#ALSO I NOTICED SHE HAS A DEAD PERSON CROSS OVER ON HER UNIFORM ON HER SPRITES????

[vcaart]

hello i just wanna say your v3 and sdv art is SOOOOO cute it makes me miss them soooo much hehehe, if you're interested could i have a tenko and kaede? or just either of them on their own even!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH IN ADVANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

They work at the long bacon store together

[liillyliilly]

Shirts To Victory

sawamura daichi x reader words; 2504 synopsis; trading shirts with you so you can take your test never ended up feeling so good

Sawamura Daichi is mature.

Sawamura Daichi is responsible.

And most importantly, Sawamura Daichi is caring.

She, however, lacked a lot of those things. Especially the whole being a responsible person thing. And that’s how she got into her current situation.

The thing about Karasuno is that to be honest, Karasuno’s academic expectations were a bit strict.

You have to wear your uniform when taking tests. And she had a natural hatred against the uniform. And she was just naturally forgetful. So, when the testing season comes around she ends up in a predicament.

The class was clearing out, and Daichi sat at his desk, reviewing some volleyball notes since he had a free period next class.

“Hey, Daichi.” She had a few classes with the brown-haired volleyball captain. Naturally, she became acquaintances with the boy.

“Oh, hi.” Daichi has never been one to be flustered, especially with the pressure of having to stay calm as a captain.

Something about her made him feel all bubbly inside. Like the way Nishinoya acted when he received a difficult serve. Or how Suga felt when he was called in to be the setter. His feeling was likely the same as Hinata’s when he could finally land a quick attack.

“So, I’ve got an important question for you.” She pondered if Daichi would care to even listen to her. She was never truly close with him, but his demeanor comforted her. She is sure that he also made other people feel that way.

“I might just have an answer.” Daichi shifted his body to face her. That’s when he noticed it. She wasn’t wearing the uniform, she was wearing a pair of black slacks and an oversized lilac blouse.

The bell rang out for students to head to their next class. At the sound, she turned visibly distressed. She set her hands on Daichi’s shoulders, forcing him to make eye contact with her. Daichi swallowed thickly, he had never been this close to her before and it was making his body burst spots of heat dotting up his neck.

“Quick! Switch shirts with me so I can take my test!”

Daichi swore he could just faint.

“You want me, to-to switch shirts, wi-with you?” Daichi choked out. The words felt like peanut butter in his mouth, sticking to his teeth.

“Yes. And my math test is starting soon. So well, strip.” She felt her face heat up. Maybe asking Daichi to help her with something like this would finally overtake tripping her toddler cousin as the worst experience of her life.

“Oka-okay.” Daichi stood up and reached behind him to tug on the collar of his shirt. She quickly turned around, covering her face with her hand.

“Here.” Daichi slid his black shirt off and onto the desk. Crossing his arms, he turned around so she could take off her shirt.

Soon, she was sitting in her math class wearing a large shirt that smelt strongly of volleyball and evergreen. And she knew that Sawamura Daichi would never be getting this uniform shirt back unless he happened to try and pry it from her cold dead hands.

Daichi sat wearing the tight purple blouse and covering his face in embarrassment. At least he was alone in the classroom.

Sugawara was looking for his best friend, and after looking around the gym, he figured his best bet was to go to Daichi’s class. And when he saw his best friend in the blouse he just knew that this was a prime example of the lengths he would go to.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here. Daichi, where’d you get the shirt? I might want one of my own.” Suga tapped his chin with his pointer finger.

“Stop it.” Daichi turned and faced his best friend. “I’m doing a favor.”

“The things you do for love.” Daichi shrugged.

When school was over, Daichi and his shirt thief met in his classroom.

“Thanks, for everything. I mean it.” She picked at the rim of the shirt, “Most people wouldn’t even think of doing that.”

Daichi put a hand behind his head, messing his hair up. But she still thought he looked great.

“Well, I guess I’m not most people then. Because I would do it all over again.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Do you want your shirt back?” She offered, feeling slightly upset at losing the piece of Daichi she had grown attached to.

“I have plenty of others. You can keep that one.“ Daichi cringed, realizing just words made him sound like he didn’t want back something she had touched. “Unless you don’t want it that is.”

“Oh, I want this shirt. Daichi, you can keep my blouse. I was meaning to get rid of it anyway.”

“I think I look pretty good, Purple is kinda my color, don’t ya think?”

The pair laughed and kept joking about the situation until Daichi had to go to practice.

Wearing the blouse.

And she walked home with a couple of her friends.

Wearing the uniform top.

“Hinata, how much of that did you see?” Daichi rubbed his eyelids in exasperation.

Hinata always managed to be in the wrong place at just the wrong time. He had seen the shirt exchange and heard the conversation post-shirt exchange.

“Well, um, I honestly didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation with that girl. I just wanted you to give me a few critiques on how to improve my defense.” Hinata jumped up and down trying to explain his side of the story.

“Hinata. I will not hesitate to tell Kageyama not to throw you any more balls.”

Hinata saluted Daichi and marched off to where Kageyama was warming up.

Daichi smiled to himself, looking down at the blouse before changing into his jersey. Carefully folding the blouse he put it into his sports duffel bag.

“Okay! Let’s get started!” Daichi clapped his hands bringing all attention to him.

That wasn’t quite the end of his time with her. Kiyoko made sure of that. She had had enough of Daichi retelling the same story about her friend, she ended up cleverly crafting a solution. At least this way, there would be a new story to hear.

She honestly didn’t know what compelled her to accept Kiyoko’s offer. It was her massive crush on Sawamura Daichi doing all the talking and agreeing.

“Wait? You want to go, in place of me, with Daichi to the sports festival?” Kiyoko hesitantly holds out the packet to be filled out for the Festival Participants. (Kiyoko contemplated her potential in taking an acting class.)

“Yeah, sure! What’s the worst that could happen?” She gave a toothy grin and happily took the packet from Kiyoko.

“I would have Yachi go, but she promised to help Hinata and Kageyama study. And I’m busy trying to get some documents filed away for the Volleyball Club’s next training camp.” Kiyoko lets out a sigh but quickly recomposes herself.

“The sports festival can’t be that bad! All the captains go with their oldest manager and compete in games for a fundraiser, simple as that.” She felt confident in her ability to do the games. They were straightforward and made her want to participate instead of just watching them happen.

“As simple as it seems, I’m just letting you know now, Daichi has a fierce passion for victory.” Kiyoko shivered and then shook her head, “It is unparalleled. So you might want to start conditioning yourself sooner rather than later.”

After bidding the gorgeous girl farewell, she went home.

She inspected her teeth in the mirror, before speaking the words that had been rumbling around in her brain. “Daichi can’t be that bad. Can he?” Scratching her head, and putting the matter to the side.

When the month had finally passed, it was now the day of the official Karasuno Sports Festival Fundraiser.

She had worn what Kiyoko had given her, a simple t-shirt with Volleyball printed on the back in a bold font, and a pair of orange shorts with black stripes down the sides. Pulling her hair up, someone tapped her shoulder.

Sawamura Daichi. Volleyball Captain. Perfect male specimen. And of course, the only boy to ever grasp her attention for longer than a week.

“Nice to see you again Daichi.” She shook the hand that he outstretched for her.

“When Kiyoko told me that you were going to be taking her place, I was pretty excited.” Daichi admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“When Kiyoko asked me to take her place I was excited too! I’ve always wanted to be in the Sports Festival, but it just never worked out.”

“Well, I earnestly hope you and I can properly represent the Volleyball club.” Daichi began to stretch, she mimicked his motions.

To be frank, she was glad that the boy's outfits were what they were. A t-shirt with sleeves stopping at the end of the shoulder, and shorts cropped at the mid-thigh.

If Daichi was being frank, he was worried. He kept thinking about the conversation he had with Kiyoko a month ago.

“Are you sure this will work?” Daichi didn’t plan on Kiyoko taking it upon herself to get him alone with his shirt thief.

“Of course it will. She is undeniably the most helpful girl I know. She wouldn’t hesitate to take my spot.” Kiyoko kept sweeping the gym floor as Daichi paced back and forth in front of the entrance. The cold morning air slightly relaxed him.

“But won’t she get curious about Yachi not taking your place, I mean if you can’t go, it would make the most sense for Yachi to go instead?”

“I got it covered. Daichi, you got this. Just don’t overwhelm her. A fundraiser has the word ‘fun’ in it after all.”

“Who told you that one?” He knew full well that Tanaka had been saying lines like that all week.

“It doesn’t matter. Just, wait. You have a month to memorize any icebreakers that you want to use. She’s an easygoing person, just have a good time.” Kiyoko explained. She thought that Daichi was going to accidentally drive himself insane from all the thinking he was doing.

“So, what’s your favorite color?” Daichi offered as the pair started walking to the first event.

“Let me think.” She tapped her chin before raising her finger into the air to imitate a lightbulb moment. “Black. And you?”

“Oh, definitely black.” Daichi had asked for conversational advice from Suga, who said that Daichi should try and find a lot of common ground between the two.

“Really? That’s cool! We have the same favorite color.” She felt relieved that Daichi was trying to keep talking to her, even if it seemed choppy and somehow memorized.

“First event, three-legged race. We just have to stay in front of the track team. Got it?” Daichi picked up the rope from the equipment table.

“The track team? Aren’t they supposed to be fast? Because it’s, well, it’s the track team.” She pouted and wrung her fingers in nervous excitement.

“Sure they’re fast, but they probably aren’t as good at communication. We are.” Daichi explained while tying the rope onto his right leg and her left leg.

The pairs had begun lining up at the starting line. The red track looped around the soccer field, and they needed to run one lap. She thought back on all the times she made excuses in gym class to get out of running the mile. Maybe she should’ve done conditioning like Kiyoko suggested.

They won the three-legged race.

And they just kept winning things.

The egg toss, (Daichi named the egg, and she kept it in her bag for the entire festival.)

The paintball competition, (When they had won Daichi hugged her and lifted her up into the air. After realizing this, he turned red. But she took a paintball and broke it, painting her cheeks with two stripes of orange, then doing the same to Daichi.)

The speed eating, (As it turns out Daichi was allergic to the type of pancake flour used, but he still was able to beat out the wrestling team. She got to use an EpiPen for the first time on another person. It was a bad decision for him to eat the pancakes. “But hey! We still won”, Daichi had exclaimed.)

Throughout the day, Daichi found it easier to hold a conversation with her. And even though Kiyoko had warned her about his scary determination to win, she found it completely adorable. Especially when they won a game and Daichi let out a loud “Yes!” and pumped his fists.

At the end of the day, it was a victory for everyone involved.

The principal started a dramatic drumroll to announce the winner.

Daichi had reached out and gripped her hand tightly. The sounds of people hitting their hands make a rumbling drumroll blocking out any other noise.

“Are you nervous we won’t win?” She asked because that seemed to be the only reason why Daichi would be holding her hand. She could feel the calluses from receiving volleyballs against her hand. She tried her best to get her voice loud enough so that Daichi could hear her amongst the drumrolls.

“Nope. I know we’re going to win. I just wanted to hold your hand.” Daichi gave her a blinding smile. The kind that made the rain stop falling, the sun shine more brightly, and the kind to make her fall harder than before.

“Volleyball Club!”

The crowd burst into applause, and Daichi could see his team going crazy in the stands.

Nishinoya had started jumping up on Tanaka’s shoulders. Asahi was crying. Suga was doing an encouraging dance with Ennoshita and Yamaguchi. Even Tsukishima had an upturned smirk.

When the field was cleared out, they sat in the middle of the field basking in the sunset. Daichi had offered to walk her home earlier, but she had insisted on them watching the sunset.

The way the sun faded from view, painting the sky in streaks of reds, oranges, and yellows, then blending into purples and blues, was the way that Daichi felt. The colors mixed so perfectly and satisfyingly that he wanted to sit there forever with her next to him.

“Daichi.”

“Yeah?”

“I am aching.” She moved her arms like they were noddles, earning a low laugh in return.

“Me too.”

“Daichi. Do you think it was a bad decision that I ended up being at the sports festival with you and not Kiyoko?” She didn’t want to bring down the mood with her negativity, but she wanted to know the truth. If Kiyoko would’ve been a better partner than her. Even though the answer might hurt her, she wanted to know.

“I have made a lot of bad decisions today, but spending my time with you was not one of them,” Daichi confessed. And in one quick motion, he took hold of her hand once again. And he swore he wouldn’t ever let go.

[iamnot-crazy]

Stowaway Chapter 2

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Info: This is my first time posting a story on Tumblr and my first time writing a x reader.

Summary:

The reader is a slave to a nobleman due to her devil's fruit ability which allows her to control the emotions of the people around her. She flees to bump into Trafalgar Law and boards his ship.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

A month has passed since you joined the crew and it has been the best month of your life. While the crew was extremely orderly and clean when the captain was around the moment he turned his back they turned into a silly band of pranksters. Despite the captain's serious nature, everyone knows he has the devilish personality of a prankster and retaliates with his pranks whenever one is enacted upon him but will deny it was ever him. 

You have solidified your role as the crew's therapist who everyone goes to when they need an ear which you are happy to lend. You haven't used your powers once on anyone unless it was for a medical reason in which you will put them to sleep so as far as everyone on board is aware your power is to make people fall asleep. You try to offer your ability to law whenever they are forming plans to take on enemies but he will only use it to put people to sleep to keep up with the illusions the crew have placed upon themselves. 

Law is also the only person who knows your secret so you continue to take showers in the dead of night to hide your tattoo until one day Law stood in your path. He stood right outside his office waiting for you to make your normal path to the shower room after everyone was asleep, "Why do you sneak off to the showers every night?" He asked when he spotted you. the glow from his office illuminated his figure but hid his facial expression. 

You paused startled at his appearance in the hall. "I uh like my peaceful showers." You lie looking away from him. 

He just hummed and gestured for you to follow him into his office to which you complied. His office was a mess covered with paperwork and opened books. You could barely find his desk under the stacks of books and the floor was not any clearer but had a path leading to the desk. He sat in his chair, "So are you going to tell me the truth?" he asked crossing his legs and putting his chin in his hands awaiting a response. 

"I have a mark I don't want anyone to see." You admitting. 

He nodded, "May I see?" You blushed the tattoo was on your hip and if you were to show him you would have to unzip your uniform and reveal more than you wished. "It's your slave mark isn't it?" He asked when he noticed you blushing. You nod but do not make any moves to reveal the mark. "Y/N I am a doctor I have seen a lot worse, can you show me?" 

Realizing your captain is correct and persistent you unzip your suit revealing your bra and unzip it down to your waist where the red tattoo was with a dot with three triangles around it sat on your hip. "A celestial dragon mark??" He commented reaching out for the tattoo with shock and horror. You flinched away at the words and went to cover it up. He looked up at your expression to see it shift to horror and your eyes become red. He is surprised no one else noticed your eyes shift color when feeling intense emotions like now but then again the rest of the crew probably isn't looking at your eyes as much as he does. 

"it's ok." he assured grabbing your waist and pulling you back, "He can't hurt you anymore." He pulled back the uniform looking at the tattoo again, "Do you want me to remove it?" 

You froze at the thought, You have seen other freed slaves cover their marks by burning the sun pirate logo over it but removing it you wanted nothing more than to be rid of your past. You looked over at your captain trembling while you nodded your head unable to get the words out. 

He grabbed your hand reassuringly and helped you zip your uniform back up while your arms shook, "Let's go to the medical room where it is a bit more sterile." He said and held your hand while he guided you to the medical room the place you crashed when you first boarded. He grabbed you by the hips and placed you on the medical table before turning to his tools. "get undressed while I get my supplies," he ordered with his back turned.

You shakily pull the zipper of your uniform down and leave it sitting just above your knees. You looked over at the tattoo and all the horrible memories it held until a hand was placed on top of it. The inky hand of your captain. "Do you want to hold my hand?" He asked still covering the tattoo with one hand and holding his other hand out for you which you placed your gloved hand into. "Your real hand." You shook your head knowing your current emotions were intense, "I can handle it, let me share it." He slipped off your glove before placing his hand into your own his eyes immediately filled with tears but he took a breath and sucked them in looking bravely into your eyes to inspire you to do the same.

Still holding your hand he cleans the tattoo with an alcohol wipe before saying, "Room," and you were surrounded by the blue dome of his devil fruit, "Scaple" He used his power to painlessly remove the ink that stained you skin, he kept repeating "Scaple" until there was no more red ink inside of you.

You looked down to see your bare skin and a wave of relief came over you, years of torture seemed to have vanished. You smiled widely with tears in your eyes as you met your captain's eyes who mimicked your expression with an unfitting smile. The most you have seen your captain smile is the devilish smirk he gives when he gains the upper hand in battle or a prank. Your smile turns into laughter at his face and his smile grows more. It wasn't until Law looked down at your bare body that you became flustered and quickly pulled your hand away, your eyes shifted Pink and your face turned red. 

Law instantly turned his face away from yours and turned around. "It's gone now you don't need to sneak off in the middle of the night just for a shower." He coughed keeping his face away as you zip your uniform back up and jumped off the table. 

You walk over to your captain place a small kiss on his cheek and whisper a thank you before walking out the room and to your bed. As you closed the door your back hit the wall and you looked down at your hand that flustered feeling was not your own you could tell. Your ability seemed to have evolved again and this time you could feel your captain's emotions and it was one of arousal.

In the medical room, Law sat with his head in his hands blushing tremendously. 

***

A week had passed and you and your captain didn't speak about the interaction again and he tried to avoid looking at you still trying to decipher if the feeling he had that night was his own.

The crewmates started to notice your comfort levels around them rising now taking showers in the morning still before everyone else had woken but no longer afraid of someone walking in. You also now change into your pajamas with Ikkaku instead of insisting on going to sleep in your uniform. And your fear of tearing your uniform during battle has decreased once you dodge a knife causing it to tear your uniform revealing your mid-drift but confidently continued to fight Law looked intensely at the bare skin where the tattoo was admiring his work as he would say.

But one con arrived with your new-found confidence and that is that you don't walk past Law's office every night allowing him to listen to the small pitter-patter of your steps. One night he was sitting at his desk staring at the door waiting to hear the pitter-patter that he knew would never come. He sighed closing his book ready to call it a night when he heard that familiar sound. the steps stopped at his door and was followed by a soft knock on the door. "Come in." He said as calmly as he could. The door opened slowly revealing you in the doorway. "y/n, how can I help you" he said pretending to be surprised that it was you who had entered.

"Something has been bothering me since the other night," You said walking into the room. Law heartrate jumped thinking you meant the feelings he shared that night.  

You walked in and shuffled some books out of the way of the floor so you could sit in the corner facing him, "How did you know that I was walking to the showers every night after everyone has gone to sleep?" you asked.

Law released a breath and his heart rate returned, "Because you would walk past my office every night."

"But sometimes I would go at 3 in the morning." You stated.

Law just shrugged, "And?"

You shook your head at the insomniac captain of yours, "When do you sleep I always see you at the bridge first thing in the morning."

Law sighed, "Sleeping does not come easy for me," He admitted. 

"Would you like me to help with that?" You asked.

Law shook his head, "I promised you that I would never ask you to use your powers." 

"For anything, I don't want to." You cut him off defiantly, "I want to help you with this."

Law's head snapped at you in surprise, he will admit he has been thinking about the day you calmed him with your powers for a while and that night he was able to get the best sleep he had since he was a child. He searched your eyes to see a beautiful purple of determination and conviction. He was not going to be able to change your mind. He sighed in defeat, "Feeling calm for once would be nice." 

You jumped up in celebration, you removed your glove to reveal the 5 dots shining a color grey and held it up which Law returned by placing his hand on top of yours and instantly relaxed his shoulders and felt the wave of calmness dance over him. You held your hand with him for a full minute to allow the full effects of your feel fruit to take over him and last through the night. 

When you removed your hand he took a deep relaxing breath looking up and smiling at you thankfully. "Thank you, Y/N. Let's go to bed." He got up and opened the door for the two of you turning off the lights. He placed his hand on your back as he guided you back to the bunks thanking you once more before turning to head toward his room where he fell on his bed and immediately fell asleep with no thought swarming his brain. 

The next morning the entire crew noticed their captain in a happier state giving everyone a day off on the beach of the island they just landed on. No one questioned it and quickly took advantage of their day of play. The crew decided to sport the swimwear that they picked up at the last town they went to and have a fun beach day. Law could not keep his eyes off you confidently revealing your stomach.

***

Next Chapter

[hopepaigeturner]

i was just thinking about the absolute chaos there would be at the umbrella academy once they all come back with everything that has happened

people reconciling, couples who have just reunited, people who just found out the person they were pining over has feelings for them, couples now having children together

i think it would be interesting and funny to see what happens after everything, when they can finally relax in their rooms but they have to also go through the situations they are now in and their emotions and of course everything is amplified since they’re all in the same building

Oh boy, oh boy, indeed. Not to mention that there was no time to properly reunite/process everything because they all had to fight for their lives against an evil scientific corporation before finally travelling back to their present.

It means that everything is utterly chaotic. Eloise married Phillip and adopted super-powered twins? Francesca and Michael are together and somehow Michael is stone cold sober? And he’s finally grieved John? Benedict and Sophie are finally back together—but what about the fact that Benedict has spent the last three years of his life dangling off the edge of reality? And Penelope? Has everyone forgiven her? Technically she has yet to formally apologise…

And what about Anthony? It’s all Kate can think about as everyone celebrates the return with wearied relief, all of them corralling after Simon suggests a celebratory drink. (Apart from Benophie who discreetly tip toe away to...reconnect). For even as she watches Anthony mutter sweet nothings into Neddy’s ear to calm him—how can she forget the abject terror on Anthony’s face upon their meeting? What could Anthony be afraid of?

“Anthony, we need to talk,” Kate whispers as they walk together. Anthony looks guilty, eyes hesitant until his features fall into…shame? “Anthony what is it?”

Anthony swallows thickly and looks up, just about to speak when—

“What the hell?” Gareth cries walking into the lounge, noticing a complete change of décor—from the paintings to the carpet. Everyone else shuffles in.

Suddenly the doors slam shut on their own accord.

“Francesca!” someone calls before Francesca is swept up into a passionate kiss from—John Stirling. John Stirling who still has his torso intact. John Stirling who is alive.

 When he pulls away from Francesca he gushes,

“Oh thank goodness my love, I am so glad they did not find you.” He goes in for another kiss but Francesca pulls away.

“John?” Lucy asks.

“You can see him too?” Michael asks walking forward, eyes wide and shivering. “Is it really you?”

John turns and his face pales.

“Michael how? When? What?”

A clatter is heard in the distance and John curses.

“You need to leave, Frannie—all of your siblings need to leave.” His eyes sweep around the other figures, barely registering them. “You know how much they want vengeance—but don’t worry we’ll be married soon.” John looks down and spots the Stirling ring already on Francesca’s finger but behind it is a different engagement ring. “What the—”

“What the hell is going on!” Hyacinth cries, just as a jet of liquid splatters onto Simon.

“That’s what I would like to know.”

They all turn and look up, mouths agape.

There, in familiar looking uniforms are six figures—the insignia on the uniforms might be strange, but those wearing it are the furthest thing from strangers.

“John,” Edwina says, crossing her arms, “How the hell are our siblings back from the dead?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As always very open to any other asks, for some reaosn this AU just won't leave me alone in the best way!

Also creds to @bridgertonbabe for starting this AU.

[sukirichi]

— just the two of us

request: I almost read all of your jujutsu kaisen writings and I love it. Your writing is really good! I do not know if a request about a fics🥞 about satoru gojo who is really in love and not very possessive with an oblivious reader. It will be fun to see Satoru try to flirt with her and she doesn't get it🤣

pairings: gojo x oblivious! reader

notes: THIS IDEA IS SO CUTEEE I absolutely loved every second of writing it! thank you for the request and I hope you like this! 🥞 breakfast has been served!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none, other than this is unedited and written humorously rather than seriously~

masterlist !

Gojo doesn’t know whether he’s lucky – or completely cursed – over the fact you’ve got no idea he’s so in love with you.

It’s a bright sunny morning, perfect for outdoor training, and he walks with you all the way to school with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. You stretch your arms out in the sky to bask in the morning glow and warmth of the sun, sleeves pushed up to your forearms to “get that vitamin D.”

Satoru snickers at your statement, because you’d totally be getting a different kind of Vitamin D if only you’d notice him. Sometimes he wonders, if maybe you’d inherited the Six Eyes instead of him, would you finally be able to see him – or would you still remain unaware?

He doesn’t even know where it began. A year ago, Yaga introduced you as the newest staff member. You’d been so fidgety and nervous then, unsure of what to do and worried if maybe the kids wouldn’t love. They did, of course, how could they not. Not only were you extremely fun to be with, you’re also caring, fretting and even crying whenever one of the students got injured over a mission.

Shoko reminds you all the time that this should be normal for you by now, but you always cry every time, sobbing that they’re still only kids and should be out having fun.

Yeah, maybe that’s where it began. Your kindness struck a chord in Satoru’s heart, and before he knew it, he was falling for you. Hard. Next thing you know, he shows up five minutes before you leave for work, mock-saluting you before inviting you to breakfast. He does this every damn day, and you still don’t get a single thing.

“That café was really good,” you muse, fingers stretching outwards and giggling as the sun peeks through the spaces. Satoru sighs beside you, wanting nothing more than to slip his fingers through those softer ones. “We should go back there sometime. Maybe even take the kids with us this weekend so we can all have breakfast together!”

Satoru masks a snicker with a cough. It reminds him of the time Megumi called you mom and dad by accident, to which you happily responded with before tackling the boy in hugs, while the strongest jujutsu sorcerer only flushed in embarrassment.

Him being him though, Satoru played it off cool, flipping his hair before striking a pose. “Huh, a dad?” he smirks, “The only person who gets to call me daddy would be no one else but Y/N.”

The raven haired first year student immediately recoils in disgust. Meanwhile, the innuendo flies straight through you, and you peer up at him innocently with your head tilted to the side. “Daddy? Why would I call you my dad? My father is still alive and well, and I don’t see you marrying my mom or anything,” Just as Megumi nearly howls in laughter – another evidence that you’re really something else to get the usually stoic boy to lose his composure like that – you snap your fingers, the light bulb above your head practically shining. “Oh, I get it! You prefer younger women and you want them to call you that! Kind of like the hype for onii-chan nowadays.”

Hopeless, Satoru wants to say, you’re absolutely, utterly hopeless.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Satoru shrugs nonchalantly, sending a smirk your way. It usually drives everyone crazy, but you only smile back up at him in the same way you smile with everyone, and he tries his best to not show his shoulders are deflating. Nevertheless, he doesn’t give up. “How about you and I go out somewhere this weekend? The movies, perhaps?”

Say yes, say yes – please say yes.

Really though, he’s waiting for that ‘no’ already. Satoru knows you always go out of town during the weekends to visit your family in the countryside, only coming back on Monday the next week with a basket of fruits and traditional goods that isn’t so easy to find in the city.

But then you clasp your hands together in excitement, lashes fluttering delicately as you beam up at him. “Really? You’d like to go to the movies with me?”

“Of course I would,” Satoru tries not to stutter, hiding the fact that he’s completely taken aback. He’s the Gojo Satoru for heaven’s sake, he shouldn’t be this affected by anyone’s presence. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want to?”

“Oh, nothing, I just thought you were busy. This Saturday, then?”

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, it’s actually happening – his mind was barely functioning at this point, and he even slapped his cheeks to snap him back to life. “I thought there was a fly,” he lied with a chuckle, “But yeah, Saturday. I’ll pick you up?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Satoru wouldn’t stop smiling the whole way to the school. Even when Yuuji had face planted into the ground and Megumi sprained his ankle from training, he wasn’t able to get rid of the ridiculously big smile that stretched across his lips. He’s floating in cloud nine, flowers erupting from his ears and heart-shaped emojis bursting in his background.

“Well, you look creepy,” Shoko commented in the faculty room the moment you excused yourself, “Did you land a date with her or something?”

“That I did,” he stated proudly, even banging his fist on his chest like a deranged form of King Kong.

“I can only hope Y/N makes it out alive,” Nanami announces from behind the newspaper he’s reading, legs crossed over another before he peeks above the paper, narrowed eyes dead set on the blindfolded man. “Don’t be too wild with her, Satoru. She’s a gentle soul despite being a sorcerer – I humbly suggest you don’t mess with her feelings.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s the one messing with my feelings by being so fucking cute all the time!”

“Who’s cute?”

Shoko nearly spits out her coffee the moment you enter, glancing around the room and sitting down next to a shock-still Satoru. Nanami only huffs in his seat with a shake of his head. It doesn’t take long before Satoru regains his confidence and recovers from his shock – he’s turned to you with his torso completely facing your way.

You bask in the attention, mimicking the gesture until your faces are mere inches from one another. The fact you’re so responsive and attentive to him yet still painfully naïve strikes a mental war of himself debating whether he wants to kiss you or knock your head upside down. Satoru chooses neither options as he leans closer, his smile growing wider when you don’t pull away, and he doesn’t stop moving until his lips are right beside the shell of your ear.

“You’re cute.”

Shoko shudders at the same time Nanami just gives up on everything, folding his paper and lying that he’s got someplace to go with Ichiji. Satoru patiently waits for your reaction; for you to crumble this time around.

You’re silent for a moment, brows almost right across each other when you register his words. Satoru ends up holding his breath for your next words, wondering: is this it? will she finally understand what I feel for her now?

Even Shoko ends up sitting at the edge of her seat, silently watching the exchange with interest barely hidden in her sparkling eyes. Satoru watches as your lips open, his eyes transfixed on the way the soft flesh moves. They tilt upwards, revealing a set of a wide smile – the smile he can never get enough of. “Thank you!” you giggle at his compliment, “You and Shoko are very cute too! And the kids too, especially Toge! Not that I’m saying he’s my favourite—”

“He’s definitely your favourite student,” snorts Shoko who is ignoring the way Satoru turns completely gray beside you.

It turns out you still haven’t figured it out after all.

“The kids this – the kids that,” the tall, lanky man whines, his head falling back on the back of the leather couch. He looks so utterly defeated you can’t help but lean over him to check if he’s okay, but Satoru pouts and hides his face under his uniform instead. “Why can it never be just the two of us?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

This time, you’ve kneeled on the couch to hover him. You even pluck one side of his blindfold off to see how he’s doing, and suddenly thankful you can’t see the way his cheeks are absolutely flaming right now. 

“Nothing,” he assures, his smile hidden behind his shirt. You look absolutely adorable hovering over him like that – eyes wide and lips pouty – what he wouldn’t give to kiss those lips right now, but it isn’t the right time, and Satoru just needs to find a better way to tell you how he feels. “It’s nothing.”

It’s absolutely not nothing.

Saturday couldn’t come faster.

Satoru finds himself willing time to go faster. Once the awaited day finally comes, he wastes no time in choosing his best outfit; an oversized black shirt tucked into black skinny jeans before styling his hair up the way he likes.

He winks at his reflection in the mirror, going ooh and aah at how hot he looks. It’s another reason why he can’t comprehend why you don’t like him yet, when, uhm, he knows he looks damn good? He’s pretty funny too – and his strength and power is already a no-brainer. Satoru can’t wrap his head around any possible reason why you wouldn’t like him; it’s basically a life or death mission at this point.

With that end goal in his mind and a spritz of perfume later, Satoru sashays out his apartment. Even though it’s already dark outside and he spent the whole day walking back and forth in his room trying to come up with ways to confess to you, he acts coolly all the way to your apartment.

This time around, he’s more than confident. He’s going to have you wrapped around his pretty little finger, “Wow,” is the first thing he says, pulling his blindfold down just to look at you.

Satoru feels blessed in that exact moment to witness how the heavens took their time with you, creating only the best out of the best and birthing the most magnificent person ever. Suddenly, he grows an urge to run to the countryside and thank your parents for going funky one night and creating you, because you’re an absolutely magnificent gift and it really baffles him how you’re real.

“Wow,” he repeats again, and you chuckle when he shakes his head. “You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you look him up and down, smiling in satisfaction. “You look very handsome yourself.”

Satoru’s been called handsome a million times before that it’s gotten too much in his head already, but hearing it come from your lips hits different. If he was excited before, it’s nothing compared to what he feels now when you loop your arm through his, dangling off his arm like you were a lover.

He knows it’s not real and this is probably just a friendly date for you – something he intends to clear up later – but it doesn’t stop him from puffing his chest up a bit, almost as if bragging to everyone around you that he was the one you’re with, and that he was the one you’re going to the movies with.

All your babbles about everything goes straight into one ear and out the other. He wants to listen to you, he really does, but he’s so intoxicated with your voice that he just ends up nodding at everything you say; his attention mostly on how sweet you sound and smell.

His feelings only intensify a hundred times more when you finally make it to the theatre. Not only is it dark, but you’re sitting right next to him, arms and thighs brushing against each other. He takes note of every little movement you make, smiling to himself when you don’t pull away from his thigh flush against yours.

In this close proximity, your perfume overwhelms his senses. He finds himself leaning closer just to get a little more taste of it, his arm resting on the armrest beside him and placing his cheek on his open palm.

He doesn’t even know what the movie is about. All he can see, hear, feel and recognize is you – nothing and no one but you. Just as he wanted, it’s just the two of you.

Satoru reaches out to the bowl of popcorn in his lap to distract himself from the need of kissing you already. He was so smug that he’s on this date with you; now he feels like the world is laughing and mocking at him because you’re so close yet so far away. The last thing he wants is to say something weird and have you running for the hills. It’s clear you don’t like him, after all.

You end up reaching for it the same time he does, making your fingers brush. It sends a jolt of electricity down his spine and he immediately retracts it.

Looking up at him with an apologetic smile, Satoru knows he’s messed up. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender with a nervous chuckle. “I should’ve gotten my own bowl instead.”

Satoru stares at you through his blindfold. You’re close enough that he can count your lashes – both top and bottom row – and he’s so stupefied at this point that he just says the first thing that comes to his mind; absolutely anything just to get your attention. “Cold,” he shows you his hand, “I’m cold.”

“Oh,” you nod and slip your fingers through his. Satoru nearly gasps at how electrifying the sensation is from having your smaller, softer fingers collide with his, your hands fitting perfectly in his bigger, calloused ones. Then, you close your intertwined hands and smush your cheek with it to transfer your heat – completely unaware that Satoru feels like he’s floating in his own Infinite Void right now. “Feel warmer now?”

“Yes,” he replies. “Extremely.”

Something beast-like wakes within him after that. Now that he knows you don’t mind touching him at all, Satoru can’t help but want to take out all his playing cards and just go fuck it. So he does – and he might regret, he might not – who cares? It’s just the two of you, and you’re the only one he ever cares about this much that he’d pretty much let you do anything at this point.

“You know,” Satoru begins, shifting until your joined hands are resting on top of his chest. His heart is just about ready to burst through its confines at this moment, but he holds back. It’s now or never. “Shoko and Nanami are annoyed that I talk about you all the time.”

Your eyes widen at his statement. “Really? Do you talk badly about me or something?”

“No,” he nearly groans in frustration, “You’re really pretty and cool. You’re amazing during missions, too, when you fight, it’s like I’m witnessing a warrior princess. So cool.”

This makes you laugh until the person sitting behind you rudely shushes you. You bow your head in apology, turning to Satoru with a softer smile this time; one that looks reserved and private compared to your big grins. “Oh, no,” he closes his eyes even behind his blindfold, “Don’t smile at me like that. I don’t think I’ll still be cool if I end up stuttering over my words.”

“Satoru!” you whisper-hiss, although your chest is filled with so much giddiness too that you’ve both forgotten about the movie; unaware that the entire theatre was crying over the main character’s friend’s death. “What are you going on about?”

He wants to laugh so damn hard. He thought confessing his feelings for you would end up in a pitiful heartbreak that you’d be weirded out and push him away. For a moment, he forgets it’s you, and that nothing is ever difficult or painful with you – other than, of course, you being oblivious, but that isn’t something he can’t fix. He’ll get you on the train one way or another.

“I have a confession.”

“Yeah?”

“I was practicing how to ask you out for a whole hour in the mirror,” Satoru whispers, careful to not ruin the melancholic mood of theatre. It doesn’t even surprise him that his world is filled with nothing but sunshine even if the world around you has descended into grief and loneliness. “I also called Nanami on first date tips.”

“Nanami?” you echo with a gasp, “Why Nanami?”

“Because he’s married, that’s why. Mans know some tips for sure.”

“Wait, so,” you chuckle nervously, and Satoru waits, waits for you to pull away or push him back – anything that would indicate discomfort. He’s patient the whole time, watching carefully as you only squeeze his hand and gesture to the both of you with your free one. “This is a date? Our first date?”

“Only if you want to be,” Satoru shrugs, grimacing afterwards at how sappy he sounds. “Well, I actually consider this our first date and I’ve been waiting for this for like forever now, so I sure as hell hope you want this too. I didn’t dress myself up today only to come back home crying.”

Satoru’s heart – if possible – only beats crazier and sings the syllables of your name when you start laughing harder to the point you have to muffle it by burying yourself in his bicep. He feels like his muscles and nerves could erupt at any moment. It’s crazy – absolutely insane – how you have him wrapped around your finger like this. He doesn’t complain though; he never will.

“I’m glad,” you mumble through his shirt, your erratic heartbeat matching kiss when you take the first tentative step of kissing his jaw.

Satoru stiffens underneath you, a low growl ripping from his throat. He’s feral, wild, drunk at the sight and scent of you. You make him feel like he’s fluctuating between dimensions, all the planets just crashing on one another until the stardust is left in your eyes because what else could be an explanation for what he’s feeling other than a supernova collision of hearts?

“You always make me feel so happy when you’re around that I still can’t believe you feel the same way. I was so worried that maybe you wouldn’t get my hints.”

Satoru groans, “What the hell? How long have you liked me?”

“I guess when you started bringing flowers to Megumi randomly just to piss him off.”

Satoru wants to rip his hair out. That was just a few weeks after you’ve started working with him, meaning you both have liked each other this whole time and he’s been suffering and feeling stupid just for nothing?

“God, Y/N,” he mutters to himself, “You really do know how to make a man go crazy, huh?”

That innocent smile on your face lets him know that as usual, you’re oblivious of everything. Satoru is right; he still can’t decide whether he wants to whack you in the head upside down. With a sigh, he ends up choosing the latter, nearly falling over his seat when you let out a surprised yelp at the feeling of his lips on yours.

It doesn’t take long before you grab onto his shirt and cling to dear life, laughter bubbling through your lips as you kiss. The sound is so precious he wants to bottle it up and keep it treasure for the rest of his life, but Satoru doesn’t rush anything.

With you and only with you is he ever capable of feeling like it’s just the two of you in a world filled with chaos and destruction.

[kookieskiwi]

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Shuntaro Chishiya x Fem!Reader x Suguru Niragi

Summary: The borderlands were already dark, they made you numb to death so long as you survived. When you become the object of desire for two psychopathic and sociopathic men, one of which is your ex lover, you find it harder to drown out the emotions you’re feeling and demons you're facing. Do you give into the dark desires and madness? But...aren’t we all already mad here?

Warnings: Explicit language, sexual situations, murder, death, manipulation, psychoanalyses, drugs, alcohol, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, more to be added as I write.

Genre: Alice in Borderland, very dark romance, angst, smut, a little fluff if you squint

Rating: Whoever is mature enough to handle the warnings above but recommended to ages 15 and older. DO NOT read if you are triggered by any of the things listed above.

Word Count: 5k

[Taglist] @bonnyskies @mylifeisafxingmess @kasaikawa @mercipourleslivres @dragoneye01 @bubb1ee-gum@nocturne181 @somegirl29 @pajerita19 @ddaenysus @imagine-t-h-a-ttt @queentorresstuff @rebirth-of-destruction @celestiacq @ryreads @beeissleepy

A note from your author — I’m so sorry this took so long, I just got out for summer vacation after an extremely stressful year so I’ll be way more active now. I have decided (with much hype from @imagine-t-h-a-ttt ) to post this in parts so I could give y’all something in appreciation for dealing with me. Expect more soon!! (It might not be AiB exclusively but I will be writing more)

The borderlands was a place where anyone and everyone was alone for themselves when it came to survival. “It’s every man for themselves,” you’d often tell yourself after a game since you walked away, sometimes alone, and others didn’t. After participating in your first heart’s game you learned that, and it was forever engraved into your mind. When you were cruelly taken from the real world you were alone in your room after your nightly shift as an SDF officer. All of a sudden the lights went out whilst you were changing out of your uniform before a shower which you never got to take. Deciding to investigate the outage, you threw your uniform back on and unbuttoned the jacket revealing your black sleeveless undershirt while keeping your green cargo style uniform pants and combat boots on. After grabbing your knife and placing it into your thigh holster, you explored your neighborhood to find that everyone was gone, cars were randomly in the street as if they had been stopped out of nowhere, and you were in fact alone.

“What the fuck is this?” You whispered to yourself as you were pulling out your phone to contact your friends only to see that it was dead. “Fantastic,” you grumbled, rolling your neck to the side to crack it and relieve the tension. Venturing back to your home you thought over what this could possibly be; an evacuation drill? Maybe a nightmare? Were you daydreaming again? No, this was too real and too strange to be any of those things. You needed to get out of this area, inspect and observe other parts of Tokyo to see what was going on. You thought you could find answers before it turned dark since it was only morning so you rushed home to pack a few things before heading out.

While at home, you grabbed your backpack and in it you put; a change of clothes, three water bottles, pain pills and a few snacks as well as your phone and charger in case you could figure out a way for it to work. In a haste you also threw on your side holster which held your nine millimeter handgun and two packs of ammo for extra precautions. After that, you set out on your search of the city. The first thing you thought of was to get in one of those abandoned vehicles however even though they were full of fuel, they wouldn’t start. “So phones and vehicles don’t work, neither does anything powered by electricity. Great.”

With that newly found information, you stepped out of the vehicle and began the long walk across Tokyo. Along the way you inspected stores, homes and even government buildings but found no trace of anyone but yourself. Where did everyone go? It looked so desolate without the constant buzz of people around walking, the tourists, the neon billboards. Everything was...dead. You spent the entire day walking further into the abandoned city which was once lively yet found nothing other than a restaurant with food which you took the liberty to eat at.

Upon nightfall, you were looking for a place to stay when a billboard lit up drawing your attention to it immediately. “This way to the game arena,” it read with an arrow pointing to the left. Turning your head in that direction you saw an area in the distance brightened by lights while everything else was still surrounded in darkness. “Game arena?” You whispered in confusion. Looking around at your surroundings you didn’t see any other lights other than that building which looked to be about three blocks away. You followed the arrows leading you to the designated arena which looked to be a botanical tea garden from a distance. You slowly approached the building while keeping your hand close to the blade strapped on your thigh in case someone or something appeared. As soon as you stepped across the final set of stairs leading up to the entrance, a line of red lasers appeared and quickly turned blue when a sound similar to that of a confirmation resonated in the area. “What is this?”

“It’s the threshold of the arena.” Turning in the direction of the voice, you saw a familiar face step next to you with the same sound chiming at her entry. “Holyn? How did you get here? Are you okay?” You asked quickly before hugging her out of relife, you were more than happy to see a familiar face in this apocalyptic place. She was your childhood best friend, the only reason you hadn’t seen or heard from her in a while was because of both of your working lives.She hugged you back even tighter as she was feeling the same way you were, scared, alone and confused. When the two of you released each other she began explaining everything she knew to you as the both of you started walking into the garden.

“I got here a few days ago and since then, I’ve asked around to see what others know about whatever the hell is going on. No one knows how we got here or what exactly this place is but everyone is made to participate in games of survival. You must participate or you’ll die. After winning a game, you keep the phone you had and you’ll be supplied with a visa. The visa tells you how long you have until you’re out of time here which is why you have to participate in games to renew it before it runs out. You must win each game, there is no other way to survive if you don’t. Do everything it takes so you live and move on. Anything with an electric circuit board or IC chip does not work whereas analog equipment like radios work and so do older vehicles.” She explained quickly as more people came into view. Your mind fogged with all of the new information, it was so much to take in. Then you realized you were just thrown into a game of survival and like she said; you HAD to win to survive. “But-” you had just begun when she silenced you, “pretend you’ve been here and done this. I know you’re confused and probably scared shitless but just pretend.” She instructed as you both entered the arena and quickly added one thing, “I don’t want to continue playing after this, I killed someone Y/n.” But before you could respond she shook her head and you did as she said, silencing yourself and putting on the facade you had mastered over the years.

Upon entry, you almost immediately noticed the two groups of people to the right each containing about six people and consisting of both males and females and the other group of six men. Gauging their distance to and from each other you could conclude the individuals in each group had played together previously and probably had strategies to compete with. As you and Holyn approached the area the others stood around, you glanced down to the table in front of all of you. ‘One per person’ the sign read with approximately twenty phones laid out beside it. Each of you grabbed a random phone and stepped away from the table into your own spaces, you and Holyn sticking closely together. If everything with a circuit board was destroyed, then why did these phones work? In the middle of your questioning the phone screen lit up with the text ‘facial recognition in progress’ before switching to another screen as you looked at the others subtly to see they were looking around as well.

“Registration has closed,” the phone chimed causing each of you to glance down at the small screen. “There are twenty participants. Game: Queen of cards.”

“Rules,” the automated voice said, “After putting on the designated collars you will be divided into two teams, one team will be the Jacks while the other is the Queen of Hearts. Find the Queen of Hearts, take her phone and find the safe zone. If the Queen is not found, it is game over for the Jacks. If the Queen is found, it is game over for her.”

“Does this mean it’s one girl against the rest of us?” Holyn asked with a small crack in her voice, making hit her as a sign to be quiet and do exactly what she told you to do. The two of you grabbed the collars they had laid out on the table, placing them on your neck after close inspection. You needed to seem like you had done this before, the last thing you needed was to be seen as the weaklings or newbies. “It’s a Hearts game, of course that’s what it means. We are supposed to turn on each other and play with others minds. It makes sense.” A male with his arms crossed over his chest said. He had played before, you could tell. The group of men he came with looked like they had been here for a while based on their appearance and calmness towards the situation.

“What do you mean ‘It’s a heart's game’?” A girl who looked to be about seventeen asked. It was obvious she was new to this like you, however, you weren’t letting anyone know that. “When you see the game card, you know the type of game and the difficulty of it. Heart games are those of psychological torture and betrayal where you mess with your opponents or friends minds and emotions. Diamond games are ones of minds and intelligence, often including solving riddles or puzzles. Clubs are by far the safest there is given they are teamwork and unity games. Spade games are physical, they test your stamina and endurance. The number of the cards tell you the difficulty levels; one being the easiest and ten being the hardest.” Another man explained to the girls. You listened attentively while looking down at your phone noticing this was a six of hearts game. Hearts. There had to be a way to do this without betrayal. But before you could think of anything further you were interrupted by the phone which spoke once more.

“The Queen will have one minute to hide before Jack's time starts, but she wont know she is the Queen until Jack's time begins.” The feminine AI voice instructed once more. The girls were to be hunted by the boys and even if they weren’t the Queen the males wouldn’t know. Even if it was a best friend. You noticed when the others came to the same realization as you as one guy started profusely apologizing to a girl who was shaking. This is a game of survival. “So that means-”

“You girls better run.” It came from one of the men and said with a sinister smirk. All the guys had to do to ensure survival was take our phones and get to the undisclosed safezone. However this was more than that. You saw the weapons on a board in the distance and you knew you weren’t the only one who did. Without a second thought, you grabbed Holyn’s hand and ran as fast as you could to get the farthest from any other person, vividly aware of the knife you still had on your thigh. She quickly followed behind although she didn’t have much of a choice with your iron-like grip on her wrist. After running a sufficient distance from the others you ducked into the shrubbery and crawled towards a dark corner to hide from anyone’s sight. She sat across from you as you both tried to calm your breathing while keeping yourselves hidden from anyone who might pass by. The phone chimed again, “Hiding time is up,” the voice said while a new timer appeared on your phone. “Ten minutes,” it read. An alarm sounded throughout the arena echoing off the walls of the indoor tea garden. “The game will now commence,” you heard just before seeing your screen turn balck temporarily with your role on it.

“Thank goodness, I’m a Jack. You are too right?” Holyn asked as you turned off your phone and looked at her with a smile as her voice echoed in your mind, “you must win each game, there’s no other way to survive,” so you pushed away the dread in your chest and replied “me too.”

No. You were the Queen.

The two of you sat still for about five minutes listening to the shouts and screams of the others until you heard sets of footsteps coming in your direction causing the two of you to duck down onto your stomachs out of fear. In the distance you heard a feminine scream echo off the glass walls followed by shattering sounds and more screams of “I’m not her” or “It’s not me” followed by the sounds of struggles. “Come out come out wherever you are,” one of the men closer to you called. You could tell he was near and if you two didn’t move, he'd find you.”We found the safe zone but none of the girls were queens,” you heard one say, “damnit, if they were still alive they could help us,’ the other commented making your stomach drop. “We need to run,” who whispered to Holyn knowing those men would have no issue killing you to survive. “Three minutes remaining,” the time was announced but you could hardly hear it due to your pulse thudding in your ears.

“Now,” you called quietly queuing the both of you to jump up and run, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the men. “There they are!” One shouted followed by the heavy stomps of footsteps behind you as they set in on the chase. “It’s only the two of you, just give us the phone and you’ll live.” You ignored him and kept sprinting towards the place you knew there were weapons. Without another thought you grabbed two weapons and handed one to Holyn to defend yourselves with until she came to the realization you loathed. “You’ve been the queen this entire time!?” She shouted at you as the stomping sound got closer and closer. “I’m sorry! You said to do anything it takes to survive.” You responded with tears clouding your vision. Never in your life would you have thought you’d be choosing your life over your best friend’s, not when the two of you had gone through everything together. “Two minutes remaining,” the voice announced reminding you of your impending fate. Holyn looked at you with emotions you couldn’t decipher, but you saw the way she relaxed even if it was slight. Why was she glad you chose yourself over her?

“Come on, let’s hide.” She said grabbing your hand and this time, she was the one dragging you along. She veered off to the right pulling you behind a fountain and kept running until the two of you collapsed onto the ground. “Remember when you turned fifteen and we decided to sneak out?” she reminisced laying between your legs against your chest. “Yeah, our parents almost killed us, we were grounded for months.” you giggled despite the tears falling from your eyes. As memories of you both flooded your mind you acted without control and shouted, “Over he--” to let the men know your location but you were interrupted by her hand clasping over your mouth tightly to silence you as she yanked you backwards into the shadows. “Shh,” she whispered, calming you while you sobbed into her hand, “I want you to live on for me, okay? Beat this game, we both know you are the only one who can. I know you can. I’ll be helping you from above if I can.” She soothed laying her head on top of yours.

“One minute remaining”

The tears wouldn’t stop as you moved to hug her tightly, never wanting to let go. “I’m so sorry.” you choked out in between gasps for air. Everything was too much, too loud, time was moving too quickly, you heard the men rapidly shouting and searching for you two as you clung to your best friend. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly, the seconds flew by while you were holding the only person you had left before she was to die. “I’m not. Thank you Y/n, I wouldn’t have made it any further anyways, I’m glad I can help you move forward. Don’t let me die in vain.” She told you kissing the top of your head before roughly pushing you off to get you away from her. “Holyn!” You shouted trying to latch back onto her when suddenly the collar around her neck exploded and her blood splattered everywhere. Your eyes and mouth opened wide in shock at what you had just seen. You could feel the specks of blood all over your face and body while you stared at her now decapitated one lying in front of you. She had just died, and it was because of you, because you were selfish and confused all while being scared.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there in total silence until you just collapsed onto the cold, hard floor beneath your feet. The silence was interrupted by your blood curdling scream of pure agony that echoed throughout the enclosed building. Your head came into contact with the ground when you curled over your knees and screamed once again while grabbing at your hair and banging your forehead against the cement. Tears flowed out of both your eyes as you cried out in horror, unable to rid your mind of the events that just occurred. You screamed until your throat was raw and your voice hoarse, you could feel the clumps of hair you pulled out of your scalp as your fingers dug deeper into your skull and worst of all, you knew you were alone now.

For days, you were numb. Five days to be exact. You didn’t do much but sleep, cry, eat, walk aimlessly to a new location and then repeat it all again the next day. You couldn’t shake the immense feeling of guilt you felt when you woke each morning knowing Holyn wouldn’t because of you. It wasn’t until you played your next game, an eight of spades, that you snapped out of the haze your emotions put you in. During the game, you had to climb a tree fast enough to avoid the arrows being shot at you from below as the height the arrows were shot increased each minute as you ascended the tree. You were ahead of the others until one man decided to start pulling at your ankles to hold you back which eventually turned into him trying to make you lose your grip and fall. In the moment he yanked your body down, you almost completely lost your grip on the branch keeping you from falling. It was then that you realized you weren’t going to let Holyn die in vain, you’d survive and push through everything to honor her memory.

After that, the “acquaintances” you made between or during games never meant much to you because in the end, you could only count on and rely on yourself to ensure your survival. You stopped moping around and became the version of yourself you had always wanted to become, the one that allowed you to turn off your emotions and step away from your chaotic thoughts. You now lived for yourself and yourself only, but even then, you never killed anyone intentionally.

A few days passed by but you couldn’t tell exactly how long you had been in this hell hole. You only played games when it was necessary which was only about two days before your visa expired. After overhearing someone in a two of Spades game talk about a place called “the Beach” and the people there “knowing how to get out here,” you started observing those who played games when you didn’t. It only took a few nights to see the connection between the group of people who entered games with tag numbers on their wrists being the ones who walked out. After you played a couple games with people with the tags on their wrists, you were convinced they knew something about the strategy of the games. Lingering in the shadows, you watched the participants of the game walk out of the arena and head down the street while you quietly followed behind. You must’ve walked for five minutes before you noticed where exactly the group was headed; a vehicle. “But I thought..” you whispered to yourself in confusion seeing them jump into the four seater 1970 cadillac while you stood still in your hidden position wondering what they were doing. Upon hearing the ignition of the engine you remembered Holyn telling you only older modeled vehicles were able to work here, but where did they find fuel? Not once had you seen an operable fuel station. “There must be fuel at the beach, there has to be,” you thought to yourself, watching as they drove off which only made you more determined to find this place and get the answers to your questions. And with that thought in mind, you set out on a journey to find this so-called “beach.”

As the vehicle drove further from your sight, you started jogging in order to tail them to their location while still keeping yourself out of sight. You ran for around fifteen minutes before you saw a building in the distance, a building which had power unlike everything else in the city. Seeing the destination, you stopped running and took a while to slow your breathing and regain your energy. “So this is the Beach,” you sighed observing the structure and its surroundings. The building itself seemed to be four stories tall and included a large pool in front where people partied as if they weren’t fighting for their lives everyday. You approached a fence which seemed to outline the perimeter of the area and carefully leaned over it as if you were watching a child’s game. You saw the vast amounts of people give into the pleasures of ignorance while deafening music thrummed in the background, even from the great distance you were, you could slightly feel the vibrations of the bass in your chest.

“Ah who's this?” you heard a cynical voice ask rhetorically from behind you. At the sudden and unexpected presence you jumped, turning around and swinging your fist to punch whoever it was out of instinct. When your right hand came in contact with a face your left twisted to grab the knife you still carried on your thigh in a holster. Just as you grasped ahold of the handle one of the two people delivered a knockout-blow to the side of your head just behind your temple which caused you to instantly lose consciousness.

When you awoke you were sitting in a chair with your hands tied loosely behind your back onto the chair with what felt like a burlap bag over your head. You let out a small groan of discomfort feeling your head pulse due to your new injury, one you would have to repay later on. Upon hearing your groan, the bag was swiftly removed from your head allowing the bright lights of the room to flood your vision which hadn’t adjusted making you shut your eyes with a silent wince. After blinking a few times you get adjusted, you were finally able to scan your surroundings. In front of you stood a man with shoulder-length hair, blsck sunglasses, an open kimono and red swim trunks, to his left stood a man with buzzed hair, a black muscle shirt and green military pants who you instantly recognized.

“Aguni?” You asked with confusion seeing the man you used to work with. He was here too? You weren’t surprised he was still alive, the man was invincible when you worked with him. And just like back then, he was silent, he only gave a small nod of his head to you as a response before reassuming his statue-like stance. To his right was a man with silver hair, a white Nike hoodie and blue swim shorts who looked at you in an inquisitive manner with tired yet sharp eyes. Two women who had black hair were standing to his right and a man covered in tattoos stood further off to the side holding a sword long in length, possibly a katana. A few other people were staggered around the room but none of them seemed to be as ‘important’ as the few that you noticed immediately.

“Aguni-san? You know her?” The man in the kimono asked the latter with creased brows showing obvious confusion. “We worked at the SDF together. She was my partner before we were assigned to different segments, she’d be a good addition to the executives or militants.” He responded while putting in a good word for you. “Someone like her? An SDF officer? If you hadn’t told me, Aguni-san, I would have never known.” The man remarked crossing his arms over his chest while walking over to a desk which he leaned on. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You questioned with a scowl in his direction as your fingers fiddled with the ropes binding your wrists. You would be able to get out of them in a matter of minutes if no one noticed what you were trying to do, but it seemed the man in the white hoodie already noticed as he raised his brow in your direction with an impressed smirk on his stoic face. “A pretty, small woman like yourself...I would’ve thought you’d be tagging along with someone and not alone. Actually I would’ve thought you’d be dead by now, much less an SDF officer.” He commented with a wry smile fanning out all your cards which contradicted his statement.

“If my cards tell you anything, you should know you’re wrong,” you hummed, resuming your attempt to loosen the ropes. “Ah yes your cards,” he began while pushing himself off the desk and slowly pacing around the room, “we want you to become a resident at the Beach after seeing the cards you’ve gathered. And after learning of your pastime, you would be a great addition to the team either way.” Of course he would want you once he saw the games you had played, you were good at surviving meaning you’d also be efficient in getting him the rest of the cards. “And if I don’t want to become a resident?” You questioned poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue out of habit. You were doing just fine on your own and definitely did not need this place, however, it seemed like they needed you. Or they needed your cards more so than yourself.

“Well if you choose to stay, you’ll be able to get out of this game quicker. We have a theory that once we collect all the playing cards, one person will be able to go back to the normal world. And if you choose not to stay, well, you can walk away from here but we will keep your cards. We have gathered all the weapons in the city, we regularly gather rain water and food which the game makers seem to replenish once a week, you’ll be taken care of here.” He explained pausing directly in front of you waiting for a response. Did no one else see the problem with him? How he was manipulating everyone to get the cards under the false security that they’d get to leave too? Or was everyone here really THAT ignorant? “It seems like you take my cards either way hm?” You suggested in a hum cocking your head to the right slightly in question. “You’re correct. However, now you would be higher in the rankings and an executive after making such a great contribution and having the skill set you supposedly possess.” He told you in an attempt to persuade you into staying while adding a bit of sweetness to the word ‘contribution’. When you simply looked at him with a bored gaze, he sighed and continued speaking.

“If you decide to stay there are only three rules. 1) "always wear a bathing suit". This is to be sure no one is hiding any weapons which is why our militants don’t have to wear them if chosen to do so. Rule 2) "be free to live your life exactly as you wish including alcohol, drugs and sex" and the third and last rule: "death to traitors".” He enlightened you on the standards they lived by to help you make your decision. It didn’t seem like it would be a bad choice if you chose to stay here, you’d have food, shelter, and people you didn’t know in case you had to play another game of hearts.

“I’ll stay but I want my knife back, if I have to wear a bathing suit you’ll be able to see it anytime since I wear it on my thigh.” You compromised whilst completely freeing your hands from their bound position but still holding the rope to hide suspicions. You hated the fact you’d have to wear a swimsuit because your scars would be visible but if it meant you could have your knife, you’d be more than willing. Hearing a few chuckles resonate around the room at your demand you brought your attention to one of the men in the back of the room who had a bandage on his cheek and a black eye. It was easy to come to the conclusion that he was the one you punched earlier, and the thought of that made you smile with pride while looking at him.

“You are in no position to make demands, sweetheart,” he practically snarled at you. You hated being called sweetheart, it not only made you cringe but it infuriated you beyond measure. With a deadly glare, you let go of the rope and stood from the chair in a swift motion and threw the ropes at him without a word which said everything you needed to. However, just as he caught the ropes you could hear the door being slammed open followed by a voice which was all too familiar.

“The traitors are dead,” the unknown man announced in a tone of pride, kicking the door closed behind him. His voice instantly brought back memory after memory causing you to turn your head in shock in order to make sure you were hearing things correctly. The man you were looking at looked nothing like the one you once knew. This one had piercings on his nose and eyebrow while he sported an automatic rifle on his shoulder and a psychotic smile on his face. “Niragi?” You whispered in shock, still unable to believe your eyes. Was this the same boy you stood up for in high school? He looked so....different. What exactly happened to the sweet, shy boy you once fell in love with? “Y/N?” He questioned letting his mouth fall open the slightest but before he regained his composure. It was him, Suguru Niragi, the first and only man you’ve ever truly fallen in love with, but also the man who disappeared without a trace three years ago. You knew he had left you, it wasn’t hard to figure that much out, but you never knew why and quite frankly, you didn’t care anymore. You had moved on.

“Fantastic! Another one of our own knows this charming young woman, this will make things a lot easier. Niragi, you may take her to the locker rooms so she can change into some fitting attire then you can get her an ID bracelet and take her to her room.” The man who you noticed had a bracelet tagged 001, exclaimed with a clap of his hands as he was instructing Niragi to get you settled in. “She can do it on her own,” Niragi scoffed with a roll of his eyes which had you throwing your head back in a sarcastic chuckle. “I’ll take her,” someone insisted from the side. Glancing in the direction the voice resounded you noticed the short pale man with the silver hair stepping out towards you. He seemed oddly familiar as well but you couldn’t quite place it.

“That’s settled then. Now, my knife?” You quipped raising a brow at the ‘leader’ in the kimono just before someone came from behind you pressing a cold piece of metal to your throat while their other arm was holding your arms in place by your waist. The room went silent as everyone watched what was about to unfold in front of them, Aguni simply rolled his eyes with a sigh knowing what was about to happen. “You mean this knife?” The man teased, his voice was one you recognized from one of the two men that brought you to this place and all you wanted in that moment was to stab him for that. So, naturally, you settled for the next best thing. Pushing your head forward a little while trying not to move your neck, you watched Niragi’s expression as you threw your head backwards with all your force resulting in hitting the unknown man’s nose.

When the back of your skull came into contact with his face he immediately lessened his grip on you which allowed you to slip out of his grasp and take your knife from his hand. With your knife in hand, you grabbed his wrist, twisting it and bending his arm behind his back while your other arm placed him in a chokehold. You leaned in close to his ear as he was fighting your hold before pulling him back harshly, putting pressure on his windpipe, “Never, and I mean NEVER, touch my knife again. Got it?” You growled and if you were being honest, you would’ve intimidated yourself. You didn’t wait for a response as you pushed him forward only to watch him fall onto the ground with a soft thud. “Now,” you sighed looking up with a smile which could’ve been seen as both innocent or sinister, “let’s go,” you said slipping your knife into the holster on your thigh. The man with the white hair stepped forward with his hands in his pockets and came to your side, briefly looking at Niragi before turning his attention to you. “Let’s go, shall we?”

[maximons]

All Is Lost

Summary: Zombies have taken over the world, humanity on the edge of extinction. All hope was lost. Despite that, Wanda couldn’t seem to let go of Y/n, who had fallen victim to the plague herself.

Word Count: 2,263

Genre: Angst

Requested?: No

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, cannibalism, suicide, mentions of blood. Spoilers for Ep. 5 of What If...?

A/N: I know, I know, I’m gonna get into the stuff I promised soon. But for now, the Zombies episode inspired me and this came out. If you haven’t seen the episode yet, go watch it. Its amazing and depressing. Also this is DARK guys, probably the darkest thing I’ve ever written, so...Happy Reading!

The Zombie apocalypse was always something everyone joked about, but never something that anyone could actually predict.

Everything happened so quickly, Wanda could barely keep up. It’s hard to believe that everything was so normal only two weeks ago. Now, she was locked away with Vision in an abandoned military base in New Jersey. Desperate to survive for as long as possible while Vision worked on a cure.

Some of his experiments had been a success, most notably Scott Lang who he was able to revert back from his zombified state. However, the man was now only a severed head.

Despite the success, Vision was less than optimistic. For one, Scott was one of the first infected. While the cure worked on him, the android theorized that the disease has mutated greatly since then, and it was likely impossible to cure everyone. And even if he could, the technology to do so is beyond human comprehension and therefore doesn’t exist.

Vision might have all but given up hope, but Wanda didn’t. She couldn’t. She refused to give up on you.

Wanda and you have been best friends for as long as Wanda had been an Avenger. You were already a member of the team and greeted her with an open mind and open arms, despite all she had done. You had fire powers, and while your powers weren’t identical to Wanda’s, you still offered some basic tips and tricks to keep such explosive powers at bay.

It wasn’t a surprise that she fell in love with you.

But her stupid fear had to get in the way, and when you came to confess your own feelings for her, she panicked and rejected you. You were so heartbroken, Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know that.

And it kills her everyday knowing that that was the last interaction she had with you. The last one with you as yourself anyway.

All that remained now was the flesh hungry, blood thirsty monster that wore your, now rotting, skin.

This wasn’t you, she knows that. She looked into your mind and saw no trace of the woman you once were, the one she loved with all her heart. She couldn’t feel you, you were gone.

Despite this, Wanda couldn’t let you go. She couldn’t handle losing you entirely. She already lost almost everyone.

She managed to convince Vision to keep you in the base for testing. You were locked behind a large steel door, with only a window to see you through. But you were here, and that’s all Wanda cared about.

The cure wasn’t working for you. Your powers caused it to incinerate when it entered your system, proving it to be ineffective. Still, she refused to give up.

Vision thought it best to terminate you after the failed tests, but Wanda begged him not to. Knowing he couldn’t overpower her, and sensing his friend’s distress with anything that comes to you, he agreed. As long as Wanda had it under control.

She doubted he knew that she was luring innocent survivors into the base so you could feed on them, but she did what she had to do.

Wanda spent most of her days sitting outside of your cell. The first few days, you were ravenous. Banging on the walls and trying to burn them down, growling and screeching with the inhuman noise that took over your vocal chords, but you didn’t manage to break free. After a while, it seemed you have given up, and just sat in place. Only moving when Wanda opened the cell and let some of your ‘food’ in.

There were times where Wanda thought that maybe, just maybe, the cure was working more than they thought. You seemed to have recognized her, your facial expressions formed into ones that she had recognized and missed dearly. But that hope quickly died when she would peek into your head and still sense nothing.

“Hey, Y/n.” Wanda walked up to outside your cell and sat cross-legged like she did everyday. Your head rose, staring at her with your now glowing yellow eyes. “Still no progress on the cure, but don’t worry, I’m not giving up yet.” You offered no response, not that she expected one. “It’s hard. It’s only getting worse out there...” She sighed as she trailed off. She raised her hand to the glass, like she always did. “I’m going to figure it out...we’re gonna get you back to normal, and I’m going to tell you every day how much I love you. I miss you so much, but...we’re almost there. I can feel it...” Wanda’s voice started choking up, as tears ran down her face. “We deserve our happy ending.”

Her hand was still pressed against the glass as she finished her speech. She was about to lower it, but then something unexpected happened. You stared at her hand curiously, beginning to raise your own. Wanda watched, smile forming on her face as your arm made it’s way to the glass. 

“Wanda! Please come here, we have a situation.” You had almost pressed your hand against Wanda’s, when Vision’s voice interrupted. Your attention turned to the direction it came from and you let out a growl, clearly angry at the interruption. Wanda sighed in disappointment, but she tried not to let it take over. You still showed massive improvement, something worth reporting back to Vision. “It’s okay.” She soothed you. “I’m going to go see what he wants then I’ll be right back, okay? I know you’re hungry, I’ll get you some food too.” You didn’t offer a response as she walked off.

“Vis! I have to tell you-” Wanda began as she walked into the main room, but cut herself off at the new faces. She didn’t recognize the bald woman with the spear or the wimpy looking man in a workers uniform, but she was familiar with Peter. What surprised her most though, was Bruce Banner. A man she hasn’t seen in over three years. “What is going on?”

“I ran into them outside the premises. Apparently word has gotten out about the cure.” Vision answered before turning his attention back to the guests. “As I told you, I am afraid we cannot help you. The cure seems to be a moot point.”

“Well, what about-” Peter began, but he was interrupted by a new voice.

“For something you have no hope for, you sure don’t have a problem bringing in new test subjects.” Wanda recognized Bucky Barnes’ voice. She turned around, and her eyes widened as she saw King T’challa on his arm, struggling to stand on his one remaining leg.

Shit.

“My king! We thought you dead.” The bald woman exclaimed in relief and surprise.

“Your highness. I was not aware you were in the base.” Vision said, confused on how that got by him. It didn’t take him long to figure out why. “Wanda...”

“I’m sorry.” Wanda whispered, knowing she was caught. “The cure wasn’t working on Y/n, and in order to keep her at bay, I had to feed her.”

“So you fed her our King?” A spear was raised to her throat, threateningly.

“It was nothing personal, I promise. I have her under control and the cure is starting to work, I know it. We just need a little more time!”

“Why not just kill her? You lured innocent people to their deaths just for her when there a couple million more Zombies out there that you could use for testing. Ones that have a chance of being cured.” The whole room went quiet after Bucky said that.

“Uh oh. Shouldn’t have said that.” Wanda heard Scott say, but she was too busy glaring at Bucky. Her eyes started to go red, but before she could do anything, she noticed the spear held to her throat begin to glow red and melt. The woman dropped the spear as it began to burn her hands.

“Did it just suddenly get like, super hot?” Peter asked as he began to fan himself.

“Oh no...” Wanda trailed off. She looked up to notice the steal walls that led to your cell begin to melt. “You’ve done it now...she hasn’t eaten in days.” Before anyone could respond, the steel doors melted completely. The man in the uniform was unfortunate enough to be standing in front of it, as a strong burst of flame shot out and incinerated him on the spot. Only a second later, you flew out the door, covered in flames as you hovered above everyone.

Wanda watched in horror as you began to fight everyone. They weren’t holding up very well, and that’s when Wanda finally realized what she had done. This wasn’t you, and if you were still here, you would hate to see your body be used to attack and kill others.

“Vision! Get us out of here!” She heard Bruce yell, and Vision shot a blast towards the wall, blowing it up and letting everyone out. Wanda turned her focus back to you, you watched them starting to escape and you began to fly after them, but a red mist surrounded you before you could. You turned your head, starting to growl, but stopped when you saw it was Wanda.

“Y/n. Stop...” You tilted your head, still struggling to move as Wanda came closer. She took a chance and reached up, gently placing a hand on your face. “I am so sorry...you never deserved this...” Your face softened at the touch, beginning to show the signs of emotion that Wanda desperately held onto. However, it was clear now that it was too late.

You snapped out of it, as you managed to break free from Wanda’s hold. You opened your mouth wide, intent on biting and feeding on her, but something stopped you. You hesitated, and Wanda noticed. You settled for pushing her aside to the ground as you reignited yourself and flew out of the base.

Wanda picked herself up after a moment, intent on stopping you. She ran past Okoye’s body, charred and eaten, but she was sure there was little time until she turned. She ran faster to where you were, now facing off against Bucky. She sprinted further, about to take off and fly when she paused.

Vision was face down on the ground. She kneeled next to him, glowing red hand turning over his body, afraid of what she’ll see. Once he was turned, Wanda gasped at the sight. The mind stone was torn out of his head.

“Oh no...no, no, no...” She held his body, tears slowly building as she mourned the loss of her best friend. She had officially lost everything. “I am so sorry Vis...I’m going to make this right, I promise.”

She heard Bucky scream. She looked over to see you start to feed on him. She saw Bruce, Peter, Scott and T’challa in the distance, making their way to the jet. They were your next target.

No. Wanda wasn’t going to let that happen. It ends now.

She used her powers to propel herself forward, landing directly in your path. You growled at her yet again as she used her powers to hold you. “Y/n...please, stop.” You struggled to get out of the hold, but Wanda held on. “This isn’t you...you wouldn’t want this...I love you more than anything, and I’m so sorry...I hope one day, you’ll forgive me.” 

Wanda used her powers to grab the gun laying by Bucky’s side. She held in to your head, ready to pull the trigger...but she couldn’t. She let out a scream of frustration and dropped her hold on both you and the gun. The gun fell to the ground, but you haven’t moved.

“I can’t do it...I...I’m not strong enough...” Wanda began crying, shutting her eyes and waited for you to finish her off. She failed everyone, no one deserved death more than her. She opened her eyes when nothing came. You stood, staring at her with a tilt of your head. The yellow of your eyes dimming as you stared.

“W....Wan...” You struggled to let out, but it was enough for Wanda to hear. She cried even harder. She was right, you were almost there...but it was too late now.

You took in your surroundings as best you could, you didn’t have a lot of awareness, but you knew enough to piece everything together. You saw the influx of zombies starting to enter to base.  Everyone needed to get away. You turned back to Wanda, and you knew what you had to do. You felt the little control you had start to slip away.

You bent down and picked up the discarded gun. You shakily pointed it to your temple, the control slipping away faster and faster. “Love....you....I...sorry...” You managed to croak out. Before you could lose control completely, you pulled the trigger.

Wanda watched in horror as you shot yourself in the head. Pieces of your brain landing on her, your blood drenching her. She looked down to see your body, half your face still together, but you were gone. Truly gone.

She knelt down sobbing, as she held your body. After a moment she looked up to see the Hulk appear as the zombies began to overwhelm the base. She saw the jet take off, and she gave a weak smile. They got away. Wanda’s job was done. This is where her story ends. All was lost for her.

So when the zombies finally reached her, she didn’t fight back. Accepting her death with open arms.

Epilogue

[winchesterxxi]

Urges of the Subconscious (Din Djarin x Reader) | PART 1

Gif by @keanurevees​

Rating: E (Explicit)

Type: Smut

Pairing: Din Djarin x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Stationed in Tatooine for the night, courtesy of Peli Motto, you and Din are forced to share a room. Thinking that it was more than obvious that the two of you weren’t together, you both expected to find two separate beds - that didn’t quite happen. Sleeping next to the person you’ve been having dreams about for a while now leads to some unconscious shuffling closer to each other - culminating in quite the interesting morning.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: One bed trope, SMUT (wet dream, rubbing, blindfold, nipple play/breast play, fingering)

A/N: I haven’t written for Din in so long, god, I missed my favorite bucket-head. This is also a long one because my gears are oiled and working, so bear with me. Also, part 2? 👀

Buy me a Kofi!

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ 

When Din had told you that there was a fault in the differential and exhaust manifold of the Razor, you knew that meant a trip down to Tattooine. You weren’t particularly excited about it – the scorching hot weather mixed with the sandy landscape always made you feel gross and heavy, sensations that you weren’t particularly fond of.

The child on the other hand, at the mention of a need for repairs, cooed in excitement, eager to encounter his adored Peli Motto, who he seems to have absolutely smitten. Nothing wrong with that, in fact, it was nice to see the kid being in someone else’s arms without fearing for his life.

Down on the rocky ground in front of her secluded shop, Peli looks up at the shadow that suddenly allocated itself in front of the sun, only to adjust her vision and catch the Razor Crest slowly descending closer, until its landing skids contacted the red ground and the large cargo ramp started to lower itself.

Into her vision came what she secretly nicknamed as “The Space Family”: You, with the baby in your left arm, and the imponent Mandalorian just a couple of feet behind, a gothic painting, some would say one that was slowly making their way towards her.

“We brought the Child!” You amusingly exclaimed, grinning as her smile immediately grew and the child was already trying to wiggle out of your embrace.

“Easy there!” she exclaimed as the child cooed and babbled in her arms, content with the reunion

“How much do you want for it?” she asks you “Just kidding. But not really.”

“The kid’s still not for sale. But I have a few repairs that need to be done.” Din intervenes. You know he isn’t being purposefully stern, but the man could sure use some lessons on loosening up and being able to understand a joke.

“Always a pleasure to talk with you, Mandalorian.” Peli greets with an expressionlessly sarcastic face that falls upon her as soon as she looks up from the child  “Point me in the direction.”

After a close inspection alongside the Mandalorian, they both returned to where you and the child stood before he reached for Peli once again and you laughed at his tiny attachment problem.

“ I can get you out of here tomorrow at around noon.”

“Noon? Peli, we can’t stay overnight. People need us.”

“People can wait. Can’t they?” She asks the question in a higher-pitched voice directed towards the kid who she bops in the nose before turning back to you and Din. “And sure you can! There’s a small holsterly just a few miles down the sand, an hour walk and you’ll be fine.”

“We only have credits for the maintenance.” Says Din from your right side.

Peli is about to throw a quick answer, as she always does, but something stops her. She closes her mouth and looks down at Grogu, who happily jiggles the tiny ball between his fingers. She smirks and looks up at you two again, adjusting the kid in her embrace.

“Tell you what. You let me take care of the kid for the night, you two go and have some rest, Maker knows you need it… and the maintenance is on me.”

“We’re not leaving –“ the Mandalorian starts but you quickly cut him off, placing a firm hand on his whistling bird, settling him.

“Deal.”

“Wh- What?” He shakes his helmet in your direction.

“Come on.” You tug him along your side, heavy beskar boots reluctant to move, as you wave back at Grogu and Peli who is smiling like two children who will, more than definitely, be up to no good in the following hours.

But he knows better than to make a scene with you when you are playing nice. So he waits until the pair that was left behind to be out of sight to pull you by your elbow to face him.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“No, but we are almost out of credits.” You reason with him, picking up on his sentence. “Din, she did a nice thing… not all people are out to get you.” Your voice is calm, and it takes all of your strength not to reach out and touch him, maybe caress the helmet of his cheek, or his hand. But he’s who he is, and you don’t want to cross any lines.

His towering figure lets go of your elbow and he walks ahead through the sand, talking over his shoulder.

“This is the first and last time we’re doing this.”

You grin and bit your bottom lip behind him, feeling victorious from having him wrapped around your finger in situations like this, before speeding your own stride to catch up to him, feeling the heat reflected on his beskar hit your skin.

It was a small inn, there was no doubt, more like a one night resting home for the looks of it, the offer ranging little above a few sleeping quarters along a hall and a shared bathroom at the end of it.

Once unlocking the wooden door, you and Din stepped into the now moonlit room, which ended up being more spacious than anticipated.

With Din closing the door and locking it once again, your eyes scan around the carved walls and the big window, the tapestry on the floor and then – the bed. The only bed. Not even a couch on the other end of the room. Only a bed.

Din seems to have noticed it too as you feel him come to a halt right behind you, helmet turning to scan the room.

“Why would they give us only one bed? I specifically said it was a two people bedroom.” You can feel his aggrieved tone sip through the helmet, frustrated with the situation.

“Two people. Not two beds.” You scoff and he looks at you, causing you to look away and avert your smile from his field of vision – how unskilled Din was with such mundane tasks always amused you. “I’m afraid this one’s on you Din Djarin.”

You walk over to the bed and start to peel the layers of your leather uniform, down to your undershirt and panties.

“Woah, what are you doing?” Din asks you, turning his helmet away once his helmet falls upon your bare legs.

“Getting to bed. You should too.” You state in a deadpan voice, before sliding your legs underneath the cotton sheet and laying your head in the fluffy pillow – something you haven’t had in months.

“No, yeah, I can see that! But I-… do you… Are you…?” he stumbles over his words, awkwardly still standing in the middle of the room at the bottom of the bed.

“Din, rest. Come on, it’s not every day you have a real bed to lay on.” The man huffs and walks over to your opposite side of the bed, before pulling the covers back, getting ready to seat down, before you shoot up on your elbow.

“Aren’t you going to take the armour off?”

“Why would I? Hostile planet, unknown people sleeping next door. Peli might contact us at any minute.” He has a big list of reasons, and he could more than definitely go on, but something in the way you are looking at him through the visor stops him.

“Din. Nothing bad is going to happen for one night.” Your eyes were honest and they pierced his soul melting his insides and kicking his usual hunter instinct out the window.

Not being able to resist, he drops his shoulders and sighs, before reaching for his chest pauldron and unclasping it while you grin victoriously.

“The helmet stays on.” He warns you, while pieces upon pieces of beskar and leather fall to the ground, placed against the foot of the bed until he is in nothing besides his fitted undersuit and beskar helmet.

Reaching for the covers once again, Din finally sleeps into the bed and as soon as his back hits the mattress he releases a quiet grown and you chuckle.

“Better?” you ask him, face turned his way and cocking your eyebrow up.

“Better.” This time, to your surprise, he’s the one that chuckles, the vibration of the modulated sound going straight to your stomach.

“Goodnight Din.” You whisper, turning your back to him and placing your body in your preferred position to sleep. With one look at you, the only nothing he can now see is the moonlit outline of your curves as your ribcage rises and falls at the rhythm of your quiet breath.

He’d be damned if anything happened to you. For as paranoid as he was the possibility of someone breaking in at the dead of the night and harming you, stopped him from turning his back to you and instead, settling with his chest up to the ceiling, helmet turned in your direction.

“Goodnight.”

For the first time in Maker knows how long, both you and Din managed to sleep during a full night with no sudden wake up calls or alarms beeping around. It was nice, he had to admit. So nice, that his body got a little too comfortable, his hands in his slumber reaching for your body and your own figure, unconsciously draw to his embrace let itself be held by him during the long hours of the dark – none of you being aware of such.

But somewhere along that time, in the wee small hours of the morning, your body rotated in his arms, back to his slowly moving chest and his hands, unbothered, had to keep touching you, they had to make sure you were there, hence gently palming your right boob.

It wasn’t until you felt an involuntary squeeze of his bare hands against your tunic, a definite sleep spasm that you were pulled awake and made aware of the situation.

Heat flooded your whole body once you realized the compromising position you both found yourselves in. Gently humming Din’s name, you don’t dare to move his arm, being very aware of his hunter instincts.

“Din.” You repeat again, this time louder and the man behind you hums. At the same time as the sound leaves his lungs, his fingers squeeze yet again. You suck in a breath and bite your bottom lip, preventing any sort of moan from escaping.

Din groans once, the sleep still gripping his system but he must’ve soon realized where his hand was, forearm trapped beneath your weight as he quickly pulls it away, sitting up straight in the bed.

“Kriff. I’m so sorry, I didn’t intend to-“ His chest is rising and lowering heavy, and you can see a hint of the red skin that heats on his neck and upper chest.

“It’s alright, I know.”

A heavy silence hangs in the air, you having since sat up in bed, back against the headboard, only your breathings and and heavy tension floating in the air. You were pretty sure your cheeks were still pink, as they still felt hot.

“I don’t want you to think that I wanted to do anything to you. I would never.” He says, coming off harsher than intended. It’s not that he didn’t want to be with you, Maker, he did, he had fallen head over heels a long time ago… But, maybe you didn’t feel that way. You were too good for him, anyway. A puddle of light in his life that he didn’t want to corrupt with his own being.

“Would it be so bad?” You whisper, afraid that he really didn’t want anything to do with you, slightly hurt by the words he’d just said.

Silence remains and you look to your side only to find the beskar helmet turning in your direction, your hopeful eyes and hung mouth pleading for a genuine answer.

Feeling bold, you reach for his bare hand that rested against the mattress and hold it up to where it was before and he is silently following your actions, but you can feel his muscles tensing at your actions.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” His voice is strained as he looks away but dares not to move his hand.

“Din. Please.” You whisper in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for his helmet to return to face you.

“If I start, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to.”

There is a moment there. One of silence, but that was heavy with unsaid words. A look into your eyes was all it took him to pull your hips gently down and lay you back on the soft mattress while his body shifted to be above you.

His rough fingers gently tugged at one of the straps of your tunic before pulling it down and off your arm, same as with the other one that followed, leaving the thin fabric still splayed over your chest, from where he could now see the hard buds straining through.

Your breathing deepened and you could feel heat pool at your core, shifting your thighs closer together, an action that didn’t go unnoticed to the masked man above you as your knees brushed his crotch.

“Mesh’la.” He whispers, looking down your body, his erection pressing against the fabric of his confined pants.

Putting all of his weight on his elbows, the Mandalorian slides the fabric of your tunic down, revealing your swollen breasts, courtesy of the arousal he was fabricating in you. His fists curled at the sudden need that he had, one that he couldn’t fulfil if there was the possibility of you seeing his face.

Sitting back on his knees, he reaches out to the floor on his side of the bed, where he remembers to have discarded his armour and other layers the night before. When he sits back up, you can see that he is holding one of his undershirts, the one that went directly under the leather layer, made of a soft black fabric.

He motions it towards your head as if asking for permission to put it around your head and all you can do is nod while bitting your bottom lip, eager to give in to the pleasure he intended to deliver.

You lift your head from where it was resting against the pillow and his gentle hands tie the fabric around your eyes, making sure that it was tight enough for it not to slip, but not too much so that it would hurt you.

In the darkness that you found yourself surrounded by, all your other senses tingled in anticipation, especially your touch and hearing as from somewhere lower above you, a hissing sound filled the air, followed by that of metal being placed on wood.

Still sitting on his knees, his eyes could now see you in all of your glory, without the darkening of the helmet. And you were a sight to behold. Hair splayed around your head on the pillow, lips parted in anticipation, breasts aching for him. To the latter he gave in first, lowering himself to attach his lips to your left nipple, his breath fanning over it for a moment before diving in.

You suck in a sharp breath and moan at his action, while one of his hands finds your free nipple, not wanting it to go unattended.

“Din, that feels so good.” Your head lifts up and then drops with a small thud against the pillow taking in shallow and quick breaths as his fingers and tongue continued to tease your sensitive buds.

His mouth and hands were equally skilled, the latter, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, as quick jolts of pain and pleasure rushed through every nerve in your body.

He stayed there for a long time, switching sides every now and then, mouth sucking and tongue lapping and brushing against your nipples.

He sucked and moaned around it every time his tongue stroked the tip of your nipple and your hands fumbled between grabbing the sheets below you or his soft hair, body arching up wanting more. More of him, more of that sensation, just more.

With your tunic still draped over your torso the one hand of Din’s that wasn’t supporting his weight travels down to your core, thick fingers brushing against your clit and soon after trailing a path up your dripping slit, moaning when his digits became wet.

“Did that make you wet, cyar’ika? You like it when I play with your nipples?” his husky voice sent waves of arousal up your body.

“Yes, Din, you’re so good at it, please.” You reach your hand down to palm at his erection “I need you, please.”

Gently he grabs your hand from his crotch and places it down next to your head. “Next time. We need to get going in a few if we don’t want to burn under the midday sun. But I can still make you feel good.”

You moaned at his willingness to prioritize your pleasure over his, going as far as denying himself of an orgasm at this crucial moment, which would have him frustrated until the next time you could be alone together again.

His lips return to your nipples and, at the same time, he slides two digits inside your aching cunt, the warmth and clenching around his skin making him whimper around your nipple, making the pleasure skyrocket on your part.

The outer rim of his free hand now rested against the mound that was free from his mouth’s hold, as his middle finger flicked up and down against the tip of your nipple, making you cry out in pleasure as it synched perfectly with his ministrations against and inside your core.

It was all too much, and tears pooled at the outer corners of your eyes, leaving an eventual wet trail behind as they ran down your cheeks, until being soaked by his shirt that rested around your eyes.

Your body convulsed under his frame, arching against him as a wave of white pleasure washing over you like never before, the joined ecstasy of his two places of stimulation pushing you with full force over the edge you were chasing.

Din rode your high until he felt you could no more, never for once slowing his movement in between your legs as your cum dripped down his fingers and into his palm, and making the most of your sensitive nipples by bringing both your breasts together with his large hand, positioning them in a way that both nipples were almost touching, allowing him to lick and suck at the two simultaneously.

Once your body is spent and limp, chest rising and falling trying to catch your breath and trying to drive some oxygen up to your brain as you felt like being high, Mando finally lifts his face up to your own and, for the first time lets his lips latch onto something other than your chest. The kiss is deep and wet, his tongue roaming your lips before exploring your mouth.

Din then sits back up on his knees, chuckling as your head followed his once your lips parted, not wanting to separate just yet.

His bare hand reaches to the side table where he’d laid the helmet and puts it back on, coming away from straddling you and rather returning to his side of the bed, pulling you in by your waist to his side and sliding the shirt up from around your eyes

He watches you smile, still in the aftereffects of your orgasm.

“Hey.” You muse up at him.

“Hey.” He answers, the helmet preventing you from seeing the lopsided smile that adorned his beautiful face.

“That was…”

“I know.” He completes your thought.

“Was it so bad, after all?” You close your eyes as the question leaves your lips, the exhaustion of this morning activity starting to wash over you.

“Not even close.”

As if on cue, the first ray of sunshine makes its way through the window glass and you know that it means you need to get dressed and out of this place. Din notices it as well, patting your side before slinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing up.

“Come one, mesh’la. We need to go.”

“I know.” You groan up to the air. “But this is so comfortable.”

“The faster we get there, the faster we can go into the Razor and the closer we are to putting Grogu asleep.” He tells you, hands on his hips, a teasing tone on his voice and damn it, he got you good.

“I hate that you know me so well.” You huff with a smile, crawling up to his side of the bed so that you’re on your knees on top of the mattress, still, he towers over you.

“Can’t wait to know all of you.” He whispers as his helmet comes closer down your face and his hands travel to your waist. He then gives it a little squeeze before patting your ass. “Come on now, let’s go. I have a feeling someone is waiting to make grabby hands at us.”

“I was about to say you have a stationed ship waiting to take off, but I’m glad to see you have your priorities straight.” You muse over your shoulder, walking to the small bathroom adjacent to the bedroom.

As you go, Din stays behind adoring the view of your hips swaying and ass jiggling as you walk.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

He really couldn’t wait to know all of you.

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[jj-babebank]

Room 107 // chapter I // JJ Maybank (smut)

I have started my first JJ story, which will consist of several chapters that I will constantly be updating. The story picks up where season 2 leaves us. TW: Contains mentions of drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex and violence. 

Chapter 1 can be found below.  Oh, and - please feel free to submit requests, I tend to write a lot ;) 

Enjoy xx

Chapter 1 - La Guardiana

Days had passed since the Pogues had last seen civilisation, maybe even weeks. The sun was hotter than ever, with close to no wind to mask the warmth. JJ was taking this particularly badly. 

“I’m so done with eating bananas, man,” he moaned, kicking a pebble as he trotted a little behind the rest of his friends, “Can’t we just stumble across an oasis or something and end up in, like, an actual city?”

As if on command, his friends stopped in their tracks, the girls awing and the guys smiling happily. 

“We just might, JJ,” said John B, looking at the city unfolding itself in front of them in the distance, “We just might.”

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

“I’m actually starving,” laughed Sarah, nudging John B’s arm, “Don’t tease!” “Hey, so am I,” he cooed, “First joint we find, we’re going in for food.” Kiara rolled her eyes, “As much as I would love to accept that offer, let me remind you that we have no money.” Sarah nodded, “Mhm, nothing at all.” “Nada,” John B looked at the two girls sternly, “And when has that ever stopped us exactly?” Kiara rolled her eyes once again, smirking at her friend, “Alright, I suppose a good meal would give me the energy I’d need to run a marathon after getting caught not paying.”

The group continued walking down a not too busy street, studying the buildings, looking for a restaurant, cafe, diner - anything, really. They hadn’t had a proper meal in God knows how long and they were famished. They couldn’t help but notice how all the buildings on the street were of the same height - no more than four storeys each, all painted in different colours. If they hadn’t known any better, they’d have thought that they had left the United States of America altogether, although one thing was certain - they were definitely not in the Outer Banks anymore. 

The street wasn’t crowded at all, there were hardly any cars or people lurking about. JJ concluded that this was probably an unpopular area of whichever city they were in. This would also explain the lack of supermarkets and restaurants. He really wanted to ask his friends to stop for a little break - his throat was so dry and his legs could barely hold him up anymore, but he knew better. The longer they walk, the faster they’ll find what they are looking for. Having no indicator of the time on them wasn’t helping either, hell, they could have been walking for 12 hours for all he knew, and with no result. 

“Maybe we should just ask someone,” Pope suggested, “Neither of us is a wanted criminal anymore, I’d say we have nothing to worry about.” John B smirked at his friend’s remark, but ultimately agreed to ask the first person they ran into where the nearest food joint was. Turns out, they were standing right in front of it. 

“La Cubanita Hotel and Restaurant” it spelled out in bold, red letters. The building was narrow and a light shade of blue, totally contrasting the obnoxiously coloured sign planted in front of it. Much like the rest of the buildings on the street, it had no more than four floors, each consisting of a row of Spanish windows with brightly coloured frames. The Pogues looked at each other with a hint of uncertainty before John B lead the way into the building. 

On the inside it looked like a typical diner - tiled floor, red and blue booths, a long bar accompanied by bar stools and, cheesily enough, a boombox. JJ guessed that the way to the hotel was through the back, but he didn’t put too much thought into it. The place seemed dead, with only one of the booths being busy. It was either an off-peak hour or this city was actually a ghost town. 

The group sat at one of the booths on the other side of where the other people were and JJ took a second to observe them. A group of bikers, all wearing stereotypical biker outfits from leather jackets down to bandanas. They were in their mid 50s and were all smoking indoors, drinking what looked like whiskeys, despite of the blazing sun still very much being out. JJ had to give it to them though, they did look pretty darn cool if he did say so himself, and those cigarettes looked eerily appetising to him at this given moment. Oh, what he’d give to have a sip of whatever they were having and a long, much needed drag of one of their cigarettes. He was so lost in his daydream, he barely realised Kiara poking him in the arm. 

“JJ,” she urged, “Waitress is here!” In this moment JJ turned his attention to the new subject in question, their waitress. She was standing at the foot of their booth, wearing her uniform, black and red, holding a pen and a notepad, chewing a piece of gum, waiting for his order. Could this place get any more stereotypical? JJ thought to himself. “So what’s it gonna be, handsome?” She said, not even bothering to look in his direction. “Uh…” JJ fumbled with the menu, “I’ll just have whatever they’re having.” He said, pointing at the bikers in the booth across from theirs. The woman rolled her eyes, popping her bubblegum. She took the rest of the Pogues’ orders before disappearing somewhere behind the bar. JJ followed her with his eyes, blocking out the conversation his friends were currently having. The waitress came back out of what he assumed to be the kitchen and handed the paper with their orders to another girl behind the bar. JJ guessed she was the barmaid, and boy was she a bit of him. 

She was wearing the same uniform as her colleague, although JJ had to admit - it looked a whole lot better on her, at least from what he could see from above the bar. Her hair was long and brown, half of it tied up effortlessly, and slightly messily, although JJ didn’t mind one bit. He watched her as she took the paper from her colleague and went to fetch the drinks written on it. He couldn’t make out what exactly colour her eyes were, and quite frankly - he didn’t really care, she was gorgeous regardless of what her eyes looked like, and she looked around his age. Had the sun and heat gotten to his head, or was it just the fact that he hadn’t touched a female in so long, he didn’t know, but if there was one thing JJ Maybank was notorious for, it was his ability to pull any girl his heart desired effortlessly. This is why he excused himself from the table and, albeit his friends’ confused looks and comments, he made his way towards the bar, sliding into one of the stools directly across from the girl. 

She looked up at him, “Can I help you?” “Brown…” JJ mumbled to himself. “Excuse me?” She said, this time sounding slightly annoyed. Her eyes were brown, JJ thought, brown and sexy. He coughed, trying to compose himself and gave her his signature Maybank stare. It worked wonders back home, surely it would work wonders now again. “Name’s JJ,” he said suavely, “I’m not from around here-“ “Clearly,” she muttered, picking up a bottle of whiskey. JJ assumed it was for him, “Aren’t you a little young to be drinking, JJ?”

JJ smirked, “What can I say, I have the face of a boy but the body and mind of a man.” The girl snickered under her nose, “Sure. Well since you’re here, make yourself useful and bring your drinks over to your friends,” she gave him a fake smile, placing a tray with their orders on it in front of him, after which she turned her back to him and walked towards the back of the bar. JJ was too busy observing her behind to notice the other waitress standing next to him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Should I take that or will you?” She said, waking JJ up from his everlasting daydream. “Oh, uh, don’t sweat it…” he said, picking up the tray and carrying it over to his friends’ booth. “So much for customer service,” Sarah laughed. “And to think my dad says I’m hostile to our customers,” Kiara muttered out. JJ took his seat next to her, his eyes never leaving the bar. “La Guardiana,” Pope read out loud, “This place is called La Guardiana, and apparently we’re somewhere in Florida.” “Florida?” John B said, confusion dripping through his words. Pope nodded, pointing at some text on the bottom of the menu. 

La Cubanita Hotel & Restaurant **, 97 Diego’s Crescent, La Guardiana, FL 

“Holy shit, we’re in Florida!” John B whisper yelled. Sarah laughed at his reaction, “Calm down now, Sancho, let’s not draw any attention to us,” “Yeah, you might wanna tell Casanova here that,” teased Pope, nodding his head in JJ’s direction, “Was it really worth it to potentially blow our cover just to talk to that girl?” JJ snapped at Pope, “Hey, man, just ‘cuz you don’t have the nuts to go over there and talk to her yourself,” “Yeah, I really want to attract the staff’s attention, you know, even more than we already are, seeing as we’re the only other busy table at this place.” “Your food,” the waitress from earlier was back with some of the Pogues’ orders. They waited for her to be out of earshot and JJ spoke up, “Relax, P, I bet you I can charm the pants off that girl and we won’t even need to sneak out without paying!” Pope gave JJ a fake smile, “Mhm, I’m sure she’s gonna be so deep under your spell she won’t even notice us leaving without paying a cent." JJ rolled his eyes, picking up a toothpick from the table and placing it between his teeth. “Might even offer us a place to crash, you know, because she’ll be so captivated by you.” Pope continued to tease. “Yeah, chicks totally dig this whole I’m homeless and I haven’t properly showered in like 15 days look you're going for,” Sarah joined in on the teasing. Kiara laughed and added, “Yeah, and the bit that’s gonna fully seal the deal for her is that you have literally nothing to offer her, like 0 dollars.” Everyone was laughing while JJ just crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned to look out the window, “Talk all you want, guys, but once we get that gold back, you’ll see who’ll dig what.” “The rest of your order,” he recognised the girl’s voice. It was her bringing their food over this time. She placed John B’s plate in front of him and then made her way around the table, next to where JJ was sat. She handed him his plate and bent down slightly, so that her lips were on the same level as JJ’s ear, “Next time you decide to share your criminal plans, you might wanna talk a bit more quietly.” She whispered, setting his cutlery down for him, “Oh, and, you might be charming wherever you come from, but your friend’s right. That shit doesn’t work around here.” She said, patting him on the shoulder before walking away. JJ didn’t waste time sitting around to listen to his friends pass comments about what had just happened, he downed his whiskey and practically chased after the girl. “I’m guessing you’ll want another one?” She said, not even turning around. JJ wondered how she knew that he was there. When she turned to face him, the bottle of whiskey was in her hand. “Let’s see… Do I pour you another one and close my eyes about you planning to leave without paying, or do I do what anyone else in my position would do and call the police on you? Hmm…” she pretended to think, her eyes never leaving JJ’s now panicking ones. “Please don’t call the cops,” he blurted out, the whiskey hitting his brain and making him stress out more than he wanted to admit to, “Look, we - we were in a boat accident, we don’t even know how we got here, hell - we didn’t even know where we were up until 10 minutes ago! And we - we don’t have  any documents on us, we don’t have any sort of identification, what would you -“ “Relax, kid,” the girl smirked, picking up two glasses and pouring a generous amount of whiskey in both of them, “I won’t rat you out.” She said, handing JJ one of the glasses and raising hers for a toast. JJ clinked his glass with hers, a large smile growing on his face, his dimples becoming very prominent, “Thank you, really… That means a lot.” The girl took a moment to observe JJ, then to look at his friends having a heated conversation at their booth, all of them practically stuffing their faces with food in an almost animalistic sort of way. Could this boy really be telling the truth? Could these kids have been lost at sea with no place to go? She looked back at JJ who was also looking at her. Despite the smile plastered on his face, she could clearly see that he was extremely nervous still. “Hey,” she said, “I told you to relax, didn’t I. I won’t charge you for your food, in fact… I might even have a place for you to sleep and clean up tonight.” JJ’s eyes grew wider at her words, “You what?” She leaned in closer to him over the bar and lowered her voice so that he would be the only one to hear, “Hotel upstairs, my aunt owns it. She’s currently out of town with my cousin. Should be back next Thursday. I think I can fit you and your friends in. You just have to promise to be on your best behaviour.” She said, pulling away and taking another sip from her drink. JJ couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was too good to be true. She was hot and she was willing to help? This must have been his lucky day. Sarah could suck it, and so could the others. Clearly this girl was into him. Why else would she be offering to help? “So, uh, what’s in it for me?” He asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. The girl opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the other waitress groaned from behind her. “Samara, how many times do I have to tell you?” Her croaky voice rang. The girl, who JJ had just learned was called Samara, rolled her eyes and repeated with her colleague, “No drinking on the job, yeah yeah, I know. But Heather’s gone and so is Conner, so who can tell me what to do, really?” She said, finishing what was left of her whiskey, “Besides, Georgia, as far as I’m concerned, since they’re both gone, that leaves me in charge, no? Now get back to work,” she said, making her colleague roll her eyes at her. Samara turned around to face JJ again, giving him a wink, before disappearing into the kitchen. JJ couldn’t believe his luck. He swung his arm over the bar and picked up the bottle of whiskey to pour himself one more drink before returning to his friends. “Guys-“ JJ tried getting their attention. “So what are we supposed to do now? We’re totally screwed!” “They’re gonna call the police on us, hell, they probably already have! The cops could be on their way!” “Guys!” JJ yelled, catching even the bikers’ attention. His friends looked up at him, worry filling all of their eyes. “You’ll never believe what I’m about to tell you, oh, and Sarah? You can eat your words.” He smirked before telling them what had just happened. “Hold on,” said Kiara, her face revealing her confusion, “So this random girl in this random place just randomly said that we can crash here until when?” “Next Thursday, or was it Tuesday? What day is it today?” JJ scratched his head. “JJ!” Kiara slapped his arm, “What if this is a trap? It sounds too good to be true doesn’t it? Like, what’s in it for her? We don’t even know her! What if she’s a murderer or something?” “She’s right, you know,” Cleo chimed in. “She is,” said John B, “But we have nothing to lose, literally.” Pope nodded, “I’d usually agree with Kie, but John B’s right. We have nothing to lose. And what if she calls the police? What could even happen then? We get put in jail for agreeing to sleep in a hotel for free? Come on, guys, I’m sure we can all agree that a bar of soap and a normal bathroom would do us good. I mean, we stink.” Everyone laughed at Pope’s remark before Kiara turned to JJ again, “So what’s the plan?” Realisation just struck JJ that he didn’t in fact know what the plan was. Samara had told him virtually nothing about how any of this would go down. Where were they supposed to meet? Was she going to take them to their rooms? Would they all be sharing one room? He was so busy thinking about how all of this would go down, he barely noticed Samara herself passing him a note. It was taken out of her colleague, who JJ now knew to be Georgia’s notepad. The note read in messy handwriting:

Bring your friends to the lobby. Straight down the hallway by the bathrooms. 

JJ turned the piece of paper towards his friends and they all got up, rushing towards the hallway by the bathrooms.

[undercoveravenger]

Glass Ceilings

Pairing: Actor!Hamish Duke x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Original Request: “Hi for the fairy tale au could you do a Cinderella kinda story where he has a bad family but then against their wishes he goes to a party and meets the famous actor and singer hamish duke and they fall for each other”

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Hamish Duke hated parties.

Well, that wasn’t really true; he didn’t hate all parties, just the galas his mother threw to raise money for one charity or another. Hamish really didn’t mind that the parties benefitted charities, but he didn’t like the way that the wealthy people who attended them used them as an excuse to show off just how much better than everyone else they thought they were.

He would avoid them if he could, but with his newly-found fame brought on by a lucky break in the entertainment industry, his mother had started dragging him along to all of her over-the-top events since she thought that her son’s fame would drive up attendance.

Of course, she had been right about that, but that also meant that Hamish spent the duration of each of the grand balls hosted in his family’s manor being mobbed by people that were far too old and had been married far too long for him to feel comfortable dancing with them.

It was one such night and Hamish had only narrowly escaped the clutches of Mrs. Smith, a wizened old woman with beady green eyes who always dug her overly-manicured nails into his shoulder when he danced with her the way an alley cat might sink its claws into a mouse, when he ran directly into one of the servers. The waiter’s tray tipped at the sudden impact, spilling champagne over them both.

(E/c) eyes widened almost comically behind the uniform black mask that all of the staff were wearing as he realized what he’d done. “I’m so sorry,” the waiter exclaimed, seeming torn between trying to wipe the champagne away with the decorative towel slung over his arm and being too nervous about ruining Hamish’s suit further to try. “Are you alright?”

Hamish chuckled, the first genuine laugh that had escaped him all night. He was nearly as surprised by the sound as the (h/c) that had accidentally assaulted him. “I’m fine. I’m tougher than I look,” he teased.

“Well,” The (h/c) started, “That’s good to hea-”

He was interrupted by the sound of an older woman shrieking, calling out loudly for someone to help her in the kitchen.

The server winced, panic flooding his otherwise beautiful (e/c) eyes, and Hamish felt the sudden urge to intervene. He peered over the crowd in an effort to track down the disgruntled woman before he reached out, taking the stranger’s wrist in his hand and gently tugging him along behind him until they’d made it out of the ballroom.

“Where are we going?” Hamish’s new companion asked, clearly confused. “I should really be getting back to work before my manager has a conniption.”

“Your manager, huh? Was that the lady that was yelling for you?” Hamish asked, curious what could possibly make someone work for someone who seemed so mean. “Why do you put up with her?”

The stranger nodded slowly, like he was afraid he’d give too much away. “I don’t really have a choice.”

“Really? Surely there’s better options out there,” Hamish protested, thinking back to the way the woman’s face had flushed red as she bellowed at her employees before the event had started.

He shrugged, tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of his jacket as he tried to focus on anything but the conversation. “She’s also my mother.”

Hamish stopped in his tracks, stunned. He turned to look at the former server with wide eyes, “Your mother…? How is someone as nice as you related to someone like that?!”

His companion huffed a light laugh and Hamish felt pleased that he’d been able to brighten his mood, “Well, technically she’s my step-mother, but she’s all I’ve got left and I can’t really pay for college without a job so…” He shrugged again, brows furrowing as a thought hit him, “Hey, you never said where we’re going?”

The blond grinned, tugging a fraying tapestry out of the way to reveal a hidden hallway. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t even know your name,” he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest protectively.

“Well, that’s easy enough to fix,” Hamish grinned. “My name’s Hamish Duke. What’s yours?”

“(M/N),” he answered reflexively, eyes widening as he recognized the name. “Wait, Hamish Duke? Like the actor? Like the son of the lady hosting the party?”

Hamish laughed, nodding. “Yes, just like that.”

“I’m dead.” (M/N) said resolutely. “I’m dead because my mom’s going to kill me when she realizes that I spilled champagne all over one of the most famous people in the state.”

The blond rolled his eyes, cocking his head toward the tunnel again, “You coming with me or are you on your way to the graveyard?”

“Very funny,” he started, cutting himself off as his step-mother’s voice echoed down the hallway. “I’m right behind you.” Hamish grinned, taking (M/N)’s hand in his and tugging him along the hidden path behind him.

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Moments passed in almost complete darkness and companionable silence as Hamish led you through the twists and turns of the hidden tunnel, until finally the two of you emerged out into a dimly lit room with the furniture pushed back and out of the way, leaving the center of the room bare.

“What is this place?” You asked quietly as Hamish released your hand and made his way to the center of the room.

He hummed his acknowledgement softly as he started to unbutton his suit jacket, tossing the wet garment aside and sprawling out on his back to look up at the ceiling. “Come join me?” he asked quietly.

You followed his gaze upward, breath catching in your throat as you realized what this room was meant to be. Instead of finding an ordinary ceiling the way any other room might have, the ceiling here towered above you in an arching dome made out of crystal clear glass, allowing the two of you a flawless view of the stars.

“Wow,” you breathed, edging forward to lay down beside him. “This is incredible.” “Yeah.” Hamish agreed, “Breathtaking.” You couldn’t bring yourself to check, but the weight of his gaze had you suspecting that he wasn’t talking about the stars. He remained quiet for a long moment before letting out a quiet sigh and beginning to speak, “I used to come here a lot when I was a kid. When my problems always felt so big and it seemed like that was all there was, I’d sneak up here and look up at the sky and it would remind me that there’s more to life than the moments you feel trapped.”

You hummed softly as you pondered his words. “It’s hard to imagine that someone like you could ever feel trapped,” you mused.

Hamish laughed, tipping his head toward you so he could look at you, “I wasn’t always an actor. I am a law-school dropout, y’know?”

Your brows furrowed incredulously as you turned to meet his eyes, “Really?”

Hamish nodded solemnly, ocean blue eyes glimmering in amusement, “Oh, definitely. I spent a lot of time up here after my father found out about that decision.”

You hesitated as you realized just how personal this observatory was to him, eventually forcing yourself to ask the question that had been weighing on you, “Why did you bring me here?”

“I’m not sure,” he said after a moment of thought. “Does it sound crazy if I say that it felt like I was meant to know you?”

You shook your head, turning back to face the glimmering stars. “No. I think things are meant to happen for a reason.” You huffed when your phone chimed in your pocket, wincing when you noticed your step-mom’s name as the contact before reading the text. “I have to go; the party’s ended and the staff has to leave. I’ll be lucky if I’m not fired when I get home.”

“Everything happens for a reason, huh?” Hamish murmured under his breath, eyes fixing on you determinedly as you pushed yourself back to your feet. “Hey, you said you only work for her to pay for college, right? What if I offered you a better job?”

Your brows furrowed as you turned back to look at Hamish, “What are you talking about?”

“Your stepmother? You only let her treat you like that because you need the money?” Hamish prompted, getting to his feet and moving to stand before you, “What if I make you a better offer?”

You smile but shake your head, getting ready to refute his questions.

Hamish pressed on, interrupting your line of thought, “I’ll give you ten thousand dollars if you agree to go on a date with me.”

Your heart stopped in your chest as you struggled to comprehend what Hamish had just told you, “Hamish, no. I can’t accept that-”

“Please,” he said, taking your hand gently in his. “You deserve so much better; give me a chance to give you that.”

As the clock began to chime midnight and the stars glimmered merrily through the shining glass ceiling, you leaned forward to kiss Hamish, resolving to yourself that, even though you weren’t going to take the money from him, this would not be the last time you saw him.

[heliads]

Daughter of the Storm (Part Two)

Based on this request: “The reader is Wanda daughter but separated from Wanda because of hydra. reader gets called by sword to rescue Monica because she has similar power to Wanda. in the hex she is Agnes daughter and Wanda realizes that is her daughter and tries to get her back but Agatha does want to leave reader because the reader reminds Agatha of her dead daughter who her mother killed.”

part one / masterlist

For the first few seconds, all you can see is scarlet. It swims before your eyes, dancing tantalizingly within arm’s reach. Think of all the power you could have, it says, all the power that is right here in front of you. A lesser man would have caved and tried to take it all in, but you hold fast. You have seen what power does- it corrupts, it tears away youth and family until you are all alone. Running towards power is like running towards a raging thunderstorm, and so you continue walking forward and the voices eventually melt away into the background once more.

After what could either be ten seconds or ten minutes, you make your way through the barrier. Your feet are deposited onto lush, crisp stalks of grass, and you look around you in apprehension. You glance behind you once, as if to check that your exit route is still there. When you twist around, you see the looming wall of glitching red sparks still present as always. Good- you don’t much fancy the idea of being stuck here.

As you step further into the controlled Westview, you reach out with your mind. Almost immediately, you’re swamped with words and thoughts. Your eyes widen as you take in the streets- although you can see everything in vivid color as usual, every second step the air seems to ripple into shades of gray, as if a filter is hovering over the town. You suppose that makes sense- according to Darcy’s research, Wanda is still moving her way through the 60s, so the town would seem to be in black and white to keep up with the cameras.

Also, if you try hard enough you can read the script to the show with your mind. You close your eyes for a second, allowing the storm of thoughts to race over you. There are directions for neighbours to head to different corners of the town, for a Mr. Hart to speak to Vision at the office, for Wanda herself to head downstairs and speak with a Geraldine. That name piques your interest- Darcy told you earlier that Wanda seems to have cast Monica as Geraldine, and she’ll likely not remember you at all. Well, that puts a damper on your plans- you were hoping to swoop by Monica and take her with you. You don’t dare approach Monica while Wanda’s there, so you’ll just have to wait.

However, just standing in this field on the outskirts of town isn’t a good option either. For every second that you remain here, not catering to the whims of the show, it’s like you can feel a thousand eyes turning your way. If you stay for much longer, Wanda will notice that someone in her gilded little suburbia is acting strangely and come deal with you herself. If you’re forced to come in contact with your mother, you don’t intend for it to happen this way.

Honestly, you’re not sure what you want to happen with Wanda at all. Do you approach her, or ‘accidentally’ let your paths cross? Would you take the chance that she would recognize you, perhaps swallow the pang of agony if she didn’t? Or will you do your best to avoid her, giving up the one chance to meet your mother outside of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s meticulous control? You’re not likely to have another chance like this, when Fury can’t reschedule you and the Avengers won’t be steering you away. Are you willing to take that leap and finally speak to your mother for the first time since you were small?

Even the thought of Wanda is enough to send you spiraling back to that dark night in Sokovia, the last time you had seen her in person. You can still feel the scream raw on your throat, the sensation of your arms being torn from her embrace. It was this one moment of utter anguish that had caused your powers to spark into being, so what would it be like to meet her again? 

There’s a drone in your head as the persistent whisperings magnify, and you frown in irritation. Even when she’s speaking to a neighbour, Wanda is unconsciously able to detect someone with powers like her, and the farthest reaches of her abilities are already taking steps to cajole you back into the script of the show. Fine- you might as well play along. It won’t do you any good to be caught right now, not when you need to be helping Monica.

You reach out along the threads of Wanda’s control, tapping and testing for something to relate to you. You had seen how quickly Monica was enveloped into Wanda’s spells, so your mother has likely already cooked up a role for you without even thinking about it. Sure enough- after a few moments of careful searching, you find the stream of consciousness devoted to you. Your name is the same, unlike Geraldine, but you’re meant to be on the opposite side of town, living with your ‘mother’ by herself. You frown to yourself- is this some instinctive knowledge of Wanda’s? Why would she send you to live with a mother, especially one who lives right next door to Wanda herself?

You shrug to yourself. If you’re meant to be living this close to Wanda, you’ll likely find out yourself. You recognize the name of your pretend mother- it’s Wanda’s best friend, Agnes. Wanda would probably be dropping by to visit at some point, and you’ll have to decide whether to flee or to feign bewilderment upon meeting her for the first time. You snap your fingers as an afterthought, changing your modern S.H.I.E.L.D. military uniform to a classic afternoon dress of the 60s. Hey, if you’re trying not to stand out you might as well look the part, right?

After a while, you find yourself standing outside of Agnes’ home. You pause by the door, feeling suddenly self-conscious. What are you supposed to do? You’re not under any mind control, as your powers are too similar to Wanda’s for the spell to have any great impact, and for once, you’re wishing your abilities would just go away and allow you to seamlessly blend into the script of the show. You don’t know how to playact with the other characters of Westview, pretending you’re just a gal from the 60s. After another moment’s hesitation, you reach out and knock on the door. Two sharp taps, and then it swings open.

You’re face to face with a dark-haired woman. She wears a cardigan over a plaid dress, and a large brooch lies obvious at her throat. You stand there for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. “It’s me, Y/N. Your, uh, daughter.” The woman’s eyes flash with surprise as she sees you, then fade quickly into a knowing smile. Were it not for your training as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, you might not have seen the sudden glint in her gaze, of pain and acceptance and a fierce knowledge that shines too brightly for a thrall in Wanda’s spell. You feel a ripple of unease wash over you. “That’s right, dear. Absolutely. I’m so glad you’re back again! I’ve missed you so.” Agnes extends her hand, and after a moment, you take it and allow her to lead you inside.

Agnes gestures for you to take a seat on an overstuffed sofa. You sit down gingerly. Agnes bustles around in the kitchen next door, preparing something that looks vaguely like iced tea. “So, sweetie, what brings you back to town? I haven’t seen you in so long. Mother’s missed you.” You freeze for a second, reaching back out to wind your fingers around the threads of information hovering in the air. According to Wanda’s plan, you were gone on a vacation with a group of school friends, and so you tell your ‘mother’. 

Agnes beams at that, chattering on and on about how she’s so glad you’re expanding your worldview, and wouldn’t you please have some tea, it’s getting so hot out there! She hands you a cup of iced tea and stands there expectantly. You’ve been in a lot of dicey negotiations before, and you know better than to accept beverages from strangers, especially strangers who seem to know a lot more than they’re letting on. Yet with every moment that you hesitate, Wanda’s spell seems to press down on you, and Agnes’ gaze burns into you. You have no choice but to drink, no matter how iffy you feel about it.

The second you down your first swallow of tea, Agnes visibly brightens. “That’s a good girl. You have to stay hydrated, you know?” The strangest thing is happening to you. You’re not sure why you felt so worried before, so stressed, and over what, a cup of iced tea? Everything is perfectly fine. You frown slightly to yourself. You would never be this relaxed in a stranger’s house. What’s gotten into you? But this isn’t a stranger’s house, you remind yourself, this is your mother’s house. Your mother, Agnes, who has been separated from you for so long. You smile enchantingly at your mother. “I’ve missed you for so long.” When Agnes returns your gaze, her smile is not as cloying or honeyed as yours. Instead, it seems to curve with a twisted glee, as vindictive and victorious as a wolf.

After a while, there is a knock at the door. You’re not sure how long you’ve been back at home with your mother, and you’re not sure that it matters. Why would it matter, anyway? The only important thing is that you stay with Agnes and you never leave. It would hurt her so if you left. You stand to answer the door, but Agnes beats you to it. “Don’t worry about that, hon. I’ll get it.” Agnes flings open the door to reveal a redheaded woman, whose smile grows as she greets her friend. “Agnes! It’s so good to see you. I figured you’re always dropping by, so I might as well return the favor.”

Then the woman’s gaze travels past Agnes to rest on you, and her face instantly drops. She stares at you, all pretense of politeness gone. She does not speak for the longest time, and when she finally opens her mouth, her voice is a crack of sorrow and yearning hope. “Y/N?” You walk over to her, holding out your hand. “Absolutely right! I’m staying here with my mother, Agnes. What’s your name?” You’ve followed all the rules of social etiquette, yet the woman still seems taken aback at your words. You can feel your smile hardening on your lips. What should you do now?

After a moment, the woman straightens again, forcing a smile. “I’m Wanda, nice to meet you. Agnes is your- your mother?” You nod, looking back at Agnes with a grin. “Yes, isn’t she the best? I’ve never met somebody who makes me feel so safe. It’s like I don’t even have to think about anything at all. Why would I?” You laugh heartily, but Wanda doesn’t return your smile. She stares at you intently, and you get this odd rush in your head, as if there’s a new mind beginning to roost in the attic of your thoughts.

Wanda’s hand reaches out to wrap around your wrist. “You know what, Y/N, I’d really like to get to know you. What do you say we go on a nice stroll around the neighbourhood?” You look to Agnes for approval, but your mother seems displeased. “I don’t think so, Wanda. I’d rather her stay with me. I just got her back, you know? I don’t want to give her up so soon.” Agnes walks forward to guide you away, but Wanda’s hand remains locked around yours. “Did she come to you, or are you forcing her to stay?”

Wanda’s voice is cold and cruel. Agnes’ gaze returns the same ice. “I’m sure you don’t know what you’re talking about. How about you go home to Vision instead? I’m sure you’ll forget about this whole thing.” As the two women speak, you have the strangest feeling that they’re not just talking about a walk, but something bigger. They’re naming threats without speaking them aloud, trading hidden warnings without going to the trouble of actually promising harm. One thing’s for sure, which is that you don’t like the idea of being in the middle of it.

You open your mouth, ready to defend your mother, yet a new belief echoes through your lips. “Actually, I think I would like to go with Wanda.” Your hand flies to your mouth. That wasn’t what you meant at all, yet it seems so true. Why are you here with Agnes, anyway? Weren’t you supposed to be here for someone else? Wanda sees the sudden confusion in your eyes. “Look, she knows something is wrong. Let her go, or I swear I will destroy this entire town with you in it.” Agnes scoffs. “And ruin your little daydream? We both know you wouldn’t dare.”

Wanda speaks in a low hiss. “She has been taken from me once before. I would trade my life before I let it happen again.” Agnes returns her gaze. “And so would I.” Her arms close around you, yanking you back away from Wanda. There’s a split second where you’re broken away from Wanda, where your hands are outstretched towards her even as you’re pulled away. Your eyes widen. This is familiar, this is too familiar. You have seen this before, but it hurt a lot more. You were smaller then, because you were young and you didn’t want to be taken away from-

You were being taken away from your mother. Wanda, your mother. Your head tilts back in shock as your memories crash over you in a wave, the dam of Agnes’ spell finally breaking. You were sent here by S.H.I.E.L.D. to rescue Monica, and you had been turned aside by Agnes. You yank your arm away from Agnes. “You aren’t my mother. You tried to control my mind?” You laugh bitterly. “I am too much like my mother. You cannot tame me forever.”

You turn back to Wanda. All of your anger seems to drain away from you and you stand still, mouth silent. This is the moment you’ve been looking forward to for years, yet now you don’t know what to say. Wanda, too, remains quiet, but she seems to have an answer. She steps forward, wrapping her arms around you and drawing her close. Your eyes flicker closed. It has been so long since you’ve seen her last, yet she’s just as vivid as you remember. Then Agnes makes a sound behind you, and you feel Wanda’s grip tighten around you, as if she can protect you by keeping you close to her.

You gently break away from Wanda’s embrace, whirling around to face Agnes once more. It’s strange- she looks at Wanda with such vitriol, yet that hate dissipates when she looks at you. You speak to her quietly. “Why did you do this? Why would you keep me here?” Agnes remains silent, gaze shifting between shades of anguish and betrayal. You reach out a hand, stopping just before your fingers brush Agnes’ forehead. Then you stretch out with your powers, forging a connection between your fingertips and Agnes herself. With a cry, you’re plunged into Agnes’ memories.

She is not Agnes now, she is Agatha. She is a witch, standing before her coven, begging and pleading. No matter how many times she calls and cries, they will not answer her pleas. There is a young girl before her, strapped to a stake. Agatha is being forcibly held back, although with every passing second she lunges forward, trying in vain to reach the girl. It is her daughter, of course, that is tied to the wooden stake. It is her daughter that will be punished, for Agatha is too powerful and the coven does not dare kill her themselves.

The leader of the coven steps forward, the hems of her dark robe brushing against the packed earth. Agatha turns to her desperately, her voice in turn cajoling, begging, threatening. “Please, mother. She is my child, your own blood. Do not take her from me.” Agatha’s mother does not stray from her course. “You knew the rules and you broke them. You knew the punishment and you continued with the forbidden studies. If you have anyone to hate, it is yourself.”

Agatha’s mother raises her arms and power begins to flow through them. Across the clearing, the other members of the coven do the same. Blue energy slices into the young girl, who cries out in agony. Tears roll down Agatha’s cheeks, and she does not stop fighting her restraints even after the girl’s head slumps against her cheek, a faint trail of blood leaking from her eyes, mouth, and nose. She is dead, Agatha knows that, yet she still keeps hoping that if she would just be able to break loose, the girl would stand up again and her heart would begin beating once more. 

The girl does not, and the last of her blood is emptied from her veins. Dimly, Agatha is aware that more warnings and chastisements are being directed her way, but they do not matter. All that matters is the dead girl before her, the girl that had once been her living, breathing, wholly perfect daughter. She is unbroken no more.

Y/N’s head snaps up and she removes her hand. Wanda glances at her, curious. “What did you see?” Y/N considers Agnes for a moment, then shakes her head. “Do not be too harsh on her. We should all just forget this and move on.” Wanda furrows her brow, but Y/N steps to the door. “Being alone is enough punishment for her. We can be happy by ourselves.”

Wanda follows Y/N back onto the street, where mother and daughter finally face each other one last time. Y/N looks down, unable to meet her mother’s gaze. “You know I have to leave. I was not sent here to stay.” Wanda’s voice is quiet. “I know. You can have Monica back, she will leave with you.” Y/N’s eyes raise, meet her mother’s. “I wish we could have had more time.” Wanda’s smile is bittersweet. “We will. I know this won’t last forever. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Y/N nods. “I’ll be waiting for you. Don’t take too long.” Wanda touches her hand to Y/N’s cheek one last time. “I’m proud of you, I hope you know that.” Y/N leans in to her mother’s touch. “I do. Goodbye, Wanda.” Wanda smiles. “Goodbye, Y/N.” The agent takes one last look at her mother, then turns and walks away. A woman joins her from the street, and they both walk back to the outskirts of town, to the awaiting barrier. They step through without another word.

Once Y/N and Monica arrive on the S.W.O.R.D. side of the boundary, the mind reader is swarmed with questions from the surrounding agents. She brushes them all away. Her job here is done, yet she will stay a while longer. She intends to catch up with her mother after this, and she must be here when the daydream collapses. Even storms must stick together, after all.

Marvel / Wanda Maximoff / Daughter of the Storm tag list: @mmarinog​, @coollemonsaresour​, @mionemymind​, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​, @mycosmicparadise​  

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Twilight Facet [暮光之境] Date Translation (Prologue)

“I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I suddenly felt like he exuded loneliness unlike any other.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *6✩ Inspirations have 6 Endings!! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

It was the dead of winter.

The car was driving out in the suburbs. Beyond the windows of the car was a never-ending flurry of snow that seemingly piled up in white heaps all around.

MC: Achoo!

My top half was utterly drenched. Shuddering, I drew the thick overcoat closer to my frame.

Evan: Do you need me to turn the heater up?

MC: No need. Your coat's plenty warm enough… Achoo!

Evan inclined his head, glancing at me in concern before speeding up.

Evan: Just bear with it for a little while. We're almost there.

MC: Okay…

I sniffled with care, feeling the heating within the car work its magic as the warmth rushed at my face. Finally, I felt some semblance of warmth.

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About what was probably 2 hours ago, Evan and I had taken his car to the neighbouring City to visit a large-scale Contemporary Art Exhibition.

However, we’d crossed paths with a sound-activated waterwork not long after entering the venue… Safe to say, I ended up being drenched to the bone, much to my surprise...

And that was how our much-anticipated trip to the Exhibition came to an abrupt close…

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Evan skillfully manoeuvred around a corner and a Victorian-style building appeared before my very eyes.

MC: Huh? Didn't you say that you were going to bring me somewhere where I could fix myself back up for the time being?

He chuckled lightly, slowing his car in front of the gates.

Evan: It's too late to be heading back to Guangqi City now. It was more convenient to come here.

Evan: Don't worry. This is my home.

Evan helped me gather up his overcoat, which had become slightly slippery from the water. He then helped me up the steps to the Villa with his arm around me.

The huge door swung open, and a middle-aged man and woman came up to greet us. They were both dressed in matching uniforms and carried an air of poise and elegance around them.

Surprise coloured their faces upon seeing Evan standing there. They moved to give him each a deep bow and curtsy, respectively.

Middle-Aged Man & Woman: Welcome back, Sir!

Evan smiled and gently took the lead.

Evan: (Y/n), meet Uncle Chen and Aunt Wang.

MC: Hello, it's nice to meet you!

They both glanced at us before quickly exchanging a knowing look at each other. The joy on their faces seemed to brighten a tad.

Middle-Aged Man & Woman: Hello, Miss (Y/n)!

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Only when we'd entered the warm confines of the Villa, did he willingly let me out of his grasp

Evan: How about you go get yourself changed first and come find me after?

MC: Okay!

Evan: I'll be leaving her to you then, Aunt Wang.

Aunt Wang: Understood, Sir. Please follow me, Miss.

I followed Aunt Wang down the hall. She slowed her pace until she was side-by-side with me. She occasionally snuck a couple of glances over at me, the amusement reflected in her eyes only growing ever more potent.

Aunt Wang: He doesn’t come here often enough. I and Old Chen here have not seen him for a very long time now…

MC: But Evan said that this was his home. So why hasn’t he been back in that long?

MC: Oh! Is it because this place’s too far from Guangqi City? He’s always so busy, so he probably doesn’t have enough time to drop in often…

Aunt Wang: You really do know him well.

MC: …...

Aunt Wang: This is actually where he grew up. That being said, he only lived here for a short period when he was still very little.

MC: I see. So this was where he lived as a kid?

Aunt Wang: Yes. But, he was the only one here back then, so he's much better off now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

She laughed as she said that, pushing open a door and leading me straight into a room.

She took a set of neatly folded clothes that had been set onto a tray from the tabletop, respectfully offering it to me.

Aunt Wang: Miss (Y/n), I'll be taking your clothes for a quick dry cleaning.

Aunt Wang: We don't have any new sets of clothes here other than the uniform, so I do hope you don't mind...

MC: Of course not! Thanks.

With Aunt Wang's aid, I soon managed to change into a set of clean and warm clothes. However…

The black satin dress snugly fitted my figure. It narrowed at the waist and stopped at the ankles. Embellished with a white apron, it came with a hint of unspoken warmth and playfulness.

Aunt Wang: Your figure is splendid, as do the way you carry yourself, Miss. Even when dressed in clothes like this, people can tell that you're special just by a glance.

MC: You're flattering me…

Aunt Wang: He has instructed that you are free to enter and leave the Villa at will. You can do as you please here.

Aunt Wang: I'll send your clothes up to you once they're done dry-cleaning.

MC: Sure, see you!

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding after Aunt Wang left. I stretched and moved my body, which had been tense ever since I entered the Villa, around.

Suddenly, I caught sight of something else on the tray where the uniform had initially been from the corner of my eye.

MC: Glasses?

I took the glasses, slightly suspicious about their whereabouts. I suddenly recalled seeing Aunt Wang and Uncle Chen wearing identical pairs… Is this also one of the rules set in place here?

Seeing how I was dressed similarly, I paused to contemplate the glasses for a few seconds before carefully slipping them on.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After that, I left the room. I had only just stepped out of the door when I bumped into Uncle Chen, who was carrying an exquisite tea set and seemed to be in a hurry.

Uncle Chen: Miss (Y/n).

MC: Hello!

He nodded at me and made his way past me. However, he soon swivelled around and stared at me in slight surprise.

Uncle Chen: You've tidied yourself up?

MC: Yep, yep!

Uncle Chen: Brilliant!

Uncle Chen: Pardon me, Miss (Y/n). I have a favour I'd like to ask you. May I?

MC: What is it?

Uncle Chen: You see, I'm just about to send his drink up to him, but the fireplace just so happens to require new coal to keep the fire going...

Uncle Chen: Aunt Wang said that she'd get onto it as soon as she finishes up on her end, but she has never done it before, so…

Uncle Chen: Changing out the coal is a rather complicated task, so I'm a little worried...

MC: I'll just take the drink to Evan for you. I'm going to look for him anyway.

Uncle Chen: Thank you! His room is the one at the end of the hall.

MC: It's nothing much, don't worry about it.

I took the tray over from him and walked towards Evan’s room.

Stopping in front of his door, I freed a hand and knocked on the door.

Evan: Enter.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I gently turned the knob and headed inside. A faint fragrance greeted me, washing over my face.

It was a very wide room, but it wasn’t decorated in an equally luxurious manner at all. It was sparsely furnished and was chic and elegant.

Evan currently had his back to me, reclining on the sofa as he flipped through a book. The soft light fell upon him, making him look as gentle and elegant as ever.

I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I suddenly felt like he exuded loneliness unlike any other.

Am I just imagining it?

I blinked, shaking my head to clear my head of the strange thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I slowly approached him, placing the delicate, yet exquisite-looking tea set from the tray onto the coffee table.

Evan: Same as always. Not too thick.

Saying so, he flipped to another page. His gaze was still trained to the book.

Hmm? Does he think I’m Uncle Chen? Seeing how serious he was, I suddenly thought of pranking him.

I carefully poured a small portion of the thick drink from the teapot into the cup, added some hot water, and stirred. I served him the drink once it was thoroughly stirred.

MC: ...Please enjoy your drink, Sir.

Evan’s hand froze midway through turning the page. He slowly raised his head, his eyes filled with sheer disbelief.

Evan: You…

I winked playfully at him.

MC: Sir, it’ll turn cold if you don’t drink it while it’s still hot.

The amusement in his eyes became more pronounced as he took a sip from his cup, shooting me another glance.

Evan: Why are you here for this?

MC: I met Uncle Chen along the way. He was rather antsy about wanting to deal with other matters, so I decided to drop in with the stuff he was going to bring in.

Evan: So that's how it is.

He nodded, chuckling softly when his gaze fell to my clothes.

Evan: Why are you dressed like that?

MC: All my clothes were sent to be dry-cleaned. Aunt Wang said that we’d dropped in on too much of a short notice that there wasn’t time for them to prepare any suitable clothes.

MC: Still… It's my first time wearing something like this. Do I look weird?

He smiled, stretching out a hand to adjust my askew glasses.

Evan: Not at all. You're very adorable dressed like that.

I momentarily stiffened as he did his thing before smiling back at him and deliberately moving my face closer in front of him.

MC: Glad that I didn’t scare you half to death, Sir.

Evan: And why are you still calling me that?

MC: Well… Isn’t it fitting, considering how I’m dressed now? Plus, Aunt Wang and Uncle Chen address you like this too.

MC: Speaking of, is this thing a rule or something here?

Evan: …There used to be many rules set in place here, but it's much laxer now.

MC: I see… Then, what about aromatherapy? Is that also a rule? Or is it something done on a whim?

I wrinkled my nose and sniffed the air, suddenly a little curious about the lingering fragrance.

MC: What a peculiar scent; and only in your room. Is this one of the rules and regulations here?

Evan smiled, shaking his head.

Evan: Uncle Chen was the one who lit it. He probably thought that I’d take an afternoon nap, so he made all the preparations for it.

An afternoon nap? I glanced at the clock and saw that it was the perfect time for a lunchtime nap.

I…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]  

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 + 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

[suganovakawa]

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader , slight hajime iwaizumi x fem! reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : cursing , car accident , recovery from amnesia

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐍

he knows what could happen if you remember. he’ll do anything to prevent that.

word count : 1.6k

saudade masterlist .

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀whatever iwaizumi was thinking, he certainly had no logic. honestly, he probably would've been better off just not telling you a thing about oikawa. after all, he should've known from the start it's in human nature to want to push past restrictions forced upon them. and as much as it pained him, he knew he had messed up bad, his anger getting the best of his common sense and regretting it a day later.

⠀he knew you were curious about your boyfriend.

⠀rather, the boyfriend you didn't even know you had.

⠀from the very beginning, hajime could see it in your eyes - the natural attraction your body held as you and oikawa first exchanged short glances towards each other in class. volleyball had taught him to be quite the observer, and you made no effort in being subtle. unfortunately for iwa, oikawa noticed your innocent curiosity as well.

⠀he was afraid to ask you more about what you remember. it was different from the first day you had woken up from your coma, you were completely out of it so your muddled brain couldn't have remembered nor recollected much. now that you were spending regular time at school, just like normal, your memories might have just resurfaced sporadically. as far as hajime knew, you remembered everything, just pretending like you're still suffering from memory loss.

⠀but he knew you weren't like that. you wouldn't do that to him.

⠀you two weren't best friends before the accident, basically just friendly acquaintances who shared the same pain in trying to make the aoba johsai volleyball captain learn how to stop and take a damn breather. you had made it quite obvious in the past that you were an admirer of oikawa's, much to hajime's dismay - but he suppressed such feelings, in fear he'd be seen as too selfish.

⠀and he paid the price by seeing you happy in oikawa's arms.

⠀maybe iwaizumi was biased, but tooru really was more on the shitty side when it came to being a boyfriend. he had asked his peer countless times why he had accepted your feelings when he knew he didn't have time for a relationship; and every single time, hajime would get the exact same answer:

⠀"she made me happy at the winter tournaments, i'm only returning the sentiments."

⠀does causing your car accident count as making you happy?

⠀seeing how determined tooru was to get close to you again, pissed hajime off. what was there to be pissed off about, though? if this was a game, iwaizumi was winning. oikawa lost everything, from his reputation to his girlfriend. hajime was on his way to making you happier than tooru ever could. there was no competition here - he had this hook, line, and sinker.

⠀at least, he should have it in the sinker.

⠀a part of him knew, deep down, he was always default to second place. even without your memories, you still had your conscience, that internal voice in the back of your head that still held its senses. and if your conscience was stupid enough to adore oikawa even after everything he's done to you, how could the ace possibly fight against it? you could've died. and it would've been oikawa's harsh words as the true perpetrator.

⠀he wanted to prove a point to himself, you, and oikawa. that he was worth it. that you shouldn't have to waste your time with a scumbag who took your adoration and admiration for granted. the entire team knew that tooru wasn't the type to put anything over volleyball, and he displayed that when it came to your guys' relationship. while the captain was deserving of any praise he received that was volleyball related, hajime knew that it was unfair for you to be neglected because he spends so much time and energy on it.

⠀"hajime? are you listening to me?"

⠀he turned his head towards you, your words shaking him out of his daze. he blinked a couple of times and sat up, turning his head so his attention was fully on you. "sorry, y/n. a bit tired today. what do you need?"

⠀"huh? i don't need anything." you shook your head. "i was telling you that makki and mattsun were inviting me to go out with them today, just out to eat so they can also fill me in on random things, and to talk a little more. i said yes because they seem nice enough, and you seem to trust them, so i didn't have a reason to say no. i just wanted to tell you because i'm not going to be walking home, so you don't need to take me today."

⠀hajime's heart dropped to the abyss in his stomach.

⠀you were going to what?

⠀he knew exactly what those two were planning on telling you, and he was not having any of it. panic bubbled and almost erupted out in the open, but he saved himself with a deep breath and a plastic smile, nodding his head slowly. "right, i trust them... yeah. you have fun with that." you appeared happy with what he said, giving him a quick hug before walking off. he waited for you to turn the corner before walking off on his own, his jaw clenched and his destination set.

⠀"iwaizumi, where's - " hanamaki was grabbed by the tie as the brunet glared at his former teammate, his eyes anything but nice. "what are you doing? let me go. i'm supposed to be meeting - "

⠀"i know what you're fucking doing," he spat, his grip around makki's uniform only tightening. "this isn't just some random meeting. y/n asked you for this meet up, didn't she? she wants to know stuff, and figured you two would willingly comply." he laughed, more of a mocking volume. "and what do you know, she was right."

⠀"iwaizumi, let me go." the male with pink hued hair snapped more sternly the second time around; hajime hesitated for a few moments before reluctantly releasing his grip on his fellow third year, who pressed his lips together as he fixed his uniform hastily. "you got us," he muttered, his eyes finding iwa's. "she came to us during lunch and kept asking us. you were already on your way back to the table so we simply told her we'd tell her after school. that's all."

⠀"that's all, my fucking ass." pointing an index finger in takahiro's face, hajime shook his head. "you better not tell her about oikawa. she's much better off without that piece of shit in her life."

⠀"but she has a right to know."

⠀iwaizumi's face paled, taking a step back as makki crossed his arms. holy shit, he was serious. he and makki were going to tell you everything. "she's a big girl, iwaizumi. she wants to remember her life before the car accident. i can't imagine what she's going through, having her memories blacked out like that. i know if i was her, i'd want to know every single detail." makki's eyes narrowed. "including the memories that could hurt me."

⠀hajime's hands clenched into fists as he shook his head again in protest, sticking his foot out to prevent the other from walking forward. "over my dead body will i let you do that. the last thing she needs is a reminder of the nightmare he put her through. you won't tell her a fucking word about it."

⠀"or are you just scared you'll lose her to oikawa again?"

⠀just that question was a punch to the stomach as hanamaki observed iwaizumi's reaction. a corner of his lips protruded upwards as he stared at the other male in the hallway, the truth so horribly obvious. "doesn't take an idiot to see how set you are in making y/n fall for you. using her amnesia to your advantage to brainwash her into forgetting oikawa and becoming her new boyfriend... i was on your side at first, iwa. now? you're being just as shitty as he is."

⠀"don't you fucking compare me to him. i'm not like him, and i will never treat her like shit."

⠀"maybe not like shit, but she's certainly more like a prize than an actual person in your eyes."

⠀takahiro watched the frustration boil to hajime's face, taking a deep breath and walking around him before he could be stopped again. "if you excuse me, you made me late. i'm sure y/n will - " he grunted as a sharp pain grabbed hold of his wrist, his eyes widening slightly as hajime seethed at him, jaw clenched and face glowing angrily.

⠀"i said, you're not telling her anything."

⠀"who's going to stop me?"

⠀iwaizumi's smile was anything but pleasant as he pointing towards the school entrance. "mattsun and y/n are waiting for us, right? we shouldn't leave them waiting for too long."

⠀makki's breath hitched in his throat at the realization and cursed to himself quietly, shaking his head as he had no choice but to pull hajime along with him. "your logic is fucked up. y/n is nothing but a trophy for you to show off."

⠀"y/n means more to me than what you could ever hope to understand. keep walking, bastard."

⠀"hajime? what are you doing here?" your face revealed genuine surprise as he had appeared right beside hanamaki, releasing his iron grip on his wrist before exiting aoba johsai. "i thought you were walking home?"

⠀he could see the silent exchange of glances going on between the other two, and he could tell by matsukawa's quiet but exasperated sigh that he understood what was going on. iwaizumi pretended to not notice, however, as he moved to stand next to you. he saw the confusion flickering within your irises, how they were averted towards the ground instead of looking at him. if only he could tell you how important you were to him and why he was acting this way for your own good, maybe you'd understand his side better.

⠀"i figured since i was hungry, i'd join you guys. after all, we all trust each other enough to discuss anything, right?"

a / n : second post today! promised it would come out soon 🥳 ALSO, THANK YOU SM FOR 900 FOLLOWERS !!! it truly means the world to me that you all decide to stick around my profile, i promise i’ll do the best i can to provide content worthy of your attention 🥺❤️

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[smeraldos]

Love by Daylight (1/2)

➸ characters: Seokjin x Reader

➸ genres: Sailor Moon!AU, fluff, sort of e2l

➸ tags: sly friends, petty enemies/secret crushes, running away from the mortifying ordeal of being known

➸ words: 2K+

➸ summary: The day you find out who your suave partner in saving the world is, you're absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure you'll be over the moon. You'll be so happy you'll think you're dreaming. Turns out you're right. You do think you're dreaming. Because this? This can't be real. You're being pranked. Someone, somewhere, is going to jump out and say you're on Candid Camera. (Please.)

>> PART 2

When the lights fade and the facades fall, this is what you’re left with: Tuxedo Mask without a mask, you without your moonlit glamor. Tux the civilian is handsome, you can tell, and this is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for.

He lifts his face.

The youma's words come rushing back: Let the truth be known, the city’s deepest secrets shown.

Tuxedo Mask is none other than Kim Seokjin.

Suddenly, you’re reminded of a crystalline city; people bowing before you; Seokjin taking your hand, your matching rings gleaming in the light. Was it a memory or a dream?

You stand there, dumbfounded, until Tux/Seokjin dons his mask and brushes past. “Come on, Sailor Moon,” he says, sensible enough to use your alias. “The coast is clear. We’ve got a fight to finish.”

☾

“Why does it have to be Seokjin?" You whine, collapsing into bed and disturbing your sleeping cat. (In your defense, he was on your pillow. Which you’ve told him numerous times not to lay down on because his fur would shed.) Luckily, Agust is acquainted with your dramatic side and simply gets up to move.

“Well, why do you have to be Sailor Moon?” He points out. “It could have been someone less bothersome.”

“Hey,” you retaliate. “You’re the one who came to me. You could have given anyone the Lunar Key.”

“I didn't have a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t? You could have walked away and picked someone better, just like that.”

He scoffs. “Not when it’s the Queen.”

“Queen-schmeen." You flop back onto your bed, the springs creaking in protest. "I bet Her Royal Highness is on her throne right now, all nice and comfy. She couldn't care less."

Agust doesn't reply.

At first, you think it's because you've won and nothing else can be said, but when the silence stretches on, you know something is off. You sit up to see Agust no longer curled into himself, but sitting. He stares out your window into the night, his normally keen eyes empty. "She's dead."

Judging by his somber tone, she'd meant a lot to him. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

Agust sighs. "No need to apologize, kid. She was your mother, after all."

"My mother?"

"Not now," he amends. "But she was a long time ago, when you were the princess of the moon and Seokjin the prince of the earth.”

☾

The next morning, you head to school on time.

Your mom—present day mom—was surprised to see you up early, and Jeongguk called you out like the bratty brother he was (wow, no morning run today?), but the truth was you couldn’t sleep.

Last night, Agust recounted your past, how the dark eclipsed the moon. Although the queen tried her best to protect the kingdom, it was to no avail. Seokjin died in the fray, and you fell shortly after, helpless to save your beloved. In the end, the queen sacrificed herself to give you and Seokjin another chance at love, her people another chance at happiness.

A chance to rebuild the Silver Millennium.

The thing was, you didn’t know if that was what you wanted. Not that you’d want the Dark Kingdom to reign, but you weren’t sure whether you wanted to rule in your mother’s stead. Or marry Seokjin. Past you might have wanted to, but the you now could barely stand him. And neither could he. Or so you thought. You’d gotten along just fine with Tuxedo Mask, even grown a crush, but that wasn’t enough to warrant a marriage.

“Hello? Veen to Selene*?” Someone nudges your shoulder, and with a start, you notice Mina looking at you in concern.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing yet, but it looks like you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”

You’re about to tell her when you see Seokjin approaching, his uniform blazer neatly pressed.

“Morning, ______,” Seokjin says. “Mina.”

“Morning,” you reply, ready for whatever biting remark he’d say next. But once Namjoon comes up, he leaves. That's it.

Even Mina, who hardly sees the two of you interact, notices. "That's the first time I've seen you guys polite. It's weird. What happened?"

After a discreet look around, you grab her by the elbow. “He's Tux,” you hiss, but Mina doesn’t look the least bit shocked. Her face breaks out into a giddy grin, like a child who’s finally tall enough to get on the big kid ride.

“You knew?” You ask, a little hurt she didn’t tell you.

She pouts, squishing your cheeks together. “Don’t be mad. You don't know how hard it was to keep it a secret.”

◑

You don't blame Mina, for the most part. It would have been better if you hadn’t known who Tuxedo Mask was, and vice versa. You felt like Cinderella running away from the ball, her beautiful dress giving way to rags and ratty shoes. If the prince caught up to her then, she’d probably be humiliated.

Just like you are now.

Tuxedo Mask has seen you at your most embarrassing moments, fighting to have the last word (or milkshake) as Seokjin, and also at your best, saving civilians with grace. You've only wanted him to see the best of you, for him to think of you as the perfect wonder-girl heroine everyone else saw you as, but he's seen almost every side. You don't know what he sees in you now, if anything. And frankly, you don't want to know.

"Have you ever thought that maybe he's thinking what you're thinking?" Mina asks. "You've seen all the good and bad in him, too."

"But it's different when he doesn't have a crush on Sailor Moon!" You say, exasperated.

"Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about that if I were you."

Seokjin thinking of your alter ego that way is embarrassing, but considering he's also Tuxedo Mask...now your face is red, you can feel it. Red as roses in bloom. "You're joking, right?"

"Why don't you wait and see," Mina replies, as cryptically as when she was Sailor V and you hadn't known any better. Having sympathy for you, she gives you a warm smile. "Don't stress out too much, Moon. You're amazing either way. Just talk to him."

◑

You think there's some reconnaissance to sort out first. When you walked into Crown Arcade and saw Seokjin talking to Jimin pretty intently, you didn’t want to interrupt...okay, who were you kidding? You chickened out.

But Jimin is his best friend, so he'll know how Seokjin feels the most, right? It's the next best alternative to actually speaking to Seokjin, which, well, you aren't ready for. Case in point: you've done the impossible and made yourself scarce. You aren’t about to break your streak now.

So the instant Seokjin leaves, you walk up to the counter. Jimin looks up from sprinkling a milkshake. "Hey. The usual?"

"Yeah, just double on the chocolate."

"You got it," he says, passing the drinks he finished making to a server. You watch him blend milk into ice cream, then reach over for a new cup to pour the mixture into later. It's all done with practiced ease, and you marvel at how quick he is, not to mention how beautiful the finished milkshake looks after. The chocolate is perfect, the whipped cream a cloud of snow drizzled with dark syrup.

Jimin slides it over with a grin. "Mademoiselle."

"Why, thank you," you say, digging in with gusto. This is exactly what "stressed is desserts spelled backwards," meant: Jimin's milkshakes never fail to kick your worries down a notch.

"Good?" He asks.

"Mhm," you mumble, more to your milkshake than to him, when the thought that you haven't paid yet crosses your mind. Oh gosh. You pull your purse onto your lap, but Jimin chuckles, stopping you.

"I've got it covered. Besides, I heard you weren't yourself lately."

"Really?"

He shrugs. "From the way you're devouring that, it's kind of hard to believe…"

You take an extra large mouthful to prove his point.

"But you only lay on the chocolate when you're bummed," he finishes, and you’d protest if you hadn’t made it a habit to drown your sorrows in his milkshakes. They were just too good to resist. Not to mention Jimin is a great listener. Your girls, although you love them, aren't always the best. You'd catch the moment they crossed over from attentive to "Is she done yet?" but with Jimin, you've never had that issue. Turns out you have a different one.

"I hate how perceptive you are."

He laughs. "You're just predictable."

"You know what? You can take back your milkshake and go back to work," you say in a fit of grumpiness, pushing the glass back to him.

"Are you sure you want me to do that?"

You meet him eye to eye. After a minute—a long, impressive minute might you add—you take it back. "Fine. What do you want to hear?"

"Anything you want to tell me. And if it's something you can't share, please tell someone you can. It's not great to keep things bottled up, trust me."

You sigh.

"Here's the deal," you begin, feeling a little weird telling your old crush about your new one, but marching through nevertheless, "I met someone on...online. He's nice and funny and understands me even though he's different. I just click with him, and eventually, I want to tell him I like him. The thing is, I don't really know who he is. We've been chatting on Discord and his profile picture is Tuxedo Mask, but he can't be Tuxedo Mask. Or maybe he is, who knows?"

Jimin laughs. If only he knew.

"Anywho," you continue, "I meet him and find out he's someone I actually know...but he's a pest. He always gets on my nerves and it's like he's a completely different person! I don't even know how that's possible, but apparently it is and it's just so frustrating."

Jimin doesn't speak for a while, which is fine by you. You take the time to jam spoonfuls of chocolate and cream into your mouth.

"You know," he finally says, amused, "that sounds a little like the plot to You've Got Mail."

"That isn't funny.” You huff. “Joe Fox was a jerk and I don't know why they played him off as charming."

"Isn't that what you think of the guy?"

"I never said he was a jerk."

"But you said he was a pest."

"That isn't the s—" You pull at your hair. "Ugh. I don't know anymore."

"Did you talk to him?"

"And what? Spill my complicated feelings?"

"No, just talk to him. You don't have to confess right now. Just air out the laundry and see where you guys are at. Chances are, if you're confused, then he's confused, too, and there's no way either of you can get out of it without talking to each other."

"I can't talk to him, Jimin. I avoided him for three weeks! He's going to hate me."

"He isn't," Jimin says firmly, and you wish you could have the same conviction. "Sure, he'll be upset, but if he's really someone who cares, he'll listen. Look, during that time you avoided him, did he try to reach out?"

"Well, I told him I didn't want to talk and he stopped asking."

"So he'll listen. If it turns out he hates you, give him a piece of your mind and I'll give you triple chocolate milkshakes on the house."

When he puts it like that, talking to Seokjin doesn't seem as dreadful. "You're not just saying that?"

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

You get your answer when someone comes trudging in, holding up a bag from your go-to fast food joint. "Jimin! You better be grateful I drove all the way downtown to get you these burgers. Since when did you like ______'s favorite, anyways?"

"Since now," your traitor of a friend says. You glare at him, which he conveniently ignores.

"You're the best," he tells a surprised Seokjin, leaving with a pat on his shoulder. "Enjoy your meal!"

>> NEXT

...

note:

*Venus to Selene, like "Earth to [insert name]?" but replace Earth with Venus and [name] with Selene, Greek goddess of the moon

[lastwagontrainhopper]

Behind every man

Royai week day 4 - Communiqué (I know it’s like Wednesday but due to time zone difference my head is still in Royai Week)

Summary:  

"Al looked up from the newspaper. His voice had sounded excited, but he now had a shocked look on his face. "Roy Mustang is getting married."

Ed's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" He slowly walked into the living room, digesting the information. "Well, I guess it was about time. I wonder how he convinced Riza, though."

"He's not..." Al shook his head, his eyes back on the pages. "He's not marrying Riza."

"What?" "

---

Behind every great man is a great woman. In Roy's case, there needs to be two: one for the heart and one for the politics.

Words: 4653

Tags: Angst, truly unnecessary angst, Fake Marriage, Roy and Riza can't catch an emotional break, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Politics

read on aot

"Ed! You're not gonna believe this! ”

Edward was busy with breakfast when he heard his brother call out to him. It was a typical Sunday morning in Resembool, and a joyful racket reigned around the house: the eggs and potatoes were sizzling, the kids were chasing each other between rooms, and metallic clanks coming from outside told them that Winry was already busy in her workshop.

"What?", Ed shouted back over his shoulder. No answer came; he put the pan down, wiped his hand on a towel, and went to peek his head in the living room, where Al sat every morning to read the newspaper. Ever the diplomat, he kept up with Amestrian affairs even during his vacations - unlike his brother who couldn’t care less. "What?" Ed repeated.

Al looked up from the paper. His voice had sounded excited, but he now had a shocked look on his face. "Roy Mustang is getting married."

Ed's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" He slowly walked into the living room, digesting the information.  "Well, I guess it was about time. I wonder how he convinced Riza, though."

"He's not..." Al shook his head, his eyes fixed on the newspaper. "He's not marrying Riza."

"What?"

Al laid the newspaper flat on the table. "Look: "It is with great pleasure that the Fuhrer-President Roy Alexander Mustang, son of Francis and Lian Mustang, announces his betrothal to Ms. Margaret Evans, daughter of Sir Timothy Evans and Carla Esposito. The ceremony will be held on the 27th of July at the National Opera House in Central. ", etc.  “

Ed reread the sentence several times, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He had never heard that woman's name before. "Margaret Evans...Is that one of Riza's cover name? Or her legal name maybe?"

“I don't find so," Al answered, frowning. "Isn't her full name Elizabeth? That's what they use when they go undercover, anyway."

"This makes no sense." Ed tossed the towel over his shoulder. "I'm gonna give him a call," he said resolutely, walking up to the only phone in the house.

It was Sunday, so he called Roy's apartment. When that got no answer, he called his office on his personal number, where he got a busy signal.

"I'm betting everyone in Central is trying to call him right now," Al said, watching him grow impatient. "It is quite the bombshell to drop in a Sunday newspaper."

Right. Sometime Ed forgot that Roy was the leader of one of the most powerful nation around. "This better not be another of his twisted political scheme," he muttered with his ear on the receiver.

Al crossed his arms, leaning back on his chair. "On the contrary, I hope it is. Because otherwise, it would mean that this is a genuine announcement. "He paused and looked up at his brother. "You don't think that it could really be..."

"No," Ed shook his head with confidence. "Of course not."

He had seen Roy and Riza only a few months prior. A couple of times a year, the two of them would find an excuse to come to Resembool for a weekend without any of their personnel. They came to visit Ed and his family, of course, but it was also an opportunity for them to spend time away from the public eye and the hectic bustle of Central.

And, of course, a rare opportunity to openly exists as a couple, if only for a few days.

Ed thought back on the way the two of them were behaving on their last visit, and he could not imagine that Roy would truly want to marry anyone other than Riza.

"Roy Mustang speaking."

The voice in the receiver jolted Ed out of his thoughts. "Mustang!" he called out, louder than he intended. "What the hell is this?"

He heard a sight. "Good morning to you too, Edward." Roy’s office seemed busy than usual - Ed had trouble hearing his voice over the noise from the background.

"Let’s cut through the pleasantries, alright? We saw the announcement on the paper."

There was a short pause. "Ah. Well, if this is about my wedding, I accept your congratulations, however unconventional."

Ed's foot tapped on the floor impatiently, but he kept his voice calm. "I'm not calling to congratulate you, Roy, and you know it. I'm calling to ask for an explanation. Since when do you..."

"Edward. " Mustang's voice interrupted him firmly. "It's not very pleasant to have this kind of conversation on the phone. Why don't you come by Central? We could discuss this in person - and I know the Captain would be glad to see you."

Ed paused and bit down a scathing reply. He let out a defeated sight instead. "Sure. We'll....we'll see you there."

The line went dead before he could hang up. He still slammed the phone on the receiver with force, for good measure.

"I knew it," he said to Al cynically. "It is another one of his schemes: he didn't want to talk about it on the phone. And it seems like Hawkeye’s on it."

Al nodded slowly. "Of course. Roy would never do something like this without her approval.” He looked down on the newspaper with a pensive expression. "I'm guessing he wants to use the wedding to boost his image. But still...I didn't imagine he would go to such length. ”

"I don't know why he's doing this, but he better have a damn good reason. Come on, Al, we're catching the first train to Central."

---

Ed and Al had never seen Central Command in such a state of frenzy. The chaos that reigned on the floor of the presidential office was of a very different kind than the cozy, domestic one they had left : phones were constantly ringing, officers were running around with their arms full of documents; and everyone was shouting to communicate over the tumult. Two soldiers watched the door to Mustang's office. Without a State Alchemist pocket watch or an uniform, Ed and Al were initially denied access; Al had to rummage through his bag for an attestation of his status of diplomat to get them through.

Inside the presidential office, it was even worse. Dodging an officer that came to ask their business, Ed made his way through the crowd like a bulldozer until he reached Roy's desk. The president was on the phone; he nodded to them as he noticed their presence, then returned to his conversation.

A few minutes later, Roy hung up and turned in their direction.

"You got here quickly," he greeted them. "Edward. Alfonse, nice to see you."

"It's been a while," Al replied warmly; Ed nodded. Roy’s attitude was nonchalant, as usual, but he couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes or the tension in his shoulders.

Roy smiled apologetically. "Sorry for the mess. As you can imagine, things have been a little hectic since the announcement came out. But," he glanced at his clock and stood up, "it's past noon, so I think I deserve a lunch break. How about we grab something and go eat in my study? I could use a little peace and quiet.”

His study, the only place in Central Command that Roy trusted not to be bugged. Right.

"Riza - I mean Captain Hawkeye isn't here with you?" Al asked, looking as they were leaving his office.

"If you think my office was busy, you should see hers,” Roy answered with a slight smile. “She insisted to be named head of security for the wedding, so she has started coordinating the whole thing. I doubt we'll be able to catch her for dinner - it'll be lucky if I can convince her to get some rest for the night. "His tone was joking, but somehow lacked conviction.

Walking down the hallways, Roy called out to an employee and asked him to bring three lunches to his study. The officer saluted, then ran off to the cafeteria. Perks of being the president, Ed guessed.

As they entered the president’s study, a small but gorgeous room filled with ancient bookshelves, Ed noticed with surprise that Roy had brought a stack of documents with him. He put them down on the varnished wooden desk and began to glance at the one on top, as the employee entered the room to drop off sandwiches. That was unprecedented. Ed and Al had never seen Roy as overworked - but then, in the years they had worked for him, they had rarely seen him work at all.

When the officer had left the room and the door was safely closed behind him, Roy opened one of the drawers at the bottom of his cabinet and rummaged through it for a few seconds, pulling out a messy pile of paper.

"Take a look at this."

He tossed a couple of newspapers on the desk in front of them. They seemed to be from various of the biggest gossip magazine of Central, and even a couple newspapers. The headlines were all short, bold, to the point. "The Fuhrer's string of affairs continues," "The Hawk's Eye: the new presidential scandal?", "Is Mustang sleeping with his staff? Exclusive testimony from ex-military", "Turmoil in Central Command over speculation on Fuhrer-President's relationships". They covered a period of several months, the earliest going back half a year.

Ed frowned and let the papers fall back on the desk. "So? This isn't an explanation."

Roy looked up from the document he was reading. "I heard you were pretty smart, Edward. I'm sure you can figure out the rest." Now that they were in private, his tone had become noticeably less polite and more snappy - even more during their usual exchange, it seemed.

"What, you're upset that some journalists are writing about you and Riza, so you're marrying someone else to throw them off? Are you insane?" Ed shook his head with frustration. "Since when do you care about what the media says about you anyway?"

Roy didn’t raise his eyes. "I’ve cared about it ever since it started threatening my position, Edward.”

"Your position is not democratically elected yet, as far as I know," Ed replied stubbornly.

He growled. “It’s not that simple, Ed.” Roy put down his document for good, resting his forearms on the desk. The sandwiches laid next to him, already forgotten. "Listen. Since I've entered the military, I've purposely built a reputation as a womanizer and a slacker, so that the higher up wouldn't feel threatened by me." He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "It worked a bit too well, I guess. Now, the nationalists are trying to portray me as a depraved, scandalous man with no respect for traditions, so that they can discredit my democratic reforms in the same way.” He frowned, and his expression darkened. “They've already exposed my relationship with Chris all over the newspapers, smearing her bar and her reputation. Now, they’re using Chris’ informants to paint me as a skirt-chaser who constantly sleep around – and not to mention with his subordinates.”

"But there have always been rumors, right? " Al asked cautiously. "Even in Xin, I've heard about it several times.”

"Yes, but never of that magnitude. And never targeting Riza so precisely." He looked away, embarrassed. "We got careless. Journalists caught me leaving her apartment one morning, and the rumors have been crazy ever since." Ed winced. They had always been worried that something like that would happen. "You know, this is not just for my career. When the rumors were at their peak, reporters were scrutinizing our routines from morning till night. It was unbearable; we couldn't even see each other without risking getting caught." Roy took a long look at the both of them, one after the other. “This is only a temporary arrangement to make our lives easier. I know this may seem wrong, but it is the best option we have."

Al nodded slowly. He didn't seem that surprised by this whole affair; but after all, he must have witness similar - or worse - situations in the Xinese Court.

Ed wished he could take it as well as Al, but he couldn’t help feeling shocked. Roy's explanation was perfectly rational; he understood why they were doing this. But just imagining being in the same situation – and putting Winry through it – was making him feel sick.

"I can't believe you’ve convinced yourself that this your best solution." Roy gave him what seemed to be an exasperated look, which angered Ed even more. He raised his voice. "Isn't it bad enough that you and Riza can't live together? You really have to push the charade even further, marrying someone else? To, to spend years pretending to lead a normal family life of which Riza is not part off,  while she still has to work by your side?” Ed was on the edge of his seat, almost yelling now. "I mean, how can you do something like that to her? ”

"Edward!" Roy slammed his hand on the table, cutting him off. He had properly shouted, but his voice was low with anger. "It was her idea to begin with. She insisted on going through with this."

Ed paused, taken aback. "Really?"

Roy looked him straight in the eye. His tone was sharp as a knife. "Do you really think I would suggest a plan like this?"

No, of course not, Ed realized. He felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. It seemed obvious now: Roy would never make Riza go through something like this of his own volition. Despite his impassive persona, even Ed knew how soft-hearted he was when it came to those close to him. She had always been the one taking the harsh decisions in that regard.

"You're right,” he mumbled, sitting back. “Sorry."

Roy sighed, his anger replaced by weariness. "Don't worry about it. Everyone we told reacted that way."

After a moment, Al broke the silence. "You think people are gonna buy this? The wedding?"

"They are, if we do it right,” answered Roy without a doubt. “This operation has been long in the making. Margot and I started to go on dates a few months ago, making ourselves seen; we made sure those newspapers were writing about her well before we announced the engagement."

"And who's this poor girl who thinks she'll be marrying the President?" Ed asked with a scowl.

Roy gave him a long look. "Again, you have a very poor opinion of me if you think that this is what I would do, Edward." Ed felt a blush creep up his face, but he held Roy’s gaze. "No, Margot is a contact from Chris – thankfully, no one knows their connection.” He searched another of his drawers for a moment and placed what appeared to be a pamphlet for a theater play on the desk. “She's a lifesaver, to be honest: this plan would have fallen through if we hadn't found someone like her that perfectly fitted our needs."

"An actress, huh? Isn't that a bit obvious?" Ed picked up the pamphlet. On the front page was a picture of a woman in her thirties, long brown hair framing a round friendly face.

"She's an opera singer," Roy rectified. "But she has done acting, so she'll be able to play the part. She's sympathetic to our situation, and also her own interest in this matter: the marriage will give her some publicity to launch her career. And, most importantly, Chris trust her, which means we can." He put his hands together, elbows on the table, the posture he took when he gave orders to his subordinates. "I don't need to tell you how devastating it would be if her, or anyone, leaked out to the press the truth behind this wedding. All our careers would be over in an instant. Which is why I need you two to be extremely careful."

Ed winced as he thought back on what he had almost shouted over the phone this morning, or in Roy’s office. That would take some adjusting on his part.

He also guessed that Roy and Riza would have to stop their visits to Resembool for a while.

He cleared his throat. "And how long do you plan on keeping this up?"

"Not a moment longer than we need to, I can assure you. When my democratic reforms are implanted and solid, I will step down as President - that was already the plan." Roy stood and went to look out the study’s window, hands in his pockets. A smirk appeared on his lips. "If it was up to me, I’d file for divorce the instant I walk down the stairs of Central Command, but Riza think it would be too obvious - not to mention a bit improper, considering I plan to propose to her afterwards." He chuckled, then his face fell. "She thinks we shouldn't get married at all. That it would prove the rumors about us and tarnish my legacy - with those of my reforms. " He sighed and turned toward them. "But we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. ”

He walked back to his desk and laid his hands flat on it.

"In the meanwhile, while you don’t have to, we would appreciate it if you came to the wedding." Ed shot him a confused look. "You're still pretty popular with the people,", Roy explained, "and everyone knows you've worked with me in the past. The more of our actual entourage come to the ceremony, the more believable it will be."

Al glanced sideways at Ed. "Of course. We can be there; I imagine Ling will want to hear details about the wedding anyway. And, um," he addressed his brother more than Roy, "hopefully we can keep Riza company for a bit.”

Roy gave him a smile, the first genuine one since the start of the conversation. "Thank you."

----

Riza spent the week before the wedding having to repeat the same things over and over again like a broken record. She was fine; it didn’t bother her ; that was her idea to begin with. She told that to her old team, to the Elric brothers, to Rebecca; and most of all she told that to Roy.  She felt constantly on edge; she couldn’t stand the way people looked at her, as if they expected her to break down crying at any moment. "If you give me that sorry look one more time," she snapped at Roy one evening, "I'll lock you in your office until the wedding.”

It was driving her crazy. She didn't have time to waste with these conversations: she was the head of security for a national wedding, and she had so many tasks to deal with that she didn't know where to give her attention. Every moment of those days she spent on her feet, going from meetings to meetings, keeping tabs on the dozens of teams that were handling the various parts of the organization, making sure no detail was overlooked. Her days were so full that she didn't have time to stop and think; and in the evening she would collapse into her single bed, exhausted, and fall asleep almost immediately.

On top of all the logistics, she had to accompany the President and the would-be First Lady through the media whirlwind that preceded the wedding. Margaret was unknown to the public, and all of Central was desperate to catch a glimpse of the woman who had finally managed to tame Roy Mustang, the famous womanizer, and make him settle down. Both played their roles to perfection: Margot was charming, distinguished but not haughty, teasing Roy fondly; he played the helpless romantic, laughing with a bit of mischievous embarrassment when his scandalous past was brought up. They were funny, complicit, shy when they needed to be - as if they had a real private life they wanted to keep for themselves - and most of all, they were oh so in love.

Riza received a few interview requests herself, but only from the most shameless magazines, the same ones that had cheerfully dragged her name through the mud a couple of months earlier. She hadn’t bothered to decline.

---

The Central Times: There were… rumors, a bit unflattering if I may add, going around about the President turbulent love life. Has that ever been a concern to you, Ms. Evans?

ME: I had certainly heard about it, like everyone else. In fact, I almost refused his first invitation to dinner precisely because of that. (laughs) But it became clear to me very quickly that Roy...did not act the way I expected him to. And I think that realization convinced me to put my cards on the table. I told him, on our second date, that the type of behavior talked about in the papers was not acceptable to me. And that I would rather cut things off immediately if he was not willing to leave that lifestyle behind.

TCT : On your second date! You certainly know what you want.

(Both laugh)

RM: That is one way to put it! I think that was one of the moments I realized what kind of woman Margot was. And - I'm gonna be honest with you for a moment - as a Fuhrer, who spend his days ordering people around, I certainly appreciate a woman that can hold her own.

---

The big day finally arrived. Roy had insisted she didn't have to be there, that she could fake an illness or an emergency. Riza knew that wasn’t the case. The most persistent rumors were those that linked Roy to his bodyguard; her absence at this wedding would have been nothing short of glaring. In any case, Riza was so busy overseeing the course of the day’s event that she didn't even get to visit the soon-to-be-wed couple before they appeared during the ceremony.

They were gorgeous, of course: two attractive people in the elegance of their middle age, dressed by the best designers in Central, resplendent in their happiness. Roy wore the kind of suit he preferred, all black, very chic; Margot had a white satin dress with a long front and back neckline, the kind of dress Riza could never wear on similar occasions.

The kiss, the one everyone was waiting for, was as spectacular as the rest. They went all in, Roy tilting Margot backward until it looked like they were both about to fall down. It didn't bother Riza as much as she would have thought. Roy had never kissed her this way; this was an embrace for the show, for the cameras, while the ones they shared were always strictly for each other. The whole world had seen how the extravagant Flame Alchemist and Hero of Ishval kissed someone, and it had matched their expectations, but only Riza knew the way Roy Mustang kissed someone like he meant it.

She was grateful Roy went that way. She wasn't sure if she could have borne watching him kiss Margot with the same mannerism he kissed her.

And after that came the reception, the dinner, the dance. Dozens of people lined up to give their congratulations to the newlywed couple – mostly members of the aristocracy or the military who had never talked to either of them before - and Roy and Margot accepted their wishes with courtesy, pretending to be touched or delighted by their conversations.

Not for the first time, Riza thought to herself how she would dislike being in Margot's shoes right now. Having to maintain a facade of politeness throughout her wedding day, spending it with opportunistic strangers instead of her loved ones...she couldn’t have done it.

Truly, she was more comfortable behind the scenes as head of security than under the spotlight as the bride.

She watched them eat next to each other, chatting pleasantly with the other guests. She watched them open the dance, arms in arms, and even she felt touched by how beautiful of a sight they were, two stunning dancers gracefully moving across the ballroom like they were floating about the ground, weightless.

Some of her friends and comrades came to subtly check on her, asking again how she was doing. Many insisted to keep her company; but she was on duty, and too many tasks required her attention for her to be able to simply enjoy the night, she told them. At no moment during the evening did she let her guard down, checking in regularly with the security personnel, running patrols even as the evening calmed down and guests slowly started to trickle away, the married couple leaving to their private quarters and the staff starting to take the decorations down.

All night long, she remained the very image of professionalism.

---

Rebecca was the one who found her. She had taken refuge in a place where no one would dare come looking for her, in the bathroom of her hotel room, both doors locked. Obviously, this was not enough to keep her closest friend away.

Rebecca opened the bathroom door to find her curled up on the tile floor, her back against the wall, one hand pressed against her mouth. Even here, hidden from the world, Riza was still trying to control herself; but her body was shaking with shuddering sobs, silent tears running down her face and rolling over her fingers.

Even Rebecca had rarely seen her in such a state, at least not since her return from Ishval.

Her heart broke at the sight, as well as her voice. "Oh, Riza."

She fell down on the floor beside her. Riza raised her head and tried to wipe her cheeks with the back of her hands.

"I'm fine," she began immediately. She could hear how silly it sounded, for her to say that with her strangled voice and her hiccups. "I'm okay, it's just.....It's stupid." She shook her head, embarrassed. "I'm the one who suggested this. I don't get why I'm reacting like that, when I know that it doesn't mean anything..."

"Riza." Rebecca interrupted her with a voice thick with emotion but firm. "I'm gonna need you to shut up right now."

She complied and Rebecca put her arms around her, drawing her closer. Riza buried her head against her shoulders. For a few minutes, only the muffled sound of her cries broke the silence.  

"When are you seeing him?" Rebecca asked her softly after she had calmed down, stroking her back.

Suddenly, Riza felt an urge to talk to Roy. She had avoided him as much as she could for the past few days, unable to bear the way he looked at her, the guilt that transpired in his every move, his need to tell her those sappy things they never had to say before - how much he loved her, and only her, and how that would never change. But right now, for the first time, she needed to hear those silly, stupid words all over again.

She shook her head. "Not tonight. Too risky. We'll see how closely the journalists watch his house after the wedding, and decide when it's safe for me to visit him again."

Rebecca said nothing, still rubbing her back. Riza was already getting back to her normal, composed self, forcing her breaths to be long and steady.

"And…please don't tell him you saw me like this."

There was a silence, then Rebecca sighed. She shook her head.

"You know, sometimes I wonder why you two seem so determined to remain unhappy for the rest of your lives.”

Riza knew how to answer this. There were things that had to be done; work that had to be finished before Roy and her could be allowed to live for themselves. Damages they had to repair, sins to atone for.

But for once, these words seemed too heavy to say, and she was so, so tired. So, she said nothing.

[tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar]

Post It's

Pairing: JJ Maybank x You

Summary: JJ and you both work at the hotel. Never meeting each other, you leave notes on the others locker.

Word Count: 1,787

Warning: Fluff that's its tooth rooting.

Note: Knowing that JJ works as a bus boy in the show and seeing how well he looked in episode 5, I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Tumblr was keep messing up as I was writing this so I'm going to post this and throw my phone out of my bedroom window now :) I hope you love it! :)

━━━

"DON'T EAT SOMEONE ELSE'S LUNCH!"

"Or what? ;) - JJ"

"I'll end your whole career. Side note: I found out who ate my PB & Jelly sandwich and it wasn't you so don't get any idea's now. - Y/N"

━━━

JJ bullshit his way through the hiring process. It might not be his dream job, but it was easy. He had to do something when he realized he had to grow and man up. His father didn't teach him that. His the reason.

The small tips he gets from all the older women after he gives them more attention than their husband's - they're either on 'work' call or still playing a game of golf - doesn't hurt. It's adds up quick. He normally buys more groceries for him and John B as an unspoken thank you for letting him basically live with him. Then he treats himself with new weed. He needs it after surrounded by Kooks and playing the part of a little bitch for them.

As soon as he clocks out for the day, he undo the tie harshly. That's another thing he hates about this job - the uniform. White button up long sleeves, black dress pants with black dress shoes. If it's a morning and evening shift, the finish touch is a black vest. For nights, it's a black tie. Even if he is only walking around to give people refills, asking if they're doing fine, and cleaning up afterwards, his hair must look well put together.

He is unbutton his shirt when he stops in front of his locker. He's smiling at the post it on his locker before he even reads it. He knows who it's from.

It started a month ago. Someone left a message taped on the fridge in the break room for everyone to read. He knows he didn't have to, but he wrote down a response on the piece of paper. He wasn't expecting one back. When the front and back got filled up, he started looking for the same name on a locker. He left a post it note.

He reads the newest one on his locker.

"Fun fact of the day: you're reading this. - Y/N"

He rolls his eyes. He pulls it off and opens his locker, grabbing his normal clothes to go change. He adds it to the pile with the others.

JJ decides to stop at use book store. When a co-worker asks him if he is back for extra hours, he says no. He's carrying a shopping bag.

━━━

Your morning doesn't start on a good note. Your mind wakes you up ten minutes after your alarm should've gone off. You didn't plug in the charger all the way last night, so you're phone is at 14%.

Somehow you get to work on time. You notice you forgot your nametag.

At least there's a new post it on your locker.

"Funny. Not. Look inside and thank me later ;) PS. Don't write your new comb on the back of your lock again. - JJ"

You curse at yourself underneath your breath. You start laughing when you read the title of the book he left for you.

"365 Jokes For Kids: A Joke A Day Book."

You put it in your bag and grab your clear water bottle before closing your locker to clock in.

━━━

The giant clock on the wall taunts you. Only ten more minutes until your break and you can finally eat something.

From the dinner-room area a cute blonde starts walking towards you. By his outfit, you can't help to silent pray that he isn't a boy on a vacation and just knows how to look hot as hell all dressed up. Underneath a black vest, the long white button up shows off his muscles and the sleeves are rolled up, which is just another level of attractiveness itself, and his legs look long and firm in the dress pants. It's his hair that got your attention in the first place and now you can't help to watch as he pulls it, running his fingers through it.

Checking out cute guys all day is definitely a perk for you. Sitting behind a desk all day and being first person people see as they walk in, helping them check in or out, and answering calls is not how you wanted to spend your summer.

Last month your dad pulled some strings over a game of golf to land you this job. He sounds like a robot every time he tells you that you need to work your ass off to get the money you deserve. How is this doing that?

You get out of you thoughts when the cute blonde doesn't go in front of the desk. Instead you have to spin your chair sideways. He learns over the pull-up door and does a hand gesture, telling you to come over. You do.

"Hey."

"Hi?" It comes out as a questin since you're confused as to why he is keep looking back at the dinner room. He seems like he is afraid of getting caught. "Can I help with you something?"

"Can you make an announcement? Over the speaker loud enough for all they to hear?" He looks over again and points.

"It all matters about what you want me to say."

"Say that it's hard as fuck for me to do my job when lil Satan's are running around and how great it would be if parents tell them to stop before I do. I can't get written up or life my job because of them."

You try to hide your excitement when you find out he works here. He's not wearing a nametag. You know that it's only bus boys who don't. Briefly, you wonder if he knows JJ.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could but I can't. Parents will come up and start yelling at me that I should keep my mouth shut and thoughts to myself."

He clenches his jaw and mumbles, "yeah. Right, of course."

"When I come back from my lunch, you can-uh everytime you want to lose your shit, look over here, and I'll give you a thumbs up for not killing someone. Especially the kids."

His laugh makes you wish he is JJ.

Someone comes from behind him to release you. He doesn't say anything before walking away.

But later, you lose track on how many times he looks over at you and mouths, "help me".

━━━

The next day on his day off, he gushes over the front desk girl to his friends. "She made me not want to hurt a room of kooks. I think she has superpowers or some shit."

Kiara takes a hint of his blunt. "I'm kinda jealous, not going to lie. What's her name? I need her to tell how she did it after talking to you for only a couple of minutes when I've been your friend for years."

"I don't know. She wasn't wearing a nametag and I forgot to ask." Pope slaps him on the back of the head. "You forgot or worried she wasn't Y/N?"

"Oh my god!" Sarah squeals, "What if the front desk girl is also post it girl?"

JJ chokes on the hit he was taking. "Life doesn't work like that." For me. He thinks to himself. He makes eye contact with John B. Curse him for being able to read him.

"I think it's time to ask Y/N meet up, dude."

━━━

When he walks through the front doors, he catches himself getting upset seeing someone else at the front desk. He still waves and says good morning. On the door of the back room, there's a sign.

"MANDATORY STUFF MEETING WEDNESDAY, IN THE LOBBY AT 6PM"

On the very bottom, he notices Y/N handwriting.

"Looks like we'll finally meet. ♡ - You Know Who"

He kicks the door open.

━━━

He is still thinking about the stupid little heart when a waiter calls him to come over towards the kitchen. "Can you bring this to the front desk?"

"This isn't a drive in restaurant- you know what? I shouldn't be surprised and know not to ask stupid questions." He salutes the waiter and grabs the bag.

He stops dead in his tracks.

The front desk girl is now there, talking on the phone and writing stuff down. When she feels someone looking instantly at her, she looks up. She smiles and gives a small wave.

JJ cringes at himself and tries to not trip over his own two feet. He puts down the bag, and looks at everything and anything but her as he waits for her to finish the call. When she does, he quickly states, "Someone ordered food to get pick-up."

"Ah yes, Mr. Hough. He called saying he was carving for some of the all you can eat bread rolls."

When she says the name, it's like a lightbuld goes over his head as he remembers. He doesn't listen to the rest of what she says.

Before he can ask, the phone is ringing. "I should answer." She smiles and it makes him feel a tug in the corner of his mouth. "See you at the meeting tonight?"

"Yeah. I should go back to working too."

━━━

Your eyes go wide when the cute blondie sits next to you at the same time the manager says the meeting will begin shortly.

"Hey, how are you?" You ask after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Fine." He splits out.

"Doesn't sound like it." You cross your arms against your chest. He doesn't say anything, only rolls his eyes and takes his red snapback hat off. In the corner of your eye, you watch him pull on the loose trends.

Grabbing your bag off the ground, you open it to see what you can do to pass the time like him.

"Holy shit."

You look up at him, confused. You notice he is staring at the joke book JJ gave to you. With the way he makes eye contact with you, you can tell that he is nervous.

But why would he-

"Oh my god."

"JJ, Y/N." Both of almost get whip flash to look and listen to your manager. "Pay attention please."

━━━

You're going through all the post it's in your locker, dropping some when an arm wraps around you and your boyfriend. He kisses your cheek. "Are you ready?"

"To meet your friends? I'm kinda nervous. But you've told me so much about them that I already feel like I know them."

"Trust me, they'll say the same thing about you. Ignore the names they call you."

━━━

"You're the peanut butter to my jelly. - JJ"

"That's the cheeses thing you have ever said. Say more. - Y/N."

━━━━━━━━━━━━

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