#Margaret Shaw x reader

[a-small-safe-place]

She Likes a Boy, and I’m not a Boy.

Queen Maeve x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend joins the new superhero team, The Seven, and breaks up with you. This is loosely based on the unreleased song by Nxdia on TikTok. Literally just the “she likes a boy, I’m not a boy” part because a lot of sapphic people can relate to that line.

Margaret knew you were proud of her when she joined The Seven. You were proud of her for anything she did as “Queen Maeve,” but not in the same way her dad would be proud. You weren’t proud of her because it would bring you money or fame; you were proud of her because she was doing good in the world. You didn’t mind keeping your relationship quiet either. You understood that it could lead to more problems for you and definitely more problems for Queen Maeve if the masses found out that her secret identity was dating a woman, even when she was still a small-time hero.

She was fine keeping you a secret when she first joined The Seven, even once she and Homelander started their showmance. Margaret still would sneak around to see you. She would reassure you that it’s just for the cameras and that this was for the best for you two. That’s what Maeve thought, until Homelander made a move on her away from the cameras. She struggled to find the words to tell him no because she had been warned of the damage he could do when he got mad.

Homelander frowned, "No? Why not? You’re single, I’m single. We are both superheroes with super strength, so we don’t have to worry about hurting each other," he argued. Maeve noticed the way his eyes flickered with a strange emotion when he brought up hurting each other. Maeve wondered who exactly he had hurt in the past to warrant that reaction. The thought quickly left her head; she didn’t care about that right now.

"I’m just not looking for a relationship. I like my privacy," Maeve countered. Homelander scoffed as if the notion of privacy was ridiculous.

"Come on, the minute you became Queen Maeve, you lost your right to privacy. You know that as well as I do. I mean, come on, my secret identity, 'John,' only fooled people for a week. It’s going to be no time before they see 'Margaret' for who she really is," Homelander made it seem as if she had no choice.

Maeve finally agreed to "date" him, but she still wanted to keep seeing you, trying her best to keep you away from Homelander. She hated herself for having to do this, but she didn’t want to lose you. That is until she saw the damage Homelander could do if he was jealous enough. At a Vought party, a bartender had been flirting with Maeve. She knew the guy was trying to get tips, but she didn’t know Homelander was able to hear the man flirting, and Maeve laughed at a few of his cheesy jokes because they reminded her of something you would say. The day after, Homelander was being far clingier, and then the day after that, the bartender was found dead in his apartment, completely disemboweled. Homelander told her he did it. He said he was jealous because she’s never laughed with him in the same way she laughed with that bartender.

"I know you wouldn’t try to leave me, but the thought of you laughing with that bartender pissed me off," Homelander’s words felt like a threat. Maeve doesn’t sleep that night. She lays awake knowing that she has to break up with you or watch you be strung up by your intestines.

A week passes. Queen Maeve doesn’t contact you in any way. She can’t, not with Homelander being so clingy. Finally, she is able to slip away while he goes somewhere to help Black Noir. She arrives at your apartment.

Maeve knocks.

Before all this, she would just walk in and make herself at home. You open the door. "Margaret? I’ve been worried sick! You haven’t answered any of my texts or calls! I haven’t seen you in over a week," you scold her.

"We need to talk," she says with a plain face and a monotone voice. Maeve feels lucky she has had to master acting during her time as a hero. You let her in and shut the door. She takes a small survey of your space; she knows she won’t be in it again. Maeve wants to remember what she can.

"Is something wrong?" You ask; there’s a hint of sadness in your voice. You know what’s coming. Maeve turns around with a disgusted grimace painted on her face.

"I’ve been cheating on you," is all she says. It’s painful to admit; she wishes she could tell you she didn’t have a choice and that she’s doing this to keep you safe, but she doubles down. "With Homelander. Since our showmance started."

"Why, Maeve?" You ask, and Maeve’s acting fails her for a moment; she frowns. You always called her Margaret before and not Maeve. She responds with the first thing that comes to mind. "He’s a man. You’re not. You didn’t think I would actually stay with a woman? Our relationship wasn’t even real. We never went on public dates. You were never my long-term plan. Forget this relationship ever happened. You’re nothing to me." Maeve leaves without another word. She slams the door. She flinches, knowing you hate that.

Maeve goes home to drink. Homelander repeatedly asks her what’s wrong, but she just responds with "nothing, just having a drink." Eventually, he goes to his own room, leaving Maeve alone in her Vought-provided room. Maeve wants to cry, but she knows he is listening to her, so she continues drowning her sorrows.

Years pass. Queen Maeve is inescapable for you. She’s everywhere. You finally move on from your relationship with Margaret, choosing to tell people that your ex had died. After all, Margaret was dead; she was just replaced by Queen Maeve.

You feel a bittersweet feeling when you see Homelander and Maeve broke up because he was sleeping around. You felt a little bad for her. Getting cheated on sucked. You moved through your life unbothered. That is until she was outed by Homelander as a "lesbian," and then he name-dropped you as her girlfriend. For a moment, Maeve was visibly shocked, but her face quickly reverted to a painfully fake smile. He said your first and last name. You realized that you had also been outed to anyone in your life that would put two and two together.

The next couple of days your phone rang and rang and rang. Family members calling you. Friends calling you. Co-workers. Random numbers. They all wanted the same thing. The hot gossip on your relationship with Maeve. You got a few nasty emails and direct messages on social media from anonymous accounts that were telling you that you and Queen Maeve would rot in hell for your sins, and a few threats from people that were convinced you corrupted Maeve. You had to take some personal time from work. Maeve eventually showed up at your apartment.

"We need to talk." The last time she said those words to you, she practically tore your heart out of your chest. This time she didn’t wait for you to let her in; she just pushed past you. Just like the last time, she takes in your apartment. You had gotten quite a few upgrades for the apartment.

"Are you here because of the talk show from the other day?" You ask; if you weren’t irritated by the situation, your voice would likely sound sad. "Yes," is all Maeve says. So she’s not really here for you. She’s not here to apologize.

"Well, you can feel free to leave; I’m not a boy, remember?" The words are bitter when they fall from your mouth. You’re not thinking when you say it. "I don’t want you to hate me anymore. I wanted to be with you. I did, but if I stayed, I would have put you in danger."

Of course, she’s deflecting. "So you cheated for my own good? That sounds so stupid," you scoff.

Maeve becomes very serious. "Being a hero isn’t what you think. It’s not about actually helping people. It’s about being a product that can be sold and palatable for the masses." After she says this, you take a seat and wait for her to continue. "Most of the heroes are narcissistic assholes that have no business having powers. They’re dangerous, and Homelander is the most dangerous."

"Homelander? Seriously? He’s like Jesus or something?" It’s hard to believe the top hero is a monster.

"Please, believe me," she begs. Maeve begins to explain what happened with the bartender right before she broke up with you. Maeve explains everything that she can without possibly endangering you.

"Maeve, I had no idea," you tell her. "I know what I said and did all those years ago was unforgivable, but I didn’t want to risk you trying to come and find me again," she says, sitting next to you.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, "How did he find out about us?" Maeve’s brow furrows. "I’m not sure. Maybe Vought knew and had a file on you or something, and he found it, but he knows. I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but getting you in the public eye is going to be the best way to keep you safe. If the public loves you, it will look suspicious if you suddenly disappear or die. He won’t touch you right now, but this is a short-term solution." You don’t respond.

"Vought’s marketing team wants to meet you tomorrow. A car will come pick you up at 3:00 tomorrow," Maeve leaves.

[madwomansapologist]

Queen Maeve: fake dating

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synopsis: When the new member of The Seven and Queen Maeve made fans hearts go crazy, Vought decide that is was the perfect moment to a little fake relashionship. A saphicc couple would grant then so many points with the youngs and queers! They only didn't know that Queen Maeve had feelings for you. You also didn't know that.

notes: I did something different this time, hope y'all like it

warnings: female!reader. Vought deserve its own warning.

• You pinched yourself all the way to your first public appearance as a member of The Seven. That must be a dream! It happened before. While trying to sleep, at the shower, going to your mundane work: you imagine yourself on that position. But your pinches didn't wake you up. Fucking god, you are part of The Seven!

• Ashley helped you on the entrance surrounded by journalists and civillians. They were there... for you? They screamed your name, asked for pictures, thank you for all you did for them. You dreamed about a moment like this, but now it is true. It seens like you will need time to understand that.

• When you finally made it into the building, Ashley accompanied you while talking about how high your numbers with young women were and how your "new girl in town" energy made you popular with both men and women. What does that even mean? She grumbled that your name could have been better, Ice Princess was so basic, but at least it worked with kids. Your mind wasn't capable of holding all the information she told you, but you knew that when the lights went on you need enter the stage with Madelyn fucking Stillwell.

• It was different then the day Starlight was announced. Many women were on the stage talking about how the world need more women on important positions. Girl power! No one pronounced the name, but they were talking about The Deep. He was replaced after the horrible things he did to Starlight. Replace by you. Thats the reason why no other member of The Seven were there: Vought didn't want to appear like that story would happen again.

• Your first meeting with the team was... like being on heaven. Your heroes were right in front of you. Noir was just like you imagined: a mistery that would never be solved. A-Train sounded so mature, so knowing of the weight on his shoulders. Translucent weren't there, he was in a important secret mission. Homelander was some kind of Jesus. But not everything was perfect.

• Starlight seem... kinda sad. Almost melancholic. Maybe she wasn't on a great day. Maybe she didn't like you. That scared you, but you could be wrong. But there were her. Queen Maeve. They all were heroes, but she was your hero. The women you look up to. Your inspiration. And if Starlight seem uncomfortable, she seem enraged.

• Your tried to lie to yourself. To pretend that it was just your mind tricking you into thinking that everyone hates you. It would've worked if all the other heroes didn't seem to like you. And the possibility of you being just confused was ruined when you had to use the bathroom.

You faced Starlight when you walked out of the bathroom cabin. She was in front of the mirror arranging her gold hair, that wasn't even messy, and made eye contact with you. A odd taste rule your mouth, but you tried to mask your discomfort with a smile. She didn't smiled back.

Washing your hands, you felt her gaze. You dried them, trying not to look like you were about to run out of there (because you were), but her words stopped you. "Its your first day here", pointed Starlight. She sighed, now facing you. "I won't be able to sleep without telling you what I wish someone had told me when I was on your position."

Your smile was so big it hurt your cheeks. You were wrong. Starlight don't hate you. She was just worried. "You wanna give me advice?"

"Yes. I do", Starlight stopped herself. It was like she wasn't sure how to proceed. "You know that image you have about The Seven? Forget it. It was all made by the marketing team. Don't trust them. Don't you ever make the mistake of trust them."

And as quickly as it came, your smile faded away. "W-What are talking about?" You didn't notice your hands shaking. "Is it a hoax?"

"You seem like a good person." Starlight passed by you, walking towards the door. "I hope you don't make the same mistakes I did. But, if you do, I'm here."

And she left you alone with your thoughts. You gazed the door, waiting for her to come back and joke about how scary you look. But the only thing that you saw was the last bathroom cabin door opening.

Queen Maeve walked toward the sink, glaring at you with a look that you couldn't understand. It was like a parody of an affectionate look. Something that should be seem as friendly. She licked her rosy lips, washing her hands beside you.

"I wouldn't have warned you. But now that she did, guess its my turn to give you some advice." Queen Maeve stopped right in front of you. You looked up to be able to see her face. "Do not disturb me, princess."

• You quickly understood what Annie meant. It was all about money. They sold themselfs. Their bodies, their morals. It made you feel deceived. At least Annie was nice. She helped you. Annie said she was only doing what she wish someone had done for her, but a friendship between you both grown. If you only could said the same about Queen Maeve.

• Part of you feel betrayed. She was your hero. The reason for you to fight. All those times you felt like giving up you think to yourself that Queen Maeve would never gave up. But then all she does is discuss about copyright. The other part feel wronged. She is a woman after all. Shouldn't her be with you both? You can't stop to think about when Annie vented about what that asshole did to her. Maeve knew who he really was. Apparently everyone knew. She could've have done something. She could've have warned her. She could've have protect her. She could at least have supported her.

• Its like everyone say: never meet your heroes.

Ashley said that being on a pair with Queen Maeve would bring you both so many audience points. You didn't want to be around Maeve, but you learned with Starlight mistakes: you accept what Vought give to you. You just didn't imagine that a ambush would last so longer.

Hidden inside a car, all you had to distract yourself was your powers. You made your fingertips freeze against the window, forming little drawings. You form some flowers, then cleaned with your arm so you could drawn more.

"Can't you just focous?" grumbled Maeve. Being around her wasn't comfortable, but at least you both seem to agree that silence was the better option. But when Maeve have a mean coment to make, she will.

"Am I disturbing you?" Your fingers were frozing, and yet your eyes burned her skin. You took down the binoculars on your lap.

"Someone is sensitive today", Maeve rolled her eyes. She checked the license plate she was looking for, just to make sure. "I'm just saying you should pay attention. You need those audience points."

"I'm paying attention. You can't do two things at the same time?"

Maeve didn't answer you. She smiled, what was as difficult to understand as her eyes. "You really do hate me, huh? C'mon, princess, show me your claws."

"I don't hate you." You really were sincere about it. "I just don't respect you. You are a empty doll the markenting create. Eveything you are is a meaningless product. I definitely don't hate you."

"That was supossed to hurt me?" Thats it. Now you get. The problem was on Maeve's eyes. Don't matter how sincere or careful the rest of her face look, those blue eyes always seem to be making fun of whoever she is looking at. They always seem to be mocking you. "You look at me like you hate me. Stop that. Or we won't be able to sell that we are good friends."

"Don't worry, I discovered that I am a great actress." You smiled back. You spend more time recording for Vought than fighting. Even that ambosh can't be considering saving someone. The car you both are using is from a sponsor. Your knew uniform will be anounced today during the recordings the hidden cameras are making. Your tights are almost completely visible. You aren't a hero anymore. "And I don't look at you with hate. It is fear."

"Fear?" Maeve's eyes seem to glow. "Of all people, I am the one that you are affraid of? I thought you were clever."

"I'm affraid of ending up like you."

For the rest of the night Maeve didn't opened her mouth again.

• It seem to be the year Maeve would have to deal with hopeful freshers. Starlight was already a problem, but now she have a partner in crime. Great. All she need was you to show how higher and nicer you were compared to her. She hated you. Maeve hated how you make all her flaws more apparent. At least you are more subtle about your goodness than Starlight.

• At the beginning she thought you were manipulative. Maeve notice how you pretend to still be living the dream, unknowing to the their flaws. That won Homelander's compassion. He treat you like an apprentice. Like someone he can shape. Maeve thought you were using his necessity of praises and doe eyes against him, but she don't think that way anymore.

It happenned when Homelander killed in front of you for the first time. You couldn't help but to stare at all those bodies. All that blood. It was... you never saw anything like that. Not even in movies. You couldn't have imagine that someone could have so much blood.

"Dont look at me that way", Homelander held you by your arms. He wasn't agressively, but he stained you with blood. While your face was apathetic, frozen because of the grotesque, your eyes were enough to show what you were feeling. "Stop that. I told you to stop."

"He was", your mouth remained open, but no words came out of it. Homelander hold you tighter, your eyes flew away from the body and landed into his ocean blue eyes. So blue. So unnatural. "Unarmed."

"Oh." He smiled. Starlight's smile is so bright, Maeve is satirical, but his... His smile was sterelized. It was like something trying to look human. Trying to hard to look human. "Princess, my sweet princess, what do you think would happenned if he let him go away? He would tell everyone how he were unable to protect those stupid people. We don't want that, do we?"

"But we..."

"But?" Homelander asked. His smile was gone. "There is no 'but' here."

"She is in shock." Starlight were shaking, and yet was more capable than you. "Not everyone is used to killing people."

He didn't move. You could see something conquering his face. It was a cold rage, agressive yet silent. You knew he didn't trust Starlight. He was always looking for a reason to make her life harder. And she was trying to protect you, even tho she could be putting herself in danger. "So we did the right thing?" Your voice was nothing but a weak whisper. You hold his hands, stroking the bloody glove. You learned to read him. He is just fine with being hated, but he would prefer to be loved. "Didn't we?"

The change was instantaneous. He was smiling again, but this time it seem more real. Homelander eyes glared at you with kindness. "Yes. Yes, we did." He look at the rest of the team. "Finally someone with a working brain here."

• Since then her opinion about you change. You were kind to choose to take Homelander's attention away from Starlight, while being clever enough to do it in a way that work, while also being strong to put yourself together after seeing a massacre. If you were manipulating him, you wouldn't be shaking with big tears sliding across your face. You were... something.

• After that she keep an eye on you.

• Maeve notice that you tend to agree to whatever Ashley and Madelyn say. No questions, no hesitation, just obedience. It wasn't fear. It was just caution. Beside Starlight, you found a way to have a good relationship with every member of The Seven. For Homelander you were a smart girl that need to be guided. With A-Train you were more snarky, but respectful. Not friends, but not a threat. Maeve is not so sure, but she thinks that you and Noir are friends. One time you entered the elevator with a coloring book on your hands, and a few days later Maeve saw Noir drawing on it during the lunch. She also saw him buying chocolate with nuts, something that you tend to eat during meetings.

• It was a smart move. To be close to everyone. You aren't dumb, you know that the best your relationship with the team is the safer you are. She understand your true friendship with Starlight, your pretend facet to Homelander, your respect toward Madelyn. She don't understand your friendship with Noir, thats for sure. She seem to be the only person you absolutely hate. And it kinda sucks.

• Specially when it is just you two. People really enjoy when you both work together, and Vought give them what they want. And it actually really works. Maeve is the sword, you are the shield. Her experience and your energy go well together. So is commom for Maeve to be around you. To be stuck in a ambush. Or to be together all the way since the Vought's parking lot til the hallway were your rooms are. It sucks to be around you because she can feel your hate. No. Not hate. Your fear of becoming her.

Money flew because of the wind. The rain washed the blood from your skin. Your hands hold the gun pointed to your head. The thief pulled the trigger, but the layer of ice you created stopped the bullet. The pressure has you knocked to your knees.

Maeve had just finished a man when she heard the shot. Without thinking twice, she punched him in the face. It was enough for him to faint. "You fine?" She crused the gun with her feet, making it impossible to use again."

"Yeah." Your fingers were bruised. With the back of your hands you brush the hair away from your face. Some of the blood on your skin was yours, but you never get really hurt. "Kinda."

Maeve reached out to you. You hesitated, but accepted the help. She put you on your feets and scanned your body, searching for any wounds. You felt shy under her gaze. "What happenned to your knees?"

"I felt yesterday." The knees are so important during a fight, but you will soon get used to the pain and it won't disturb you anymore. You stir your head, uncomfortable because the rain keep putting your hair in front of your eyes. "I'm fine."

Maeve bit her own tongue. "Come here." When you didn't move she sighed. "Just come here." You did as she asked. Right in front of Maeve, a thunder echoed. She walked around you, stopping behind you.

You shuddered when you felt her fingers on your hair. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you." She gattered your hair, using her fingers as a comb. So she tied up your hair on a ponytail. Maeve rested her hands on your shoulders, your skin was so cold. You were always so cold.

"Thank you, Maeve." You whispered, unable to move. Her hands were so warm. It was great to feel them on your skin.

"Is just Maggie." You turned to face her. She was so closed. Her armour touched your body, her metal colliding with your woof. "You can call me Maggie."

"Maggie", you tried the word. "Its a beautiful name."

You never disagreed with whatever Madelyn Stillwell said to you, but there are a first time for everything. "A fake relashionship?".

"Just for the cameras. Your audience points will... "

"Are you kidding me?" You interrupted Madelyn. "Is that a fucking joke?"

"So you can swear", Maggie laughed. "I didn't knew you were capable of that."

"This is crazy." You ignored her. "I won't do that. I've already sold enough of my body. I put on this stupidly short outfit, run with those uncomfortable heals, take all those pictures. I was on your movies. And I never said no to anything you wanted me to do. I won't sell the last bit of dignity that remains here."

And for that your obedience was useful. If you were like A-Train or Starlight, Madelyn would've said the most hurtful things without thinking twice. But you did everything right since the beginning, so that means she could use some of her patience with you. "Vought is not asking you to be naked. Your body will be just fine."

"Don't fucking lie to me." Maggie never saw you so mad. "I don't want that."

"What do you think will happen when some vulture discover your sexuality?"

"What the hell?" said Maggie. "Are you blackmailing me?"

"I wasn't talking to you, Maeve." Stillwell glared at you. "We spend a lot of money to pay those that come after us with photos of you. One day they will come to the journals instead. Then what will happen? The conservatives that once loved you... Your appeal with men gonna fall so bad. Depending of the photos even who isn't homophobe will call you a slut."

You cheeks were burning. Now you were almost punching her face. Maeve notice how you clenched your fists.

"But this is the perfect moment to put you both out of the closet." All you family and friends knew about your sexuality, but it didn't matter for the rest of world. "Your couple even have a hashtag. 'Royalty.' Oh, I only wish I have tought of that name. It fits your narrative so well."

"Stop that." Maggie grabbed your hand and made you stand up. "Don't embarrassed her. We gonna do it."

Madelyn smile was so bright. So fake. "Perfect. I knew you would help me."

She pulled you out of the room, but your shaky legs didn't let you move any longer. Your hands were freezing. Your whole body seen to be almost turning into ice. Your rage was so... you couldn't even hear your own thoughts.

Maggie opened the bathroom door, you don't even remember entering there. "Hey", Maggie tried to calm you. "You will be just fine."

"I hate that place", your voice was embargoed. You failed to stop a hiccup. "I hate everything here. I am not a person anymore. I am a thing. Not even my body is mine. When I die all that will remain will be pretty lies."

"It will be just fine. I promissed." Maggie lied, but that was what you need to hear. Just another pretty lie. "Everything will be just fine."

• It wasn't the most horrible thing. It wasn't comfortable, but at least it wasn't horrible. You both had to spend way more time together. It started with public signs of affection. She would help you with your hair, the public tend to love it, and you would clean Maggie's face after a fight. You go to events together, always found a time to bring eachothers name to any interview, hold hands while walking.

• It was all to foment a online discussion. It need to seem natural. People should be talking about how it was abviously that you're dating Maggie before the public announcement. Your instagram was filled with photos that showed someone with red hair behind you. Even the couch you took those pictures was a marketing decision.

• Maggie was... not what you imagined she would be like. She was sweet. Sarcastic and annoying and punchable, but sweet. Thats been a time since when you started to think different about her. You realized that maybe your reaction to her was because you felt like looking at a mirror. Starlight was everything you wish you could be, but Maeve was all you think you are. No, not Maeve, just Maggie. But being around her, having to actually interact with her, changed your mind.

• Maggie look carefree, but its just a appearance. She told you what was real about her history. Helped with your fear of what would happen to you in the future. Maggie told you that it gets easier. And she funny to. In a cinnical way, but she is. Its nice being around her.

• And you were glad you were doing this with her. She had done that before, the fake relashionship, so she helped you. You both have limits, places you don't want to be touched and things you don't want to be said to others. Its still embarrasing to feel her arms around you, her fingers caressing your hair, her lips kissing your forehead. It is weird because, sometimes, it don't feel like and act. But that was you being dumb. All that pretending thing just messed with your head. Sure that was the reason.

• Sometimes Maggie felt guilt. When you sit beside her on a interview and she hold your thigh. Or when you are walking somewhere and her hands are touching the bottom of your back. Or when she hug you after a mission. When her fingers caress your face. When the fake smile you put to the cameras make her heart skip a beat. Or when she sees you with someone else, someone from your personal life, and find herself in a spiral about who that person could be. Or when you ask her if your makeup is too dark. When she fight with you and suddenly start to think about how strong and powerful you are. When she heard a Taylor Swift's song on the radio and remind of you. When you make jokes about how Ashley never stop walking. When she says goodnight to you before entering her room.

• Maggie felt... everything. You make her feel everything. And you don't even seem to notice. If you only knew all the things she keep to herself so she can tell them to you. All the dirtiest jokes she only say to you because you will laugh. Do you notice that she always save you a seat? Or that she started to act nice around Starlight?

• Maggie isn't pretending and this is killing her.

You entered the bar thinking that you would have some time alone. You were wrong. "Guess we had the same idea."

Maggie was on her second Martini. "Rough day?"

"The worst." You go to the collection of bottles and got the best wine you could find. You didn't even use a glass, you drink it from the bottleneck. Maggie licked her bottom lip. You were right in front of her, on the other side of the balcony. "A-Train decided it was a great idea to irritate Homelander. Ashley screamed with me because I cut me hair without asking first. And yours?"

She brused her red hair from her face. She wasn't drunk, but her body was already warm. "Just boring." She analized your hair, noticing the change. Maggie reached out to touch it, brushing the back of her hand on your face. "You look gorgeous."

Your belly turned warm with her words. "Thank you."

Maggie released the lock. "You are welcome, princess." You took a big sip from the bottle. "Easy tiger. This is not your last day alive. You can drink more tomorrow."

"You don't know that", you arched your eyebrows. "It could be."

"And you would like to spend your last bit of time drinking?"

"Maybe." Her laugh made you smile. "I would die happy at least. And I would be drinking with you. If you were A-Train I would kill myself just to not look at him again."

"What a boring way to spend it."

"I don't have any regrets", you told her. "I think I deserve to spend my last day drinking and dancing."

"You don't have any regrets?" Maggie sound so grave. She drink the rest of her Martini without looking away. "Not even a single one?"

You hesitated. You could've just walked away. Go to your room and drink the rest of the bottle. Called someone to make you company. Sleep. You could've done no many other things. But you pulled Maggie into a kiss.

Your tongue danced with her, the bitter of her Martini blending in with your sweet wine. She hold your face, her fingers stroking your skin. It was calm, and intimate, and yearning. It was like finally find an oasis in the middle of the desert. It was meant to be.

"Not anymore." You whispered against her lips.

You could felt her smile.

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[creepypasta-archive]

Jeff the Killer: Recall

by Mikeyboi1225

Some story i found. Sorry i'm not adding my detailed descriptions as usual i've been running on fumes lately CW// Murder i guess. too long to read rn Click here for the unedited original story

Summary

After a nearly fatal car accident in the dark of night, a mysterious boy wakes up in a hospital with no memory of who he was before. His amnesia isn't the strangest about him: his face is scarred beyond recognition, wounds that didn't come from the accident. Taken in by the driver who hit him, the amnesiac settles into a daily routine. But when his memories begin to slowly return, a darkness begins to stir.

This story was inspired by two songs, one which tells the story of a monster who didn't know how to be anything else, and another where the singer looks upon his past misdeeds and seeks redemption for them. If you aren't fond of redemption stories, I recommend looking for an X Reader. There are plenty to be found. My goal in writing this tale is to take the Creepypasta characters I grew up with and tell a new story all my own. If that's the kind of thing you go for, then you've come to the right place.

If you enjoy the story, be sure to give it a kudo, and let me know what you think in the comments!

Chapter 1: The Accident

Walter Jefferson was tired.

He'd had a long, hard day at work. It was December 11th, and the Oakwood County Post Office was a busy place in the weeks leading up to Christmas. He'd gotten off at 10:30, and he was almost home. As he made the turnoff onto the road that led to his house, his cellphone rang. Glancing at the screen, he saw that his wife Margaret was calling.

"Oh, I'm in for it now," he chuckled to himself. Walter answered the call, putting Margaret on speaker.

"Hi, Maggie," he answered cheerfully.

"Hey, Walter," replied Margaret. Unlike his, her voice was wide awake. "It's almost eleven at night. You haven't been abducted by aliens, have you?"

"As a matter of fact, I have, honey," he replied. "They've got big teeth and antennas, and they're pulling out all kinds of terrible devices. I think they're gonna probe me."

"Right," answered Margaret with a chuckle. "Can you tell them that if my husband isn't home in fifteen minutes, I'll have to blast their flying saucer out of the sky?"

Walter laughed with amusement.

"I'll pass on the message, honey. See you in a bit. I love you."

"I love you too, Walter," Margaret replied with a dramatic smooching noise. "Drive safely."

"I will," answered Walter, and hung up the phone.

"Always so worried about- OH MY GOD!"

Walter slammed his foot down on the breaks with all his weight. Someone was crossing the road. The pedestrian had appeared out of nowhere. Walter swerved to avoid him, but it was too late. The vehicle slammed into the figure like a rhinoceros, sending the body rag-dolling over the top of the car. Walter could hear it thumping as it rolled over the roof.

"Dear Lord," choked Walter as he tore off his seatbelt and scrambled out of the car.

He ran to the lifeless body in the road and rolled it face-up. It was a young man, around sixteen years old. He had on a white hoodie and black dress pants. The clothes were bloodied and battered, and blood oozed from the boy's skull.

Walter's stomach churned. He knelt and checked for a pulse. The boy was still alive! Walter ran to his car and grabbed his phone, frantically dialing 911. The voice on the other end responded quickly.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"My name is Walter Jefferson, and I am at the intersection of Shaw and West! I just hit a guy with my car. He's alive, but he needs an ambulance!"

"Sir, please remain calm and stay on the line. Help is on the way."

"Thank you," answered Walter gratefully.

The young man's eyes fluttered open. He focused on Walter.

"Wha- what happened?" he asked weakly, his voice scarcely a whisper. "Where am I?"

"Oh, God," croaked Walter. "He's awake."

Walter dropped to his knees, taking the boy by the hand.

"I am so sorry," whispered Walter. "You're going to be alright, I promise. Help is on the way."

The young man's eyes lost focus, and he drifted out of consciousness.

Chapter 2: The Ambulance

"Look at me, buddy," said the paramedic as he gave the boy a shot of morphine. "Keep looking at my eyes, okay?"

The young man's eyes kept fluttering. He opened them and focused on the paramedic.

"Who- who are you?" he pleaded, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"My name is Mark. I'm a paramedic, and we're taking you to a hospital. I gave you some morphine to help with the pain. How are you feeling, buddy?"

The patient' s eyes closed.

"Woah, buddy," called Mark, gently slapping the patient's cheek. "Don't do that to me, alright? Just keep looking at my eyes.

"O-okay," slurred the patient.

"Good," replied Mark, smiling. "What's your name?"

The kid looked puzzled.

"I don't- I don't remember," he answered. His brow was furrowed deeply. Suddenly, his eyes grew wider than they already were.

"I can't remember my name! I can't remember anything! Why can't I remember anything?"

The patient tried to sit up, and then cried out in pain. Mark lowered him back onto the stretcher.

"You don't want to do that, buddy," Mark cautioned. "You've got some broken ribs. Just be still and stay calm. Jeffrey, hand me those sedatives. We need to calm him down."

The boy gasped twice, once from pain and once from realization.

"What is it, buddy?" asked Mark as he prepared the sedative shot. "What's the matter?"

"Jeffrey. . . my name. . . I remember. My name is Jeff."

He tried to sit up again, but Mark stopped him.

"Nice to meet you, Jeff. Can you lie still for me, Jeff?"

Jeff nodded his head obediently as Mark injected him in the shoulder with anesthesia.

"Everything's going to be okay, Jeff," said Mark with a soothing tone. "You just go to sleep."

"Uhhnn. . ." Jeff tried to speak, but before he could form the words, he had drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 3: Room 114

"So, he just ran into the street?" the officer asked as he wrote Walter's account of the event down in a notepad.

"Yes," answered Walter, rubbing his hands together nervously. He sat in the waiting room of the Oakwood County Medical Center, telling his story to a policeman. "I didn't even see him until he was twenty feet away. I tried to brake, but it. . ."

Walter shook his head. The situation seemed surreal. Had he actually just struck a teenage boy with his car? It didn't seem possible.

The officer put a consoling hand on Walter' shoulder.

"You did a good job calling 911. Too many folks would have just panicked."

"Walter!"

Walter looked up to see Margaret running to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. He stood up from his seat and embraced her.

"Is everything okay? Are you hurt? What happened? I was so scared, Walter!"

The officer stood, pocketing his notepad.

"I have everything I need for now, Mr. Jefferson. The department will contact you if we need anything else."

The officer turned to go, giving the couple a moment alone. Margaret buried her face in Walter's shoulder, wetting it with her tears. Walter struggled to find the words. He took a deep breath.

"Right after I hung up," he began, letting the momentum of his thoughts carry him along, "a kid - a teenager, I think - ran out in front of me."

"Oh, God," whispered Margaret.

Walter pressed his forehead against her shoulder, holding himself together despite the attempts of every one of his atoms to break down.

"I hit him, Maggie," he whispered into her ear. "I. . . I hit that kid. I don't even know if he's alive or not."

Margaret tightened her grasp on Walter, running a hand up and down his back to comfort him.

"It was an accident, Walter. He'll be okay. I'm certain of it."

Walter sobbed once into her shoulder, and clenched his teeth to keep himself composed.

"There was so much blood on him, Maggie. I-I've never seen so much. His clothes were soaked."

"Shhhhh," whispered Maggie, cradling the back of Walter' s head in her arms.

Just then, a nurse walked over to the waiting area.

"Walter Jefferson?" she asked, reading off her clipboard.

Walter pulled reluctantly away from Maggie, drying his eyes with his shirt collar.

"Yes, that's me," he replied.

"The boy is out of surgery. The doctor would like to see you. Please, follow me."

The nurse turned and walked into the hallway. Walter started after her, but stopped as he felt Maggie's hand on his shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, Walter," she said reassuringly.

"Thanks, Maggie," he gratefully replied with one last look at his wife before following the nurse.

The nurse led Walter down a maze of hallways and doors. At length, she stopped in front of a door, Room 114. The metal "4" appeared to be falling off. Walter prayed that wasn't a bad omen.

"Wait here," ordered the nurse.

She walked off in the direction they had come, leaving Walter standing alone before the door of Room 114. He fidgeted nervously as he waited. Walter glanced into the room to see what he could see. He could just barely see the young man - his victim - lying in the hospital bed. His head was wrapped in gauze, but that wasn't what drew Walter' s attention.

Walter started into the room. He tried to stop himself, but he was in a trance. Step by step by step, he drew closer and closer to the sleeping patient. Soon, he was standing at the head of the hospital bed, looking down at the comatose teenager. The boy slept peacefully. His chest rose and fell with each breath. Walter stared down at the boy's face in horror.

My God, thought Walter. Did I do this to him?

The boy's face was horrifying. His eye sockets were scarred with gray patches, and his eyelids were mangled so that they appeared to be open. His cheeks were marred with deep gashes that curled upwards from his lips, twisting his face into a hideous, demonic grin.

At that moment, the boy's eyes focused on him.

"Walter Jefferson!"

Chapter 4: Good News, Bad News

"Walter Jefferson?" asked the doctor a second time.

Walter cradled hid chest in his hands. The boy's eyes darted off in another direction, then another. He was asleep. He hadn't looked at Walter at all.

"Yes," Walter replied, breathing heavily. "I'm Walter Jefferson."

"I'm sorry," the doctor apologized, looking at Walter with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Dr. Walton. I examined the patient as soon as they brought him in. There are a few things that you need to know."

Walter cleared his throat and nodded his head.

"Tell me."

"Fortunately," the doctor began, "there were no vital organs damaged in the accident. Now, he's got four broken ribs, a fractured clavicle, and a concussion, but he'll live."

Walter took a deep breath of hope and glanced over his shoulder at the boy.

"That's good. That's great!"

The doctor nodded.

"It is. Less so is my second piece of news."

"Go on," prodded Walter.

"The concussion seems to have caused some damage. According to the paramedics who brought him in and what little I could get him to say, the patient is amnesiac."

The color drained from Walter's face until he was paler than the boy.

"You mean he. . . oh God. . ."

The doctor nodded again.

"Unfortunately, he seems to have forgotten nearly everything about himself. He has no idea who he is or where he's from. We don't even know if he has any family we need to call," explained Dr. Walton. "The only thing we could get out of him was his name."

"What is it?"

"Jeff."

"Just Jeff?"

"He only remembers his first name."

Walter collapsed into a chair next to the hospital bed and put his head in his hands.

"So I took his face and his memories," Walter sobbed.

Dr. Walton cocked an eyebrow.

"What do you mean 'took his face'?"

"The wounds on his face," said Walter. "You can' t exactly miss them."

Dr. Walton cleared his throat.

"Those wounds aren't fresh. They're scars, and they certainly didn't come from the accident."

Walter looked up.

"What?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Those scars are old. He's had them for at least a few years," replied Dr. Walton.

Walter looked back at the face of the sleeping patient.

"Then where did they come from?"

Dr. Walton shrugged dramatically.

"That, along with everything else about him, is something we'd all like to know."

Chapter 5: Waking Up

His mind was blank, totally bereft of the thoughts and details that made up a person. He found himself swimming through a sea of emptiness. The dark, icy waves grasped and tossed, and he fought to keep his head above water.

Up ahead, he saw something floating, like an inner tube. He swam towards it, praying that he wouldn't sink. Three feet from the tube he lunged, but missed. The tube was thrown a little further away by the churning waves. He lunged again. This time, he caught the edge of it.

He clung to the tube for dear life, pressing his face into the side of it. As he did, he noticed a word painted on the side. It was written in rough, scratchy letters that dripped red down the side: Jeff.

His name. The only memory he had left, and the only thing keeping him above the churning sea of despair. He looked down through the hole in the tube's center. He froze.

A hideous face grinned back at him from the water. Its features were twisted into a lopsided, nightmarish smile that went beyond frightening. Its eyes were wider than seemed possible, and edged with dark circles that added a manic hunger to them.

The fiendish face spoke.

"You can't escape me," it said. "I'll find you again. Now, go to sleep- er, I mean, wake up."

Jeff blinked.

"WAKE UP!"

Jeff bolted upright in his hospital bed, breathing heavily and covered in cold sweat. The window was open, letting the sunlight in. His head felt like a blacksmith had been using it for an anvil. He tried to look down at himself, but his head wouldn't move. His neck was in a brace, and his collarbone burned when he tried to move his head.

Must be broken, thought Jeff.

He moved his hand along his chest. There were thick bandages.

Ribs broken as well.

Just then, a nurse came into the room, rolling an IV drip along with her. When she saw Jeff was awake, she smiled warmly and waved.

"Good morning, Jeff," she said with pleasant sweetness. "I'm Nurse Elayna, and I'll be taking care of you."

Jeff found himself looking at Elayna for a long time. She had a headful of curly red hair and deep blue eyes. She was very pretty. Finally, he forced himself to speak.

"Hi, Elayna," he said. "Where am I?"

"You're in the Oakwood County Medical Center. Do you remember what happened?" she asked.

Jeff sighed.

"I don't remember much. My name. I remember bits and pieces of the accident. The headlights. The pain. And the angel."

Nurse Elayna looked puzzled.

"Angel?"

"He was there," assured Jeff. "He was standing behind the driver who hit me when he called 911. He was so tall. He said. . . he said. . ."

Elayna stood by the IV drip expectantly.

"What did the angel say?" she asked encouragingly.

Jeff shrugged, which led to a sigh of pain.

"I don't remember."

Nurse Elayna nodded compassionately.

"That's understandable. You have a concussion. It also seems that, as a result, you have amnesia. You've lost your memory. Well, most if it."

Nurse Elayna exchanged his IV bag and then turned to face him.

"Can I get you anything, Jeff?"

Jeff looked back at Elayna.

"There is one thing," said Jeff quietly. "Could you bring me a mirror?"

Nurse Elayna pursed her lips and looked away.

"The doctor will be in soon," she answered. "He will be able to take care of that for you."

Before Jeff could respond, Nurse Elayna hurried out of the room.

Chapter 6: Breakfast at the Jeffersons'

Margaret was having trouble getting Walter to go back to bed. It was Saturday, the day after the accident, and his Christmas vacation had begun. And he was absolutely miserable.

They had gotten home from the hospital at 3:30 AM, and they had gone straight to bed. Or, at least, Margaret had. Walter had turned on the television and plopped down on the couch. He stared blankly into space, ignoring the TV. At five in the morning, he had finally come to bed. He had slept until seven. He simply couldn't get the boy - Jeff - off his mind.

"He doesn't remember anything," Walter had told her. "He knows nothing about himself. That's on me."

"No, it isn't," Margaret had told him. "You can't blame yourself for an accident. Anyone could have hit that boy. It just happened to be you."

Now, he sat at the kitchen table, staring at the clock. Margaret walked over and sat down next to him.

"Would you like something to eat?" she asked.

Walter shook his head.

"How about some coffee?"

Same response.

"Visiting hours start at eleven," said Walter. "I'd like visit him sometime this week."

He fixed her with a pleading look.

"Will you come with me? I want to talk to him. To Jeff."

"Of course I will," she said, taking his hands in her own. "I am just as worried about that boy as you are. I just want you to stop beating yourself up. Skipping breakfast and depriving yourself of sleep aren't going to help him. You know that, right?"

Walter turned his head to look into her eyes. His own, she saw, were filled with tears. He took a deep breath.

"I know, Maggie," he said. "I'm. . . scared, is all."

"I know you are," she told him, leaning in and kissing his cheek. "I am too. But it's going to work itself out. I know it is."

Walter wiped his eyes and kissed her back.

"What would I do without you?"

"Fall on your face," she answered. "Now sit tight. I'll make you some scrambled eggs and coffee. You're going to eat, understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Walter as Margaret stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Chapter 7: Reflections

Dr. Walton stood outside Room 114, looking in at his patient. The boy called Jeff was awake, staring straight up the ceiling. Not that he much choice, considering the condition of his eyelids.

Poor kid, mused Dr. Walton. Who are you? And what the hell happened to your face?

Dr. Walton pushed the door open the rest of the way and entered.

"Hello, Jeff. I'm here with your eye drops," announced the doctor. He approached Jeff's head and looked down at him with a wide, friendly grin. "How are you feeling?"

Jeff looked up at him and grinned weakly. It was strange, since the gashes in his cheeks made Jeff appear to be grinning already.

"How would you feel if you got pancaked by a station wagon, Doc? Because that's about how I feel."

Dr. Walton laughed encouragingly.

"Given the circumstances, that makes sense." Dr. Walton held up the bottle of eye drops. "How about we take care of those dry eyes, big guy?"

Jeff widened his eyes for Dr. Walton as the latter squeezed a drop of moisturizing fluid onto each eyeball. Jeff's eyelids squeezed together as best they could.

"Isn't it Elayna's job to give me the eye drops?"

"Well, yes," said the doctor. "But I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd check up on you myself."

Dr. Walton pulled a chair over to the head of the bed and took a seat.

"Jeff, what can you recall from the other night? Do you remember anything from before the accident?"

Jeff sighed.

"No. Nothing. I was. . . I was crossing the road. I remember that. I don't remember why, though. Then, I was on the ground. The driver was calling for help. And, I saw the angel."

Dr. Walton nodded his head.

"Elayna told me about that. This angel, what did he look like?"

"It's pretty fuzzy," admitted Jeff. "He was very tall, at least seven feet. He had these huge billowing wings, and glowing eyes that pierced the darkness."

Jeff paused and frowned at the doctor.

"It was a hallucination, wasn't it?"

"That's possible," answered the doctor. "You did hit your head pretty hard. But I've never been one to rule out the metaphysical."

Dr. Walton gestured to Jeff's bandages.

"After all, you survived a head-on collision at forty miles-per-hour. If that isn't divine intervention, I'll turn in my doctorate."

"Maybe," said Jeff absently. His eyes stung, and he moved his eyes around beneath what remained of his eyelids to wet them. "Hey, Doc?"

"Yes, Jeff?"

"There's something I need you to do for me," Jeff told him, "and I won't take no for an answer.

Dr. Walton cocked his head to the side.

"What would that be?"

"I want you to tell me what's wrong with my face."

Dr. Walton frowned.

"What makes you think something's wrong with your face?"

"Drop the act," said Jeff. "I know something isn't right. Elayna wouldn't give me a mirror earlier. Plus, I've been feeling it all morning. It feels wrong. It feels like leather, not skin."

Jeff pointed to his eyes.

"And judging by the lack of any scabbing, I'm assuming that this isn't road rash across my eyes."

Dr. Dalton folded his hands.

"Jeff," he replied frankly, "Legally, I can't tell you no. However, I can warn you. Your current state is fragile. If you get too worked up, you might hurt yourself."

Jeff frowned. Tears began to well up in his eyes.

"That bad, huh?"

"No, Jeff, that's not. . ." Dr. Walton's voice trailed off. He bit his lip.

"Look, Doc," began Jeff. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "I'm scared. I woke up in a strange place. I don't even know who I am. And I certainly don't remember what I look like."

Jeff sniffed. A tear ran down his cheek. He dabbed at it. His fingers ran down along the ridge of the scar there, until they reached his lips. Jeff returned his gaze to the eyes of Dr. Walton.

"I want to know what this ridge I feel beneath my finger is. I want to see why my eyes don't close. I want something. . . a face to put with my own name. Can you understand that?"

Dr. Walton was speechless. Before him on the hospital bed lay his patient, a boy with nothing. He was so vulnerable, and there was only one thing in the world he wanted. But, Dr. Walton was afraid to give it to him.

Who was he to stand in Jeff's way, though? It was his duty to abide by his patients' wishes. With a reluctant sigh, he relinquished his humanity.

"Alright, Jeff," said Dr. Walton. "If that is what you want."

Dr. Walton stepped into the bathroom for a moment. When he returned, he held a plastic hand-mirror. Jeff watched him approach. It was a slow, dutiful march, like an executioner walking to the scaffold. Jeff didn't know whether to feel nervous or excited. He determined that his beating heart was a result of both.

"Here you go," whispered the doctor as he handed Jeff the mirror.

Jeff accepted the mirror from Dr. Walton and held it up before his face.

Jeff gasped at what he saw looking back at him. He had no eyebrows. His eyelids were a tattered, blackened mess that made his eyes appear wide and hungry. The rest of the flesh was white as milk, and as rough as crocodile leather. His cheeks were marred by three-inch gashes that curled up across his face like the tendrils of an evil kraken hiding beneath the surface. The wretched, ruined face seemed to grin malevolently at him from the glass.

"Oh, God," whispered Jeff. ". . . oh God."

His fingertips traveled the length of a scar, then up the bridge of his nose to his forehead. His fingers splayed across his features, and he lowered the mirror.

"Dear God. . ."

Dr. Walton rested his hand on Jeff's shoulder.

"I'll give you a moment alone."

Jeff barely heard his words. They sounded distant, like he had spoken underwater. This had been what Jeff was afraid he would see. The face he had seen in the mirror was the same face that had stared up at through the inner tube, the one from the sea of darkness. The demonic face from his dream had been his own.

Chapter 8: The Waiting Room

"Walter Jefferson, here to visit Jeff. Room 114."

Walter stood with his hands at his sides. The nurse looked up Jeff in the computer.

"Give me just one moment please," said the nurse as she stood and went into the back.

Walter waited awkwardly, drumming his fingers against the countertop. Soon, the nurse was back.

"He's being cleaned up right now," she told him, "but he should be ready in a few minutes. Just have a seat, and someone will come and take you in."

"Thank you," said Walter.

Walter turned away and walked back to the waiting area. He plopped down in a chair next to Margaret and picked up a magazine, which he perused absently.

What will he be like? Will he hate me? Will he blame me for what happened to him?

Walter didn't know what to expect. All he could do was wait and hope for the best.

Just then, a horrible thought occurred to him.

"Maggie?"

"Yes, Walter?" asked Margaret.

"What's going to happen to Jeff?"

Margaret looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What if he has a family? He doesn't remember anything. He won't be able to contact anyone. He'll be all alone."

"Don't worry," urged Margaret, putting a hand on his shoulder. "His family is probably looking for him right now. They'll come for him."

Walter didn't look satisfied.

"But what if he has no family? What if he was already alone? He's at least sixteen or seventeen. What if they just ship him to a foster home until he's eighteen?"

"Walter," whispered Margaret soothingly, "everything is going to be okay."

Walter took a breath.

"I hope you're right."

Just then, a nurse walked over and stood in front of them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson?" she asked.

"That's us," said Walter, standing to his feet.

"Jeff is ready to see you."

Chapter 9: A Chance Meeting

Mark headed into the break room for lunch. He took his sandwich and root beer from the refrigerator and turned to go. As he did so, he nearly collided with a nurse who was coming behind him.

"Sorry!" squeaked Mark, bending over to pick up the paper bag he had knocked out of her hands.

As he handed her the bag, their eyes met. Hers were a gorgeous, vibrant shade of blue. Her locks of bright red hair were just as distracting.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the bag from him.

Mark couldn't tear his eyes off the girl. She cocked her head to the side and grinned.

"Are you in there?" she asked.

"Yes," said Mark, snapping back to reality and clearing his throat. "Sorry. You have. . . very pretty eyes."

The nurse laughed.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," Mark replied. "Hey, wait a moment. Aren't you Elayna Johnson? Jeff's nurse?"

"Yes, I am," she answered. "How did you know?"

Mark's face darkened considerably

"Jeff's the talk of the hospital," answered Mark distastefully. "The amnesiac with the mysterious scars, and all that."

Elayna looked shocked.

"They aren't making fun of him, are they?"

"Not that I know," said Mark. "But I'm no lover of gossip either way. He's just a kid."

Elayna fixed Mark with a curious look.

"You talk as if you know him," she noted.

"I don't, exactly," replied Mark, scratching at his short brown hair. "I was with the team that brought him in, though."

He shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess I feel responsible for him, or something. You should have seen him. Helpless, afraid. You'd probably feel the same way."

Elayna nodded her head.

"I know what you mean. I've been taking care of him all week."

"Oh, yeah?" asked Mark. "How's he doing?"

Elayna frowned.

"Some days are good. Others, not so good. He's very quiet. I don't know if he's thinking, or if he just doesn't have anything to say."

Mark echoed her sad look.

"What does he do all day?"

"He mostly just stares at the ceiling," she said. "Sometimes he'll touch his face. Like he's trying to remember."

She looked at Mark.

"I think he's lonely."

Mark furrowed his brow.

"I might visit him," he said. "I'd like to see if I can't cheer him up."

Elayna smiled from ear to ear.

"I bet he would like that."

Chapter 10: Face to Face

He couldn't get it out of his mind. The image of his face haunted him like a vengeful phantom. His pale and leathery skin, bloodred lips, lidless eyes, and vicious smile stared back at him everywhere he looked.

He was a monster.

No, you're no monster. You're beautiful. Now turn that frown upside-down, dummy!

"Huh?" asked Jeff out loud. He looked around the room for the speaker. No one was there.

Did I imagine that? wondered Jeff. I gotta get out of this hospital bed.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. A nurse poked her inside the room.

"Jeff," she said sweetly, "you have visitors."

Jeff creased his forehead.

"Who?"

The nurse swung the door open and walked inside. Behind her, a man and a woman entered hand-in-hand. The man was in his late thirties with short hair and a clean-shaven face. The woman had long, flowing brown hair and a pleasant, but nervous, smile.

"Jeff," said the nurse, "this is Walter and Margaret Jefferson."

"It's you," said Jeff. "You're the one who hit me."

Walter froze. Margaret squeezed his hand encouragingly. He took a few steps forward. Jeff watched his steady approach unflinchingly.

"Come closer," said Jeff.

Walter knelt by Jeff's bedside, placing his hands on the edge.

"Son," he began, voice cracking, "I. . . I'm sorry. I didn't. . ."

Walter wiped his eyes.

". . . I didn't mean for this to happen. If I could go back, I-"

"Stop."

Walter cut off immediately. He didn't move a muscle. Jeff had spoken so suddenly, Walter's thoughts were scrambled.

Jeff took a deep breath, and grabbed Walter by the wrist.

"Mr. Jefferson," he began, "look at me. What do you see?"

Walter looked at Jeff, unsure of what to say.

"I see a teenage boy," he offered in reply.

Jeff nodded his head.

"And what more than that?"

Walter looked over his shoulder at Margaret. She had one hand over her mouth. Tears were welling up inside her eyes. He looked back to Jeff.

"I don't understand."

Jeff reached up with his free hand and ran a finger along his cheek.

"Yes, you do."

". . . scars," Walter managed.

"Bingo," said Jeff. "Ugly ones. And who knows how I got them? It must have been horrible."

Jeff pulled Walter a little closer.

"Could you live with yourself if you looked the way I do?"

Walter's heart was beating faster. Was Jeff angry with him? Where was he going with this?

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that it's entirely possible I wanted you to hit me," answered Jeff. "What if I stepped in front of you on purpose?"

Walter was speechless.

"It was no one's fault, Mr. Jefferson," continued Jeff.

He let go of Walter's wrist and took him by the hand.

"It just happened. No amount of blubbering on either of our parts is going to change that."

Tears ran down Walters face as Jeff spoke. Jeff hadn't just forgiven him. Jeff had told him that he had dine nothing wrong. Walter couldn't find words to describe how grateful he was. All that he could was squeeze Jeff's hand and cry his tears of joy.

Margaret approached the opposite side of Jeff's bed.

"Jeff, when they release you, how would you like to come and stay with Walter and me for a little while?"

Jeff's blinkless eyes widened.

"You. . . you want me to stay with you? Like. . . at your house?"

"Of course!" replied Walter joyfully. He looked up at his wife, and their eyes met. She winked at him. He smiled back.

"But. . . why?" asked Jeff. "I'm. . . nit exactly good company."

"Nonsense!" argued Margaret. "You're a sweet boy, and we would love to have you around. Besides, it's the least we can do until your real family comes for you."

"My real family. . ." repeated Jeff.

He had thought about them a lot over the past week. He didn't know who they were, or if they even existed. But he had wondered who they might be. He wondered if they were looking for him right now.

"What do you say?" asked Walter.

"I. . . I would love to," said Jeff.

Margaret leaned over and kissed Jeff on his gauze-wrapped forehead.

"We'll come to visit you every day until then," she said.

Jeff yawned, a huge yawn that nearly sit his head in two.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm. . . very tired all of a sudden. . ."

The nurse stepped forward.

"I think we should let him rest."

"Of course," said Walter, letting go of Jeff's hand. "Go to sleep, Jeff. We'll be back tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," mumbled Jeff as he began to drift off.

Margaret and Walter turned to follow the nurse out into the hall.

"Mrs. Jefferson?"

Margaret turned to look back into the room.

"Yes, Jeff?"

"Didn't the nurse say your name was Margaret?"

"Yes," she said. "Margaret Katherine Jefferson. Why do you ask?"

A headache nagged behind Jeff's eye, and he put his hand to his temple reflexively.

"I. . . I think I knew someone named Margaret. Someone close to me."

Chapter 11: Interesting Developments

"Erika Langford, twenty-two years old. Cut up in the middle of the night."

Agent Vince Brewer stood over the body of the victim, hands tucked away in the pockets of his suit coat. He regarded the crime scene with a somber expression. He had seen hundreds like it before, but it never got any easier. Still, not everyone had what it took to do his job.

He gestured to the sheets, which had been ripped from the bed, and an overturned lamp.

"There was a struggle," he noted. "She was awake when it happened."

"We guessed that, too," replied the officer in charge of the crime scene. "The killer came in, probably startled her awake, struggled with her, then shoved a knife in her gut. Slashed her face a little bit for good measure, too."

"It sounds to me like you guys have this under control," replied Agent Brewer with some annoyance. "Why contact the Bureau?"

"There's the kicker," replied the officer. "Right this way."

The officer led Agent Brewer across the room, careful to avoid disturbing the crime scene. Agent Brewer was just as careful. The officer stopped, gesturing to the window.

"This is how our killer got in."

The window was open, and the curtains were drawn. Bloody handprints lined the fabric. A few were plastered across the windowsill, revealing that the window had served as an exit as well as an entrance.

Agent Brewer's eyes were wide with surprise. He clenched his jaw and turned and stormed out of the room, taking long and deliberate strides. The officer hurried to keep up with him.

"There's more!" he called.

Agent Brewer ignored him and continued. He marched out through the front door, down the porch steps, and around the house. He didn't stop until he could see the window from the outside. The moment it came into view, something else did. It was difficult to see in the dying sunlight, but it was there.

Agent Brewer had taken down many a serial killer in his career with the FBI. One thing he had learned was that, to some of them, it was a game. They loved to play the game, and they loved to be recognized for playing. They lived for the coverage their dark craft received, for the names the media gave them. So, to facilitate this, some killers left behind a calling card. Agent Brewer had seen this particular calling card many times over the past three years.

The officer ran up alongside Agent Brewer and stopped to catch his breath. 

"Now you know why we got ahold of the Bureau."

Agent Brewer clenched his fists as he approached the side of the house. The walls were painted white. There was no missing the message scrawled beneath the window. It was written in bright red letters. The medium had dripped, leaving long run lines beneath each letter.

"What is that written in?" asked Agent Brewer, hoping against hope that he was wrong.

"What do you think?" retorted the officer.

The message was simple. There were three words and nine letters in all, and each letter was capitalized. 

GO TO SLEEP.

Agent Brewer closed his eyes. He felt like someone had punched him right between the eyes. 

"That's it, ain't it?" asked the officer. "That's the Grin's handiwork, right?"

Agent Brewer opened his mouth to respond when something moved out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look. It had been a momentary flicker of movement.

"Did you see that?" asked Agent Brewer.

"See what?" asked the officer. "All I see is some bloody graffiti and an open window."

Agent Brewer looked down at his feet. He noticed that his shadow had lengthened considerably as the sunk sank. His hat had almost reached the top of the house.

Agent Brewer wasn't wearing a hat.

"I need a moment alone," said Agent Brewer, turning to face the officer."

The officer furrowed his brow, but nodded. He didn't feel like arguing with a Fed today.

"Suit yourself, agent," muttered the officer as he turned to go. "See you back inside when you're ready."

"Thank you," said Agent Brewer, who returned his attention to his shadow once the officer was out of sight.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

His shadow seemed to lean forward from the wall. It shrank, contorted, and lost all shape, like a two-dimensional cloud of smoke on the wall. Soon, it was no taller than the agent, and it began to take human form once more: flowing trench coat, wide-brimmed fedora, and a walking cane held in the right hand. Two miniscule spheres of red light gazed out at Agent Brewer from where the figure's eyes should have been. It was a living shadow, standing there against the wall before him.

The shadow man replied with a deep, gravelly voice that seemed to echo from every surface, even the ones in Agent Brewer's mind.

"I came to check up on you," replied the shadow. "You are busy?"

"Am now," answered Brewer, waving his hand at the bloody message.

The shadow studied the message for a moment.

"Hmmm," it mused thoughtfully. "The Grin. A dangerous killer. Certainly not someone you want running around free."

"Don't give me that," scoffed Agent Brewer. "You probably know who he is already. You've just been holding out on me for three years."

"Perhaps, and perhaps not," whispered the shadow. "I keep many secrets."

"So why are you here?" asked Agent Brewer, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I come bearing a gift."

The shadow stepped forward, away from the wall, now taking up three dimensions. The shadow man held something out towards Brewer. It was something sealed in plastic. Brewer stepped forward to get a better look.

It was a blood-spattered kitchen knife.

"The murder weapon," explained the shadow, "used to kill Erika Langford."

Agent Brewer reached out, accepting the sealed knife from the shadow man. He held it up to the dying light, studying the blade. It was covered in scraped marks, beaten, battered, and bloodied.

"Where the hell did you find this?" he asked.

"One gift at a time," replied the shadow, holding up an ebony finger and wagging it back and forth. "It should suffice to say that something has happened on my side. There's been an interesting development. I'm curious to see how it will play out."

The shadow man turned his back to Agent Brewer. He began to melt back into the agent's shadow, silently and swiftly.

"What about the Grin?" called Agent Brewer.

The figure was gone, but one final reply came whispering from within the shadows.

"Look for him."

Chapter 12: Merry Christmas, Happy New Life

Notes:

Salutations, my lovely readers! This chapter is long overdue, but now that I have finished my education I think can get on a regular schedule.

You can expect updates on Jeff the Killer: Recall every Friday evening, the good Lord willing. As for my other works, I will be updating them as time allows. I have many original projects in the works, as well as a potentially big opportunity on the way.

Eyes up. The Mysterious Realm is unforgiving!

Margaret.

He tossed and turned in the bed, eyes darting back and forth beneath his mangled eyelids. His pale, slender fingers grasped at sweat-soaked sheets. His feet kicked at some unseen foe, something watching him from the darkness.

Jeff's dreams were getting worse.

Margaret.

In a realm beyond this one, Jeff sat on a cold floor, knees drawn against his chest. His lips trembled as he whispered the word over and over.

Margaret. Who was she?

He ran his fingers through his wild hair. They came back wet with sweat. Jeff clenched his fists, searching desperately for memories that weren't there. 

Who was Margaret?

"Who cares?"

Jeff jumped to his feet. The new voice was familiar, unpleasant, and it startled him.

"H-hello?"

"Hello."

Jeff spun around, throwing up his hands to protect himself. The voice had come from behind.

"Wh-who's there?" Jeff demanded.

From the darkness, a shape began to manifest. It was horrible, a beastly silhouette. Its crimson eyes glared hungrily at Jeff from the shadows.

"We are. No one else."

Jeff trembled. The creature's eyes demanded his attention; he couldn't look away, though he tried.

"Who are you?" Jeff croaked.

The silhouette seemed to slither through the darkness, eyes never blinking, never straying. It inched forward, little by little, until those horrible eyes were just in front of Jeff's.

"How could you forget me?" the shape asked. There was almost genuine hurt in its voice, as though it was sad that Jeff didn't recognize it.

Suddenly, Jeff found himself seized in an icy, crushing grasp. Frigid tendrils of shadow wrapped around his body, pinning his arms helplessly to his sides. He struggled, but it was moot. Wicked glee glinted in the crimson eyes of the beast as the shadows of its face began to swirl and pull aside. Within, a new face peered back. Jeff gasped.

"Beautiful, aren't I?" it asked.

Jeff squeezed his eyes shut. His mangled eyelids did nothing to conceal the horror that now held him in its clutches. He screamed, a scream that went beyond the dream.

Then, he was sitting upright in bed, chilled sweat dribbling down his sides and neck. His hands trembled at his sides. He raised them before his face, flexing his fingers to make the shaking stop.

He had been having the same dream for a while now. His mind went back to Christmas Day. The Jeffersons had been there. Mark and Elayna had been there, too. Even Dr. Walton had stopped by. All of them had gotten him gifts.

"Oh, geez. . ." Jeff had muttered, sinking lower onto the hospital bed. "I wish you hadn't."

"Nonsense," Margaret had said with a wave of her hand. "Now get to opening."

Walter and Margaret had gotten Jeff a long, insulated leather jacket that went down well past the knees.

"To keep you warm when you finally go outside," said Margaret.

"And look here," said Walter, pointing to the chest. "It comes with a reflector. Now you can cross the street at night."

Jeff was silent for a moment. 

"I love it," he said at last, running his hands over the leather. He enjoyed the way it felt. "Thank you both."

"My turn," said Elayna, presenting Jeff with a box wrapped in snowmen and reindeer. Inside was a portable CD-player, complete with headphones and a few CDs ready to go.

"I know how much you like music," she told him. "Now you can listen as often as you want."

Jeff looked through the CDs. They were all groups Elayna had introduced him to, that he loved to listen to: Linkin Park, Skillet, and more.

"Thank you so much," said Jeff, hugging Elayna around the neck.

"Anything for my little work brother," she replied with a giggle, hugging him back.

"You've still got one more," said Mark. He plopped a very small box down on the bed in Jeff's lap. The box was about the size of a TV remote. It was wrapped in simple red paper, with a little green bow holding it shut.

"What is it?" asked Jeff, turning it over in his hands.

"Only one way to find out," replied Mark, smirking and crossing his arms.

Carefully, Jeff slipped a finger under the edges of the tape, pulling it away little by little.

"Oh come on, we're not saving the paper," protested Mark. "Open it up!"

Jeff caved and ripped the paper away with a flick of his wrist. His mouth fell open. His voicebox cracked in two. Words tried to form on the tip of his tongue, but something powerful kept them at bay.

The present was a little box, bound in a faux leather material and hinged in the back. With trembling fingers, Jeff opened the box. Inside, his expectations were fulfilled tenfold. There rested a pair of sunglasses, with firm black plastic temples and thick dark lenses.

"I. . . I. . ."

"Look, I'm not saying you need them," stammered Mark, "just that, you know, with the sun, and with your eyes, and with the drops-"

Jeff's arms were around Mark before he could stammer out another syllable, his face buried deep in his friend's shirt.

". . . thank you," was all Jeff could croak through the raging torrent of feelings that swept over him. Mark put an arm around Jeff's shoulder in turn.

"You're welcome, little buddy."

Jeff pulled away from his friend's embrace, turning his eyes upon the room. Within the four light blue walls of the hospital room were the only five people in the world Jeff knew. They cared for him, and he for them. Warmth. Peace. Gratitude. Companionship Belonging. They all seemed to surge within him simultaneously.

No!

Jeff jolted, arcing his back and grabbing at his temple. 

"Wh-what?" he mumbled aloud.

"You okay, buddy?" asked Mark, reaching out. Jeff's vision swirled. He saw Mark's face, Mark's stupid face, giving him that coddling look. Why, he ought to reach out and grab Mark by his skinny little neck. . .

A wave of shame and horror shot through Jeff like an electrified bullet. Those thoughts were evil, twisted and monstrous. They couldn't have been his. At least, he didn't want them to be his. 

"I. . ." Jeff struggled. He could feel his eyes shaking in his sockets. Darkness was coming.

"Easy there," said Dr. Walton, hurrying over. "He's just exhausted. Give him some space, Mark."

Jeff had felt cold hands as they took him by the wrist, and colder hands as they took him by the mind.

That had been Christmas. For the first time he could remember, Jeff had known joy. Something had taken that joy from him.

Jeff seized the pocket mirror from his nightstand, staring intently into the crystal glass. His twisted reflection looked back at him. He bit his lip timidly. He hoped, he prayed, that a dream was all it had been.

[bittersweetimaginings]

Hi! Can you do what it would be like to date Queen Maeve (she/her pronouns please)

General Dating HC! • Queen Maeve

⚠️Content warning: none, I think?

*These characters do not belong to me, all rights to their respective owners, this is just a piece of entertainment by and for fans.

Summary: Title is really self-explanatory.

Reader’s pronouns: She/Her

Keys: Y/N = Your Name. In case you’ve forgotten: Margaret “Maggie” Shaw is the real name of Queen Maeve in the series.

Author's note: If you want to send your own request, please check the Disclaimer & Rules post and the MASTERLIST post to see more content and which characters are available

I must say, I do believe the relationship with Maeve might change slightly in certain aspects if you're either a regular human or a supe (and even if you’re a supe, the dynamic might also change depending on your powers), but because it wasn’t specified here if Reader is either human or supe, I made this HC as general as possible and only including aspects I think would remain the same in either situation.

If you met the Maeve who's been in the seven for a long time, a relationship is something she's avoiding rather than looking; this is likely because of either Vought, Homelander or both: Vought would be quick to find a way to capitalize on the relationship so they can pinkwash their image as much as capitalisticly possible, it's honestly disgusting. As for Homelander, he'll be furious; Losing is something he not only hates but something that threatens his fragile ego and the already distorted perception he has of himself; he still "loves" Maeve (in his own, very fucked up way) and he's been trying for a long time to rekindle their relationship, you forming a relationship with Maeve means he has lost one of the very few things people he cares about and therefore he might view you as a wall preventing him to reach his objective, so he'll make sure to break you.

If you met her before she joined the seven, she might be more lenient on the idea of beginning a relationship with you (especially if the two of you already had one) but she'll continue to push you away numerous times.

Maeve has shut down everyone she cares about, that way Vought nor Homelander can harm them and will make it much easier for her to give up her life if one day she has to fight against Homelander to take him down.

That's why, you're most likely the one to pursue the relationship in the first place.

Even when she starts catching feelings, she'll try her best to appear as if she either doesn't like you or doesn't care about you, especially if Homelander is near.

Which sometimes can be quite hard on you, because she might treat you so bad and cold-heartedly and might hurt your feelings in more ways than she ever expected or wanted.

But as the two of you inevitably get closer and share more and more small but beautiful moments, her feelings eventually start to catch up to her and she begins to open up slowly.

Once she does it might surprise you how vulnerable and sensitive Maeve actually is.

She pretends not to, but Maeve is the one who cares the most about everyone around her and it's filled with guilt and sadness for the ones she was unable to save.

And for that very reason, she panics when the realization of how closer you two have grown starts to dawn on her and your relationship might take two steps back before moving forward as Maeve tries to push you away once again.

Though this time around you're able to figure out how to get past that act of hers more easily.

After that I believe she'll start to be more honest with herself and you about her own feelings and stop putting so much of a front.

She'll treat you much more softly and tenderly than ever before and might allow herself to give in and give you the first kiss.

She smiles at you all the time, especially when she observes the little quirky things you do when you think no one is looking.

Maeve loves being of help to you, so whatever you need she'll make sure to provide one way or another.

One thing that doesn't change, is how protective she is of you, always making sure not Homelander or Vought know about or can get to you, and this might stir many conflicts in your relationship but over time you both might be able to handle it with more ease.

Maeve is a very supportive partner and loves listening and being involved in whatever you're passionate about or the goals you want to pursue, even if she doesn't necessarily understand them completely.

You're the one person in her life that calls her by her real name "Margaret" "Maggie" "Margo" whatever variant you choose, she's happy to hear her name coming from you, it's been a long time since someone has called her that and it's surprised by the feeling of comfort it gives her; since in many ways the alias of "Queen Maeve" has turned in her own prison.

I strongly believe Maggie is the little spoon in cuddle sessions; she always has to be the strong one in every other situation in her life, she really does enjoy the moments of vulnerability she shares with you.

Both find it funny that she can probably punch a building down but she appears as if made of paper in your arms, adorable.

She might struggle with remembering things like dates, anniversaries, birthdays, etc; she has a lot on her mind but she'll apologize and make it up to you, don't worry.

I also very much believe Maggie to be a foodie (notice most of her scenes with Elena there's some talk about food? Idk if it was intentional or not, but I like to believe that this is because Maeve really likes food and is a comfort for her on hard times).

She adores taking you out for dinner in all kinds of restaurants, exploring new foods and flavors is just one of her favorite things, plus she gets to watch your reactions when trying them out.

She knows all the best places in town to eat.

If by any chance you know how to cook and you're good at it, Maggie might just consider to slap a ring on your finger right then and there istg.

Overall Maggie, although difficult at first, I believe she'll make for a great partner once she opens up to you; she still has a lot of issues to work through, but she'll definitely try to be a better person not only for you and your relationship, but because deep down, I believe she also wants to genuinely be a hero her younger-more-hopeful self would be proud of.

[dustylava]

English is not my native language, so, i'm so sorry.

Weddings are a rather strange event. Especially, if you don't visit them often enough and don't know, too well, what to do and how to do. So your beloved, too, found herself in such a strange situation. Not only that, is she not Queen Maeve here, but just Margaret. Not a heroine, just a Y/n's girlfriend. So, moreover, she doesn't know anyone here. Of course, Maeve is not a coward, but Margaret was still worried.

There weren't too many guests at this wedding, and Margaret didn't know anyone here, except you. But the situation improved quite quickly. Surprisingly, the guests were very nice and friendly people. No one treated her like a supe, on the contrary, Margaret was here, Margaret, your girlfriend. She didn't need to be responsible for anything, other than herself. At this wedding, she is as ordinary a guest, as the others. She was here, because the bride asked you to give her an invitation, and the bride was very glad, that Margaret accepted it. But still, before the group photos, Margaret was asked, with apologizing and with a request, not to take it for rudeness, whether she agrees to be in the pictures, and if she wants, all the photos, in which she will be depicted, will go exclusively to the family album and nowhere else. -So... They won't be posted on the Internet? -If you say that, then yes, no one will post photos, where you are, even a glimpse. The wedding was going very well. Without much luxury, but cozy. Seeing your beloved relax more and more, you were more and more happy. But that's not the point now.

Having faithfully fulfilled your duties, as a bridesmaid, you, with a pure soul, went to the set table, to help the groom's sister with treats, and, at the same time, steal the best pieces of different dishes for yourself and Maggie. The table was full of various dishes and desserts, drinks and snacks, which, for the most part, were prepared by the bride herself, your grandmother.

You periodically glanced at Margaret, who, sitting next to the newlyweds, listened to your grandmother's story, about how happy she finally is. She is glad, that after so many years of an unhappy marriage, with her first a drunkard husband, who, thanks God, left her, she can live a happy life, with a decent and loving man, even if not for very long. And the story of a newly-made husband, who put his whole life into hard work, and in the end, got nothing. But, on the other hand, now he is here, next to the most beautiful and amazing, kind and sympathetic woman in the world. Well, once again, let their marriage not be too long, but it will be the happiest.

-They look so happy... - Margaret, coming up to you, looked back at, now, husband and wife. -Yes... - You smiled, handing her a plate of salad. - Grandmama dreamed of being a happy wife all her life. Leon is a good man, - you, too, looked at them. - I'm glad, they're together. Maggie just looked at your grandmother and her husband with a soft smile. - They both deserve to be happy... There are not many moments in life, when Queen Maeve feels absolutely calm and relaxed. Now, for some reason, she feels such a pleasant, homely and warm atmosphere. Margaret wanted to say, that she was glad to be here, that everything was becoming so magical and beautiful with you, but looking at your peaceful, almost dreamy expression, she just gently put her arm around your waist and kissed your temple.

-When uncle Leon and aunt Marina kissed each other, why did everyone counted? - The youngest guest has approached you, and, concurrently, the current husband's youngest niece. She was holding an almost empty glass of juice in both hands. -Do you want more juice? - Maggie leaned a little closer to the girl. In response, she, again, stared at her with admiring eyes and nodded. The non-heroine smiled, purring: "okay, give me a glass," and, after a couple of moments, gave it back, filled with cherry juice. -This is a tradition. - While you were explaining, Lilya thanked your beloved. - So it turns out, that what figure we got, while Leon and Marina were kissing, that's how many years they will live in a happy marriage, or how much they love each other. It's not that serious, but rather like entertainment for guests. -And how many did we count..? -23. - Maggie fixed your hair a little. -That's a lot... - Lilya sipped her juice carefully. -Well, let's hope, it will be longer and stronger. - The youngest nodded in agreement and went to her mother, promising to come back to you again.

Margaret kissed you gently on the forehead. -At the beginning of the ceremony, she came up to me and, blushing deeply, said, that I looked like a princess. And then, she ran away. -Well, it's true. - You took your love by the hand, looking her straight in the eyes. - In this dress, you really look like the most beautiful princess... -Oh, really? - The woman stretched out in a satisfied smile. - And I thought, that I'am the queen and you are my princess. -As you say, my Highness. - You kissed Queen Maeve's hand. She was about to pull you into a deep kiss, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marina getting up an improvised pedestal. -I'm going to help her. - In response, you nodded. Turning back to the table, you saw a plate of salad, left by Margaret. This salad looked too appetizing.

You were so busy with a delicious snack, that you missed the moment, when the newly-made wife threw her bouquet. More precisely, you just didn't get up in a bunch. You've made your choice. Sorry, the bride's bouquet, but this salad and these rolls are out of competition. But the bride's bouquet decided otherwise. It flew through the whole small crowd of lined up women, and fell almost next to you. You only noticed it, when you heard laughter.

Without letting go of the glass of delicious wine, you looked at the bouquet, and then at the guests. -Ladies, I'm exchange the bouquet for a cake. -You will not exchange anything! - In a playful anger, Margaret picked up the bouquet and, removing the glass from your hands, kissed you. Your grandmother quickly shouting: "one!" And all the guests picked up the count.

[geochild]

GeoChild - India's first child rights magazine

·       “There are many little ways to enlarge your child’s world. Love of books is the best of all.” – Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Former First Lady of U.S.

·       “Reading is essential for those who seek to rise above the ordinary.” – Jim Rohn

·       “You don’t have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them.” – Ray Bradbury

·       “Think before you speak. Read before you think.” – Fran Lebowitz

·       “Let’s be reasonable and add an eighth day to the week that is devoted exclusively to reading.” – Lena Dunham

·       “The reading of all good books is like conversation with the finest people

of the past centuries.” – Descartes

·         “Books are a uniquely portable magic.” – Stephen King

·         “I read a book one day and my whole life was changed.” – Orhan Pamuk

·         “Today a reader, tomorrow a leader.” – Margaret Fuller

·         “I kept always two books in my pocket, one to read, one to write in.” – Robert Louis Stevenson

·         "There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate's loot on Treasure Island." – Walt Disney

·         “My alma mater was books, a good library…. I could spend the rest of my life reading, just satisfying my curiosity.” – Malcolm X

·         “Man reading should be man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in one’s hand.” – Ezra Pound

·         “If we encounter a man of rare intellect, we should ask him what books he reads.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

·         “Make it a rule never to give a child a book you would not read yourself.” – George Bernard Shaw, Irish Writer

·         “Books serve to show a man that those original thoughts of his aren’t very new after all.” – Abraham Lincoln, Former U.S. President

·         “Some books leave us free and some books make us free.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

·         “Once you learn to read, you will be forever free.” – Frederick Douglas

·         “Wear the old coat and buy the new book.” – Austin Phelps, Theologian

·         “You may have tangible wealth untold. Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold. Richer than I you can never be — I had a mother who read to me.” – Strickland Gillilan, Poet

·         “The man who does not read good books is no better than the man who can’t.” – Mark Twain, Humorist

·         “A book is a gift you can open again and again.” – Garrison Keillor

·       Books become permanent companions. Sometimes, they are born before us; they guide us during our life journey and continue for many generations. -  Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam

·       Coming into contact with a good book and possessing it, is indeed an everlasting enrichment. - Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam

·       Books are only made so that they may point the way to a higher life; but no good results unless the path is trodden with unflinching steps! - Swami Vivekananda

·       “ Don’t limit a child to your own learning he was born in another time- Rabindranatha tagore

[jondalars]

movies, tv shows, and books of 2017

((as before,  * is a rewatch/reread; currently watching; can’t get through))

Skam (s3, s4)

The OA (s1)

Misfits (s1*, s2*, s3*)

My Mad Fat Diary (s1*, s2*)

A Series of Unfortunate Events (s1)

Smallville (s4*)

Don’t Breathe (2016)

The Eric Andre Show (s1, s2, s3, s4)

How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia by Mohsin Hamid

Hidden Figures (2016) & *

Schindler’s List (1993)

Sophie’s Choice (1982)

Timeless (s1)

Shadowhunters (s2)

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

The Imposter (2012)

Tickled (2016)

Riverdale (s1)

Jenny and the Jaws of Life by Jincy Willett

In the Flesh (s1*, s2*)

Till We Have Faces by CS Lewis

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2016)

Doctored Images by Robert Sherrier

Moonlight (2016)

The Happening (2008)

Love & Friendship (2016)

The Office (s4*, s5*)

The Hating Game by Sally Thorne

Cléo de 5 à 7 (1962)

The Wind Done Gone by Alice Randall

The Witch (2015)

Girls on Fire by Robin Wasserman

Grey Gardens (1975)

Holy Motors (2012)

Lion (2016) & *

Plein Soleil (1960)

On Beauty by Zadie Smith

Becoming Native to This Place by Wes Jackson

Moana (2016) & *

Arrival (2016)

The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemmingway

We Need to Talk About Kevin (2011)

Confirmation (2016)

Get Out (2017)

Unspoken by Sarah Rees Brennan

Untold by Sarah Rees Brennan

Unmade by Sarah Rees Brennan

Roswell (s1*)

Pride and Prejudice (2005) ****

Beauty Queens by Libba Bray

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Saenz

The Ultimate Gift (2006)

Cold Magic by Kate Elliott

The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams

Men in the Off Hours by Anne Carson

Pain & Gain (2013)

Cold Fire by Kate Elliott

If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho by Anne Carson

The Rules of Attraction by Bret Easton Ellis

The Plays of Oscar Wilde by Oscar Wilde (LWF, S, WNI, AIH, IBE*) 

Degrassi: Next Class (s3, s4)

Big Little Lies (s1)

The Importance of Being Earnest (2002)

Face/Off (1997) *

Degrassi (s10*)

Death Becomes Her (1992)

Garth Marenghi's Darkplace (s1)

Cold Steel by Kate Elliott

To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf *

Feud (s1)

13 Reasons Why (s1)

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

The Social Network (2010) *

Bowling for Columbine (2002)

Mutiny on the Bounty (1935)

Extras (s1)

Chewing Gum (s2)

The Virgin Suicides (1999) *

And Then There Were None (s1*)

My Cousin Vinny (1992) *

A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin *

Vineland by Thomas Pynchon

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks (2017)

The Handmaid’s Tale (s1)

Personal Shopper (2016)

Brokeback Mountain (2005)

The Handmaid’s Tale (1990)

My Own Private Idaho (1991)

Gosford Park (2001)

Kynodontas (2009)

The Island (2005)

Notorious (2009)

Busanhaeng (2016)

Last Night I Sang to the Monster by Benjamin Alire Saenz

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

The Girl on the Train (2016)

Law & Order: SVU (s18)

Rize (2005) *

Phoenix (2014) *

American Gods (s1)

The Bank Dick (1940)

Gentlemen Broncos (2009)

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

Play It as It Lays by Joan Didion

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (s3)

Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson

The People Look Like Flowers At Last by Charles Bukowski

North & South (2004) *

The Beauty of the Husband by Anne Carson & *

The Keepers (s1)

The Girls by Emma Cline

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (2015) *

Clue (1985) *

Finding Dory (2016) *

The Secret Life of Pets (2016)

The Great Gatsby (1974)

The Great British Baking Show (s3)

The End of Everything by Megan Abbott

Suite Française (2014)

Across the Universe (2007)

Casting JonBenet (2017)

Life (2015)

Blindness by Jose Saramago *

The Iron Giant (1999)

Freaks & Geeks (s1*)

Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

Jurassic Park (1993) *

Habibi by Craig Thompson

The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997) *

Jurassic Park III (2001) *

Jurassic World (2015) *

Children of Men (2006)

Oh, Hello on Broadway (2017)

Queen of Katwe (2016)

Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins

Testament of Youth (2014)

The Final Girls (2015)

Wandafuru raifu (1998)

Updraft by Fran Wilde

Okja (2017)

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle *

Unbreakable (2000)

Dunkirk (2017)

A Wind in the Door by Madeleine L’Engle

Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief (2015) *

War & Peace (s1)

Stage Beauty (2004)

Defending Your Life (1991)

Sleepers (1996)

Game of Thrones (s7)

Ella Minnow Pea by Mark Dunn

Odd Thomas (2013)

Spirited Away (2001)

In Bruges (2008) *

12 Years a Slave (2013) *

Elvis & Annabelle (2007)

Showgirls (1995)

The Book of Negroes by Lawrence Hill

Almost Famous (2000) *

Princess Mononoke (1997)

Kill Your Darlings (2013) *

Francis Ha (2012)

Much Ado About Nothing (2012) *

Howl’s Moving Castle (2004)

Iris (2015)

My Neighbor Totoro (1988)

Tiny Furniture (2010)

Gameboard of the Gods by Richelle Mead

Following (1998) *

Meet the Blacks (2016)

The Falling (2014)

Amélie (2001) *

Death Note (2017)

Anastasia (1997) *

A Clash of Kings by George R.R. Martin *

The Good Place (s1)

Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente *

The Red and the Black by Stendhal

To the Bone (2017)

Experimenter (2015)

The Land Before Time (1988) *

A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeleine L’Engle *

Wonder Woman (2017)

Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood *

It (1990)

I, Claudius by Robert Graves *

The Reader (2008)

Bojack Horseman (s4)

It (2017)

Love Songs (2007)

Girl Asleep (2015)

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn *

The Squid and the Whale (2005)

Sing Street (2016)

White Noise by Don DeLillo *

The Beguiled (2017)

Def Comedy Jam 25 (2017)

Shameless (s1, s2, s3, s4, s5, s6, s7)

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton *

Goon (2011)

The Breakfast Club (1985) *

The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin

American Vandal (s1)

Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold (2017)

Stranger Things (s2)

Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell *

Free Fire (2016)

You Instead (2011)

The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen

Factory Girl (2006) *

Girls Trip (2017)

The Robber Bride by Margaret Atwood

Edge of Tomorrow (2014)

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers

Sense and Sensibility (1995) *

Emma (1996) *

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen *

Amnesiac (2015)

What Happened, Miss Simone? (2015)

The 100 (s1, s2, s3, s4)

Emma by Jane Austen *

Dark (s1)

Outlander by Diana Gabaldon

Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys

The Edge of Seventeen (2016)

Miss Stevens (2016)

Mudbound (2017)

Logan (2017)

Ex Machina (2015)

The Love Witch (2016)

Matilda by Roald Dahl

The Walking Dead (s1*, s2*, s3*, s4*)

Just Kids by Patti Smith

X-Me (2000) *

X2 (2003) *

Democracy by Joan Didion

X-Men: The Last Stand (2006) *

Dancer (2016)

Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw

Lady Bird (2017)

X-Men: First Class (2011) *

X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) *

The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov

Lady Macbeth (2016)

X-Men: Apocalypse (2016)

[madwomansapologist]

untouchable + Queen Maeve (the boys)

Taylor Swift Writing Challenge: Untouchable

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Queen Maeve | #taylor swift writing challenge | AO3

synopsis: You fell in love with Margaret, but all you can do is watch her on TV wondering if one day you won't feel so alone.

warnings: little bit of angst. Vought deserves it's own warning. read this while hearing Untouchable, on the album Fearless, by Taylor Swift

It was an expensive dress. The brand was named after its designer, you couldn't write it down if you weren't looking. French, maybe German. But the high heels, oh, you know that name. Louboutin. Dark green, with jewels studded over the fingers, lightweight. The makeup was not done by you, but by a Vought makeup artist.

And it was like that, perfect from head to toe, that you spend your friday night devouring cheeseburgers while watching Pride and Prejudice and trying not to cry.

The lights were off, but that didn't mean you were on the dark. Maeve's apartment at Vought had a wide, floor-to-ceiling window, that let you observe the whole city. Not only the stars, but every single light burning down the tower. It made you feel even more alone.

She didn't even send you a message. Ashley was the one that called you. She was the one that told you that Margaret couldn't make it tonight. She was the one that send you cheeseburgers and wine and told you to have a you night. And Margaret... she didn't even send you a fucking message.

When Mr. Darcy crossed the field with that grey coat you decided to turn it off. You made the whole night without crying, but you're not strong enough to hear his last plea.

You pressed some buttons and a news channel echoed through the room. Journalists were arguing, or perhaps it was deputies. It didn't matter, they talked about police brutality or something. It was the same as always: someone said something coherent and the other person accused them of being a communist. You just turned your brain off, and let the bold colors hypnotize you.

But at some point she appeared. Smiling. That person look just like your Maggie, but it isn't her. It was Queen Maeve. The hero. The fighter. The woman of the decade. Inspiration from children around the world. On screen you saw a goddess, not your wife.

You knew it would be hard. You were prepared for all types of shit. But you thought you both were a team. That she would be beside you, fighting along with you. You were ready to deal with violence, and threats, and homophobia and the fear of losing her. But not the loneliness.

Margaret is more than just a star. She burns brighter than the sun. But she's also as distant as it. And it hurts you. It breaks you. Because all you want if for her to sit beside you and be there. How hard it is to be there to someone you love? How could she not see how this is killing you?

You should've ended this. You mom told you that, but you just couldn't. Because when she's next to you, it's like a little taste of heaven. You feel like come undone. But those wonderful moments don't last forever. They always end, and they always end with she moving away from you.

And after so long apart, when you thought that she would finally be there, you end up alone on a expensive couch watching her from a big screen.

The commercials worked like lullabies. Soon you fell asleep. Crooked on the sofa, with your neck in a way that wouldn't give you peace the next day, and your feet out of the blanket. It was a dreamless sleep.

But you woke up feeling a weight on your body. You blinked, trying to understand where you were. You're on the bed. Covered, without that tight dress, and with socks on your feet.

"It's late," she murmured. Maggie were right beside you, hugging your sleepy body. Closed eyelids, tired voice. "Everything will be fine."

That promise lived in limbo between truth and lie. You know she wants it to be true, but she can't guarantee it. Every night after another disappoiment you both have to make a choice. And you both always chose the same.

Maggie always chooses to say what you want to her.

And you always choose to say what she wants to hear. "Welcome home."

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[bittersweetimaginings]

Hi! Can you write Queen Maeve x reader (she/her) where Maeve and reader were broken up, but after the plane crash in season one, Maeve goes to the reader, and they get back together?

In your arms • Queen Maeve

⚠️Content warning: Mentions of trauma, depression, panic attacks, the plane sequence, Homelander’s general awfulness, alcoholism, self-destructive behavior and unstable relationship.

*These characters do not belong to me, all rights to their respective owners, this is just a piece of entertainment by and for fans.

Summary: In the wake of a traumatic event and horrid realizations, Maggie comes back to you.

Reader’s pronouns: She/Her

Keys: Y/N = Your Name, Y/MN = Your Mother’s name/nickname. In case you’ve forgotten: Margaret “Maggie” Shaw is the real name of Queen Maeve in the series. 

Author's note: If you want to send your own request, please check the Disclaimer & Rules post and the MASTERLIST post to see more content and which characters are available; Idk if Maeve is OCC, I rewatched a lot of her scenes with Elena and she always seems to be much more vulnerable around her, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

"Maybe it was a bad idea." Maeve reflects for the first time since leaving that liquor store with enough alcohol in hand to supply an entire party; but her regret doesn't do much good, after all, she's already knocked on your door and she can hear movement through it that indicates you're on your way to open it and once you do, you can't stop a mixture of surprise and confusion invading your facial expression;  she is standing in front of you after so long, wearing loose and somewhat disheveled clothes, her hair looks a bit messy and although you can't see her at all, you notice her tired face and her puffy eyes that hint she might have been crying for a long time before coming here.

"Hey, Y/N." she greets you in a small voice, for some reason unable to look directly at you.

“Maeve?!” you asked more surprised than angry, even though you had reason enough to be, the last time you saw her she treated you so coldly that depression caught you for a long time.

You can see her carefully thinking about her answer before speaking again.

"Can- Can I come in?"

You hesitate for a few seconds, looking her up and down, trying to gauge her intentions somehow, but it's hard to know what she's up to; having come to you so unexpectedly after so long, and even though a part of you wants to slam the door right in her face, there is also something in you that ultimately notices how restless Maeve seems and you can't ignore the feeling of worry that comes over you; so just by nodding and without saying anything you let her in.

Maeve walks in so carefully and with so much hesitation, she manages to remind you of a shy baby deer exploring an unfamiliar area.

"Tea?" you offer as you walk into the kitchen on your way to turn off the pot you left on before her arrival and she gently accepts the offer.

The silence is awkward and Maeve's gaze travels over the details of your home as she waits for you to return from your trip to the kitchen, until she finally settles on one of the framed photos on the main shelf: in it you are smiling radiantly while holding your doctorate degree in your hands; Maeve smiles back with genuine happiness and pride, in her mind she remembers the many times in the past when you told her your life plan and the enthusiasm and determination in your eyes when you swore to heaven and earth that you would become one of the greatest exponents in your field.

Your steps announcing your return capture her attention and she congratulates you with a smile still present.

“Hey, you got it! When was the ceremony?

"A month ago, right on my mom's birthday." You hand her the cup of tea while taking a sip from your own as you respond calmly.

“Y/MN birthday? Man, bet she didn’t stop bragging about it to her friends, she’s right in doing so though, you’ve always been the smartest one in the room” she chuckles fondly to herself and although you enjoy this moment, you also feel some anger seeing Maeve act so nonchalantly as if time had frozen in a past where both were happy, maybe that's why you aggressively bring her back to reality.

“Why are you here?” the spark of anger inside you dripping in your tone.

Her smile fades into her previous timid and unsure demeanor and once again avoids your gaze.

“I was in the area and I thought…you know, If um, you wanna maybe…get some food? or we could-”

“Are you serious?” you cut her off and she stops immediately, not entirely sure what you want her to say.

“Margaret, you know how long it’s been? It's been 5 years since I last saw you! and now what? all of a sudden you show up at my door, looking like shit, acting like nothing has happened and you wanna go grab dinner?! bullshit!”

The anger in your words seems to hit her really hard with the truth of the situation, as she struggles to find her voice over the knot now forming in her throat, she declares quietly and sadly:

“This was a bad idea, I’m sorry.”

She turns her back on you, ready to leave just like the last time you saw her, and this only angers you even more.

“You haven’t changed at all, always leaving without an explanation, brave Maeve my ass, you’re a coward that’s what you are!” As soon as the words leave your mouth a part of you regrets it, but also your chest somehow now feels lighter, as if all you had said had liberated all the anger, sadness, resentments and insecurities Margaret had left you with 5 years ago.

Your breakup was one of the hardest things you had to deal with in your life, it happened at a point in time where what you needed most was the support of your dear girlfriend; your world was genuinely crashing down on you and yet Margaret left you, one day she just came to pack up her things and end the relationship without even giving you a reason why; You still remember how you chased her around the house, begging her not to leave, but she just locked the front door with her super strength preventing you from following her to the Vought limo she left in. Next thing you know, you're seeing your beloved girlfriend on VNN alongside Homelander confirming their relationship.

It was just so painful; it seemed like all this time, all the things you two had shared meant nothing, like you meant nothing. What a horrid realization, you almost let it crush you, almost, but you were strong and people in your family depended on you to keep living, so giving up was out of the question; In the end you “suck it up” and bury yourself in your work and studies like there’s no world outside of it. More than once you tried to get back in the dating world, but even though you would never admit to it outloud, the memory of your beloved Maggie ever present in your heart just wouldn’t let you. After everything you still loved her.

She stands there, frozen and silent like a ghost, room so quiet you start to become aware of your own ragged breathing, but then you hear it; faint yet desperate the sobs of Margaret break into your ears.

“You’re right.” she admitted, back still turned on you and her head slightly lowered.

“I am nothing but a coward.” she whines softly as she unsuccessfully tries to quiet down her sobbing but it starts to break in a choked and painful crying.

Through your rage, Margaret’s sadness and pain reaches you; you can’t see her face but you know by the sound of her cries it must bare a pitiful expression and so you breathe slowly in order to calm yourself down, and it’s only there that you notice her shaking form, you almost become scared for a split second, it feels like if she were to take a step forward she would fall to her knees instantly.

It’s been a long time since you last saw her like this, but you just know she’s going through it, she’s going through a panic attack.

“Hey, hey Margaret.” you call out softly to her as you slowly make your way over in an equally detained and dubious manner as she did once she entered the apartment.

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” you chant repeatedly as you finally stand in front of her and try your best to not cry as well. Once you see the unbearable pain in her expression, her breathing is ragged and agitated and through her gaze you see that her mind is not entirely here and seems to struggle in recognizing her surroundings.

“Maggie, it’s ok, you’re in my home, ok?” you assure her a few times but she still struggles now even in finding her footing as her legs start to give in.

“I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.” Her frenetic apology concerns you but manage to keep your calm as you reassure her once again and remind her to breathe constantly.

She finally seems to recognize her surroundings but once she does she breaks in painful crying once again. 

“I left them there, I left them there and said nothing, I left them there to die.” she confesses but before you have any time to ask her what she’s referring to, her knees give in and collapses.

You manage to hold her before she hits the floor, as you briefly think of the irony, one of the strongest individuals in the world feels so fragile between your arms; She apologizes endlessly once again in between choked sobs and frenetic cries, but you hug her and caress her hair and back in repetitive motions in an attempt to calm her down, it seems to work and after a few minutes you can feel the panic in her system begin to dwindle as her breaths stabilizes slowly but she continues sobbing.

Maggie’s head is trying to find the correct words to tell you, to let you know; She didn’t want to abandon you, she never did; after all these years you still are her world and the only thought in her mind that keeps her going at times like this. She only left because she was pressured into a relationship with america’s golden hero and after seeing him kill so ruthlessly without a care in the world and Vought covering for him, she knew if she didn’t left, the moment homelander found out about you, that would be your death sentence and she wasn’t about to let anything happen to you…even if that meant she would never see you again. 

Maggie only speaks once again after a while.

“I’m sorry.” Unlike the last apologies this one feels like is directed towards you instead of whatever or whoever occupied her memories at the time. 

You take a minute trying to figure out what to do next, you want to question her on the meaning of her previous statements, but recognize that right now is not the right time, so you resume caressing her back as she continues to cry ever so softly on your shoulder.

For the first time in years, Margaret allows herself to be vulnerable, for the first time in years she doesn’t feel all alone and right now at this very moment, right here in your arms, for the first time in years she’s not Queen Maeve, just Maggie, the one who loves you endlessly.

[dustylava]

Y/n is holding on with the last of her strength, so as not to cry.

Men: Homelander: rolls his eyes and makes a face of disgust. A-Train: "well, you... Well, don't be sad, come on. Good luck to you." The Deep: "oh, come on. It's not that bad. The poor things in the ocean are much worse off, don't be selfish!" Black Noir: hastily turns away, continuing his business.

Ladies: Ashley: "when you smile, my legs are buckling!" Queen Maeve: "my heart beats faster because of your beautiful eyes!" Starlight: "when you're next to me, the stars shine brighter!"

Ashley: "A beautiful flower, that grew out of pain, I will take care of you. There is no need to be afraid anymore." Starlight: "I will hold you close to me, so you are not afraid of the darkness inside of you." Queen Maeve: "everyone who hurt you, is a dead man. I will kill all those, who dared to touch you."

[madwomansapologist]

guys I am so proud of this one 🥺

Queen Maeve: fake dating

Masterlist | Taglist | Personal blog | More Queen Maeve | AO3

Ꮚ requests are open

synopsis: When the new member of The Seven and Queen Maeve made fans hearts go crazy, Vought decide that is was the perfect moment to a little fake relashionship. A saphicc couple would grant then so many points with the youngs and queers! They only didn't know that Queen Maeve had feelings for you. You also didn't know that.

notes: I did something different this time, hope y'all like it

warnings: female!reader. Vought deserve its own warning.

• You pinched yourself all the way to your first public appearance as a member of The Seven. That must be a dream! It happened before. While trying to sleep, at the shower, going to your mundane work: you imagine yourself on that position. But your pinches didn't wake you up. Fucking god, you are part of The Seven!

• Ashley helped you on the entrance surrounded by journalists and civillians. They were there... for you? They screamed your name, asked for pictures, thank you for all you did for them. You dreamed about a moment like this, but now it is true. It seens like you will need time to understand that.

• When you finally made it into the building, Ashley accompanied you while talking about how high your numbers with young women were and how your "new girl in town" energy made you popular with both men and women. What does that even mean? She grumbled that your name could have been better, Ice Princess was so basic, but at least it worked with kids. Your mind wasn't capable of holding all the information she told you, but you knew that when the lights went on you need enter the stage with Madelyn fucking Stillwell.

• It was different then the day Starlight was announced. Many women were on the stage talking about how the world need more women on important positions. Girl power! No one pronounced the name, but they were talking about The Deep. He was replaced after the horrible things he did to Starlight. Replace by you. Thats the reason why no other member of The Seven were there: Vought didn't want to appear like that story would happen again.

• Your first meeting with the team was... like being on heaven. Your heroes were right in front of you. Noir was just like you imagined: a mistery that would never be solved. A-Train sounded so mature, so knowing of the weight on his shoulders. Translucent weren't there, he was in a important secret mission. Homelander was some kind of Jesus. But not everything was perfect.

• Starlight seem... kinda sad. Almost melancholic. Maybe she wasn't on a great day. Maybe she didn't like you. That scared you, but you could be wrong. But there were her. Queen Maeve. They all were heroes, but she was your hero. The women you look up to. Your inspiration. And if Starlight seem uncomfortable, she seem enraged.

• Your tried to lie to yourself. To pretend that it was just your mind tricking you into thinking that everyone hates you. It would've worked if all the other heroes didn't seem to like you. And the possibility of you being just confused was ruined when you had to use the bathroom.

You faced Starlight when you walked out of the bathroom cabin. She was in front of the mirror arranging her gold hair, that wasn't even messy, and made eye contact with you. A odd taste rule your mouth, but you tried to mask your discomfort with a smile. She didn't smiled back.

Washing your hands, you felt her gaze. You dried them, trying not to look like you were about to run out of there (because you were), but her words stopped you. "Its your first day here", pointed Starlight. She sighed, now facing you. "I won't be able to sleep without telling you what I wish someone had told me when I was on your position."

Your smile was so big it hurt your cheeks. You were wrong. Starlight don't hate you. She was just worried. "You wanna give me advice?"

"Yes. I do", Starlight stopped herself. It was like she wasn't sure how to proceed. "You know that image you have about The Seven? Forget it. It was all made by the marketing team. Don't trust them. Don't you ever make the mistake of trust them."

And as quickly as it came, your smile faded away. "W-What are talking about?" You didn't notice your hands shaking. "Is it a hoax?"

"You seem like a good person." Starlight passed by you, walking towards the door. "I hope you don't make the same mistakes I did. But, if you do, I'm here."

And she left you alone with your thoughts. You gazed the door, waiting for her to come back and joke about how scary you look. But the only thing that you saw was the last bathroom cabin door opening.

Queen Maeve walked toward the sink, glaring at you with a look that you couldn't understand. It was like a parody of an affectionate look. Something that should be seem as friendly. She licked her rosy lips, washing her hands beside you.

"I wouldn't have warned you. But now that she did, guess its my turn to give you some advice." Queen Maeve stopped right in front of you. You looked up to be able to see her face. "Do not disturb me, princess."

• You quickly understood what Annie meant. It was all about money. They sold themselfs. Their bodies, their morals. It made you feel deceived. At least Annie was nice. She helped you. Annie said she was only doing what she wish someone had done for her, but a friendship between you both grown. If you only could said the same about Queen Maeve.

• Part of you feel betrayed. She was your hero. The reason for you to fight. All those times you felt like giving up you think to yourself that Queen Maeve would never gave up. But then all she does is discuss about copyright. The other part feel wronged. She is a woman after all. Shouldn't her be with you both? You can't stop to think about when Annie vented about what that asshole did to her. Maeve knew who he really was. Apparently everyone knew. She could've have done something. She could've have warned her. She could've have protect her. She could at least have supported her.

• Its like everyone say: never meet your heroes.

Ashley said that being on a pair with Queen Maeve would bring you both so many audience points. You didn't want to be around Maeve, but you learned with Starlight mistakes: you accept what Vought give to you. You just didn't imagine that a ambush would last so longer.

Hidden inside a car, all you had to distract yourself was your powers. You made your fingertips freeze against the window, forming little drawings. You form some flowers, then cleaned with your arm so you could drawn more.

"Can't you just focous?" grumbled Maeve. Being around her wasn't comfortable, but at least you both seem to agree that silence was the better option. But when Maeve have a mean coment to make, she will.

"Am I disturbing you?" Your fingers were frozing, and yet your eyes burned her skin. You took down the binoculars on your lap.

"Someone is sensitive today", Maeve rolled her eyes. She checked the license plate she was looking for, just to make sure. "I'm just saying you should pay attention. You need those audience points."

"I'm paying attention. You can't do two things at the same time?"

Maeve didn't answer you. She smiled, what was as difficult to understand as her eyes. "You really do hate me, huh? C'mon, princess, show me your claws."

"I don't hate you." You really were sincere about it. "I just don't respect you. You are a empty doll the markenting create. Eveything you are is a meaningless product. I definitely don't hate you."

"That was supossed to hurt me?" Thats it. Now you get. The problem was on Maeve's eyes. Don't matter how sincere or careful the rest of her face look, those blue eyes always seem to be making fun of whoever she is looking at. They always seem to be mocking you. "You look at me like you hate me. Stop that. Or we won't be able to sell that we are good friends."

"Don't worry, I discovered that I am a great actress." You smiled back. You spend more time recording for Vought than fighting. Even that ambosh can't be considering saving someone. The car you both are using is from a sponsor. Your knew uniform will be anounced today during the recordings the hidden cameras are making. Your tights are almost completely visible. You aren't a hero anymore. "And I don't look at you with hate. It is fear."

"Fear?" Maeve's eyes seem to glow. "Of all people, I am the one that you are affraid of? I thought you were clever."

"I'm affraid of ending up like you."

For the rest of the night Maeve didn't opened her mouth again.

• It seem to be the year Maeve would have to deal with hopeful freshers. Starlight was already a problem, but now she have a partner in crime. Great. All she need was you to show how higher and nicer you were compared to her. She hated you. Maeve hated how you make all her flaws more apparent. At least you are more subtle about your goodness than Starlight.

• At the beginning she thought you were manipulative. Maeve notice how you pretend to still be living the dream, unknowing to the their flaws. That won Homelander's compassion. He treat you like an apprentice. Like someone he can shape. Maeve thought you were using his necessity of praises and doe eyes against him, but she don't think that way anymore.

It happenned when Homelander killed in front of you for the first time. You couldn't help but to stare at all those bodies. All that blood. It was... you never saw anything like that. Not even in movies. You couldn't have imagine that someone could have so much blood.

"Dont look at me that way", Homelander held you by your arms. He wasn't agressively, but he stained you with blood. While your face was apathetic, frozen because of the grotesque, your eyes were enough to show what you were feeling. "Stop that. I told you to stop."

"He was", your mouth remained open, but no words came out of it. Homelander hold you tighter, your eyes flew away from the body and landed into his ocean blue eyes. So blue. So unnatural. "Unarmed."

"Oh." He smiled. Starlight's smile is so bright, Maeve is satirical, but his... His smile was sterelized. It was like something trying to look human. Trying to hard to look human. "Princess, my sweet princess, what do you think would happenned if he let him go away? He would tell everyone how he were unable to protect those stupid people. We don't want that, do we?"

"But we..."

"But?" Homelander asked. His smile was gone. "There is no 'but' here."

"She is in shock." Starlight were shaking, and yet was more capable than you. "Not everyone is used to killing people."

He didn't move. You could see something conquering his face. It was a cold rage, agressive yet silent. You knew he didn't trust Starlight. He was always looking for a reason to make her life harder. And she was trying to protect you, even tho she could be putting herself in danger. "So we did the right thing?" Your voice was nothing but a weak whisper. You hold his hands, stroking the bloody glove. You learned to read him. He is just fine with being hated, but he would prefer to be loved. "Didn't we?"

The change was instantaneous. He was smiling again, but this time it seem more real. Homelander eyes glared at you with kindness. "Yes. Yes, we did." He look at the rest of the team. "Finally someone with a working brain here."

• Since then her opinion about you change. You were kind to choose to take Homelander's attention away from Starlight, while being clever enough to do it in a way that work, while also being strong to put yourself together after seeing a massacre. If you were manipulating him, you wouldn't be shaking with big tears sliding across your face. You were... something.

• After that she keep an eye on you.

• It was a smart move. To be close to everyone. You aren't dumb, you know that the best your relationship with the team is the safer you are. She understand your true friendship with Starlight, your pretend facet to Homelander, your respect toward Madelyn. She don't understand your friendship with Noir, thats for sure. She seem to be the only person you absolutely hate. And it kinda sucks.

• Maeve notice that you tend to agree to whatever Ashley and Madelyn say. No questions, no hesitation, just obedience. It wasn't fear. It was just caution. Beside Starlight, you found a way to have a good relationship with every member of The Seven. For Homelander you were a smart girl that need to be guided. With A-Train you were more snarky, but respectful. Not friends, but not a threat. Maeve is not so sure, but she thinks that you and Noir are friends. One time you entered the elevator with a coloring book on your hands, and a few days later Maeve saw Noir drawing on it during the lunch. She also saw him buying chocolate with nuts, something that you tend to eat during meetings.

• Specially when it is just you two. People really enjoy when you both work together, and Vought give them what they want. And it actually really works. Maeve is the sword, you are the shield. Her experience and your energy go well together. So is commom for Maeve to be around you. To be stuck in a ambush. Or to be together all the way since the Vought's parking lot til the hallway were your rooms are. It sucks to be around you because she can feel your hate. No. Not hate. Your fear of becoming her.

Money flew because of the wind. The rain washed the blood from your skin. Your hands hold the gun pointed to your head. The thief pulled the trigger, but the layer of ice you created stopped the bullet. The pressure has you knocked to your knees.

Maeve had just finished a man when she heard the shot. Without thinking twice, she punched him in the face. It was enough for him to faint. "You fine?" She crused the gun with her feet, making it impossible to use again."

"Yeah." Your fingers were bruised. With the back of your hands you brush the hair away from your face. Some of the blood on your skin was yours, but you never get really hurt. "Kinda."

Maeve reached out to you. You hesitated, but accepted the help. She put you on your feets and scanned your body, searching for any wounds. You felt shy under her gaze. "What happenned to your knees?"

"I felt yesterday." The knees are so important during a fight, but you will soon get used to the pain and it won't disturb you anymore. You stir your head, uncomfortable because the rain keep putting your hair in front of your eyes. "I'm fine."

Maeve bit her own tongue. "Come here." When you didn't move she sighed. "Just come here." You did as she asked. Right in front of Maeve, a thunder echoed. She walked around you, stopping behind you.

You shuddered when you felt her fingers on your hair. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you." She gattered your hair, using her fingers as a comb. So she tied up your hair on a ponytail. Maeve rested her hands on your shoulders, your skin was so cold. You were always so cold.

"Thank you, Maeve." You whispered, unable to move. Her hands were so warm. It was great to feel them on your skin.

"Is just Maggie." You turned to face her. She was so closed. Her armour touched your body, her metal colliding with your woof. "You can call me Maggie."

"Maggie", you tried the word. "Its a beautiful name."

You never disagreed with whatever Madelyn Stillwell said to you, but there are a first time for everything. "A fake relashionship?".

"Just for the cameras. Your audience points will... "

"Are you kidding me?" You interrupted Madelyn. "Is that a fucking joke?"

"So you can swear", Maggie laughed. "I didn't knew you were capable of that."

"This is crazy." You ignored her. "I won't do that. I've already sold enough of my body. I put on this stupidly short outfit, run with those uncomfortable heals, take all those pictures. I was on your movies. And I never said no to anything you wanted me to do. I won't sell the last bit of dignity that remains here."

And for that your obedience was useful. If you were like A-Train or Starlight, Madelyn would've said the most hurtful things without thinking twice. But you did everything right since the beginning, so that means she could use some of her patience with you. "Vought is not asking you to be naked. Your body will be just fine."

"Don't fucking lie to me." Maggie never saw you so mad. "I don't want that."

"What do you think will happen when some vulture discover your sexuality?"

"What the hell?" said Maggie. "Are you blackmailing me?"

"I wasn't talking to you, Maeve." Stillwell glared at you. "We spend a lot of money to pay those that come after us with photos of you. One day they will come to the journals instead. Then what will happen? The conservatives that once loved you... Your appeal with men gonna fall so bad. Depending of the photos even who isn't homophobe will call you a slut."

You cheeks were burning. Now you were almost punching her face. Maeve notice how you clenched your fists.

"But this is the perfect moment to put you both out of the closet." All you family and friends knew about your sexuality, but it didn't matter for the rest of world. "Your couple even have a hashtag. 'Royalty.' Oh, I only wish I have tought of that name. It fits your narrative so well."

"Stop that." Maggie grabbed your hand and made you stand up. "Don't embarrassed her. We gonna do it."

Madelyn smile was so bright. So fake. "Perfect. I knew you would help me."

She pulled you out of the room, but your shaky legs didn't let you move any longer. Your hands were freezing. Your whole body seen to be almost turning into ice. Your rage was so... you couldn't even hear your own thoughts.

Maggie opened the bathroom door, you don't even remember entering there. "Hey", Maggie tried to calm you. "You will be just fine."

"I hate that place", your voice was embargoed. You failed to stop a hiccup. "I hate everything here. I am not a person anymore. I am a thing. Not even my body is mine. When I die all that will remain will be pretty lies."

"It will be just fine. I promissed." Maggie lied, but that was what you need to hear. Just another pretty lie. "Everything will be just fine."

• It wasn't the most horrible thing. It wasn't comfortable, but at least it wasn't horrible. You both had to spend way more time together. It started with public signs of affection. She would help you with your hair, the public tend to love it, and you would clean Maggie's face after a fight. You go to events together, always found a time to bring eachothers name to any interview, hold hands while walking.

• It was all to foment a online discussion. It need to seem natural. People should be talking about how it was abviously that you're dating Maggie before the public announcement. Your instagram was filled with photos that showed someone with red hair behind you. Even the couch you took those pictures was a marketing decision.

• Maggie was... not what you imagined she would be like. She was sweet. Sarcastic and annoying and punchable, but sweet. Thats been a time since when you started to think different about her. You realized that maybe your reaction to her was because you felt like looking at a mirror. Starlight was everything you wish you could be, but Maeve was all you think you are. No, not Maeve, just Maggie. But being around her, having to actually interact with her, changed your mind.

• Maggie look carefree, but its just a appearance. She told you what was real about her history. Helped with your fear of what would happen to you in the future. Maggie told you that it gets easier. And she funny to. In a cinnical way, but she is. Its nice being around her.

• And you were glad you were doing this with her. She had done that before, the fake relashionship, so she helped you. You both have limits, places you don't want to be touched and things you don't want to be said to others. Its still embarrasing to feel her arms around you, her fingers caressing your hair, her lips kissing your forehead. It is weird because, sometimes, it don't feel like and act. But that was you being dumb. All that pretending thing just messed with your head. Sure that was the reason.

• Sometimes Maggie felt guilt. When you sit beside her on a interview and she hold your thigh. Or when you are walking somewhere and her hands are touching the bottom of your back. Or when she hug you after a mission. When her fingers caress your face. When the fake smile you put to the cameras make her heart skip a beat. Or when she sees you with someone else, someone from your personal life, and find herself in a spiral about who that person could be. Or when you ask her if your makeup is too dark. When she fight with you and suddenly start to think about how strong and powerful you are. When she heard a Taylor Swift's song on the radio and remind of you. When you make jokes about how Ashley never stop walking. When she says goodnight to you before entering her room.

• Maggie felt... everything. You make her feel everything. And you don't even seem to notice. If you only knew all the things she keep to herself so she can tell them to you. All the dirtiest jokes she only say to you because you will laugh. Do you notice that she always save you a seat? Or that she started to act nice around Starlight?

• Maggie isn't pretending and this is killing her.

You entered the bar thinking that you would have some time alone. You were wrong. "Guess we had the same idea."

Maggie was on her second Martini. "Rough day?"

"The worst." You go to the collection of bottles and got the best wine you could find. You didn't even use a glass, you drink it from the bottleneck. Maggie licked her bottom lip. You were right in front of her, on the other side of the balcony. "A-Train decided it was a great idea to irritate Homelander. Ashley screamed with me because I cut me hair without asking first. And yours?"

She brused her red hair from her face. She wasn't drunk, but her body was already warm. "Just boring." She analized your hair, noticing the change. Maggie reached out to touch it, brushing the back of her hand on your face. "You look gorgeous."

Your belly turned warm with her words. "Thank you."

Maggie released the lock. "You are welcome, princess." You took a big sip from the bottle. "Easy tiger. This is not your last day alive. You can drink more tomorrow."

"You don't know that", you arched your eyebrows. "It could be."

"And you would like to spend your last bit of time drinking?"

"Maybe." Her laugh made you smile. "I would die happy at least. And I would be drinking with you. If you were A-Train I would kill myself just to not look at him again."

"What a boring way to spend it."

"I don't have any regrets", you told her. "I think I deserve to spend my last day drinking and dancing."

"You don't have any regrets?" Maggie sound so grave. She drink the rest of her Martini without looking away. "Not even a single one?"

You hesitated. You could've just walked away. Go to your room and drink the rest of the bottle. Called someone to make you company. Sleep. You could've done no many other things. But you pulled Maggie into a kiss.

Your tongue danced with her, the bitter of her Martini blending in with your sweet wine. She hold your face, her fingers stroking your skin. It was calm, and intimate, and yearning. It was like finally find an oasis in the middle of the desert. It was meant to be.

"Not anymore." You whispered against her lips.

You could felt her smile.

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