give her a lashing with her words. She turned back to a grizzly and approached the girls.

~

Sutela watched from the treetops, careful not to be seen. True, she was a small fox at the moment, but that old hag could recognize her if she was a rock. She lost the girl, the only thing the boss wanted. On the flip side, she found someone with even more potent energy to her than the flannel girl. He’d want to hear about that. She carefully lept from the trees back to her home and her boss, where she hoped she could make up for her failure.

~

Mal woke up at last. Coated in bandages and under bunk-arrest, she couldn’t go anywhere or do anything. She had slept for a while, exhausted and scarred (literally) from the adventure.

She didn’t know how Rosie managed to convince her mom that nothing had actually happened, and it had simply been a nightmare. That took talent. Or drugs.

Lots of drugs.

She breathed deeply. The warmth of her bunk reflecting on her body and making her feel safe.

Until the door creaked open.

She felt panic fill her body. Everyone was supposed to be at activities, it couldn’t be one of her cabin-mates.

“Mal?”

Or maybe it could.

Molly stepped into the cabin, carefully closing the door behind her. She came and knelt next to Mal’s bunk. She reached her hand out and placed it on her cheek.

“Are you okay?” She nodded and moved over, patting the bunk to invite her on. 

Molly complied, carefully climbing onto the bunk and laying on her side adjacent to Mal. She reached out and pulled Mal towards her so their foreheads were touching and intertwined their legs.

“Mal, I-” She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing raggedly. “I thought you had died.” Mal laughed weakly and moved one hand to hold hers.

“I did too. Molly, when I was out there, I think I almost died. And not to be sappy but, I think it was you that helped me hang on. I was about the throw in the towel, and I did. For like a half-hour, it was just dark. Then I realized I had to try and live because I had to see you again. “ She felt tears slide down her face as she spoke. She tried to keep her voice from cracking as she continued.

“I thought about you and the fact that I-I love you. Like I’ve said that before to other girls when I dated them, but you’re different. I think about things with you routinely that would have never crossed my mind with them. I want to grow up with you Molly. Through everything. I want to stay with you. And if you don’t feel that way, fuck, we aren’t even dating, it’s okay. I can respect that.” Mal held her breath.

Molly couldn’t help but feel jealous, angry even, hearing about the fact Mal had previously dated other girls. She had to remember that it was in the past. Even though she feared that maybe Mal was lying, she could feel the truth in her words. She was telling the whole truth.

“Mal, I did nothing but search for you for hours. I’d do it again, and again, and again. I want to be with you, Mal. I think I-” she hesitated briefly. “I love you too. A lot. I would do anything for you. And hearing you feel the same way, I can’t believe it. I get to call you my girlfriend. I’ll be so happy once it sets in.” Mal laughed.

“What’ll help it set in?” she asked. 

“Sleep,” Molly smiled. Mal scooted closer to her, nuzzling into her neck and wrapping her arms around her back.

“Well, I’m under bed-arrest, so we can do that for a while.” Molly grinned like a kid with candy and looked down at Mal, softly kissing her forehead. She held her tightly.

“I love you, Mal.”

“I love you, Molly.”

lol ill tag the wattpad stuff later but if you wanna request you can

#lumberjanes #request #mindless-pidgeon #lj mal #lumberjanes mal #mal #lj molly #lumberjanes molly #molly #lj nellie #lumberjanes nellie #nellie #lj bearwoman #lumberjanes bearwoman #bearwoman #lj fox #lumberjanes fox #lj Abigail #lumberjanes abigail #abigail #mally #Chara writes

[sickficwarshiper]

Sick Brucey

Here’s my first ever sickfic, I believe in this one I swaped Bruce and Peter’s personality but hey, atleast it’s filled with all the whump we loveee.

*************************

Summery:- Bruce is having a bad day and doesn’t know he’s sick despit being a doctor until he reachs his down fall, cue Tony and Peter saving the day.

I suck at summeries I’m terribly sorry you have to go through this, I hope you enjoy the story tho.

@fandomsficsandfeels please judge my writing master of whumpiness *bows head*

__________________________________________

Bruce was confused.

He had woken up to a spinning room,his body was aching and his brain wasn’t keeping up with what his eyes were seeing, simply thinking he was being an idiot again with his non sleeping habits, he was starting to worry Tony was affecting him with the amount of times he stayed up late convincing the billionaire into having some shut eye if he wanted to stay functioning and the billionaire managing to tempt him into starting a new formula to help peter’s incredibly high metabolism. Yet even though he stayed up late the day before, he knew he had at least 8 hours of sleep and according to the wall clock in his bedroom -if he was seeing correctly- it was afternoon already. Bruce NEVER slept in.

He checked his stark phone -the one Tony gave him on his birthday with a ‘number one Science nerd’ phone case- and found a reminder that had him jumping out of bed and sprinting to the bathroom to start a shower.

Science lab day with tony at 1:00pm

Considering he woke up at 12:45 he only had about 5 minutes to shower and 10 minutes driving if he wants to make it there on time.

He ignored the dizzy spell that hit him and blamed it on grogginess from just waking up, and started the actual shower which was cold because he had no time for hot relaxing showers that helps with tense muscles an-

Okay, maybe it was a bad idea to stay up late experimenting the right formulas for the medicine.

He got out of the shower having not really done much and was sure he still had shampoo in his hair that would soon dry and be a pain in the ass to get off later, put on whatever the hell was laid on his desk’s chair, not really caring if it was the same clothes he wore the day prior and started to stumble down the stairs with the aim of not tripping over his own feet which would lead to the consequences of not being able to make it at all even after all the trouble he went through. He knew it was already bad enough he missed breakfast, but he couldn’t bare seeing anything edible at the moment, he blamed it on the anxiousness of not making it there on time.

He knew tony wouldn’t mind if he was a bit late, but he likes to always be on time. He doesn’t like letting anyone down. (A/N I don’t know why he sounds so much like peter rn lol)

Looking at the time, he had 12 minutes to make it there on time, which meant he showered and dressed in only 3 minutes. He thanked Thor he lived near the compound and would eventually make it in 11 minutes according to the navigation.

He was sweating, obviously after all the stumbling and sprinting about he just did, but it wasn’t the kind of sweating it was supposed to be. He was surprisingly cold and the sweat was irritating him, maybe he should’ve gotten a thicker shirt on.

Has it always been this suffocating in his car? Why was he constantly switching between irritatingly hot and unreasonably cold every few seconds ? He should probably ask Tony to check his AC for him. Despite his shivering and constant tugging on his shirt’s collar, he kept his gaze on the road while ignoring his blurry vision.

Thanks to his annoying wavering vision, he managed to take two wrong turns and three almost accidents, and he made it to the compound in 15 minutes.

Cursing his screwed over luck, he dragged himself out of the car while contemplating whether it was worth all this effort. He struggled for purchase on his car door when he stood up too quickly, taking a sharp inhale when his vision blurred and dark spots danced around the edges of his sight, thinking maybe skipping breakfast wasn’t a good idea either.

His body was trembling and he felt fatigue tug on him like a wet blanket, forcing his body back on the driver seat, he took steady calculated breaths to will the dizziness away, deciding through his stomach’s complaint that he’ll grab a bite if when he makes it to Tony’s lab.

Just when he was about to try standing again his phone rang.

“This is Bruce.” He rubbed his eyes with the knuckles of his left hand to get rid of the blurriness. Blaming the hoarseness of his voice and his scratchy throat on his thirst.

“Oh so you’re alive! good, because I’ll have to disturb your beauty sleep -giving the way you sound right now- by asking whether you’re still up for lab day or not.” He could hear distant foot steps on Tony’s line which clearly didn’t belong to him.

“Uh, yeah I am. Not sleeping though, I’m in the garage and was about to make my way to the front doors.” He stifled a cough that was threatening to rip out of his throat for no apparent reason, he should definitely have a drink after all.

“Great because I’ve- HEY leave that alone!” He heard a crash and a ‘sorry’ he frowned, pepper was out of town for a conference meeting and Rhodey had a meeting with the president.

“Tony, who’s with you?”

A few struggling and a heavy sigh later, Tony reached the line again, “Oh it’s just Peter, which is why I called by the way. Are you okay with having a third nerd on our lab day?”

He groaned, it’s not that he hated Peter’s company quite the contrary he loved it, it’s just that the kid’s energy was draining, and he was already lacking any energy to get him out of the damned car to begin with. This is what happens when he stays up too late and misses breakfast, after a quick snack he’ll be okay. Hopefully.

“Brucey?”

Oh yes, verbal answers, ugh they are the worst. “Yeah absolutely, Peter’s always welcomed.”

“Alright, get your ass up here before we die of boredom.” And with that the line went dead.

Sighing, he got up -slowly this time- and though still dizzy, he managed to lock the car and make it up the steps to the front entrance. He even made it to the elevator with not much trouble.

“Good afternoon Dr.Banner.” Came the robotic voice of the AI.

“Good afternoon FRIDAY.”

Leaning heavily on the elevator’s wall, hunching over in a fetal position, it seemed this was the only position his body was approving of. the AI was apparently informed of his arrival and started taking him to his destination. He always hated the way Tony designed his elevators, with all this unreasonable colors, it was starting to hurt his eyes, his eyes were watering unwillingly... well... because of the elevator’s crapy design of course -Totally not a billionaire’s at all- *though on any other day he always liked the colors and found them fascinating*.

Still dizzy , he blinked his eyes rapidly trying but failing to get rid of the constant blurriness and took deep breathes when nausea kicked in with the list of the other inconvenient symptoms -caused obviously from lack of sleep and proper rest-

“Sir, your heart rate is elevated and I am detecting a low degree fever, should I send you to the med bay instead?” Called the sound of the AI.

He ignored the sound for a minute to try and keep his breathing under control and push the black dots away, he always thought the AI was a genius just like it’s creator, knowing medical conditions was fascinating but it wasn’t making any sense right now, what fever? He was absolutely fine. He straightened up ignoring the way his body wanted to hunch back over in discomfort, and took one final deep breath.

“No thanks, I’ll have something on my way up, must be because of dehydration and lack of nutritions.” Obviously. He didn’t have a sip of water today. I mean come on, he’s a doctor. If anyone would know, it was him. He knows how to fix all this.

When he finally made it, he saw a sight that got him almost reaching out for the first floor’s button again.

Peter was hanging upside down on the lab’s ceiling, with Tony webbed to the other side of the room. Objects scattered on the floor messily and some of his test tubes and round bottom flasks broken with it’s ‘important’ contents spilled on the floor. Bruce was shocked to say the least. Infact, shocked was an understatement. He was not functioning properly because of -lack of nutritions-

And he was shifting from cold to hot every second, he was definitely not willing to deal with this shit and neither was the other guy.

He took deep calming breathes, forcing the other guy to back off and turned to Tony.

“Couldn’t you have at least NOT touched my part of the lab? Tony this formula was the only ones we experimented on for Peter’s medicine! God what is wrong with both of you, I was late for only five minutes! Five! Whenever you two meet up it only causes destruction. Jesus you wrecked my whole space!” He didn’t mean to snap, he was just irritated. He didn’t have the best morning and he is definitely not feeling so great because of lack of nutritions, he doesn’t know if that’s even the reason anymore he just wants to sleep.

They both stared at him worriedly, what’s wrong with them! honestly, he couldn’t deal with their shit anymore than that.

“You know what? I’ll just go fucking grab whatever it is you have in your kitchen, I missed breakfast and I’ve gone through shit today just to get here on time, and for what? A grown up webbed up to the wall and a teenager hanging off the ceiling, you’re both cleaning this up I’m not dealing with your shit until I calm the fuck down. When you’re done call for me.” And with that he left.

~Time skip brought to you by Spider baby.~ ^_^

They called him as promised after all his lab equipments were back in place, minus the ones they broke and everyone was working in silence.

Bruce was about to snap again. For the past 30 minutes he had been trying to make a chemical formula with a throbbing headache that was slowly turning into a migraine, failing miserably because of his shaky hands and watering blurry eyes. He kept taking calculated breathes, deep and steady. But he was still trembling.The food he had earlier was taking a troll on him, intensifying his nausea and threatening to make a second appearance, apparently Tony’s AC was shitty as well because he was shifting between cold and hot again.

And just when his anger subsided, his shaky hands dropped the test tube and he watched in slow motions as it chattered to pieces on the desk.

30 minutes worth of struggling, all chattered in a matter of seconds.

Bruce was on the verge of tears. Literally.

His vision wavered and he sank to the floor on his knees, holding his head while breathing sharply through his teeth, ignoring the tear track he now had on his face, he started coughing ugly deep throaty coughs, he almost coughed his lungs out and he was pretty sure he would pass out soon.

“Hey hey hey, easy.” He heard more than saw Tony and Peter making their way over to him.

Bruce kept his face in his hands and just cried.

“I b-broke it.” He sobbed, coughing weakly as he took in a deep breath, feeling strong hands helping him up and onto a chair, which he was most grateful for because of the spinning that was happening around him.

“It’s alright big guy, you broke a gazillion of those before what’s the big deal?” Tony rubbed his back slowly while he was hunched over on the chair, still crying and coughing.

“I know b-but I feel awful and I’m cold yet I’m hot a-and my head hurts and- thirty minutes! T-thirty fucking minutes tr-trying to do something right b-but my stupid hands keep shaking, I feel so exhausted and I just w-want to sleep.” Honestly he had no idea why he was crying, this was a really unnecessary thing to be crying over and he was just crying from fatigue at this point.

Then he felt a cool small hand touch his forehead, unconsciously he leaned into the comforting touch. Watching with glazed over eyes as peter’s face pinched in worry, glancing at what he assumed was tony over his shoulder with a nod.

“Friday, what’s his temperature?”

“Dr.Banner’s temperature was at 99.7 degrees when he came here and has been steadily climbing from stress till 102.4 degrees. Bed rest is recommended and a-lot of water to prevent dehydration. Light food and medicine should also be added to the list.”

“W-what? I’m sic-“ he was interrupted by a dry heave, surprisingly there was a trash can under his chin which Peter had bought over, apparently expecting this would happen eventually.

“I think this answered your question.” Tony sighed.

“I’ll go grab you some medicine Dr.Banner. You should get some rest here today, I don’t think you’ll be able to make it home in this condition.” He offered him a soft smile before going to get him the medicine as promised.

Relishing the comfort from the back rubbing Tony was giving him, he didn’t even look surprised that Tony was giving him physical comfort, or more like, he didn’t care. He just wanted to sleep.

Eye lids drooping, weak coughs and more puking later, Peter comes back with medicine and a glass of water. Both Tony and Peter helped him up to the comfortable couch in the lab and Tony left to get some blankets.

“I knew before you came into the lab you were sick.”

Bruce stared at him with disbelief da fuq?

“I heard your heart rate and breathing. I even told Tony while we were cleaning up the lab, he said I should leave it for a bit until you calmed down.” Peter fiddled with a string on the hem of his shirt absentmindedly, a nerves habit Bruce caught up with from all the time the three of them hung out in the lab.

Bruce looked away guiltily.

“I’m sorry about that, I didn’t even know I was sick. I was irritated with how my body was acting and just wanted to go home, Tony knows I hate it when he goes through my lab stuff, let alone break it.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh.

“I was so close to reaching the right formula for a medicine that works with your metabolism, one that works even better than Steve’s, that’s why I got angry.” He coughed weakly into his fist and shifted his position for a more comfortable one that fits his stomach’s liking.

Peter hung his head before speaking again.

“M-maybe you should probably focus on you right now, I-I mean I’m not ordering you I’m just worried about you, Mr.Stark told me you’ve been staying up with him lately and it’s bad for your health, n-not that I’m judging you or anyth-“

“It’s okay Peter Jesus calm down, I appreciate the concern.” Bruce chuckled.

Tony came back with 3 blankets, two for Bruce and one for Peter and himself.

“Today we’re all taking a break, we’re going to take big care of you right Pete?”

Peter’s eyes twinkled innocently as he nodded, beaming brightly at Bruce. And he could’ve sworn he started feeling a tiny bit better because of it.

Peter and Tony wrapped him up in a burrito after giving him medicine and putting around some lit scented candles, “I remember you telling me once how it gets hard to control the other guy while sick.” Tony had said while he lit up the candles and they all sat huddled up in blankets while watching some Brooklyn nine-nine upon Peter’s request.

Bruce sat content not really concentrating on the show anymore, but more like thanking whatever god that is up there besides Thor and Loki for having the most caring family ever. He already felt a lot better than when he woke up this afternoon.

And with those thoughts in mind, Bruce drifted off into a dreamless sleep surrounded by warmth and a relaxing atmosphere, filled with small chuckles and quite babbles, thinking maybe today wasn’t as bad a day as he thought it was.

#sick bruce #sickday. #irondad #spiderson #tags are fun #gimmy that whump #exhausted Brucey #sorry you have to go through this #hope you like it tho #thanks for reading #first published fic #english is not my first language #it’s actually arabic lol #maybe I’ll add more tags later #or not #i’m really insecure tho #I ended up adding tags again lol #hey to you from egypt

[silviasutton1989]

T.T.K. Chapter 22 “Say Cheese/You?!”

oA/N: Wow it’s been a while huh? Well in about 4 minutes it will officially be my birthday. Goodness! I remember last year being so determined to finish this be my birthday (insert face palm emoji here lol) Just one quick thing about this chapter the reason it has 2 titles is because I put a bit of an insert from chapter 23 Again hank you all for your support and if you are reading The Guest I should have Ch. 9 up before Monday I also plan to update my Masterlist soon.

Rating: Mature Audience only please

Word Count: 2700+ It’s a read...get comfy lol

Summary: With Mick captured what answers will Olivia and Liam get can they live with what the find out?/ Has Olivia finally found Boss?

The king's sleep were  chancy these days. Since his father's murder the word "betrayal" never meant so much. Now it was like a bad taste in his mouth: static and tormenting. It wasn't until Liam followed his guards into Olivia's dungeon that his nightmares finally became reality.  The sight alone knocked him back a step. There lying on a slab in a dark room was a large man riddled in small cuts from shoulder to ankle. It was the man from the photo, one of the men from the attack and if Bastien's theory was right, the man she hired to kill him. Could Olivia really do this? Could she be this dark? Would it be him on this table next? Then one question he'd been asking himself every night before sleep eventually took him, could she hate him this much?

"Why is he still restrained?"

"We were waiting for you, Your Majesty." Bastien states "He is the Duchess' henchman after all."

"Ha! I'm what now?" Mick wanted to cackle but he thought better to play this right. 

"Are you willing to testify that Duchess Nevarkis hired you to assassinate me?"

"Red? Oh...oh  yeah! That bi-- Boss hired me. Just look at what she did to me after fouling up the job. Just let me go, please and I'll tell you all the things she paid me to do to you." 

"Your Majesty what are you doing?" Bastien cautions watching as his king struggles to unleash the hit man.

"If you all won't release him I will."

Mick tried his best to hide the grin growing.  He was never one to leave a job unfinished and mere breaths away, freeing him no less, was one of his biggest yet unfinished jobs to date.

"Can I touch your belly?" Hana asks her hand already hovering over Riley's stomach .

"Sure but we won't feel her kick till a couple more weeks."

"Her?!!! It's a girl?!!!!!!!!" Hana squeals.

"We don't know that." Drake sits next to them at the breakfast table handing his wife a small fruit plate."Riley here is just wishful thinking, and also setting herself up for disappointment when she finds out my son is in there."

"Oh so who's wishful thinking now?" Maxwell chuckles sitting next to him  "So how far along are you?"

"About 15 weeks. We have a doctor's appointment in 2 weeks to put this debate to rest."

"Well that's just in time for my soiree."

The friends at the table all turn to see Neville standing before them shifting  from one foot to the other."I just---I wanted to invite  you...all of you to my estate for my year end event." 

"Ummm...." someone mutters as the gang all look to each other in confusion.

"Ril--I mean Duke and Duchess Walker. I would like to formally and personally invite you." He hands black envelopes sealed with boar sigil stamp. "You could come and announce whether Cordonia's 1st member of our next generation of royals will be a duke or duchess." 

"You want to throw us a gender reveal?" Riley shakes her head in disbelief "What with the whole duel and--"

"Water under the bridge. Please come. I would like to make amends for how I've treated you...all of you." looking to them with humble eyes.

"Sure. We'll be there." averting from the seething look of her husband Riley focuses on the beaming smile of Neville as he heads to the next table.

"Sure?! Riley we are not going to that party. For as long as I've known that man he's never allowed me anywhere near Cormery Isle much less that party. It's probably a death trap."

"Drake's right." Maxwell chimes in.

"Thank you... Max." Drake's eyebrow raise in surprise.

"Yeah he's going to bore us to death!" Maxwell states opening the invitation to read it while Drake face palms "We'd have more fun spending New Year's in a broom closet. Neville usually only invites 1 st born royals you know those who are next in line to their family's title. He has NEVER invited me. Once I went thinking Bertrand's invitation was for me. BIGGEST mistake of my life. There wasn't even fireworks!"

"Look I hate to say this but Neville's right. This baby, boy or girl, will be the 1st of the next generation of royals and maybe that's why he's extending this olive branch. We can't be outcasts anymore Drake. We have to mingle with these people. We can't spend the rest of out lives cooped up in Valtoria."

Before Drake could argue  Olivia was hovering before them her voice loud enough to command the attention of everyone in the room. Although everything about her outwardly looked in place her eyes seemed to say something entirely different as if her mind was worlds away.

"Good morning I know you all enjoyed the brunch. Look. I want to take a group photo so if you all would just-"

"Seriously Olivia, you could have allowed us to prepare." Madeline takes out her compact mirror checking the bags under her eyes, Tariq who's sitting next to her does the exact same thing. 

"This isn't a cover shoot. I don't have time for ....just...." Olivia lets out a huff "Everyone get up and head over here...please."  This was the courteous she could be given the fact she's spent the entire night carving Mick up like a chicken only to get useless information on Boss. Finally it occurred to her Mick was well aware of what Boss looked like so she came up with the idea of getting a photo of all the royals. 

Everyone follows the duchess to a nearby staircase and  slowly begin to get in place, Olivia moving those who would be hidden.

"Neville you have to come down at least 5 steps."

"But there's only women down there." He mutters

"I don't care I cant see you. Get Down!" 

He reluctantly does, cringing with every snicker he hears deciding to leave the staircase entirely choosing instead to stand near the banister.

"Well since you are all here--except for King Liam, are we going to wait for him?"

"No his guards said he was indisposed.   All right everyone get ready!" 

Neville ignoring Olivia steps out to face the royals "I would like to invite you all to my soiree for New Yea--"

"Let me stop you right there. I'm sure I speak with everyone when I say hard pass Neville. I'd have more fun in a broom closet then at Cormery Isle."

"Hey I said that too!" Maxwell chuckles.

"Well-- well this will also be for our new Duke or Duchess of Voltaria it will be a...a..."

"A gender reveal." Riley aides. 

"Yeah that." Neville looks off in frustration.

"The kid doesn't even have a gender yet and already you're making poor parenting choices." Olivia bites her bottom lip, vexed. It should not be this damn difficult to get a handful of people to stand still for 2 minutes. "I'll see if I can make it. Now quit moving...

"Wait don't forget to tel us when to say "cheese" so we will know to smile." Hana chides

"I don't care if you smile Just-"

"Well what kind of photo will that look like." Maxwell continues.

"1.2.3. Cheese . " Olivia quickly snaps the camera taking a quick look she sees that several men were not facing straight.

"Look. I'm only going to take this shot one more time. EVERYONE. Look this way or so help me I will gouge your eyes out with my stiletto, Got it?"

"Cheese!" everyone quickly responds.

The photo in her hand felt powerful, like an end to everything that has happened this year. Torturing Mick was cathartic in a since, Olivia had spent months being preoccupied with her mother's history and her own with the men in her life. Giving pain to someone helped release some of her own.

She's practically running through the large doors of the dungeon straight to the table where Mick was---gone.

Mick was gone. The table where he once lay stood there cold and empty. Olivia is frozen deciding that if she blinked hard enough he would still be there.

"Shit he got away!"

"No..he didn't" She jumps at the sight of Liam emerging from a dark corner of the room. "Olivia... we need to talk."

"Where is Mick? Where is he?" Olivia, hysteric and embarrassed, knew she should have came to Liam with Mick and the truth of what was going on but more than anything she wanted to figure it all out herself. To hand Boss to her king on a silver platter. To prove that neither of therm were their parents, or at least they didn't have to be. "He has to tell me who Boss is. Take me to him right now!"

"I can't do that." Liam turned away from her "I'm so sorry Liv. I'm so sorry I believed it was you behind all the attacks.

"Yeah...yeah I get it. My mom tried to kill your dad, your dad actually killed my mom. You'd be an idiot not to suspect me. But can we pause the apologies for just a moment someone in this photo is the actual Boss and Mick is the only person that can pick him out. So please wherever you have him just bring him back."

Liam didn't speak for a moment only staring away at the dark corner he entered from. 

"He's dead Olivia." the kings words slow but powerful, so much so Olivia didn't believe she heard him correctly. Liam went on explaining what happened but nothing registered, her eyes glued to her photo.

"Your Majesty I think you should consider letting the guardsman handle this."

"I think you should mind you own damn business."Mick fires at Bastien then quickly going back to his best performance of a pained man "Come on, Your Honor, let me go. I will tell you everything you didn't know about Red."

Liam's hand stayed on the latch of the restraint. He took a moment to actually look at the man laying below him.

"I'm such an idiot." Liam chuckles  " You think I don't know Liv?"

Mick nervously chuckles with the king shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah but she has a dark side...as you can see. The Bitch is crazy!"

"Never in a million years would Liv hire you. Even if she did want to kill me, the second you'd call her "Red" would be the second you would have been fired." Liam lets go of the restraint his smile wide and full of joy.

It was Mick's turn to laugh and he did it with ease, as if he wasn't still restrained to the table in a room filled with armed guards. "You know it took Red 2 seconds to look at me and know exactly what I was up to that night. You know she's the reason I didn't get to kill you when I had the chance. Didn't even get to make back into the room because Miss. Spitfire wouldn't settle down.  I knocked her ass unconscious at least 3 times that night."

Mick laughed on as Liam took a step back hanging onto every word breathing them in like knowledgeable fresh air. 

"Now I see why people want you dead. You're a horrible King! Just some some pathetic rich kid who gets to have other men--real men-- do your dirty work. The only person with some balls around here is Red. If your going to have them kill me get it over with I'm sick of looking at you!" 

Mick became frantic, the longer the men watched him in silence the more fear crept in. But they don't move, the guards stand their ground all waiting for their king to command them.

"Oh sir rest assured these men wont harm you unless I order them to. And I have no intention on doing that" Liam states rolling up his sleeves scaling through the torture devices Olivia had left behind."I always knew Olivia had a dark side...I wonder just how dark I can be."

"...one thing lead to another..he... he told me about he did to you...and I..." Liam raised both his hands to show Olivia "I just wanted him to shut up.  I...I didn't even realize what I had done until he stopped squirming in my hands eventually Bastien pulled me off of him. The guards took him away a while ago. I’ve been waiting here for you ever since.”

Olivia takes a long breath "I was going to solve this."

They grew quite again sitting in the dark room, but soon Liam starts to laugh.

"Is it crazy that I can't be upset by this? I mean yes we still don't know who's out to get me but..." He smiles brightly at the Duchess "I know who it isn't. And that means more to me than anything." 

"Finding out I'm not the one behind the attacks is better to you than actually finding the scum?"

Liam nods his head yes as Olivia raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah that's crazy."

Liam chortles pulling her into his arms not wasting a second to crash his lips onto hers. She could feel the kiss growing and took a step back to catch her breath.

"One of these people are actually out to kill you." She shakes the photo in his face trying her best to look serious knowing she was blushing. He takes a second to look at but then tosses it onto the barren table, cupping her face in his hands looking deep within a eyes.

" Yes but it wasn't you. I don't give a damn what miserable person has this vendetta out against me. Probably someone who has been unhappy for a long time and will be unhappy long after me because they have nothing. But I have you.

Liam held her in his arms once more and she let him breath her in. This Liam, this happy person she hadn't seen in months, or ever. 

Happy.

Someone who is unhappy. 

She looked to the photo next to her. This time actually looking at it. There in the photo were all the faces she had known pretty much her entire life. All of them looking towards the camera, all of them smiling  saying "cheese"...all of them but one.

Neville.

"Oh my God! We are fucking idiots! I know who Boss is!" 

"What? Who?"

"Are you going to Neville's New Year's Party?"

"No one goes to that...you'd have more fun in a broom closet."

"Yeah but this year I think Neville is planning something more than just fireworks."

                             2 and a half weeks later

He was watching her.

she hadn't thought about that fact until she was already deep within Neville's mansion The faint music from his from his party a noticeable reminder that she is no where near safety. But she follows on making sure to stay a good distance from the masked man.

He was watching her.

She hasn't thought to question how long. How long has he been in the dark corner staring at her. Her only thought when seeing that mask, when their eyes finally did meet was that this man was Boss, it had to be.

As he turns down towards another wing of the home Olivia braces herself  realizing the man knew she was fallowing him.

She could turn back around, run and get the guards..

No. 2 weeks of trying to convince Bastien Neville is Boss was enough. She needed proof and if it wasn't  Neville, Boss sure as hell was at this party and tonight would be the very last night she'd call this coward behind a mask that name. Olivia was getting damn sick of that name. 

The man quickly turns a corner and before the duchess trails behind she freezes. This is it. Once turning this corner she would face him. Breathing in deep her feet move before her mind. She edges around the corner taking in the full sight of him standing, waiting at the end of the hallway looking directly at her.

Hiding her gasp with a gulp she walks toward him forcing down ever fear that dared to creep upon her. "Who are you?" She asks.

Without hesitation he removes his mask and at the sight her heart stops. 

"You?!" is all she can muster as if his face knocked the wind out of her. 

 His words the final nail into her makeshift coffin.  "Hey, Cherry.".

Tagging: I tag randomly so if you would like to say tagged let me know if you never want to be tagged again let me know.

@walkerismychoice@darley1101@speedyoperarascalparty@mfackenthal@jadedpixiescribbles@boneandfur @andy-loves-corgis   @blackcatkita@missevabean@snyggflicka@stopforamoment@agent-bossypants@endlessly-searching-for-you@indiacater@tmarie82@umccall71@hopefulmoonobject@choices97@blubutterflyy@fluffy-marshmallow-heart@itsmychoicebih@kinkykingliam@blznbaby@viktoriapetit@alicars@butindeed@greyeyedsmile14@gingerjane15@barbaravalentino@mymandrake@choicesbyjade@drakesfianceee@confessionsofabrokegirl@drakelover78@drakewalkerrosenberg@grumpycommoner@drakewalkerfics@choicesteamdrake@choicesfanficlibrary@alesana45@thequeenchoices @pug-bitch@drakewalkerwhipped@drakewalker8@gardeningourmet@jovialyouthmusic@walkerduchess @the-whiskeywife @sirbeepsalot @debramcg1106

#the true kings #the royal romance #olivia x liam #drake x mc #choices fanfiction #playchoices #fanfiction #trr fanfic

[bilbobagginsabroad-blog]

Emirates 12hr Flight (Adelaide to Dubai)

K: Upon arrival at Adelaide Airport, we were met at check-in by a cordial middle age woman dressed in confusing Middle Eastern inspired business attire. She was pleasant if not completely over asking people if they had any flammable items. The most notable thing first off was that the majority of the passengers and flight attendants were decidedly miserable. I had a strange sensation that we were actually flying into certain death & everyone knew except us. That being said, everyone was quite pleasant including the two babies who aired their concerns about our apparent imminent demise rather vocally. We were given the usual pillow - mine had an orange cover and I wanted the purple one, but I guess no one plotted that misfortune against me. Plus a brown blanket, which I never feel is the best colour choice and headphones that work if you enjoy imagining what it would be like to watch a film underwater. The film selection was pretty decent, no complaints there. I chose an average film because I didn't want to waste a real cracker on a censored plane version. We also received a little pack containing a toothbrush, toothpaste, eyepatch (I lost the right word, but eyepatch is more exciting - we could all pretend we are pirates on an exciting voyage, not only just passing over Kalgoorlie half way into a film with 11hours to go) and possibly the worst pair of socks I've ever seen in my life. But the thought was there, thanks Emirates! Ok, so first meal came rather swiftly which I found rather interesting as it was presented as "dinner" but arrived at approximately 12:30am. Now I don't really imagine you can call a meal at that time "dinner" under any circumstances, but I also wasn't complaining because I'd forgotten to eat lunch or dinner & I get a little too excited about getting a meal simply because something is damn well happening. Dinner consisted of a dubious entree of salmon coleslaw salad that seemed to be the love child of a generic BBQ salad that your Aunty brings every year & a tin of Fancy Feast. I did, however, still eat a portion of said dish. Main was butter chicken which I consider to be the "vanilla-flavoured essence" equivalent of butter chicken. However again, I still ate most of this and generally enjoyed it. The individually wrapped bread rolls were still a little too cold, eluding to their previously frozen status, however I still readily consumed mine, aswell as Shannon's, because bread. Dessert was a lemon cheesecake & came with a solid tick of approval. I also partook of the free alcohol and drank some red wine which I will only refer to as "red wine" because while it was not horrible, it certainly maintained only a generic wine flavour - definitely no hints of blueberry or complementing tannins. There were an inordinately high number of things dropped by flight attendants in our general vicinity and while I'm sympathetic to the fact that we were on a plane, it did seem a little reminiscent of a slapstick routine. Mostly, I just hope no one was getting hurt or fired as a result. My favourite touch was the night sky situation going on. The roof was full of little lights designed to resemble stars & it was actually a pretty cute touch, rather than tacky. Breakfast arrived after long stretch of doze, wake to baby screaming, repeat. I'll start with the logical and positive aspects of breakfast: juice, yoghurt and fruit that was surprisingly fresh. All straight forward & hard to mess up too badly. Then there was another bread roll accompanied by butter, Vegemite & jam. I did appreciate the Australian touch, even though I didn't eat it, and the bread had obviously had a little more time to defrost so a little less arctic in the middle. So far, reasonable for mid-air eating. But the coffee, which I just should not have attempted on principle alone, was an abomination. It tasted like it had been sitting in the pot for three months & mildly reheated for consumption. Then the scrambled eggs. They were served with some sickly looking potatoes that, to my utter horror, were completely inedible. They've actually managed to ruin the unruinable vegetable. Harsh realities were learned today. I'm still trying to process that one. I ate the tomato, which was bland but acceptable, didn't even touch the suspect green goo that was once spinach, but unfortunately did try the eggs. I'm not sure how to describe this experience except to say that if zombies ever come into existence, I imagine the texture and consistency of these eggs to be what their flesh would be like after about 6 months of stumbling around decomposing. Concealing, mushy and not something you'd like to put in your mouth under any circumstances. The actual taste was somewhere between licking a sidewalk and chewing on a school textbook that has been annually passed on to a new student for 15 years. So all in all, passable aspects, but please, airplanes of all species, steer clear of the hot breakfasts. The company was, of course, top-notch. Shannon makes an adorable sleeping croissant and so far the Shannon-travel experience has been punctuated by wildly varied decision making. For example: "I want food", "No I don't want this, I want them to take it away." Which provides much needed laughter when supposedly hurtling toward your untimely end. Overall Experience: 5/10 S: The whole rigmarole of stepping through security gates cautiously clutching a boarding pass, passport and outgoing-traveller form in one hand, and a tent-like parka, scarf and the world's most inconvenient knapsack in the other, all while surrounded by the fuzz with guns and dogs, is slightly disconcerting. However, it did make me feel marginally more assured than when I travel on domestic flights where you walk up to the counter and pinkie swear that you are indeed who you say you are to the uninterested broad on the other side. Upon reaching the final round of security jumps and hurdles, a woman asked me to stand in her little Tardis-type machine which determined hotspots on my body of which she proceeded to seek consent to touch. Of course, I acquiesced. Unfortunately, it was just my outer thigh and waist. Le sigh. I thought I was in with a shot, mile high wise. Okay, so I do not enjoy flying. But I will try to focus on the positives. Whilst hotels and workplaces are systematically switching to ghastly energy-saving fluorescents, Emirates has lovely soft golden lights. I am not sure if other airlines have this feature, but either way, it is definitely the way to go. The plane also appeared cleaner than many others, although it may be been an optical illusion from their aforementioned lights. Finally, the name of the entertainment system, "ice", provided some lols. "Enjoy your experience with ice". Their ruthless promotion of methamphetamine whilst we were headed for Dubai felt like a set up. Although, I'm sure Dubai-prison cells provide more leg room then this plane so there is always a silver lining. The food. The food was dastardly, as always. Okay, wait. That is unfair. I did eat the cheesecake and breadsticks. I ate dinner at home prior to the flight, and ordered food more out of curiosity than hunger. Unfortunately receiving the food only resulted in more of a mystery. I am still not quite sure what was going on there. The toddlers. Ohhhh the toddlers. When Stapes, the alleged travel agent, misguidedly informed us that we could not choose our seats more than 48 hours prior to the flight, she condemned us to the freaking nursery row of the plane, where two year olds reign, and communicate through shits and screams. It's discombobulating to say the least waking up to a blood curdling scream of a stroppy tiny cretin. One thing I did learn from the experience is the importance of the person with whom you choose to procreate! In the row ahead of us sat two couples. Both accompanied by, let's say, 2 year olds (I am terrible at guessing kids' ages. Honestly, the difference between a 2 year old and 6 year old is very blurry to me). One couple united in employing their skills of non-verbal negotiation, threats and bribery to calm their squealing-like-an-axe-grinder offspring, toilet him, and muster enough love to dote on him and give him lovey-dovey eyes during his muted periods. In this case, the dad took on the gargantuan responsibility (pain) of holding this little bundle of joy (heavy boulder of terror) for the longest leg of the journey. Next to this well-oiled team, sat a mother of the year, and her uninterested, unhelpful lug of a "partner". Choose. Your. Partner. Wisely. Although seated in the middle of a four seater row, I was able to commandeer another half a seat where I rolled up like my tangled earphones to get little crumbs of sleep. My foot legally passed away three times. Such an unpleasant feel. I have no idea how people get zzz's when the top half of their body is vertical?! I need to master this skill. I can confirm that Kelly's beautiful mermaid hair and dark doe-like eyelashes look as beautiful after long plane trips and in different time zones. I am not angry, just disappointed. I would fly Emirates again, which in my eyes in a very positive review for the airline. I hate flying so this review was never going to be great, but that is not their fault. Ol' mate Stapes, on the other hand could have helped improve this experience by being correctly informed that you can, in fact, avoid the middle seats in the middle row by choosing seats early like 100% of all the other people on this damn plane. 6/10