ruthless kings

{Wonderland AU} - W i i s h u I n W o n d e r l a n d

Signe is just getting settled after a lengthy move-in with her boyfriend, Sean, when a mysterious dream creeps up on her–and refuses to let go. Becoming more of a waking nightmare and less of a dream, she finds herself stranded in Wonderland, a war-torn country ruled by the ruthless King of Hearts, a man who beheads all those who oppose him.

While there, Signe encounters plenty of movie-trope oddities–from potions that make her small, to tea parties full of what may or may not be lunatics. This is where she meets the charming yet insane Jack, the Mad Hatter who shares a striking resemblance to her boyfriend and Ethan, the lovable door mouse who never seems to stop laughing, and a mysterious voice with a sickening smile, reminding her to keep her name secret if she wants to survive.

But before long, Signe is forced to confront the King of Hearts himself, Mark. He seems to be all fun and games, accepting her into his court with an elegant grace, until he stumbles upon a white rose in his gardens. In a pure moment of horror, King Mark murders the gardener right before her eyes, splattering the rose with his blood. This isn’t the first time, and the flowers aren’t the only thing he’s determined to see in red.

With all the odds stacked against her, will Signe ever be able to get home?

“I feel like I’ve lost my mind.”

“So has everyone else. After all, you won’t need it when you meet the king.”

Written by DAN ABNETT—Art and cover by STJEPAN SEJIC—Variant cover by JOSHUA MIDDLETON
*Includes a code for a free digital download of this issue.
“UNDERWORLD” part two! Enraged by rumors of Arthur’s survival in the slums of Atlantis, the ruthless King Rath orders the use of ancient Atlantean techno-magic to track down the Aquaman at all costs! But the ex-king Arthur can’t hide for long when his fate collides with that of a mysterious young woman on the run from Rath’s own secret police. Her name: Dolphin.
On sale JULY 19 • 32 pg, FC • $3.99 US • EACH RATED T


Written by DAN ABNETT
Enraged by rumors of Arthur’s survival in the slums of Atlantis, the ruthless King Rath orders the use of ancient Atlantean techno-magic to track down the Aquaman at all costs! But the ex-king Arthur can’t hide for long when his fate collides with that of a mysterious young woman on the run from Rath’s own secret police. Her name: Dolphin

  • we’re best friends who like to snag docked ships and play go-kart with them until one of our ships sink and lose the game, then we steal the winners and everything on it. needless to say we’re outlaws with a vast majority of pirates who would like to kill us.
  • we were best friends growing up but you left one day and became this ruthless pirate King and one day I run into you again after stealing your treasure and give me that same old smile you did as a kid but oops you’re chasing after me now even though I lowkey like you
  • i fell overboard one rough night and now I think I’m dead because I found this underwater metropolis filled with ghosts of legendary pirates that apparently is NOT a legend?
  • I work for the British and you’re this asshole pirate that constantly gets in trouble whenever I’m around just so you get a rise out of me and I swear on my life I WILL GET YOU
  • I’m a prostitute that was hired for this big pirate lord and I overhear you and your right hand talking about a treasure hidden somewhere and the face you make once stumbling upon me stealing it was truly worth it
  • one piece inspired: I’m one of the seven pirate kings who each have special powers, such as controlling sea monsters or shooting bullets that never miss, courtesy of Davy Jones. Funny thing about that though, we were all crew members once who overthrew our captain. Now in return for the powers we all have to track down this treasure for Davy Jones, and the one who brings it back first gets to live. All the others die.
  • [flirting]“You know i hear that 9/10 pirates that fall overboard dont even make it to the bottom of the sea”
    • [pissed friend in back] “what do you mean they dont make it to the bottom of the sea–where do they go?

@parttimedragon “#kylo looks like a stark”

good job for catching that!! i did in fact base his outfit on jon snow and my favorite thing about emperor hux au is that it plays out like game of thrones au but closer to the source material, in the meantime you win this 

“It isn’t revenge, Sejanus,” said this new incarnation of the king. “I wouldn’t destroy an entire house to destroy one man. But I would destroy a man to destroy a house. Your brother will be exiled, your house will fall, not because I happen to hate you, but because Erondites controls more land, and more men, than any four other barons stacked together and has proved to be dangerous over and over. Its very existence is a threat to the throne. It will not survive,” he said again.
—  The King of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner
Age of Ice

“The fundamental job of a toddler is to rule the universe.” Lawrence Kutner


His season, his laws. Isn’t that what Jack was always saying, always declaring as he tossed their assistance back in their faces? Power hungry, controlling, possessive little shit. Always had to do things his way.

But this was Aster’s season, and that meant it was his laws, his way, his bed.

Aster pinned Jack’s hands above his head and felt more than heard the snarl, vibrating against his mouth.

The boy had no idea what he had signed up for, offering himself like some ancient human sacrifice.

He raised his head, smirking down at Jack’s young, disheveled face. He looking like a pissed off kitten, hair all mussed, skin flushed. He didn’t look at all like the cold, ruthless king of Winter.

And for the next hour, he wouldn’t be.

Jack jerked against his restraining hand, such thin wrists Aster could hold them both in one paw. There was challenge in those angry blue eyes, and Aster was torn. Torn between wanting to be gentle to the inexperienced sprite and putting him in his place. To stoke the fires of Jack’s sexual appetite or just get it over with. He would never advocate treating a virgin roughly, but this was Jack, infuriating, heartless, needlessly cruel Jack Frost.

Jack, whose heart he could feel beating against his own chest, racing, nervous thing. Jack whose long narrow body pressed against his, arching, straining, fighting the impulse to struggle away.

Jack, who had offered to sacrifice his 300 year long virginity for the sake of spring.

He could feel the tantric energy, almost taste it as it surged in Jack’s body, undulating, eager to flow freely between them. Hunger flooded him, he nosed at Jack’s neck, clamped his teeth to pulse and felt Jack’s spiking heartbeat on his tongue. The winter had been hard even for him, but where it sapped him of energy Jack was full of power from it. He rocked against Jack, listened to the labored breathing. His instincts urged him to taketaketake, but he wouldn’t rush this. He would milk the power slowly.

He pushed up, shifted Jack so his legs wrapped around Aster’s waist, heard the shaky intake of breath. He watched the anxiety flit across Jack’s face, and leaned down to sooth it with quiet murmured reassurances, running lips teeth tongue over Jack’s mouth.

It wasn’t a cold person who melted under him, who opened to him.

“You’re cute.” Jack had once told him.

Aster had been called that often in his lifetime here on Earth, especially by children, but he had never been called it by an enemy.

The child, what he had mistakenly assumed was a child, had looked at him with eyes filled with adoration, even as it brandished the staff that had frozen him to the cliffside.

And Aster realized, as he attempted to break free, that this, this mere BOY, was the one responsible for the constant cold front, for the interrupting of seasons, for what was coming to be known as the Year Without Summer.

He had introduced himself as the PermaFrost, as if they were at some party and not in the middle of a battle for the survival of the planet. He had let Bunny go, a mere twist of his staff and the ice turned brittle, turned to FROST. Then he had offered his hand like a King, his knuckles scraped raw and chafed red instead of laden with rings, but that in itself was a symbol of title among Winter Spirits. He had fought his way through life and won.

His name was PermaFrost, but the humans called him Jack.

Aster wanted to retort, that Jack was a name Americans gave people whose identity they didn’t know or couldn’t pronounce, but the insult had frozen on his tongue, without the boy doing a thing.

He just couldn’t say something so nasty to a child.

That had been his second mistake, or perhaps an extension of the first. Because Jack was no child, perhaps he had been, at one point, but not then, and not now.

It would always be a mistake to underestimate him.

“Bunny!” Jack’s whine was high and sweet as he clutched at the fur of Bunnymund’s side, pressing himself against the Pooka like an affectionate cat.

“Frost.” He returned between bites, his mood lightening against his will. Jack’s presence always brought joy, weather one wanted it or not. He dispelled tension like he banished warmth.

It was his most deadly of weapons against his enemies, and his friends.

Jack arched back and Bunny pressed a sadistic kiss to his throat, feeling the jittery magic sizzle through his system, scattering his gloomy thoughts.

If he wasn’t careful, he could lose his mind to Frost as well as his heart.

In this way Jack was so innocent, everything within him untouched, an untapped well of power just for him. In the world beyond their room spring was arriving, already there was cold hardy flowers creeping from under the snow. Near two hundred years ago Jack would have killed such brazen plants simply for the sin of existing in his perfect winter, now Aster wondered if he would count each one fondly, knowing he had a hand in their creation.

Signs of Spring, signs that Aster had stolen him away from the cold silent winter to a world all their own.

Or would he curse them as the end of something other than winter?

Two hundred years ago Aster had defeated the King of Winter and halted the Little Ice Age. Two hundred years ago he had imprisoned the villain in a cave deep underground. Two hundred years ago he had saved the planet.

These were the lies the spirits told, lies they had crafted themselves from the truth the Guardians carefully hid from them.

Because two hundred years ago they lost, instantly, unquestionably, and had very nearly died. Would have, if not for the fact that the King of Winter looked at Bunnymund and said, in a child’s voice: “You’re cute” and let them go.

Bunnymund had thought the child misled, had invited him back, to see his world, to see spring in all its glory, but the boy had eyes only for him. In the end what had stopped the war had been Bunny, asking Jack to stay.

Now here he was, two hundred years later, with Jack sprawled out beneath him. The boy who had once casually pulled the wings off of a struggling butterfly, who had slit the throat of a glacier god, who every year had to be placated and cajoled into releasing the world from his ice, completely melted and at Aster’s mercy.

Had he known the path they would take would he have still extended the hand of friendship to Jack Frost? Or would he have trapped the child away in the deepest of pits and hoped the prison held?

Who could know?

But if one were to visit the Warren just before spring, if they were to hear the pitiful cries, the tortured screams, they would know that the King of Winter was suffering well for his crimes.

Written by DAN ABNETT
Art and cover by STJEPAN SEJIC
Variant cover by JOSHUA MIDDLETON
Retailers: This issue will ship with two covers. Please see the order form for details. Includes a code for a free digital download of this issue.
“UNDERWORLD” part two! Enraged by rumors of Arthur’s survival in the slums of Atlantis, the ruthless King Rath orders the use of ancient Atlantean techno-magic to track down the Aquaman at all costs! But the ex-king Arthur can’t hide for long when his fate collides with that of a mysterious young woman on the run from Rath’s own secret police. Her name: Dolphin.
On sale JULY 19 • 32 pg, FC • $3.99 US • EACH RATED T

@keeper-of-the-lore has sent me few links to related art.

Untitled Snippet (200 Followers Celebration)

Decided to post this now because I’m terrified that the words are going to stop flowing on this any minute and that I won’t be able to pick it up and start writing again. Praying that I will stick with it, though. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to write something so badly in my entire life. Thanks for 200 followers!

Clarke Griffin had night terrors for as long as she could remember. She’d wake in the middle of the night, her body covered in beads of sweat and tears streaming down her cheeks as she choked out terrified screams.

As a child, she would wake her parents and try to talk to them about it. Her father would hold her close as she told him about the countless monsters and demons she faced whenever she closed her eyes. She would sit in a rocking chair and talk to her mother about the evil men that plunged their swords into the hearts of anyone that dared to cross them, the ruthless kings and queens that chopped the heads off innocent people as their families were forced to watch, the barbarians that took what they wanted without remorse and suffered no consequences. They told her that she had nothing to worry about, of course, that none of the bad people or things she dreamt of would be able to touch her—that none of it was real—but she still saw the horror in their eyes. She still saw the sparks of concern. She still realized that they thought none of what she was imagining was normal, and she learned to close her mouth.

She kept a box of tissues on her bedside table to wipe away her tears, slept on her stomach so that her screams would be muffled by her pillow, set her alarm twenty minutes early so that she could take a shower first thing in the morning. She hid her nightmares, but never escaped them.

For the most part, they were different. Very rarely did she have a recurring dream where everything was exactly the same as she had imagined before. The landscape would change from rolling hills to valleys, the buildings would transform from simple clay houses to extravagant castles made from stone, the outfits would shift from cloth robes to shining armor, even the accents and languages used would change occasionally. She never knew what to expect when she hesitantly closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, but tragedy was always a given. Tragedy, and him.

||Bad Jokes||

Mister J X Mute!Reader

Violence/ Blood
Daddy Kink
Mentions of sex

You stared up at the dim, flickering lights on the ceiling. You wanted to sing. You wanted to say your beloveds name but your current predicament didn’t allow it. Said predicament being a muzzle holding your mouth shut.

They treated you like an animal.

But you were an animal that didn’t deserve this. “They” were two men who kidnapped you from your dressing room backstage of the The White Queen.

It was a new club owned and run by none other than Mister J, the deranged criminal. However, this club was very fancy and uptight. It was boring to say the least but it made Mister J a lot of money. People had no idea who’s house they were walking into as they stepped into the club. Mister J was always in a room that overlooked the whole inside through a glass window that could see out but never in. It was somewhat a casino, gambling games around with snobby rich men always playing. There was a dance floor where you could waltz, classical music always played- unless someone was performing on the stage above the dance floor; and that’s what you did.

You were a singer.

‘Gotham City’s has the brightest gem in the whole world, and its you.’ Mister J told you. You first met the pale man at a fancy resteraunt you used to work at. You were a singer trying to make it in the big city! Of course it wasn’t going well currently. When you weren’t scheduled to sing, you were a waitress at the place. Then one day while you were working, you saw the managers daughter singing on the stage. You’d never talked to her before, she was pretty snooty. Yet there she was. Singing the song you wrote. Angrily, you stomped over to the piano man who was playing. You slammed the cover down, crushing his fingers. He yowled and pulled them away. All attention was on you.

“(Name)! What do ya think your doin!” the manager screamed at you.

“That’s my song and you know it!” you shouted back.

“She’s wanted to sing that song, its not a big deal”

“That’s MY song. You didn’t even ask me!” You spat through clenched teeth.

“DAAAAAADDYY! She’s ruining my performaaaaance!” his daughters high pitched voice squeaked out. You thought you heard a glass break from her shrill voice.
“That’s it! (Last Name), you’re fired!” the manager raised his hand to smack you. Directly before his hand touched you, gunshots went off. A bunch of various screams and shrieks went around the room and everyone dropped to the floor. “M-Mister J,” the manager stuttered, “I-I’m so sorry about this pesky gal! I-”
“Mr Pujol.” Mister J smiled wickedly while making eye contact with you, “You insulted my singer”
“Y-your singer?” you’d never seen the manager, Mr Pujol, scared before…

It was quite amusing!

Mister J nodded and forced his face into a frown, “I don’t take kindly to insults. So now, I’m afraid, I have to insult your singer!” Mister J snapped his fingers and the managers daughter was shot in the head. More screams erupted at the gunfire, the manager and tried to run to his daughter but was grabbed and held by two large men. Mister and attention was now turned to you, his smile bigger then ever, “I do not take kindly to insults, my dear..”
“(Name)..” you tilted your head
“You have questions, I’m sure. Let me walk you to your car”

“I don’t have a car..” you blushed

“No? Allow me to lend you one” Mister J extended his arm to you. You didn’t hesitate to take it. For a criminal he was certainly a gentleman. “Boys, get takeout for me” the man threw his head back in a fit of crazed laughter. You turned to see the men dragging the manager to the back of the resteraunt where his office was. You smirked as you turned you head back around.

“Now, I need a singer. I heard your lovely voice a few nights ago and i just had to hear it again” Mister J drawled out a few of his words.

“So?” You wanted to hear him ask you.

“Sooo, my dear,” he took your hand gently in his. “Be my star?”

To most people, a psychopath criminal giving you a job offer might seem a bit odd. Not only that but they would have run like hell in the opposite direction! You would have been crazy to accept the offer!

That’s what he liked about you.

You accepted, of course, and he showered you in gifts. Expensive ones too. Every night before you went on stage you would have a little gift and a rose sitting on your makeup table. You smiled and held the rose close to you.
This continued for a while until one day, you walked into your dressing room to see him.

Mister J.

He never visited you beforehand but today he was here to personally give you the present. You dared to think that he looked nervous but you would never say this out loud. You pulled your dress off of the hanger and stepped behind the changing curtain, “How can I help you, sir?” you asked casually but with a hidden smile.
“(Name)” he spoke and you stopped undressing yourself. You had only gotten your shoes, socks and jacket off when the curtain was pulled back. You gasped and covered yourself even though you still had clothes on.
Mister J didn’t laugh like he normally did when you embarrassed yourself.

“M-Mister J?” You backed into the wall, his body almost touching yours but just barely.

“(Name)..” He repeated and gently touched your cheek, “You’ve been consuming my thoughts. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t THINK!” he shouted and slammed his hands down on either side of you.
“You’ve turned me into a different kind of mad man and I can’t stop it. I don’t want to..” he growled and buried his face in your neck. You gasped and blushed, knowing your neck was your weakest spot. You felt J’s hot breath on your neck and it sent shivers down your spine. “(Name), you’ve done the unspeakable to me. I crave you in every way. I want you so badly” Mister J held your hips and you could almost feel him restraining himself. Your eyes lit up as he pulled away from you to look at him.

This wasn’t a game.

He wasn’t drunk.

He was sincere.


With tears in your eyes, you crashed your lips onto his and kissed him passionately. J tasted like metal and chocolate. You smiled at the thought. Mister J pulled away with a wide smirk, to make a snarky comment, “What’re you smiling fo-” he stopped, “Why are you crying..?”
Mister J hated crying. It annoyed him. However, though he’d never admit it, he was concerned.

“I-I’m sorry J.. I couldn’t do it! It’s all a sick joke!” you cried, holding yourself. You were laughing at the same time as you sobbed. J was confused and growing even more worried,

“What do you mean, doll?”
He wasn’t sure what to do so he stroked your hair

“I b-broke your rule..” tears poured from your eyes as you looked up at him. Mister J had two rules.
1. Do NOT lie
2. Don’t fall in love with me
His gorgeous eyes widened at your confession.
“J, I love you! I can’t do this! I can’t be your pet or a toy! I don’t want that.. I quit” you cried, starting to run out but before you could reach the door, J grabbed your arm. He got down on one knee and silently held up a ring. It was your birthstone, (stone), with other little green diamonds surrounding it. It looked like a star. You cried harder as you fell to your knees and nodded. Mister J pulled you into his arms and shushed you, “Stop crying or I’ll change my mind”
You smacked his chest and both of you started laughing.

“Bad joke” you mumbled into his chest as you calmed down and wiped your tears away.
Mister J leaned down and moved your head in a way so he could kiss you. The kiss was rougher but just as passionate.
You slipped the ring on your finger and smiled.

“My little singer, (Name), my star” J began to kiss you vigorously all over, like he couldn’t get enough of you. “Darling,” Mister J grabbed your face as gently as he could and made you look at him, “I think I’m going to need you to skip the show tonight” J slid his hands in between your thighs and you blushed madly.
You’d never seen this side of Mister J. You cherished ever moment of this day. You only got times like these maybe once a month, if you were lucky, but fuck was it worth it! You loved this man and he showed you he cared deeply for you in his own special way.

Mister J made love to you that night in your dressing room. You two did not try and stay quiet, to say the least. Neither of you cared.

After this night, Mister J moved your belongings into his mansion. He had set up a room just for you in case you needed space from him some days. You hardly used that room. Funny enough, Mister J got mad when you did use that room! And it was his idea! Ha! The irony. Majority of the time, you were in the room you both shared. You stole his clothes as pajamas or sometimes you even pulled together outfits to wear with them! Mister J loved seeing you in his clothes. However it wasn’t enough. Your husband wanted EVERYONE to know you to belong to him.

Not just the goons he owned.

Not just clients he ended up killing.

Not just the people at his clubs.

EVERYONE had to know.

Mister J asked you if you trusted him one night. You of course replied honestly that you do. He smiled and kissed you and told you close your eyes and not to move no matter what. Mister J began to slice your skin open- at least that’s what it felt like. A buzzing sound went off for hours. You whimpered and held onto the chair you sat in, clenching your jaw. J kissed his work when he was done and showed you to a mirror. Directly on your left side of ribs was a tattoo in beautiful penmanship. ‘Mister J’s’ it read, with a little heart.

You were smiling as you remembered how you two came to be. The Ruthless Queen and King of Gotham. You loved the title those news anchors gave you. Of course afterwards, you and Mister J tied them to anchors and sent them down into the bottom of a lake.

They really shouldn’t have insulted you.

Your lips had a faint smile on them as you had your eyes closed. You felt warm for the first time in weeks having remembered those memories.



You’ve been in here for two weeks.

About a week ago your husband, the notorious Clown Prince of Crime disappeared. Your two kidnappers had given him two weeks to bring him a duffle bag full of $100 bills, as much as the bag could hold. It had been two weeks and for the first one, J didn’t even contact the two men. 7 days later, your husband disappears without a trace. Nothing on the news, no meetings, he’s not at the club, no word on the street- nothing.

Mister J had disappeared.

The two men tried to convince you that you were left for dead. Mister J wouldn’t be coming back for that beautiful face of yours. You growled at them. Deep down in your heart, you felt a pang of fear. You prayed to someone- anyone and anything that J didn’t abandon you. You dared to think that he loved you even though he never said it. You didn’t notice tears falling from your eyes, dripping down your bruised (s/c) cheeks.
You were silent as you heard footsteps and arguing outside of the door.

“We can’t KILL her! It’s a death sentence already that we kidnapped them!” Voice #1 was clearly panicking.

“A death sentence? The police won’t know!” Voice #2 burst into a crazed laughter that made you flinch, “We’re never gonna get caught-”

“To the Joker.” Voice #1 whispered as if Mister J could hear them.

“I ain’t afraid of him. He left Gotham two weeks ago, anyhow! The gal is useless now, man, just a good fuck for Mister J” Voice #2 chuckled.

Your blood started boiling. You had received those insults before and Mister J never tolerated them.

“A fuck toy?” Mister J threw his head back and laughed crookedly before snapping his head forward into whoever dared to defy his beloved.

“Toys are made to be broken,” Mister J growled with a wide smile, “I only break useless things!” the pale man waved a gun around looking for a disposable item. With his blue eyes locked on yours, he shot the person in the head, “Useless.. My (Name) is not a pathetic toy” he growled, looking to whom he shot.

You heard the men continue to argue.

“You said no one would die! I don’t want anyone to die!-” Voice #2 was interrupted by Voice #1,

“No one will bloody die then! We’ll return her to Mister J.. but not totally in tact” he chuckled.

That was rather vague. What’re they going to do to you? Send you back to Mister J in pieces? You rolled your eyes at the thought. Suddenly they burst in he room and threw a bag over your head. You gasped and inhaled chloroform, almost instantly knocking out.

You didn’t know it, but you were laying on a lab table unconscious. The two men had just finished the procedure on you to send the Joker a message. The first, more aggressive man looked over your beaten body hungrily. The timid second man was desperately scrubbing the blood off his hands.
An explosion went off that created a gaping hole in the wall. Who else would be the first to walk in, with a perfectly tailored suit but Mister J?

“Well, well, well gentlemen it looks like you’ve been busy~” Mister J sang as he looked at the two men cowering. The second man, in a panic, bowed in front of the King of Gotham. He was frightened and rambling, “Oh, Mister J, sir! I’m so so sorry! I never wanted to go through with this!”

“I do love a man who grovels” Mister J kneeled down, stroking the lads face with a gloved hand. The timid man expected his first encounter to be seeing Mister J smiling that signature smile. However, he wasn’t smiling. Everyone knows if you wipe the grin off of a jesters face, you’ve royally screwed yourself.
“You know what I hate? I hate a man who cheats in my games. You’ve taken my queen without defeating any pons” Mister J growled as he stood up to look for his precious wife.

There she was. Laying like Snow White on a metal lab table, sleeping but looking dead.

“(Name)” Mister J ran towards you and touched your face with a shaking hand. There was so much to do, wake you up, check your injuries- injuries.. J noticed the blood on your clothes. He looked down and his heart stopped as he saw stitches on your neck.

“What have you DONE?” Mister J turned around to look at the two men. His blue eyes seemed to turn red, filling with pure rage.
Neither of the men could find their voices. Mister J grabbed one of them and slammed them against the nearest wall, holding them by their neck, “TELL ME NOW!” he shouted, shaking the room.
The man he was holding up was clawing at Mister J’s hand, desperately trying to get air.
“Come on now!” J laughed, “Let’s see what shade of blue you’ll turn..” he growled with a psychotic smirk.

“H-he cut out her vocal chords!” Voice #2 piped up, “P-please put him down..”

The man was released of J’s death grip as he walked over to the man who dared interrupt his fun. Mister J kneeled down, glaring at the puny excuse of a man, “What was that?”

“He cut out her v-vocal chords.. so she couldn’t sing for you ever again” the man repeated
Mister J didn’t let any emotion flicker in his eyes. However his body language was a slight give away. J’s fingers twitched into fist that cracked all his knuckles, he rolled his neck and bared his teeth. The Clown Prince was ready to attack.

“Frost,” J spoke as calmly as he could, “Take (Name) to the nearest hospital.”

Frost, J’s right hand man, immediately scooped you off the cold metal table. You looked lifeless in his arms with just made your husband even more furious.
“Let’s play a game!” Mister J jumped to his feet and took off the jacket to his suit. A random goon of his held out his hand to hold the jacket carefully for his boss. Mister J took the henchman’s gun.
“Everybody likes games, right?” Mister J held his arms open as if he was asking everyone in the room. His goons nodded. The two men were shaking in fear on the ground.



The men started howling in pain as they reached for their legs, where Mister J had shot both of them.
“Here are the rules,” the cruel, pale man handed his goon’s gun back to him, “You two go and hide anywhere in this building!” J was smiling and acting like he’d just given them a gift, “If i don’t find you, you’re free to leave. Cross my heart.” He dragged a finger over the right side of his chest, where his heart would be.
“If you do find us?” Voice #1 choked out

“Pray I don’t” J growled wigan smile and started cackling, gasping for breath. The two men ran instantly in search for a place to hide. J sang a misleadingly sad song with a happy tune as he followed the bloody trails.

Back at the hospital, you were just waking up. You were insanely thirst.
You blinked your eyes open to see.. Frost? Frost! You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. Frost, however, was aware you were now awake. He came over to you and handed you a glass of water. You started to cry and cough after you took a sip, it burned your throat!

“(Name), please be careful..”
What happened? You tried to speak. Frost read your lips with ease but hesitated to answer.
“Mister J is handling those two men but.. to get back at him, they ripped your vocal chord out, so you can’t talk or sing”

You started crying. You couldn’t hear anything come out but the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. Frost knew it was dangerous to comfort you but he rested a hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

“You’ll be ok” he said simply. Normally that wouldn’t comfort you, just make you angry. Yet you smiled and felt like weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You said thank you and Frost nodded, leaving the room.

You noticed a pile of clean clothes on the counter in front of a mirror. You grabbed a familiar shirt and held it up to your nose. Yes! It was Mister J’s! You threw the hospital gown to the floor, putting on the (fav of J’s) shirt, jeans and clean undergarments that were left for you. You were smiling until you looked up. The mirror revealed how pale you (s/c) skin looked. The bruising around your tired, (e/c) eyes and how tangled your once gorgeous (hair style/ color) hair had become. You’d lost weight from not eating but not too much, the shirt you used to regularly wear was just a little big on you.

What really caught your eye, though, was the stitches on your neck. They looked scabby and red like they have been healing. How long have you been out?
To find your answer, you look around and find a chart by your bed.
'Blah, blah, blah, boring stuff..’ you thought with an eye roll. Then you saw it.

4 days.

Mister J had been “taking care” of those men for 4 days and you’d been here, unconscious for the same amount of time. You opened the door to your room, getting Frosts’ attention to somehow let him know to take you to J. The drive was silent but pleasant, you were simply happy to be free! You sighed as you inhaled fresh air. However, your happiness was cut short as you saw the outside of the warehouse you were being kept in. Shivers went down your spine but you stood tall. Blood curdling screams could be heard echoing around the building. You shook yourself of the fear. You marched into the room you heard the cries coming from.
“Mister J” Frost made your entrance known.

The room went silent.

“(Name)” J said your name with such a strong tone you wouldn’t have been able to tell he missed you if you weren’t looking at him! Mister J looked as if he could cry from joy. You knew he’d never show any sort of emotion in front of anyone- occasionally you but now was no exception.
“Pardon me, gentlemen, I have a side project to attend to” Mister J firmly, but gently, took your arm and pulled you to the next room. Before you could open your mouth, J’s lips were on yours, kissing you as softly as he possibly could. He held you close, inhaling your scent like you had his shirt. If you didn’t have so many obvious injuries, he wouldn’t be so gentle. Yet, right now you were Mister J’s little porcelain doll that had cracked. He is gluing the pieces together and waiting for them to dry before playing with the doll again. You enjoyed this warm embrace and teared up.
“Now, now,” he whispered, pulling away just enough to wipe away your tears, “(Name)..”
You carefully observed your husband. He looked extremely tired, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His normally wicked playboy smile was replaced with a genuinely happy one. You smiled and placed a hand on his cheek, saying his name. You both frowned as nothing came out. Mister J took a shaking finger and ghosted it around your healing stitches.
“I..” He looked at you with a loss for words.
You placed a finger on his mouth. J tilted his head curiously at you but he was smiling playfully again. You took your hands and made up your own sign language to say “I love you”.
J chuckled, “I bet you’ll be the master at charades soon”
You slapped his chest playfully but had a smile on your face.
“Ok, ok,” he giggled while hugging you once more, “bad joke”

You two somehow 'talked’ for a little longer, J seemed to be very entertained with your mute state. Frost eventually knocked on the opposite wall causing J to roll his neck and growl, “What?!”
“Sir if you have any last words for these scum, I’d hurry. They’re fading fast” was all Frost said.
You were holding J’s hand on your cheek, nuzzling into it. J turned to you and instantly started smiling again.
“Show me again” he whispered. You tilted your head as you had been doing when you were confused or needed him to explain.
“The finger thing” he said.
You happily signed 'I love you’ and kissed him sweetly.

“I love you too” J whispered, his ruby red lips barely touching yours. Your heart leaped in your chest and you blushed furiously.

He said it.

“Daddy’s gonna go take care of some big bullies for you, ok? Then we can go home and play more. Daddy’s gonna get some noises out of you somehow~” Mister J purred and winked at you.
You couldn’t scream, so instead you covered your blushing face and ran around with a big smile on your lips. When you accidentally ran into a wall you heard wild laughter,
“Careful~ Don’t need you going blind as well”
You rolled your eyes with a smirk and threw your shoe at J.
He chuckled and whispered to himself, “Bad joke”