he’s still half-asleep when he feels the soft dip of the mattress behind him and two small hands tickling at his back. it’s not an unfamiliar sensation, but it is one right out of a dream; this is a life he has imagined, not the life he should be living, and yet he is here, waking, breathing, wondering whose little hands are climbing up his arms. he glances around through bleary eyes and is confused to find a tiny face peering down at him.
“daddy,” she says, putting her hands on either side of his face. “wake up, daddy.”
levi knows who she is when he sees her. he knows that those perfect brown eyes belong to his daughter- but he doesn’t have a daughter, he doesn’t have a bed this soft, and he doesn’t have a shushing someone who comes and carries the toddler out of the dark room.
“daddy needs to sleep,” the someone whispers, closing the bedroom door as he takes her away. her whine carries through the walls. “we can play later.”
it’s always daddy needs to sleep, or daddy needs to rest, or daddy needs some quiet time alone. it’s that or levi, you haven’t taken your pills, levi, it was just another dream, levi, sweetheart, i’m worried about you.
Ok, so kinda boring stuff and quick, but plot building cus I still have a story to tell, even though just fluffy shenanigans while pretending to be married is fun. I just set out with an end goal and gotta meet it, sorry it’s short but yep! More fluffy nonsense and such when I get the chance to do the next bit (hopefully tomorrow, we’ll see if I have time) Thanks as always for the comments and feedback, they mean so much to me.
“Darling, it’s getting later in the day. We should probably get up.”
You groaned softly, curling deeper into the pillows and shook your head. The events of the day slowly started to come back to you as Loki roused you from your sleep.
“Did we really go naked on the beach?” You grumbled tiredly, not daring to ask if Loki had covered you, let alone carried you back naked.
Loki chuckled, propped up on his elbow as he looked down at you. “Afraid so, pet.”
You sighed heavily and straightened up, brushing away your sleep matted hair. “And the day’s not even over. If you mention any word of this to the other Avengers, I will kill you in your sleep.”
Laughing, Loki shook his head, “I would never spoil what happens in the sanctity of one our excursions.”
“Our honeymoon.” You muttered, stretching and yawning. “I keep trying to say it enough times to see if it feels real, but I still can’t believe I’m married to you, like you know…” Even though it was a forgery, it was a damn good one.
Loki chuckled, “I can only imagine what my father might say. Something tactless no doubt.”
“Come on, let’s go see if we can’t find the owner.”
You and Loki rode the tram in relative silence, nothing really needed to be discussed so you merely enjoyed the scenery as it swayed along up the mountain and over the tree tops. It was a beautiful visage, though after some of the places you had traveled to courtesy of SHIELD, it just didn’t impress in quite the same way. Still, you could appreciate it for what it was.
Soon you and Loki were at the shops and you figured it would add to the cover if you tried on a few sun dresses and bought at least one. You also modeled a number of sunglasses, looking for a souvenir for Natasha who you figured was your maid of honor for the wedding. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought Loki’s eyes lingered over your curves as you modeled each dress, a little too interested in how you looked but you brushed it off, pretenses after all.
“My most recent guests! Excellent! I’m sorry I took so long to find you but I imagine you were partaking in the beach today, perhaps in the solitude of your room?” You and Loki turned at the voice of a woman standing near the dressing room, beaming at you and the current dress you were modeling for Loki. “A gorgeous choice my dear, the green suits you marvelously.”
Loki swallowed hard and nodded, “Indeed it does, my love.”
“He calls you love, how charming! Forgive me, my name is Lana Bansch, owner of this fine establishment, and you must be Mr and Mrs Laufeyson, yes?”
You smiled, sharing a name with Loki, then assured her it was fine to call you by your first name.
“Nonsense, I think it’s suiting that you enjoy hearing your new husband’s name as much as possible for the next week, it will ready you for the rest of your life. I can only hope your marriage lasts that long.” Lana beamed. She had a long hawklike nose, platinum blonde hair pulled back into a taut bun and was shockingly tall; just shy of Loki’s height.
Loki stood up slowly, his eyes scanning her face, studying her intently. “You look familiar, have we met some place?” He finally asked. You frowned warily at the forwardness of his comment.
“Well, I did personally design and create this resort, it’s my brainchild if you will. I’ve put my heart and soul into it and I’ve appeared on a number of commercials, perhaps that’s where you’ve seen me?”
Loki nodded slowly, “Of course. It’s truly an honor, if I might shake your hand.”
The woman hesitated, eyes narrowing before slowly extending her hand to Loki. Loki gripped her hand, his thumb smoothing over the inside of her wrist and nodded slowly.
“Glad to meet someone who is pleased with my work.” Lana beamed, revealing a row of fiercely white teeth.
“The pleasure is definitely mine.” Loki turned back to you, “What do you say we get that dress and peruse the hot tubs as you spoke about earlier?” He looked at you pointedly and you quickly nodded.
“That sounds wonderful darling! Let me go change out of this so we can purchase it.”
Lana had quickly pulled her hand away from Loki and watched the exchange pleased, “You look like you could use it, your hands are awfully cold.”
“Agreed, I tend to run a little on the cold side but I’m sure it will do me well.” Loki responded amicably.
You listened from the dressing stall, changing as quickly as you could. Something about their exchange seemed forced but you couldn’t be certain.
“I look forward to seeing the two of you around.” Lana bid the two of you farewell, waving with a broad smile all the while as a nervous cashier rang up your purchases.
Loki took the bag from you, suggesting you stop at the room to grab towels before visiting the hot springs.
“What was that about?” You finally asked within the relative privacy of your hotel room.
Loki looked at you warily, “She definitely knows. I’m suspicious of how private this room is over all, but we should be safe for now.”
“How can you tell?” You lowered your voice.
Loki shook his head, “It’s complicated, when we’re home from our honeymoon, I’ll tell you more, but for now, we should follow our schedule. Tomorrow we should visit maintenance about that problem with the room.”
“Tomorrow?” You asked, realizing he meant to move forward with the mission.
Loki chuckled, “I don’t think we have much longer to wait.”
This Trollhunter!Strickler fic series thing is inspired by @changepherrox‘s art and written scenario of Walter meeting Barbara, pre-show, and becoming part of the Lake family. After finding his place in the human world, he comes upon the Trollhunter amulet and struggles between protecting his family, being a double agent… and secretly defending a Trollmarket that doesn’t particularly want a changeling for a Trollhunter.
The Sign of the Four, Chapter 2: The Statement of the Case
Mary Morstan in 221B is about to state her case: “…I can hardly imagine anything more strange, more utterly inexplicable, than the situation in which I find myself.”
He leaned forward in his chair with an expression of extraordinary concentration upon his clear-cut, hawklike features. “State your case,” said he, in brisk, business tones.
I felt that my position was an embarrassing one. “You will, I am sure, excuse me,” I said, rising from my chair.
(Mary stops him.) Does anyone have an idea why Watson felt embarrassed?
I’m guessing maybe
he felt like a “3rd wheel” or out-of-place in Holmes’s work, having not worked with Holmes for very long at this point. Or, maybe he got a sudden erection and hid it beneath a newspaper and tried to leave. And it could be a random one, or, this may sound outlandish but it could be brought on by his attraction to the 2 people in his company–Mary, and Holmes as he’s described above. But then why mention it? I seem to remember Watson leaving in the Granada adaptation and I took it that he was feeling shy about his attraction to Mary. So, that’s another idea.
“I heard the stories, you know, but I wasn’t prepared,” Doggett shakes his head after taking his first sip of beer. “The guy is an asshole. You’d think he’d be grateful, how much time I put into saving his life and all.”
Skinner’s been pounding whiskey for maybe an hour before Doggett arrived. He doesn’t mind. The Assistant Director is a loose lipped sunnuvabitch with too many drinks on him. He does this Follmer impression that just about kills Doggett dead, with extra emphasis on the eyebrows.
Rolling his eyes, Skinner shrugs. “He’s just pissing on his territory.”
“The files,” Doggett asserts. Silence.
“Yeah,” Skinner says awkwardly.
They drink some more. Silence is normal for them, with Skinner being naturally stoic, and Doggett being naturally contemplative. Their conversations are short bursts of mutual everything. They agree a lot, he and Skinner, when they hang out like this. Elsewhere not so much.
“Of course I thought about it,” Doggett says suddenly. “She’s a beautiful woman. Enchanting, even. She runs marathons around my brain in those heels of hers.”
Skinner tenses. If hasn’t already slipped his glasses off, he’d be taking them off now and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Instead he blinks, hawklike, and mumbles something into his glass. Doggett assumes it’s some kind of agreement.
“But it’s okay. I’ll get over it.” He finishes his beer with six deep pulls of his lips, thunks it loudly on the counter with a laugh. “There’s something I just couldn’t ignore about her, you know. Something that turned me away.”
Skinner looks up at him and nods. Continue, he’s saying, looking unusually interested. Aww, geez. You never had a chance either, Walter.
“The lady smells like death,” Doggett says, and then they’re both laughing like mad. The sound pounds the walls and envelops everything in sight.
“That’s the damn truth,” Skinner wheezes.
In between giggles, Doggett adds, “She’d… shower after, of course, but it still… wouldn’t go away… and then… she’d smell… like peaches… over all the decay. And that’d be so much WORSE.” Skinner nearly falls out of his chair, he laughs so hard at this.
“Oh, goddamnit.” And when the room falls lapses back into quiet, it’s nice. The world doesn’t seem to be so cruel. The two of them feel less pathetic.
“It’s good they have each other,” Doggett says after some time. They toast to that.
Pairing: Ivar x Reader Rating: Explicit (really, I mean it. No fade to blacks here. Only follow the link if you’re over 18) Warnings: human sacrifice, blood. About as creepy as that episode was Words: 2150 Summary: In which I graphically describe the sacrifice from episode 4x18, and the things that Ivar wants to do afterwards. Notes:As always for my smuts, the setting is an AU where the time jump in mid-season 4 lasted long enough to make Ivar older than the age of consent in your country.
Excerpt: The shaman is gone. The Queen is gone, the other princes are
gone, and only Ivar remains, sitting with his legs stretched out before him
beside the great bowl beneath the hanging corpse of the sacrifice. His hawklike
eyes fall upon you, the corner of his lip curling up as he catches you staring.
“The blood is sacred,” Ivar says. His shirt is gone, and you see
that he has painted his skin with the thick red ichor; down his strong chest,
over his stomach and down under his unlaced breeches. “Its magic is filling me
and the gods are giving me its power. Come up here, y/n.”
There is no question, what he wants you to come up there
for. One hand is sliding over his manhood, making room under his pants for
something that grows and shifts. His eyes are roaming over your body.
Ashton would be the bad boy that got sent away for a few years for his delinquency and would come back senior year to surprise you. Cause let’s be honest, you were his favorite person to torment even though he never realized how awful he really was to you. And you would regret his arrival, hoping that it was just a sick joke but when you seen his perfect face in the hall, you couldn’t help but scurry far away before he seen you but you knew damn well his hawklike eyes could peep you out in a crowd of thousands and when the footsteps could be heard behind you in the almost empty hall, you couldn’t help but hurry fast down the hall. He screamed for you to slow down, just a little so he could talk to you but you only hurry faster, almost running over a lonesome freshmen that looked lost. But he finally catches up and snatches you lightly by the arm into his now matured body and god did he feel amazing against you. And he’d plead for you to just look at him, just once and he was only taken aback by the tears streaming down your face and he couldn’t help but feel like the dick of the century because he knew it was because of him. And he hugged you. He hugged you so close that all you could do was cry into him and your hands clenched his shirt in hopes it’d some how make everything better and his roamed over your back soothingly and that’s when he promised himself he’d do everything in his favor to make up for it, and he promised you everything would be different, everything would be better. But fuck, everyone hated you and you were always weary, and this for sure was not going to work out for you. Especially when your main torment since he’s been gone was your ‘ex-best friend’, you knew it was bound to go downhill. She made sure to keep the tormenting going and once Ashton found that out, he made sure to crush everything that she was. But you told him not to even worry and that he made it clear before he left he didn’t care that you were bullied, hurt, and damaged for many years. And you walked away from him, leaving him alone to let it rot his mind away and eat at him because in all honesty, it wasn’t a lie to a certain extent. You stayed away for days and hid every time you seen him round a corner and he felt fucking awful for how much he put on you the past years but he wanted to help and you aren’t letting him and this anger bubbles in him. But not towards you, but to the she-devil herself and he’s been watching, knowing how she treats you and how everyone else does and that was not something that he wanted to happen, ever. And even during your prepubescent years with a little too much weight covering your body, the boy was in love with you and he only got your attention in the worst of ways and he knew he was only a fuck up for it. But now you were more beautiful than ever and stronger than you were four years ago and his desires only enhanced but not because you lost a little weight or grew your hair out, but the fact you took everything on by yourself for years and you were still going strong. And everything about you sent a tingle through his body and he couldn’t help but want you and need you and for years your ex-best friend was deeply in love with the boy and you always thought they’d look amazing together, their personalities matching soon enough. But he never wanted her and never liked her, having a bad feeling for the longest. And he stayed away from her even when she was throwing herself at him ever since he got back. But he did whatever to get your attention and keep hers away. So he kisses you one day. In front of everyone and even in front of the girl that was hopelessly in love with him without a care, because reputation meant nothing and you meant everything and he couldn’t go another day without you. And she would stomp away in fury because how dare you kiss her love, but he could never like her, never want her or need her in the way he needed you. Your hands would clench onto his as they cupped your face and your knees would buckle right from under you from the kiss and it was the best thing that’s happened to you in awhile. Your stomach fluttered with butterflies and you felt like you could never hate him, everything disappearing before your eyes. You were breathless and speechless beyond words and you knew everyone was just staring, not believing what was happening right before them, because let’s be real here, no one seen this happening in a million years. And you became nervous because you knew what was running through everyone’s head but he held your forehead to his and stared deeply at you, calming words falling past his lips and calming you to a quiet tremble you could handle. And his hands run through your hair as you close your eyes in content because honestly, you were truly content in the moment and you would make sure to live it out for as long as you possibly could. Seeing how everything was finally falling in place by the one who once smashed everything to pieces, you knew love had its own twisted fate.
Magnus stood up and went to the window. He pushed the curtain back, letting in just enough light to silhouette his hawklike profile. “Blood,” he said, half to himself. “I had a dream two nights ago. I saw a city all of blood, with towers made of bone, and blood ran in the streets like water.”
Simon slewed his eyes over to Jace. “Is standing by the window muttering about blood something he does all the time?”
“No,” said Jace, “sometimes he sits on the couch and does it.
Alec shot them both a sharp glance. "Magnus, what’s wrong?