#every little thing he does is strangely enough similar to something one/both of them did

[starrstunned]

harassment by my kitten he harasses everyone for food and he's an annoying shit who bites everything and smells bad. (I love him his name is merlin)

[aquaquadrant]

Sated

Word count: 1,200 Warnings: Violence, death, animal death A/N: My piece for the 5th edition of @trafficzine was Gem's session 7 task (the boogeyman apocalypse). Had lots of fun with it, please reblog/comment if u enjoy! - Aqua

Sated

~

It starts before Gem even opens her task book. 

Her mouth goes dry; she thinks it’s the shock, as she reads. It’s the weight of the task she’s just been given. She’s never been the boogeyman. That was before her time. And now she needs to infect the entire server. It’s a daunting task, but she’s up for the challenge. As she chats idly with her bandmates, a scratch starts up in her throat. She has to swallow down a cough a few times- though each time, her mouth gets drier.

After they disperse to prepare for their tasks, Gem kneels by the pond outside her cottage and scoops water into her cupped hands. But as soon as she puts it to her lips, it seems to evaporate. She can feel the water passing into her mouth, down her throat, into her stomach- but it does nothing to soothe her.

Her mouth is still dry. And worse, now- her stomach feels empty. Nibbling on a piece of steak brings a similar result; it’s dry and tough and flavorless, and after eating it, her stomach feels even emptier. There’s a powerful craving for… something inside her. An aching, yawning chasm in her heart.

It terrifies and confuses her. Is this what it’s like to be the boogeyman?

She stares at Scott and Impulse. They’re both green. They’re strong, healthy. She can see it in their eyes. And somehow, strangely enough, she can almost smell it on them- the extra hearts, the pure life flowing through their veins. It’s alluring. She licks her lips.

“Don’t come near me, just for a little while,” she tells them, turning away.

~

Gem’s kill on Bdubs leaves her reeling.

The second he poofs away, torn apart by zombies spawned by her hand, an odd sensation washes over her. It’s like the coolest, sweetest water soothing her sore throat. It’s a warm meal comfortably filling her stomach. It’s energy and strength flooding her veins, electricity out the tips of her fingers. After losing nearly two rows of hearts to Scar, it’s sorely needed. She’s almost giddy as she climbs back to the surface to find Bdubs.

He’s already licking his lips, before she even hands him the book. Killing is enough to spread the infection, then. As she guides him through the new task he’s been given, she feels her mouth go dry again, and she realizes that killing is only a temporary fix.

~

“You said you needed one more person,” Impulse says. Always eager to please, wanting to be involved in things. He thinks he understands, but he doesn’t. Not really.

Gem hesitates. “Trust me, you don’t- you don’t want…” She swallows, licks her lips. She and Bdubs have already tried and failed to kill Tango, and they’re both starting to feel it. Every step, every word, every breath takes more effort to get out. The scent of Impulse’s life is incredibly tempting, but she’d wanted to spare her band as long as she could. “I mean… no…”

Impulse insists. Bdubs kills him.

She sees him swallow it down; the relief that floods his wide eyes. The sudden vigor that returns to his body. The way he breathes a little easier. And she realizes that while the curse can only be spread if the newest victim takes part, the killer is the one who gets sated. 

Gem gasps. “You did it!” she cheers, even as she bites back her envy. “Did you gain hearts? You gained hearts, right? That felt good?”

“Yes, I did,” Bdubs breathes.

She tries not to hate him for it.

~

Gem’s sword slashes through the empty air where Scar used to be.

Pearl’s arrow got there a millisecond faster. Gem locks her feelings behind a smile of bared teeth. “Perfect,” she praises Pearl even though her mouth feels like sand and her limbs feel like lead. She’s been cursed longer than Pearl, she needs it more, can’t Pearl see how much she needed it?

She licks her lips. It doesn’t help.

~

Gem trudges next to Impulse, the cherry tree mountain looming before them. She gives him a sidelong look; Impulse’s face paint has dried into powder, dusted in the hollows of his cheeks. 

“Is the server weirdly quiet?” she asks. Every breath rasps against her throat, like she’s inhaling brambles. Her stomach gnaws at her. It’s been ages since her last kill.

“Yeah, I know,” Impulse murmurs. His eyes are sunken. He licks his lips.

~

“I would rather not kill Cleo, personally,” Etho says, because he’s still fresh and he doesn’t understand. He didn’t see the way she turned on Scott.

Gem nods. “Well, you have to participate in the next kill, for the curse to spread, so it’s your call.”

“Yeah, let’s go for Tango,” Etho decides, unsurprisingly.

She doesn’t mind. He’ll understand soon; he’s already clearing his throat.

~

Gem respawns in her cottage after a stray shot from Scar takes her last yellow hearts.

Scott’s there. He’s yellow, but still uninfected. The scent is maddening.

“How are you feeling?” Gem asks, her grip tightening on her sword.

He runs.

~

Wolves pour down the mountainside and sprint headlong into lava, all snapping jaws and burning fur. Their deaths bring Gem no satisfaction. Instead, she sets her sights on the life blood she can smell, sheltering behind the stone walls of the castle.

Her army has grown significantly. They swarm the castle almost like a single being, unified in mind and body. Not just by their shared task, but by their desperation to kill. To be sated.

“The curse feels so good,” Gem lies, as they close in on their next kill, “just let it take over!”

It’s Scar’s kill, in the end. She licks her lips.

~

Gem stands before the Secret Keeper.

She can feel the others’ eyes burning into the back of her skull. The resentment for bringing them to this point. Most have lost a life, and all have lost hearts. All this struggle just to fail at the end, when she could’ve spared them by failing at the start.

Despite her exhaustion, Gem keeps her shoulders back and chin up. She was given a nearly impossible task, and she nearly succeeded. She assembled an army and led it well. She doesn’t regret it. But privately, she’s glad it’s over.

“I failed!” Gem declares, hitting the button. 

This isn’t the first time she’s failed a task, but it’s the first time she’s failed as a red, and she isn’t prepared for what happens. The weight of the curse falls off her; body strengthening, mind sharpening. That much is back to normal.

But Gem is seized with horror as she finds that thirst, that hunger, that craving, is still there.

Martyn locks eyes with her from the assembled crowd. Martyn, the only person who was red without the curse. There’s understanding in his gaze, solemn and empathetic, and suddenly his eyes look more hollow than they used to.

And Gem realizes that while she might no longer be infected with the boogeyman curse, she’s still a red name, and there’s a reason they’ve always said the two things aren’t so different.

Her mouth is dry. She licks her lips.

~

[chuuyasfanboy]

HII!! Could you do one with Dazai, Chuuya and Atsushi reacting to a reader who has one of those SHTWT accounts? It's a kind of strange request, but I've never seen anyone talk about it!!

I actually loved your blog, I'm currently hooked! <3

NOT a weird request at all! I dont have any social medias like this, but I interact with edtwt and have friends with both edtwt's and shtwt's, so I think I'm comfortable enough talking about the issue!

Now this may be very hypocritical of me BUT IF YOU ARE STRUGGLING MENTALLY PLEASE REACH OUT FOR HELP! Here's a link to a website with hotline numbers! Even if you cant get yourself to stop completely, please at least be save enough to keep living. Love you all mwah<3

https://www.pleaselive.org/hotlines/

Definitely didn't skip a matchup request to write this... Promise I'll get to you soon other person! I've had some ideas in mind heheheh

Dazai, Chuuya, and Atsushi (Seperate) x shtwt!Reader

Tw: Sh tw, mentions of edtwt in the ooc lol, spoilers dazai totally has a shtwt too</3

Dazai Osamu

Starting off with the worst reaction

Why is he the worst, you ask?

He has one too!

He totally followed you by accident because he just found this all so inspirational. And then you posted a tweet with the same joke you'd made earlier that day.

And oh he knew.

He's mad, but mostly because you never told him you were struggling.

He's the one who's supposed to be masking his emotions, damn it!

(I'm not sure if shtwt is the same way, but i know edtwt is chock full of motivational disgusting food images posting! I'm making those assumptions that its similar lol)

He definitely tries to convince you to get help, and he feels really bad for not actually being that worried.

He trusts you to keep yourself safe enough and so eventually he just gives up on the notion altogether

It doesnt take long for the two of you to be a bit more open with it all

He finally shows you whats under those bandages

It's worse than you think.

You're the one who convinces him to properly treat his cuts, and after enough bothering, you finally let him treat you the same.

Late nights when the two of you cant sleep, and he comes over.

The both of you in each others arms, disinfectant and fresh rolls of bandages discarded on the nightstand

While he may not be the one you go to for support, he definitely wont judge you for anything, not even a bit

And if you do decide to finally get help, he's there to cheer you on

Dont be fooled though, he wont be changing his ways at all

Good luck getting this stinker to find value in himself!

Chuuya Nakahara

He's got the best reaction, by far

He's trying not to judge you, really

It's not something he's ever had to struggle with these things, and the furthest he can really give you is an absurd amount of sympathy

The little experience he does have comes from his years with Dazai in the port mafia, but that was a long time ago and he hasnt had to think of it since

It brings up old memories...

You'd left it open on a private tab one night, and he found it when you asked him to look up something

He's about ready to cry, really, but he's strong

For you

He encourages you to get help, professional help

And if you decline, he doesnt push it much further

Instead, he offers you help directly

He cofiscates your razors the best he can, but he soon finds you manage to get them anyway

So he comprimises

When you forget to clean them, he does it for you

Buys you disinfectant and fresh bandages every time he knows youre running low, keeps your first aid stocked

Things like that

He politely asks to not be shown any fresh wounds, twitter post or not, and does his best not to think about the fact you post these things so openly and he hadn't even known

If you do decide to seek help, he's the most supportive.

He keeps you on your recovery plan, holds you close if you relapse, and never passes a single word of judgement your way

He's here for you, always

Atsushi Nakajima

Akutagawa found it before he did

Atsushi was told, immediately

He PANICS, and as soon as he sees you he pulls you aside

And he just cries into your arms

You're left so confused like?

What????

He understands why you didnt tell him, and he doesnt blame you for it

But he's still pretty upset

Moreso with himself than you

Again, like the other two, you'd been posting pictures of it all online and he had to be told!

He insists you get help, and he wont let up on it

Reminds you every day after a nicely times good morning text

"If you're feeling down make sure you call somebody before you do anything, okay?"

He's practically on his hands and knees begging you to unfollow the shtwt's you've bombarded your feed with

Suddenly he's terrified of looking over your shoulder at your phone, but also so afraid every time he isnt

He's really not good at sorting it out, his brain is scrambled and he's panicked every time he thinks about it

But he really does try hard to stay positive

And while one or two things he says may unintentionally come off as judgement, a good majority of his opinions on the topic is really just trying to get you help

He makes an alt account just to keep tabs on your shtwt

Its really obvious, made a day ago and following only you

You don't tell him that though<3

[ronthedunedain]

Warning: Long post

Went through my Royal Roads list of webnovels that I liked and it's a sea of endless litRPG/prog trash. Trash I enjoy, but trash nevertheless.

A few standouts that were actually really good:

Palus Somni by Ohmwu

Name of the Rose, but set in a ruined world covered in Lovecraftian monsters. Prepare for the main cast to suffer. Very Bloodborne.

Every night when the sun sets the monstrous Gol, colossal beings with too many teeth, awaken and roam the marshlands. Only those with a faithful heart will be spared. Young acolyte Wille has never seen the walls fail, but when a fellow nun is murdered within their sanctum the very safety of the monastery is thrown into question. Did the Gol find a way to breach their defences, or is there a human traitor amongst them? The answer lies both far in the past and deep beneath the earth, through the maze of ancient catacombs.

SONG of EMBER by Saffron Honey

Don't let the description fool you, this is a doomed, tragic romance between a boy and a siren.

Legends of savage river-folk have been scoffed at for centuries in the valley below Sisters Mountain, but when a young fisherman named Ember sets out to trap a thief, he catches more than he bargained for; a strange acquaintanceship is struck, and when the creature requests his aid to unlock a hidden door in the mountainside, they find themselves trapped within the ruins of an ancient kingdom.

Violent Solutions by Sabaoth

Isekai, but starring an amoral Terminator stuck in a normal human body. Quite gruesome.

A discarded intelligent weapon is thrust into a strange world with little more than a body. The only people he finds shouldn't even be alive. They've been extinct for centuries, killed by their own warlike creations. Yet here they are, as if it never happened, living like they did in their distant past. Creators or not, they are similar enough to the warbreed for his purposes. They have knowledge and weapons that can be stolen or traded for. Their presence can be helpful, and if it isn't, they will be dealt with. They may be hardier than most, but like any human, they can die.

Wander West, in Shadow by CloverCloverClover

A travelogue set in a world where eldritch horrors lurk in abandoned farm houses.

A young wizard journeys west, through dark forests and dangerous lands, searching for something. Accompanied by a wild witch who has secrets of her own, they come across terrible creatures, hauntings, cursed villages, and memories from their past. Who else will they meet along their journey, and to find what he is looking for, how far will the wizard have to wander?

REND by Temple

Worm, but starring a psychopath who does the right things for the wrong reasons.

Erind Hartwell, a first-year law student with psychopathic tendencies and an obsessive compulsion to follow an arbitrary set of Rules, tries to live a normal life in a world where superhumans battle eldritch horrors invading minds. Society frowned on different, and she was content with playing along if the world didn't bother her. That was one of the many Rules she followed. Unfortunately, the world couldn't help but bother Erind's normal life. On the brink of death, an entity offered powers to save her. Left with no other choice, she accepted it, changing into a new form—the first of many that'll allow her to bother the world that bothered her.

[ultfan]

@chaosmultiverse sent in: Okay slightly inspired by that ask about Mikan, what are his thoughts on Makoto Naegi?

i've actually thought about this a lot! i mean, they're sort of weird mirrors of each other in a way. i think komaeda in a lot of ways is just an exaggerated version of naegi. don't get me wrong, there are also a lot of things entirely different about them, but given komaeda was supposed to make people think he was naegi at the start it makes sense they share a lot of qualities. naegi doesn't think all to highly of himself, he's humble and deems himself to be average. meanwhile komaeda has absolutely awful self esteem and plays down all of achievements. naegi is our little hope guy who has a lot of faith in his friends and wants to overcome despair. komaeda is a hope freak who encourages everyone to overcome despair and has a lot of faith in... not his friends, but their talents.

i think if komaeda and naegi ever interacted in a pre-despair world komaeda would have almost a similar way of looking at naegi as he does hinata at the start of dr2. something that annoyed me when komaeda met naegi in dr3 is how he was like "oh my god your luck is incredible... amazing... so much better than mine." i really don't think he would see another lucky student and think they were somehow more talented than him. komaeda is shown to have extreme faith in his luck. while he doesn't find it a very remarkable talent, and while he's tormented by this good/bad luck cycle, it is still his talent. he knows damn well he's lucky and that it is a "skill" of his. just a passive one.

i think komaeda would view naegi (pre-despair) as his equal. and frequently compare himself to him. they both got into the school by pure luck, they share a talent, they're unremarkable outside of being lucky, they both did their research before coming to the school. while komaeda would talk down to naegi (given he thinks they are the same, meaning naegi is trash like him... but better than the reserve course), i do think there is potential for komaeda to actually see him as a friend. komaeda could never truly think of the other shsl students as his friends, even if he may call them that he puts them up on too high of a pedestal. and he thinks reserve course students and people without special talents are trash. but naegi is exactly the same as he is.

i think it would make for a really interesting dynamic. maybe even a little wholesome, which is strange for komaeda. i would imagine it'd be basically the same as how he treats hinata at the start of dr2, minus the "oh wow you must have an amazing talent!" stuff. replace that with "well you're trash like me" comments.

i imagine komaeda actively watched the killing game broadcast. after all, these are symbols of hope fighting against enoshima's despair! she said that she made the killing game partially as a way to crush the hope of anyone still holding onto it. but komaeda is a special motherfucker who doesn't get his hopes crushed by just seeing symbols of hope die. because if they were killed off or got caught that just means that their hope wasn't strong enough. i imagine he was on the edge of his seat at every trial. he was probably thrilled after every execution, not because the killers died but because of the amazing hope to survive that everyone else had.

throughout dr1 naegi is the one making the final cases and piecing together the majority of the clues. even though komaeda probably solved the crimes way before he did, he probably got super excited every time someone pointed out something he noticed. the shsl students at their finest! it's very easy for me to see him becoming a bit of a naegi fanboy. i imagine he was devastated when he got falsely accused by that trial (since there's no way he would fall for the trick), but super pumped when the execution didn't go the way monokuma intended. and when naegi turned out to have actually survived and challenged monokuma to one last game? oh boy!

there is no way komaeda didn't become naegi's #1 fan. especially when the gang started calling him the shsl hope. komaeda has always wanted more than anything to see a hope that could conquer any despair. and as far as he is concerned, it seems that naegi has the potential to be that hope. after all, he killed junko. how could komaeda see him as anything other than the true embodiment of hope?

although komaeda deeply regretted not being able to experience junko's death in person. hence his whole plan in udg. we know that he believed in komaru solely because of her connection to naegi, but i do actually think he might've been fibbing a little bit on his reasoning. from dr2 we know his philosophy revolves around the idea that you can't become more than what you were born as. "a small dog can't become a big dog no matter how hard it tries."

i believe that he put komaru in the spotlight here as a way to draw naegi's attention. he knew the future foundation was working in the area. byakuya had been captured after all, but the key player he wanted hadn't been brought in. and he made a deal with fukawa to ensure komaru stays in the city and isn't able to escape.

he was trying to create a war, create a second junko, all so he could be there in person when hope rose up and overcame it all. i fully believe he wanted naegi to be that hope. i cannot see any other reason why he would be so keen on komaru specifically being the "hero" of this story even when she's an unremarkable person in his eyes. he's just a naegi fanboy! he wants to see his hope in person.

after the events of dr2 i imagine he keeps his naegi fanboy mindset. he is in awe of his hope. to him naegi is hope itself. the true embodiment of it. everything he could have ever wanted. that doesn't mean he wouldn't cause problems for naegi and the future foundation if he was able to (which, i doubt he'd have the opportunity but if he did... he would). komaeda wants them to rise up against any and all adversities, especially naegi. he wants that hope to grow and grow and become something no one has ever seen before.

i've mentioned before that post dr2 komaeda would probably have a very... half-assed hope that the remnant despairs would be able to also rise up and conquer despair. that he might still pull his admiration bullshit but it is very quickly dropped the second they do or say something even mildly against what he wants. i think that disingenuous attitude of his is because of naegi.

it is naegi's hope that the remnants would be able to become better people. that he could fix them. that they would be able to recover from all of this and move into the future. the whole point of the neo world program was to rehabilitate them. and even though it didn't go exactly to plan you can't say naegi didn't make huge progress. and he clearly hasn't given up on them. he actively supports the survivors in reawakening everyone and wishes the best for all of them.

with naegi being such a strong symbol of hope for komaeda, someone who has proven time and time again that he always overcomes the odds despite how low his chances are... komaeda really wants to see naegi's hope blossom. he doesn't want his friends to better themselves because he cares about them. he wants to see them embrace the potential they possess, the potential naegi sees in them (that komaeda thinks naegi sees in them). he wants them to move forward and embrace hope because that's what naegi was trying to get them to do.

i think komaeda to naegi is what the fandom thinks komaeda would be like to kamakura. he is obsessed with what he represents, in awe of him, desperate to see him at his full potential. naegi IS hope. and he fills that role just like komaeda would want him to. not to mention he's kind and humble... what a guy! so selfless! he is deeply in love with that man (in that weird komaeda hope-love way).

[ridefourth]

@deathweaved​

Familiarity does not make a home (he knows: years had made him familiar with the lower levels of the Undercity, with the cage he was kept in like an animal - and like an animal his former Ranger-General and queen meant to train him, an obedient weapon loyal to her alone). His loyalty would have been hers, without it, though Koltira cannot argue with himself she had been wholly wrong. Sylvanas may have been his leader in life, but Thassarian was a comrade, treasured even before they had been free to treasure anything. If it came to a choice, how could he not choose the one who chose to save him repeatedly?

Acherus feels familiar, in a different manner — a home you had not visited in many summers, a place that held memories both good and bad. Known, but not quite the same; yours, still, in a way it will inevitably always be.

It would not feel like home without Thassarian. He knows with a certainty unspoken, and it makes him feel foolish to have tried to believe the Undercity could be where he belonged. Whatever they had been in life, death made it meaningless. Brotherhood, Thassarian had once called it, though the word makes it no justice. It is a different kind of companionship; how could it not be? Death had forged it, rather than done it part.  

Others would have abandoned him to his luck, to rely on his strength alone, perhaps deservedly, in face of his repeated failure and display of weakness. Still, the elf knew that would never be true for Thassarian. He had saved him before, when it went against everything they were. The year had not abated the certainty Koltira possessed that he would be saved again, no matter how long the wait would be.

It had been long, indeed, and hard on him as well. His body no longer heals as it did in life, and though there had been enough care to keep him whole, plenty of marks were left behind. They are old things by now; he had been of little interest to the Banshee Queen after a while. They are new in the eyes of his companion, likely. But the words denounce his captivity left marks in Thassarian as well, less obvious at a glance. It is not your fault, he almost replies, though the words are less direct dismissal of the implication, more directly resolute in that there is nothing to absolve. "You were there in the end," He replies, gaze meeting the other undaunted, but never unforgiving. "As I always knew you would be."

"It is enough for me." He will not offer forgiveness where there is no cause for it to be requested, and regret is faced with similar denial. Koltira will have none of it; none, except for the very ending. How foolish indeed, to seek the path that put them at odds once more, when easily they could have remained together from the start. Softness has no place in his speech anymore, nor even his demeanor; yet there is undeniable fondness, that he can't quite care to hide after so long apart. "Yet I wouldn't be opposed to having you by my side once more, instead of across the field again."

At Andorhal Thassarian had still recognized every wound on Koltira’s form, at least those which were visible — familiar to him like his own. An old notch in his ear; the cut of a runeblade in his hand; innumerable others that he could count one by one all the same. They had not been parted long then. Maybe at the time he’d thought it to be, still unaccustomed to the absence of his friend at his side. He would learn. He would learn about absence. About how he would never grow accustomed to it, and the black gulf of guilt that settled in it, a gluttonous animal filling the space where Koltira should have been. It was not the first loss he had known, but from it there was no recourse, because he was not there, his eternal companion, Koltira, whose fate matched his own. Their names are Death, and so Death could not take him away.

But something else could. Did.

And as he looks upon him now, he sees innumerable wounds he cannot count, that he does not know. A strange pressure bears down on the inside of his ribs. It is an old friend: sorrow. Her twin, remorse, finds a home crawling up his throat. It was not in a death knight’s nature to become so mournful, so vulnerable, not when anger was far more becoming and just as potent in their hands. But he had been angry. Angry at Koltira’s captors, angry at every obstacle and political caveat and collar around his neck that kept him from taking his own action. Angry at himself. Now, laid bare to him, it all unwinds. There was no revenge to take, no will or justice to enact, none of any consequence above having Koltira here now, reaching out to him. Shame keeps him silent, if only for a few moments, but the shadows on his face (still so young, beneath the brands, beneath the rough beard — as young as the day he died, as gentle) say enough. What terrible things you have known. What I would not give to shoulder them for you.

But Koltira had always seen him. Had always known him, could strip away the steel. Even silence could not conceal his grief. It was something he had named in him the very day they met, in the bloodied woodland of Quel’thalas. Even when it had killed him. Because Koltira is a sentimental fool. Just like Thassarian.

So he knows, too, that he needn’t seek forgiveness. That doing so would violate what Koltira was already telling him, his voice tinged with something like affection: there is nothing to forgive. There never has been. We are bonded. Brotherhood… but not quite. Not really. He felt that for all the Ebon Blade. Koltira is something else. He wonders if he will get to know the new wounds. To count them, innumerable though they might be. Another thing you have overcome, Koltira.

“…I have no interest in leaving the Ebon Blade again, Koltira.” He wished he’d never had. What little good it had done. What paltry things he had gained, starker compared to what he had lost. The Alliance did not bring him his sister, and it certainly didn’t bring him camaraderie or fulfillment. And still…

“In leaving your side. If you will truly have me there once more.”

That was the important part.

[wixhing0nastar]

About the Yang Xiao Long Abuse post.

Something occurred to me; Qrow may have also contributed to the abuse.

Back in Volume 3, when Yang was framed by Emerald?

Qrow accused her of either lying or being crazy.

Yang sought one of her family figures for validation, and Qrow called her crazy.

Then Qrow told her that Raven didn't care for her.

Would what Qrow did be considered abusive as well?

There's a lot in Volume 4 I dislike, which is why its my least favorite volume, and the Patch Scenes were among them.

But I feel that the way Qrow treated Yang was also a factor in Yang's mental/emotional state.

Also, regarding Yang's prosthetic. It appears Tai had planned to "call in some favors, pull a few strings" in order to get Yang her new arm, which shows that while Tai is emotionally insensitive to a degree, he is still caring about others and willing to help.

Ruby did say that Taiyang does love them both and is overprotective.

But a person can be loving and yet at the same time emotionally harmful to a degree.

Its strange, given the character we see of Qrow and Tai in RWBY Chibi, both being loving family members.

How would you, if you could make suggestions to the writing team, made ideas on how to improve things in V4?

Beyond just Yang, it feels there was too much in need of a revision here or there.

So to start with the question about Qrow, those instances wouldn’t count as abuse. For something to be abuse there has to be a pattern of this stuff happening, so the single comment about the Vytal Festival isn’t abuse, just a really messed up thing to say to her.

As for the comment about Raven, while it’s a little too blunt, it’s not something she shouldn’t hear. Especially since Qrow gave her the information to find her and knows Yang’ll be meeting her in the near future and he wants to prepare her for that.

Like as much as she was saying she was just looking for answers, you know deep down she’d been hoping for years if she found her, Raven would care enough about her to take care of her and Ruby.

That being said, in V6 when Yang and Ruby find him passed out drunk, their reaction does indicate he was doing this regularly at some point in their lives and they know how to handle it… and taking care of a passed out drunk adult isn’t the job of a kid(s) and is also a form of parentification. So likely he contributed in some regard when Yang was younger.

However, Qrow acknowledges that he has an issue and does try (successfully!) to work on himself to be a better uncle/mentor both to Yang and Ruby but also their friends as well, which is important to acknowledge.

And yes, I never meant to imply Tai doesn’t love them both. He clearly does, it’s just that love alone isn’t enough when you’ve got a couple of very young grieving children at home, and then a traumatized teenager with fairly severe PTSD. (And tbh I wouldn’t ever put much weight into the characterization in RWBY “cake butler” Chibi, lol).

As for V4, I think that the biggest issue the volume had overall was that they were trying to follow too many different storylines in too many different locations. Like they had to balance:

RNJR + Qrow’s trip across Mistral

Weiss escaping from her father

Blake and the Faunus Civil War

Yang and her PTSD/Recovery

Introducing Oscar and all the world stuff that comes with the reincarnation story

Introducing Salem and Team WTCH

I’d suggest combining at least a couple of these earlier on to give themselves more breathing room. Tbh Yang’s entire recovery arc barely happened (it was like three, 5ish minute scenes across the whole volume, which was also almost every scene she had) and Weiss’s arc was also fairly short and a bit underwhelming for how much it was built up, so I’d try to fold them into other storylines.

Honestly, I’d specifically suggest combining Yang and Oscar’s stories (they both are dealing with huge, unexpected changes in their lives they don’t know how to navigate) and Blake and Weiss’s (Weiss could go through a very similar emotional journey as she did in canon but from the opposite side by witnessing how Ghira and Kali treat her and Blake compared to her father), with Yang and Oscar catching up to RNJR at some point in the later part of the volume.

If they specifically wanted to write Tai as a good parent now (while also not retconning anything from V1-V3), one of the first things he’d need to do is admit that he was in the wrong in the past (like Qrow did in V7) and was not there for her. And then make it clear he is now and then ask after and follow her lead in terms of what she needs to heal instead of assuming he knows best.

[thewolfisawake]

Ceilidh, what is your relation with the other gentry? What do you think of the other fae belonging to the Empress?

"The condensed version, I can work for them but many do not find my job necessary," she prefaced, "as for my thoughts, I feel the Court is bloated wit those of self-importance with far too few that do anything of benefit to the Seelie itself or their fellow fae. But no, that isn't what you mean, correct? Fine, I will tell but it is rather dull."

"The one I know the longest by virtue of how aging is would be young Lord Allanach, Ruaidhri. We are of differing attitudes with people. As in he loves and is invigorated by them. I am not. I believe so long as it is of interest to him, the young lord very much proves the lineage he is from. There is reason that farce of a sparring session is well-remembered. I believe if anyone dared to challenge him, the young lore could and would rise to the occasion. And his pride (or is it perfectionism?) would not allow it be half done. But he's built such a reputation that is both a boon and a detriment in that he cannot so easily escape it. Not that he likely wants to."

"Then there is the young Lady Deòireach, Eilidh. She has always been regarded as 'strange' even within the Court. But she has raw charisma that is unmatched. by anyone within our age that makes anyone swoon or be disarmed. Couple with her wiles, the lady would be a femme fatale. I envy her and avoid her company as a result. I may be the background sort but I do still maintain a pride to veil my misery."

"Let's see...there is young Lord Murdoc, Aodh. I dare believe he is one the only ones besides myself that has little qualm with his future role. Which is alarming when you consider how many there are. Strange of me to say but I feel I understand his circumstances the most. I pity him to some extent though that is tempered with dealing with his disrespect. So I await whenever he returns to Court. If he ever does."

"I believe Lord Mèinnearach needs no introductions. He is whom I have seen more often in a professional capacity, ironically enough. We are polar opposites in every respect and I maintain pleasantry. I have a respect for him to unabashedly act for himself regardless of consequences. Good and bad. I just wish he would find better locales for his conquests."

"I don't have much to say about Lord Oireachtaigh. He shows up and he does what he must and leaves. We're similar in that respect. Although I do worry about what he must have seen to make him as reclusive as he is. I remember him before and he used to be much more like Lord Mèinnearach. But also seems to so much more serious about his position and has actually gotten my name down? He is odd but mainly in reconciling who I remember and who he is."

"And while she is royalty than nobility, there is Princess Tara. I have observed her much the same as His Majesty. She was one of the times I attempted reaching out a bit more. Usually in the form of dropping books off with different bookmarks I made or, if the guards or minders minded, treats I made. Admittedly, it was probably a bit naive or vague but loss is not quite common and I...don't know what to do in this situation. But I just wanted to try because it is lonely. Her Highness has moved on as best as she is able."

"Phew, now when it comes to the court of the Novian Empire...well, I am far less familiar with their workings. Although I am to be acquainted with them soon. From what I can tell though...the Empress and her advisors are quite like His Majesty and his Court. They seem quite different from the air that their Empress gives off. Some for the better. Some for the worse."

"However...from my outside perspective, there is a...lack of camaraderie between them? Of course things would be different in every land but considering how long and how intimately they work, I was expecting something else. Of course not that there isn't anyone that has any concern? Care? I did notice that for Commander Ardell. And of course towards the Empress herself. I would say they are more organized and of course, quite beautiful. I cannot say much more than my observations for now since I did end up occupied during the revel and could not meet most personally."

[tempestaslokni]

Sarcasm was a familiar friend to Lokni- reminded him of being on the job and hearing his coworkers banter back and forth. So, hearing it from Tej made Lokni's heart ache for home, just a bit. Nevertheless, he laughed at Tej's deadpan replies, opting to switch gears and focus on the appearance factor that Tej was using to describe this 'survivalist.' "Can't say that I've run into anyone that looks like what you're describing. Not yet at least. That show rings a bell though, my mother watches it. I never sat down to watch it with her though. I didn't realize that actors and celebrities were getting pulled into this shit as well." Momentarily stunned, Lokni listened intently to Tej's retelling of what harrowing events had happened at the bridge. When he finished, Lokni let out a low whistle, "good to see that you're still in one piece. I'll be sure to thank them if I come across 'em. A whole lotta' people on this island, and more coming in occassionally. Strange that even after we came to on the ship, new people still trickle in every now and then." The inconsistencies of the island really irritated Lokni. There were too many damn variables to get a straight read on things. As Tej explained about the antenna, the gears in Lokni's head slowly creaked into motion. Someone may come looking for that. Especially if it was a vital piece to their coms system or something. "If you find anyone let me know. I'd like to give 'em a piece of my mind, maybe even a boot up the ass depending on how long it takes them to show their gutless faces." A mysterious, almost imperceptible smile flickered across Tej's lips, but Lokni couldn't really get a read on exactly why. 'I was ready to get out' Lokni turned Tej's words over in his head pensively. A chord of similarity had been struck, and Lokni felt that he could see Tej a little more cleary. Just a little. Lokni, himself, had felt similarly. Wanderlust followed Lokni like a reoccurring dream; a constant reminder of what could have been, if he had just been better. Choosing his words with hesitation, Lokni said, "I can kinda' understand where you're coming from. The reservation that I was born on was small, lacked infrastructure, had a real' bad heroin problem for some time. Probably still does, I haven't been back to check. For fifteen empty years, I walked the dusty dirt roads of that rez until we were able to move out to Oregon. We had to give up the only community that we had ever known, but it was a chance at a better life. We both needed it. We don't do too badly nowadays, but there're still many places in the world that I'd like to see before I'm six feet under." Lokni turned to look out over the overgrown jungle that stretched out before them, "this wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Given a choice, I would've liked to start with Mongolia." Lokni did his best to hide his amusement at Tej's question about the meaning of Chenoa's name. "There's a lot of confusion around that name, whether it means one thing or another, but actually I just named her after the river where I found her. There was a pretty big river that ran through the plains, had no official name but was colloquially called 'the Chenoa River.' Lucky that I found her when I did, or else I might've never met one of my closest friends. Great listeners, horses." Joking was never something that came naturally to Lokni, and yet there he was making jests and laughing at Tej's in turn. This guy was fun to be around, even if he mainly spoke in shades of sarcasm. Strangely enough, things were going well, that is until Tej raised a hand- was he- no it couldn't be- was he controlling the light? The next thing that Lokni knew was white hot pain as concentrated light roasted his retinas. He yelled out in pain, stumbling backward, his back smacking into the solid wall of the tower. He groaned, clutching his head as searing hot pain still coarsed through his eyes.

Lokni looked seriously sincere. Perhaps he'd turn out to be. Actions spoke louder than words. In the meantime, Tej had few choices regarding a gnaw of hunger in his stomach that grew more persistent as the day went on.

"Yeah. Well," maybe survivalist painted Alex in a light which wasn't wholly accurate. "They were on a show. Hosted the show. We The Survivors." Hey, they knew more than Tej, which didn't say much. Regardless... He eyed Lokni. “Shorter than us. Has short dark hair, curly.” Features that even at rest seemed keen for something unnamed. Not a thing Tej could put his finger on. One shoulder shrugged. “Like you said, probably would remember that one.” 

Lokni’s other question was curious. "What do you mean-- what kind of person?" His chin dropped and voice set to deadpan. "Does Alex like pina coladas? Getting caught in the rain?" A beat, an aloof shake of the head. "Dunno." He assumed Lokni meant: could they trust them? The meeting with Alex had been traumatic, to say the least. Not much time to suss the other out. Although Tej did recognize the expensive taste in clothing (the jeans in particular).

"We were crossing a bridge together and the whole thing collapsed." Tej pointed off in a vague direction of the catastrophe. "Guess I'd be a goner without them." The malfunctioning compass spun distressingly fast until it became a blur. Found that way, but Lokni kept it anyway. Seemed to Tej the island was broken, not the needle.

"I'm wondering if someone can identify it. What type of antennae. What it can transmit. And how far it can transmit." He looked up as if to will more broken shards of metal to rain from the sky. "Yeah, with this piece broken off, maybe the whole thing is down. Cameras too. If that's the case, then we'll have someone's attention soon enough, yeah? 'Bout time we find out who's watching."

Lokni's impression of Seattle got a pleasant disagreement out of Tej in the form of a small smile. A little too busy. If anything, the city felt dwarfed by everything around. "I didn't mind growing up there, but I was ready to get out too." Death, a veil like the dreary drizzle the city was known for. How foolish, to think it was possible to escape.

Chenoa. Lokni spoke proudly about the horse. "I've never been around them." Not really, but one time when he was high hardly counted. And no, he wouldn't argue animals being smarter than people thing. "What does Chenoa mean?"

They both stepped back to regard the blinking light. As much as one could, as the intensity kept Tej from looking directly into it. A rhythm began, not one he recognized immediately.

Tej lifted a hand to block the light-- and the brightness was instantly snuffed. Again, like the flick of a switch. He dropped his hand and snap! the light popped on once more.

But it wasn't him. His gut turned to stone. No, no it couldn't be him. (It was. It was him.) "Erm." Tej raised a palm, and darkness obeyed to swallow the light. And when his hand lowered the next time, the most brilliant sunlight arced towards the ground. A hot flare that was aimed at only one of them: Lokni.

[nevergeneralize]

Albert knitting is such a good detail!!

A) It’s a little bizarre and quirky, which makes it great already, but also

B) I like it when the men of Team Moriarty are given domestic/traditionally-feminine traits/hobbies (even the profiles telling us about Patterson caring about skincare and thus being assigned an overwhelming beauty routine delights me so much)

C) James Moriarty is “like a spider,” per The Final Problem:

“He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson. He is the organizer of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city. He is a genius, a philosopher, an abstract thinker. He has a brain of the first order. He sits motionless, like a spider in the center of its web, but that web has a thousand radiations, and he knows well every quiver of each of them. He does little himself. He only plans.”

Knitting isn’t exactly weaving but it’s similar enough if you squint, so Albert has a spider-ish hobby appropriate to being 1/3 of James Moriarty, that’s fun!

D) He uses his talents for textile creation to needle (get it????) Moran, and this is the noblest art

E) He’s bad at it and he knows that but he’s doing it anyway and that’s basically therapy for Albert!!! Overcoming perfectionism and learning to be proud of the things he does/makes is so healthy we love to see it!!! (I know this omake is perhaps more of a throwaway joke than serious character exploration but I’m choosing to read into the fact that) He apologizes or feels guilty or unworthy constantly, but he’s absolutely not apologizing for these strange, ugly sweaters

Look how pleased he is, hush Moran!! We’re so proud of him for being proud of himself! You really did outdo yourself this time, Albert!!!

Interesting that we get some of the same energy here, in the actual manga, with regard to his (also evidently pretty bad?) cooking:

Fifty chapters later and he’s back at it, practicing being bad at hobbies, eagerly sharing the imperfect fruits of his labor with his loved ones! That is genuinely hard emotional work and he really should be smug about it! Go Albert go!!!

I say “eagerly” but both scenes could also be read as sort of sarcastic; maybe he’s more proud of inflicting his hilarious knitting/cooking failure on his family than proud of each outcome as a creative achievement, but I think that’s still pretty cool? I’m no psychologist but I think if Albert ends up doing what is essentially CBT for OCPD just for the lulz/because he’s trolling Moran, that is A) hilarious, and B) still making him Do The Thing and probably is accidentally great for him. “Acting as if” is a real strategy of modern behavioral psychology used for managing anxiety, low self-worth, etc: the idea is to act as if you are proud of your creative output and eventually you can learn to actually feel that pride. And anyway, sharing amateurish creative work is pretty vulnerable, especially when you can see its amateurishness for yourself; Albert being willing to make a joke out of failing to do something to an ideal standard still seems like a very significant step beyond his usual abjection in the face of imperfection. Basically this is great for him any way you look at it. Keep knitting badly, Albert!!!

(Oddly when I looked up “acting as if” to make sure I had the name of the CBT skill right, I learned that CBT owes much to William James, one of the founders of modern psychology. Also lots of results citing Alfred Adler. This was a slightly confusing search-result-skimming process.)

[wallflowerimagines]

Hi! I looove your posts! Thank you so much for sharing your writing!

I was wondering… could you maybe write about the Four Lords with a shy S/O that gets bold and defensive when someone insults the lords? or calls them names? And the Lord’s reaction to the S/O acting different? Dk if im explaining myself >.<

Again! Love your work! Have a great day!

We stan protective partners on this blog!!

Warnings: uh...insults? They're pretty over the top😅 Also swearing.

Alcina Dimitrescu

Honestly, Alcina is more than able to defend herself.

She's got a tongue like a viper, and the thickest skin imaginable. If you really want to hurt her feelings, you have to be someone whom she already respects to a certain degree, or she won't even be phased.

Still, when she leaves a room, there's always some idiot that thinks it's a smart idea to talk shit.

Maybe it's a maid, maybe it's a guest in the Castle, but either way you're not having it.

"God, you're annoying." There was a pause before they opened their mouth again, and you rolled your eyes. "No please, by all means, continue to share your lack of taste with the rest of us."

You disassemble this dumbass, starting small with comments about their personality (trying to keep it classy), but escalating the more they choose to double down on the comments.

Alcina comes back into the room to find you practically screaming at this asshole.

"Look, all you have accomplished here today is revealing that you are a fundamental disappointment on every possible level. My life is worse now that I've heard you open your mouth, you disrespectful, shit licking worm fucker."

Alcina is stunned. You do not give off "aggressive guard dog" vibes at all, yet here you are defending her tooth and nail. While she had seen brief moments of your inner strength and protective streak (mostly towards her daughters) she just...never thought you would do the same for her.

It's not because she doesn't trust you or love you! But nobody has ever done something like this for her before? Ever? She's never had anyone try to protect her--not physically, and not even verbally. She's been so independent for so long that it's... Strange to see you support her so openly.

She doesn't need you to do this for her, she doesn't even expect it, but you do it anyway for no other reason than the fact that you love her. You want people to give her the respect she deserves.

I'm going to be real here: Alcina has never been closer to swooning before in her life. You're overcoming your shyness because you believe in her so much-- it's not a gesture meant to be romantic, but Alcina can't help but see this as a massive statement of your commitment to her.

Seriously. This is such a massive thing for her that if proposals weren't already on her mind, she is mentally picking out a ring for you the minute this happens.

Then, of course, she glides into the room, kisses you until you're breathless and babbling, and smirks at the unfortunate peon who thought they could get away with insulting House Dimitrescu.

She's in such a good mood that she's considering going easy on the idiot. Maybe removing their tongue would be enough of a warning?

Donna Dimitrescu

You don't really know how it's possible but apparently some people don't like Donna Beneviento? Some people think she's scary and unpleasant????

Wild. Can't imagine what that's like.

The two of you are honestly the sweetest, most toothrottingly adorable couple-- blushing when you hold each other's hands, sneaking glances at each other across rooms, giving each other kisses and forgetting whatever was on your mind...

Honestly, anybody who's critical of your relationship with your girlfriend is just a hater. Fuckers can pound sand😤

Still, you are pretty shy, so it takes a lot for you to defend yourself if someone comments about you. It can take a lot of courage to stand up against rude remarks, and sometimes it's easier to walk away.

Defending Donna, on the other hand?

The minute someone even thinks about dismissing her, you are ready to throw hands.

"My lovely girlfriend already said no, meaning you're either deaf or too stupid to pick up on simple social cues," you purse your lips and give the rude and pushy Villager a patronizing once over. "You and your opinion are equally useless. Get the fuck away from us."

Donna blinks.

She... Was not expecting this??? At all?? You're so nice! You always tell her about your attempts to avoid confrontation! What's going on??? How did you get the guts to say what she's always wanted to say?

Meanwhile, Angie is LIVING.

The little doll chimes in to assist you with the verbal homicide, working as a tag team to absolutely murder this moron. She's half partner, half hype man, and is so excited to do this with you. Normally, she has to protect Donna all by herself, but she's relieved and reassured that you stepped in first.

'USELESS IS TOO NICE, THOUGH! THAT IMPLIES THEY AREN'T A POINTLESS, RANCID, LONELY FREAK. THEY LOOK LIKE THEY CRY WHEN THEY MASTURBATE.'

You high five Angie, still glaring daggers at the unfortunate villager.

The two of you continue to ream into the villager, while Donna hovers nearby.

As surprised as she is, she's also grateful. She's only really ever had Angie to help shield her from insults and disrespect (and occasionally inducing horrifying hallucinations that make people claw off their own skin), but having you in her corner makes her feel safe.

Not to get totally sappy, but you're like her knight in shining armor in a lot of ways. And the fact you two are so similar is really motivating-- She wants to one day be confident enough to return the favor. Until then, she's happy to watch her two favorite people have fun insulting some stranger ❤️

Salvatore Moreau

With you being so shy, Salvatore is surprised how often he takes the lead in your relationship.

He's not normally all that outgoing, but you seem to bring out a side of him that's very protective. Whenever you have a bad day he wants to bundle you up and keep you safe from the world.

If he so much as holds your hand you start stuttering and avert your gaze. It creates a feedback loop where you both get flustered, but Moreau has never felt steadier. Despite your shyness, you make sure he knows how much you love him.

You're sweet as pie and twice as kind--Salvatore is the luckiest man in the world, nobody can convince him otherwise 💕💕

So it comes as a total shock that when a passing fisherman spits in your path and calls him a freak, your entire demeanor does a 180.

Your posture straightens and you look the villager dead in the eye, "I don't believe anyone asked your opinion."

Salvatore: 😳

This is not the time, and he totally knows it, but, uh, something about your tone??? Really does it for him???

While he's attempting to process why exactly he's starting to short circuit, you proceed to verbally shred this person to bits with clinical efficiency-- nothing is off limits.

They might try to defend themselves, but it's useless. You do not let up.

"Ugly? Monster? Bitch your teeth are throwing gang signs, don't throw stones from your shining glass house."

You insult their appearance, what they're holding, their smell-- you get so fucking mean that you might even make them cry.

Moreau is just lost right now, trying hard to figure out how exactly you were able to gain all of this confidence so quickly.

He's not upset! In fact he's very flattered! But, he also doesn't want you to get into a fight with some unimportant stranger. (After all, if they so much as throw a punch, they're straight up dead. Moreau is a patient man, but he's not that patient. You do not hurt his partner and live to tell the tale.)

He may a healer but...

Eventually he steps between you and the fisherman in an attempt to deescalate the situation, but you just kiss him on the cheek and step around him, determined to make your point.

Blushing hard, Moreau lets you do what you want. What can he say? Fish man likes himself a protective partner 💞

Karl Heisenberg

Magnet Man is not the most social guy to begin with, so any opportunities you have to stick up for him are already pretty slim.

He mostly knows you as the shy, sweet, easily flustered partner that lets out a cute squeak every time he sneaks up to hug you from behind.

Karl's honestly happy just to spend time with you all alone in the Factory. It's not the best or healthiest mindset, but he'd be perfectly content to only ever see you for the rest of his life. Spending time with anybody else feels like a boring waste in comparison.

But occasionally, you do head out into town with him. Heisenberg wants you to be safe so he doesn't do it often, but running errands with you is a weakness of his. It's domestic in a way that he's never experienced before.

He likes it ❤️

What he does not like is the shopkeeper starting to give their opinions on the quality of your relationship with him.

Most insults Karl will let slide because he doesn't particularly care. However if anyone makes a comment on how scared (shy) you look around him, how you must be being threatened into being with him, how poorly Lord Heisenberg is treating you...he won't stand for it.

But before his fingers can even twitch towards his hammer, you snap.

"You're clearly the blindest cocksucker I've ever met--so wipe the cum out of eyes and mind your own fucking business."

Karl does a double take.

He's heard you curse before, but quietly. The words coming out of your mouth are WILD right now, he has NEVER seen you so angry. You're defending him with the aggression of a wild animal, and it's simultaneously HILARIOUS, but for some reason he's also getting a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest?

He doesn't need you to protect him like this, but seeing you blatantly argue how much you love and cherish him in public reassures him in a way he didn't know he needed.

Still, hearing you call the shopkeeper "shit for brains" is the funniest thing that's happened in years.

Heisenberg starts laughing, and the more you shout at the idiot, the harder he laughs. Is it weird how hard he wants to kiss you right now?

Eventually, he just has to drag you away, cackling as you continue to shout insults at the unfortunate shopkeep. There's got to be an alley around here for some good old fashioned privacy 💕

[widow-maximov]

Whole again

Pairing: Wanda x Fem Reader, Natasha x Fem Reader

Warning: Language, angst, fluff

Summary: Y/n never had an easy life in every aspect of life, finding love again but being betrayed is the worse feeling...

Word count: 4.7K

Tag-list: @diaryoflife

(If you want to join my tag list, click here and enjoy my future posts :3)

⸻⸻⋙🗲⋘⸻⸻

Life couldn't be better at the moment, in your whole life you have always been pushed, not only by the Avengers but by your parents are well.

They always wanted the best for you and you did the best you could but it never was enough so you simply moved away from them when you turned 18, it was hard living alone, working somewhere that only paid for your rent and bills but never left you enough for food.

When you joined the Avengers, you instantly felt the difference here, food was always here and you never had to worry about not having enough. Everyone was accepting, especially Wanda.

The two of you got along quite quickly, she shared some interest you did and visa versa.

It was perfect, she always listened to you and reassured you that you always did your best, it was amazing being with Wanda. You felt safe around her and she always held you with so much love that it made you feel useful.

You loved her and each day spent with her, made you fall for the witch deeper, little did you know she did as well. She loved listening to you talk about your childhood, and how bravely you would overcome struggles.

She loved everything about you, from the way you would stick your tongue out when you couldn't get something right to little snorting that came out when you were very tired.

She adored you in secret and you did the same, you were always amazed by her powers, the way she would always find new ways to improve them or find out more about them. The way she would pay to every detail of every mission you told her.

The questioning that followed after, made your heart melt at how much she cared. She always wanted to be near you and hold you tight in her arms, this only worsen when the two of you have gotten together.

The dates would be amazing, she was really romantic and you would be hopelessly in love with everything she did for you. You would shower her with gifts and always be there for her whenever she had a rough night.

For some people being with one person for a long time is boring but for you it wasn't. You felt that you were always learning new things about Wanda, from the way she would tilt her head to the side slightly when you made a teasing comment.

~~~~~

Sitting in a meeting full with your teammates and unable to contain your desires is the worse feeling. Your powers are similar to Wanda's but only with the telekinesis part, the rest you just have to reply on your fighting skills.

You looked over to Wanda who was opposite you, she was too focused on what the meeting was about, rather than looking at you. You looked down at the papers in front of you and smirked, as you gotten inside her head and spoke.

"Would you like to do this?" You asked as you showed her an image of Wanda being pressed against the wall and your face pressed against her core.

She looked at you as soon as that image disappeared with wide eyes "or this?" You showed her another image, a lot more filthier than the one before.

When she came out of it, you could sense the confusion and the lust coming off her "We are in the middle of a meeting!" Her voice found itself in your head.

You smirked slightly at her and spoke back "So?"

"So? How can you expect me to concentrate on what they are talking about"

The way your eyes darken as you looked at her lips "I don't, I want you to focus on me and the way you'll be a mess after"

Her head tilted to the side with a small smirk across her face as she looked away from you and at the person who was at the front. You looked around and no one even noticed that the two of you had a whole ass conversation in your head.

~~~~~

To the way she would hide her face in the crook of your neck when she was embarrassed.

~~~~~

It has been a month since Wanda went on a mission, she was suppose to come back today, they were on a stake out to watch a hydra base, it was a successful mission but the only drawback was the fact that she was away for so long.

You kept yourself occupied and that was mainly with missions that required a lot of brainstorming, so when you heard that Wanda was coming back, you decided to prepare something for her.

You prepared everything for a warm bath and even went out of the way to get her favourite chocolate that she always loves to eat, along with that, nice dinner so after she is done she can eat proper food.

You sent her a message saying to shower and meet you in the room the both of you accidently found, that practically no one visited, obviously there was a little note with your clothes that she always loved wearing.

She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in your arms, but agreed to your message because it doesn't matter where she falls asleep as long as it is next to you she was more than happy.

When she walked in to all of the things you did for her, she was blooming with happiness, she held her hands close to her chest as a smile spread across her. She went through everything you listed in the note, and when she made it to the room, it was something she wouldn't expect.

You might not have been the best at showing your love but you learnt and tried your best, so you stood there with everything prepared for her and the way her heart would beat so fast just at the sight of you surrounded by the little lights.

She walked over to you as she took a proper look this time at the things inside, you smiled as you opened your arms for her and she took the hug without hesitation, she pulled away and without letting you say anything, she kissed you.

At the contact of your lips, a small moan escaped her mouth, causing you to raise your eyebrows at her and pulling away "Did you just... moan?"

Her cheeks turned a red colour so fast, she manged to giggle and hide her face in the crook of your neck "Shut up, it has been a month.."

You laughed and smiled as you tighten your embrace around her and allowed yourself to enjoy this.

~~~~~

But that all changed.. The day Vision was introduced to the team, he was connected to her by the stone the way you would never be connected, the way she would always spend her time with him instead of you.

The way she would listen to his story and never ask about yours, always avoiding you and your way of showing her your love, she would scold you for touching her, even if that was simply walking past her and your shoulders would brush.

It was difficult keeping this from the team, they loved you, like literally adored you, you always were the one to check up on everyone who went out on a mission. If anyone was injured even a little scratch you would always offer to help them in any way they want.

Everyone appreciated you and when they found out you found someone who claimed to love you in a different way they did... They were excited and happy for you, which meant they would always be up your business and Wanda's.

They grown to love Wanda as well, she was harmless and shy but you wouldn't want to be on her bad side, though some don't really care whether she was powerful, they would easily knock her out.

Today was movie night, the whole team sat on the huge couch Natasha on your left whilst your right side was empty, that would be Wanda's side, she wasn't here which didn't really concern you.

She was always late or sometimes didn't come but she promised to be here with you today, yet she wasn't coming. There was a gut feeling that something wasn't right yet you couldn't just walk out as Tony wanted to show you some things during this time so you stayed.

You tried your best to pay attention but it failed so when the movie was over, you stood up quickly and made your way to find Wanda, you rounded the corner and when you gotten closer to your shared bedroom, the noises only gotten louder you gulped as you opened the door carefully.

It was like a horror movie, you opening the door as if there would be a monster behind it, but this was much worse than any monster. If heartbreak had a sound, you would be definitely heard. You stood there taking in what is in front of you, Wanda and Vision in the bed you shared with Wanda before.

He was on top of her and she was a mess riddled with pleasure, it doesn't take any idiot to understand what they were doing, with so much pain in your heart, you walked out of that room and walked back to your room.

The stiffness in your walking was obvious that you was hurt, that's how anyone who knew you for a long time would know you were hurt. You knew this was the end of your relationship with Wanda..

The worse part is that this has happened before, not with Wanda but with someone else you dated, Wanda promised you that she would never do anything like that when you opened up to her.

You yet again failed your own promise, the promise that you would never let anyone in but yet that witch did something to you and you fell for her.

And here you are, sitting against the door as you muffle your sobs with your hands, you were so glad to have picked a room far away from the others so no one could hear you.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

You seemed to create a schedule to be out of the way of everyone, making sure no one saw you or even tried to bother you but you did clash with someone eventually and the way you would pretend, made no one question if you were hurt or not.

No one would notice, they just thought it was you being you. Good that you had a habit of avoiding people from time to time when things were overwhelming so no one questioned it.

You thought no one noticed your strange behaviour but you were wrong, Natasha did. She was a spy after all so analysing people was like walking, easy and smooth and she gotten so used to it she forgets she even does it.

She caught on the times you went to the gym where you would spend all of your day, you would avoid everyone including Wanda. You didn't even know she was on a mission for 6 months so your avoiding was pointless, she wouldn't even notice your absence.

You was in the gym, assaulting the punching bag as if it took everything away from you. You punched it with so much energy, you were kind of surprised it didn't come off the ceiling.

Natasha stood there, staring at you as you threw such powerful punches. It was odd how you looked so emotionless when you would practically made the bag look so weak. She did what she thought would make you talk, she walked over as she made herself known with her clearing her throat.

Your looked over your shoulder and relaxed when you noticed it was Natasha "Sorry, did you book today? I thought it was clear for today"

She shook her head as she walked closer towards you "No I didn’t, usually it’s empty..- Actually do you want to spar with me?"

You faced her now as you took a sip of your water and nodded, usually you would just be here alone and no one bothered you but since she was already here, you might as well, the two of you made it inside the ring and took your poses, she was rested and less of a mess than you, you was exhausted from no sleep and constant nightmares so you were no match for her.

With one move, you was down as she pinned you down and hovered above you, you tried with every strength in your body to move from her grip but you had no chance.

"What happened Y/n?" She asked with seriousness in her tone.

You tried your luck again to free yourself "Nothing"

"I can get Wanda to do this for me" She bluntly spoke as she watched your reaction.

Your eyes widen at her words "No, I don't want her here"

Natasha let you go as she sat down next to you but you just laid there, you knew she will question to why suddenly you don't want to be around the witch.

"Why?" Was the only word that came out from the Russian.

You shook your head as you tried to erase the embedded scene "No"

Natasha narrowed her eyes at you "What do you mean no? Why can't Wanda be here Y/n?"

You covered your face with your hand as you took a deep breath, feeling the tears form in your eyes "She cheated"

Natasha's eyes widen at your words, the feeling of range building up, she knew Wanda was suppose to go on a mission today so she will be able to catch her "With who?"

"Vision" You managed to choke out as sobs were threatening to spill out of your mouth.

Natasha felt so angry, the fact that Wanda was capable of doing something so horrible to you and she was so close to getting up and making sure that Wanda gets knocked into the next universe for what she did but when a sob came out of your mouth, she was quick to forget what she would do but quickly pulled herself near you and held you as you cried in her shoulder.

Natasha was your true friend but for Natasha you was more than a friend for her. She was deeply in love with you and when she heard that you are dating Wanda, she was heart broken. She started to slowly distance herself and hoped you would notice but Wanda was occupying your head for you to even notice Natasha missing, well at least that what the redhead thought.

She loved everything about you, from the way your eyes would sparkle at the mention of a new movie that was coming out to how you would drink too much and sing bunch of songs that didn't even make sense.

She loved you but you never felt the same even if she could swear to herself that you did feel something for her but she convinced herself she was just seeing things, she wanted to believe that you would fall for her the way she fell for you but that didn't happen so she had to live with herself and these feelings.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

She took you to your room so you could rest and made her way towards Wanda, she was in your old bedroom acting as if nothing happened, she didn't even care that you wasn't here, actually she was happy you didn't bother her.

Natasha marched inside as she could feel her anger boiling over, and when her gaze met Wanda's she couldn't control herself "What the fuck is wrong with you!"

The way Wanda's eyebrows raised as if she didn't know what the Russian was talking about "Are you okay Natasha?"

"You try to seem so innocent and shy but you are a fucking liar and the worst person in the planet!" Natasha raised her voice as she pointed towards Wanda.

She stood up as she looked at the spy with shock "What the hell are talking about!"

Natasha scoffed "Please, keep pretending but I know what you did with Vision"

The Sokovian's face fell as she heard those words "What do you know?"

The Russian rolled her eyes at the witch "How much you fucked up the only good thing you had in your pathetic life"

"You can't tell Y/n.."

The redheads eye's narrowed "She already knows.."

The gasp wasn't a shocked one but more of a surprised one, why didn't you say anything? She had to find out, so she did what was on her mind but Natasha moved in her direction.

"You won't disturb her, you will go on your mission and leave Y/n alone"

Just as Wanda was going to protest, she was alerted that she had to go, she was the only way this mission would be successful. She barged past Natasha as she left for the mission, in hopes that when she comes back, she will finally talk to you about the subject she should've voiced way before.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

The past 2 months have been hard on you, you tried to not drag Natasha into this but she was there regardless of your attempts. You even somehow ended up sleeping in her room because your nightmares have gotten worse, she reassured you that you were safe.

~~~~~

Natasha couldn't sleep, she decided to go through some work reports, hoping that will make her somehow sleepy and she would be able to finally get some rest.

Her eyes darted up at you and her expression softened at you and the way you was snoring, you passed out on the couch watching a movie so Natasha took you into her room and tucked you into her bed, she decided to grab bottle of water and some more files.

When she walked out, as if her present kept you at bay, your nightmares started to wake you up, the second they got heavy you jumped up so still as your eyes went wide, looking ahead of you slowly registering where you are.

Natasha walked through the door with everything but when she noticed the fear in your eyes, she rushed to you and at her touch you relaxed, the way her strong arms held you as you hugged into her, your breath steadied as Natasha rubbed your back in soothing motions.

Your head rested on her shoulder and wiped the fallen tear from your face, there was silence, for Natasha it was comfortable silence but for you it was embarrassing, she had to witness you in this state.

You unglued yourself from her as you covered your face "I'm sorry you had to witness that"

She shook her head as she gently grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face "You have nothing to be sorry for, красивая (beautiful). This is a normal thing that people experience so don't be sorry"

You looked at her as tears filled your eyes and with a sad smile you spoke "Well then I'm glad it's you who is by my side through this"

Natasha smiled as she pulled you into a hug and the both of you decided to finally sleep, she was your safe haven from nightmares.

~~~~~

When she had her nightmares, you were there even if you were suffering.

~~~~~

Natasha went to bed earlier than usual and you not waking to disturb her as she slept so lightly, you decided to just go back to your room and try sleeping there.

Aside from your nightmares sometimes you was able to sleep through the night without constantly jumping, you tried to do something to occupy your mind, even ended up sitting by the window as you stared out in the stares just in hopes that it would make you sleepy.

You took a deep breath and walked towards the kitchen, you opened the fridge and took the cold water, taking a sip as shivers ran through your body, you turned around and started to walk towards your room again.

You stopped at Natasha's door, pressed your ear against it to listen. Maybe she was awake? but there was no movement so you sighed and slowly opened the door.

Making your way inside, as you see Natasha sitting in the middle of the bed, with her head resting on top her knees, she looked so small and fragile, you placed your water down and quickly made your way to her.

Your arms found themselves around her as she so easily fell into you, her face covered in trails of tears causing unsteady breathes to escape her mouth.

"It's okay Natty.. I'm here" You tried your best to reassure her as you whispered.

She loved your voice and each time it worked to calm her so she just nodded as she let her arms snake around you, gripping onto your shirt.

Your hand played with her hair as your free hand was placed firmly against her so you could tighten your embrace around her "I'm sorry"

You smiled sadly at her as she looked up at you when she spoke "There is nothing to apologise for, I am more than happy to be here for you"

She shook her head "This shouldn't be about me Y/n/n, you are the one with the most painful pain here"

You cupped her face as you stared into her eyes "You are just as important as my pain Natty.. Please don't say that"

A tear rolled down her face, you wiped it with your thumb and kissed her forehead and pulled her into you again "You are important Nat, don't tell yourself otherwise.."

No matter how much you wanted to break down from the pain in your heart, but you kept yourself together for her because in this moment she needs you and you were happy to do that...

~~~~~

Natasha never wanted anything back for what she did for you, she did it because she still very much loved you, she would even jump in front of a speeding car if you told her to, because being away from you pained her more than watching you fall in love with someone else.

After those 2 months you finally gotten a grip on your life, you started to heal and having someone near you only helped you heal faster, Wanda wasn't around but her walking microwave was, he would observe you and what you did.

So far for the past 4 months, you did pretty good, you seem to smile more often than at the start, you started to feel normal again and that was all because of Natasha, she stuck beside you at your worst and you wouldn't want it any other way.

Right now it was one of Tony's parties, you weren't so much in the mood for one but Natasha being here was more than motivating, so you attended.

Wearing one of the dresses you never had the chance to use, with some minimal make up, finally feeling good about yourself, so you made your way towards where the party was held. The first person you searched for in the crowd was Natasha and with ease you located her near the bar.

You made your way towards her as she slid over a drink that she prepared, you eyed the drink "How did you know what I like"

She shrugged as she sipped hers "I'm very observant"

You smiled widely as you took the drink and sipped on it as well, she was watching you, turning her body towards you "How are you?"

The tone she used wasn't something she used with everyone, you knew the meaning behind it "Definitely better now.. What about you?"

She shrugged once again as she looked down "I'm not sure actually"

You placed the drink as you grabbed her hand "It's okay to not know. You know you can talk to me, right?"

She looked up as her eyes locked with yours and she nodded bringing a smile upon your lips "Great, now drink that and let's go dance, before you turn into a grandma"

She raised her eyebrow "Grandma? Are you trying-"

"Sorry! I can't hear you, the music is too loud!" You shouted over her as she shook her head with a playful smile as she drank the rest of her drink.

You was already done with yours so as soon as she placed the glass down, the hand you held from earlier, you pulled towards the dance floor, feeling the burning sensation in your throat as alcohol made it's way into your blood.

Both of you danced for so long until you started to feel sober again, Natasha never left your side since she knew how you were when you drank, a little of alcohol made you so brave that she feared you might accidently punch someone.

You went to the bar alone, Natasha had clear sight of you but she was distracted with dancing as she waited for you. You knew this night was too good to be true, especially when you forgot that Wanda would be back today.

You didn't even notice the witch until she aggressively tapped your shoulder, making your head whip towards her and your eyes widen at her angry face.

"What do you think you're doing?" She questioned you as if you were suppose to be scared.

You rolled your eyes and ignored her as you continued to wait for your drink but she grabbed your shoulder and span you to face her, angering her more.

"What do you want?" You asked so unbothered by her presence.

"When did you start acting like a slut, Y/n?"

You raised your eyebrows at her, the way those words easily slipped out of her mouth "I'm acting like a slut? I am waiting for my drink and you are disturbing me"

She rolled her eyes, she felt her powers pumping inside her veins "You are the only person here, all over all those women"

You looked around to see what women she was talking about "What women? I was just dancing with Nata-" You paused "I don't have to explain myself to you, now leave me alone"

"Yes you do! You definitely need to tell me why you are all over Natasha? Are you sleeping with her?"

It was started to irritate you, she didn't care about you so many months ago and suddenly when things get better, she takes an interest, it's like her life goal is to destroy your happiness.

"You have to be joking right now.." You scoffed as you stared at her with so much disbelief across your face.

"Yes we sleep together, in the same bed! As she fucking helps me through my nightmares you gave me!" You poked her chest as you raised your voice at her.

"You think I will believe you? I seen the way you look at her Y/n-!"

You grabbed her hand as you showed her what you dream off, each night. Jumping up in fear and sweat as tears roll down your face and how each time those nightmares get worse, seeing how Wanda betrayed you over and over again and you were forced to see it, enduring more pain than it is healthy.

You let go of her hand as she finally looked at you but with a different emotion; guilt.

You scoffed as you walked away that's when Natasha noticed you was gone for too long, her gaze caught you walking away towards the elevators away from Wanda, she felt the anger in her raise but you were more important than dealing with Wanda.

You made your way towards the kitchen, as you wiped the runny make up down your face, using the reflecting bit of the coffee maker to see where the make up was ruined.

Suddenly a voice spoke up from behind you "How did you think that would end?"

It wasn't the voice you would expect to hear, you straighten yourself as you swiftly turned towards Vision "Are you as stupid as Wanda, I left to be left alone so why are you here?"

Your tone didn't faze him "Wanda never really loved you Y/n"

You rolled your eyes "Look you walking fridge, I don't give two shits what Wanda felt or not, I care about you leaving me the fuck alone before you regret it"

He stood there completely still, no emotions displayed "Did you think Wanda would love someone so simple, she has a connection with me through the mind stone but with you? Nothing"

You wanted to be angry but you knew this is why she left you, she had that connection with him that you could never understand, he laughed at your reaction "See, pathetic little girl who can't even get over the fact that she left"

"You never was enough. I am so much more better than you-" His sudden stop to his words, made you look up.

"If you don't leave this room, I swear the only thing that will be left is that stupid gem from your stupid head"

He raised his arms up as the gun was pointed at his head, Natasha might've drank a little too much, then again she doesn't exactly gets drunk, she is Russian and Russians are really hard to get drunk.

"Now leave" It was a demand that fell from the redheads mouth, he nodded and stepped out of the kitchen and left. He knew better than to start a war with the former assassin.

She placed her gun down as she rushed towards you and without a word just hugged you, you took a deep breath "Thank you.."

She pulled away slightly as she looked worryingly into your eyes "Whatever he said, it's not true-"

"Natty, there is no need to sugar coat it anymore" The smile that was spread across your lips wasn't as sad as it was before "She left me because I just wasn't what she wanted in the end, she might've left me in a horrible way but it's okay"

The Russian shook her head as she cupped your face with both of her hands as tears of her own dropped "You are just perfect, she made a horrible mistake"

You bought your hand to wipe her tears "Maybe, but that's her problem now and I couldn't be happier with where I am and who I am surrounded by"

She smiled as she pulled you into her, letting out a breath she was holding back, you always seem to have that effect on her whenever your face would be too close to hers.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

Another 6 months went by so quickly, and you seem to be closer to Natasha than before. She trained you and you in return showed her what fun tricks you can do with your mind.

She was amused by you but also annoyed each time she would place something and it suddenly it was gone. The team soon started to snoop around your business as they noticed Wanda no longer being all over you.

You told the team and they were more than understanding, respecting your wishes or else they would know what Natasha's fist tastes like.

You noticed how much you grew fond of the feeling for Natasha, you seen her in a whole different light and if you were honest you actually really liked it.

You could've promised yourself that you would never want to be with someone again but you knew that this is a whole lie and the more you spend your time with Natasha the stronger you felt towards her.

You could pinpoint the exact moment you realised that what you felt wasn't friendly but more romantic

~~~~~

You always loved cooking as a way to relax and that's what you were doing today, Natasha was against cooking, she wanted to do her reports but you managed to convince her with your famous cookies.

The mission the both of you attended was tense but not as hard as others so a little cooking couldn't hurt anyone, you looked at Natasha who just sat there as she leaned on her hands.

"You could help me instead of being a weirdo and just staring" You spoke as you eyed her from what you were doing.

She chuckled as she protested "I was told to accompany you not be your elf"

You raised your brows at her "Elf? it's not Christmas season just yet darling"

If you were silent enough you could've heard Natasha's heart skip a beat at the nickname you used, she just stared at you with a smile so you continued not realising her obvious staring "Plus elf's are cute and very useful so more your ass and help me if you want some of these cookies"

She rolled her eyes playfully as she made her way towards you, you handed her some ingredients to mix together as you did your part as well.

She stood there, mixing it as her muscles flexed catching your eye once or twice... or all the time. You tried your best to keep your focus on what you were doing and finally when she was finished, she pushed the bowl towards you without saying anything.

You looked at her and the smile that was spread across her lips was the most innocent smile anyone could witness. Sometimes Natasha manages to act like a child just to impress you and it did work most of the time.

You smirked as you took your finger and dipped it into the melted chocolate and with one swift motion you rubbed it onto her face, her mouth fell open as you started to giggle at her.

She frown at you but failed to act upset as your giggles made her smile, so she did what she thought was payback and took some of the chocolate as she rubbed it on your cheek.

You looked at her when you suddenly stopped laughing "Okay, okay, I deserved that"

You tried to wiped the chocolate away but she stopped you and looked into your eyes, the sense of innocence was gone "Let me get it for you"

When her face moved closed to your cheek, you froze and then you felt her tongue on your cheek as she licked off the chocolate she just wiped on you, when she moved away and hummed at the deliciousness, your eyes were slightly wider as you stared at her.

This feeling wasn't friendly and definitely not innocent

~~~~~

You was sitting next to Natasha on the couch, with your head on her shoulder as she scrolled down her phone to bunch of 10 second videos of cats. You planned to ask Natasha out for a walk later in the day to finally talk to her but the thought of planning what you were going to say to her was interrupted.

"Sorry Y/n, can I quickly talk to you?" Wanda spoke up as she stood couple feet away from the couch.

You felt Natasha tense which made you look at her and nod slightly to let her know it's okay, she relaxed and smiled at you but her narrowed eyes came back as soon as it landed on Wanda.

"Sure" You spoke with just one word as the two of you made your way towards the kitchen, far enough from Natasha's hearing range.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, I just wanted to apologise.."

You took a deep breath, thinking it will be one of those scenes where the ex begs to get back but she held her hand up as she spoke before you could "I'm not here to 'beg' you to come back to me, I just wanted to say that I am really sorry how things turned out"

"I had a lot of time to think about what you showed me and I didn't realise the pain I had in flicked on you by doing what I did. It was a mistake with how I handled it and I am sorry"

You took a deep breath, this is all you wanted from her and in the end she finally understood her wrong "Like I said, I'm not here to beg you because I did fall out of love with you and nothing has changed since that time but I just wanted to say I'm sorry Y/n"

You would be lying if you said it didn't hurt, because you used to love her with your whole being but at the same time, you didn't love her like that anymore, someone else owned your heart and you were more than happy to gift it to them.

You nodded with a smile across your lips "I know Wanda, Thank you for this"

She nodded as she looked past you at Natasha "I'm just glad you were able to fall in love again.."

You looked where she was looking and smiled widely to yourself as you whispered "I know.."

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

You dragged Natasha along with you by her hand, she wanted to stay inside as it was cold but of course to managed to convince her, she of course said she would blame you if she gotten sick and you promised to be there for her if she was.

You pulled her towards this tall bridge that had a little pond beneath it, it was covered in ice which was more beautiful, the way the lights would light up the darkness and that's exactly how you felt with Natasha.

You stood in the middle of the bridge, smiling widely as Natasha's cheeks were slightly pink "Why are you smiling so much?"

The smile across of your lips never left as you answered her "Because Tasha! Look around it's beautiful"

She kept her gaze on you as you looked around "I agree with you" she didn't care about anything else but you in this moment admiring the beautiful of the world whilst her world stood right in front of her.

"Well why are we here?" She asked curious to why you wanted to drag her out here.

You took a deep breath and finally looked into her emerald eyes, taking in her warm hand "I brought you here so I can tell you something important-"

She whined "You could've told me in the warmth of my bedroom"

You rolled your eyes "No, no I could not have"

"Fine, okay.. Tell me" She sighed with a small smile.

"Natasha, where do I start... You have changed so much in my life and I really hope this will change a lot of things for good"

She looked confused at you as her heart started to beat fast in her chest and you continued "I never thought I could get over what has happened but you made it so much more easier which is what made me fall in love with you"

"You have been nothing but amazing to me and I regret not seeing how strongly I feel about you. Because of you Tasha, I am whole again and-"

Before you could continue, Natasha pulled your face into hers as she smashed her lips against yours, the way her lips moved against yours made you feel so loved and happy.

She pulled away with the biggest smile as she pressed her forehead against yours "I had always loved you медовый (honey) and I would've done anything you told me even if that meant staying away"

You sighed at her words "I don't want you to stay away"

Natasha smiled with so much love "Good, I couldn't even if I wanted to"

You pulled her in for a kiss but before actually kissing her you whispered "I love you too Natty" and finally allowed yourself to kiss Natasha with the same love as she was giving you.

[saintshigaraki]

HERE, IN THE MORNING LIGHT, IS WHERE WE’LL BARE OUR SOULS

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader 

words: 3.2k

excerpt: Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less. 

a/n: this is...a bit too similar to my bakugou drabble i’ll admit. but i could see a relationship with ushijima having some of the same problems. he’s not purposely cruel, but god, doesn’t that just make it so much worse?

tags: angst, mentions of alcohol, implied sex, reader is full of rage, ambiguous/open ending

in case you want to read it on ao3!

You greet Toshi at the door, as you’ve made a habit of doing when he manages to come home before you’ve fallen asleep.

(Like a well-trained dog, you think, with only the most bitter sort of amusement.) 

When you lift your hand up to cup his face, a sweet hello, love, how was your day? on your lips, he sweeps it aside (gently, of course. He's always so sickeningly gentle when he brushes you aside. You think that might just make the hollow sting of his nonchalant rejection that much worse.)

“Have you made anything for dinner?” he asks, already walking away before you have a chance to pull him down for a kiss. Your arm falls unceremoniously at your side. A deadweight, swinging. 

I think I might hate you, you want to say, so,  so badly. The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue as you stand frozen in the darkened entryway, his shadow stretches, eclipsing you, as he walks further and further away.

But these moments of sweet burning-hot rage pass as quickly as they come and soon -- too soon, maybe, or not soon enough -- you find yourself turning on your heels and shining a too-bright smile, the one that shows too many teeth and leaves an ache in your cheeks. 

“Not yet, love, but I can whip up something real quick.” 

The words taste like lead in your mouth.

(Or maybe that's just the blood from biting your tongue.)

Who knows, you muse, bitterly, bitingly. What does it matter anyway? 

You make your way towards the kitchen.

+

Later that night, after he’s finished fucking you into the mattress, he grunts out an I love you, before rolling over and promptly falling asleep. 

His cum is sticky and uncomfortable as it cools on your burning thighs. 

You stare at the lights sweeping across the ceiling from the passing cars and try to remember days when you didn’t feel as though someone had hollowed out everything that made you and filled in the empty space with barely contained rage. 

Rationally, you know you weren’t always so unhappy with Ushijima. You loved him -- you still do -- you have for years. You could barely contain your tears of joy when he asked you to marry him and you didn’t manage to contain them at all the day you officially tied the knot. 

You were so happy then. So, so, happy. 

What happened? 

(You know exactly what happened.)

You’ve made sacrifice after sacrifice for him. Moved from country to country. Left your family and friends behind more times than you can count. Because you love Toshi. Because you love him more than anything. And because he loves you, though you know he doesn’t love you more than anything. It’s a selfish gripe to have. A rather dumb one too. Of course he doesn’t love you more than volleyball. Why should he? He’s dedicated his whole life to the sport. Countless hours, countless injuries, and setbacks, and he’s persevered through it all because that's what he does. Because that sport, that court, that stupid fucking ball, is what he loves above all else. 

It’s not as if you jumped into this marriage wholly and totally blind. You’re not dumb. You knew volleyball was going to be a priority in his life,  the priority. And you thought you could handle that. You did handle it. For 5 years you’ve handled it, the constant moving, the last minute canceled plans, the weeks of him traveling that have left you all alone for near months at a time in a cold home with a cold bed. You’ve handled it all with a too-wide smile plastered painfully across your face. 

But things have -- shifted, recently. Maybe it’s the pressure of what could very well be his last Olympics coming up in these next few years, maybe it’s the fear of someone younger, better, stronger than him taking his place, or maybe, he simply doesn’t give all that much of a  fuck about you anymore. 

(You know that’s not true. Wakatoshi loves you. You know that. Which is what makes this all so much worse.)

I love you, isn’t that enough? he’d said bluntly, and maybe a bit confused, last time you brought up your concerns after the third canceled date in a row. 

His words had made you pause. Was it enough? Why isn’t it enough? Shouldn’t it be enough?

At the time, you’d thought, maybe. Maybe I can make it enough. 

A year later and you’ve come to the realization that it simply -- isn’t enough. Maybe if you were a different person, a slightly better person, it’d be enough. But you’re not. You’re you, a strange, toxic concoction of hollow fury and selfish desires (for comfort, for love, for anything more than whatever this is).

You roll over on your side to face your husband. He’s on his back, like he always is when he sleeps, completely dead to the world. 

He’s statuesque, unmovable, untouchable, even now. 

You gently brush your finger over his brow, sweeping his hair to the side, and tracing his strong jawline. You’ve done this a thousand times. You’ve memorized every curve, every freckle, every scar. You’ve mapped countless constellations across his skin. 

You don’t hate him, you realize, in the dark suffocating silence of the night. Not yet, at least. There’s still too much love for him in your heart. Still too many memories of brighter days. Sweeter days. Gentler days. 

He’s been good to you. As good as a man like him is capable of being. And you love him so, so dearly for it. 

He has tomorrow off, maybe -- maybe you should talk to him. There’s still time to salvage this. There’s still so much love for him in your heart, enough to drive out the hate. You know it. 

He has tomorrow off, you repeat to yourself. The first full day he’s taken off in a month. 

You’ll talk to him then. 

You have to. 

+

The morning light is what wakes you. The gentle rays kiss your cheeks so sweetly. 

Without fully opening your eyes, you reach towards Ushi only to be met with -- cool sheets. 

Your stomach drops painfully and it's as though he’s taken your heart in his hands and just squeezed. 

You open your eyes, wearily, tiredly, and the morning light no longer seems so sweet. It’s mocking. A cruel, bitter reminder of better days and broken promises. 

You crawl out of bed, trying to stay optimistic -- maybe he just went for a morning jog -- even though you know that on days he has off he likes to sleep in. You try desperately to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he promised and you want so badly to still be able to believe him, even after everything. 

He used to have every Saturday and Sunday free, then around three years ago it turned into every Sunday, then a year and a half ago it turned into every other Sunday, and recently -- well, it’s been a while. A long, long while. 

But he promised he’d stay home today. 

He promised, you repeat as you stumble around the apartment only to find it painfully silent, empty, and so, so cold. 

You collapse on the couch, hunched over, your head hanging pitifully into your hands. You take a deep, pathetically shaky breath. 

And then you laugh. 

You laugh so hard you nearly heave. 

Two years ago, you would’ve cried. A year ago, you would’ve screamed. 

But now? Who do you really have to blame, but yourself? How can you not laugh? How can you not laugh at just how stupid and gullible you are? 

Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less. 

This is your fault. And it has been for a long while now. 

It’s time to move on. 

+

You book a one-way flight home -- you haven’t been back in so long. Too long, you know. You stuff as much as you can into your single suitcase and pitiful carry-on bag. It’s all strangely methodical and robotic. You’re calmer than you’ve been in months. 

This is how it was always going to end. Honestly, you don’t think there was really supposed to be another option, any other way out. You don’t think this mess was ever going to be fixed. It was stupid of you to ever believe otherwise. 

By the time you’ve managed to compose yourself, get your affairs in order, and meticulously pack away as much as you can, the sun has started to dip below the horizon. 

The clock reads 9:18 PM. Your flight is in a few hours. You’ll have to get going soon. 

You pick out the nicest, most expensive bottle of red wine in your home. You were going to save it for when Ushi made the national team again but, as you’ve learned rather painfully, sometimes plans change. 

You pour yourself a glass, but in the end, can’t bring yourself to take a single sip. 

That’s how Ushi finds you, sitting at the kitchen table, toying with a glass of wine. There’s only the lone kitchen light lit in the apartment. The shadows dance around him, dark and monstrous, ready to swallow you both whole. 

Wakatoshi has never been particularly skilled at reading social cues but you can tell from the slight tilt of his head that he knows somethings wrong. You wonder if he knows exactly how wrong. 

(Not that it would really change anything if he did.)

The thud of his gym bag hitting the floor echoes too loudly in the silent apartment. 

He steps into the kitchen like he does all other things -- with purpose, with confidence. It will never not leave you in awe, even now, how sure he always is of himself. He’s a blunt force weapon, he always has been, and you can’t imagine a time where he’ll be anything but. 

He stops at the opposite end of the table. It’s the beginning of the same song and dance you two have done time and time again when he breaks his little promises. 

His big ones too. 

(You think of when he had missed your five-year anniversary dinner for a last-minute practice. He hadn’t forgotten about the reservation, he’d told you after he’d returned home to you sitting alone at the kitchen table, half-drunk and livid, but people were relying on him, is what he’d said, and there’s always next year.)

This routine is comforting, if only in the cruelest way. 

We can put on a show, just this last time, you think. For old time’s sake. 

Your eyes fall back down to your glass as you speak. “You said you’d stay home today.”

You look back up just in time to see him opening his mouth. No doubt getting ready to cycle through the same set of excuses he’s been using for the past four years. 

A teammate called. 

I needed the extra practice. 

There’s a skill I need to perfect. 

The Olympics are 4 years away...3 years away...2 years away....you know that, love.

And, of course, no matter his reason, his excuse, he always makes sure to add, I’ll stay home next Sunday, I promise. 

He doesn’t intend for that last part to be cruel, you’re sure of it, but God, if that doesn’t make it so much worse. 

You cut him off before he can even start. “You promised.”

His brows furrow at your exhausted, weary tone. “There was a team meeting today, I’m sorry I forgot to mention it to you. It went on longer than I expected it would. We can still go out to dinner if you’d like.” 

You give him a sad sort of smile. You’re too tired to give him any other. “I don’t think I’ll have time for that, love.”

Ushijima’s left brow twitches, as it always does when he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on. 

He takes a step forward, around the table. “What do you mean? Are you going out tonight?” 

You shake your head softly. “No, Toshi.”

You can’t help but wish more than anything, that it didn’t have to come to this, because you have loved him so much, so deeply, and you think that for it to end like this is a disservice to you both. 

His jaw clenches, no doubt already trying to contain his frustration. He’s probably tired after his long day. An argument over something like this is probably the last thing he wants. A good wife would care more. A good wife might’ve persevered, smiled through her husband's little lies and shattered promises. A good wife might’ve tried harder. A good wife might’ve dug her heels in, instead of letting go completely. 

But you’re not a good wife. Not now, at least. For all you know, you never were. You’ve always been just a bit too bitter, too selfish, too flawed. Not willing enough to throw yourself on the metaphorical altar for him. 

He’s close enough now that he can see the suitcase at your side. It stops him dead in his tracks. 

“What’s going on?” His tone is hard, demanding, but you know him too well to miss the fear that pulls at the corner of his eyes. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi is a lot of things. But he’s certainly not dumb. He has to know what’s going on. He has to have known that, eventually, this was what was going to happen. 

You stand up slowly, bracing your palms against the rough wood of the tabletop. 

“I-” you let out a harsh, mean breath. You hate that you’re doing this. But you’d hate yourself more if you didn’t. And you know you’d grow to hate him too, eventually, if you stay. You’re burning up here in this home, each broken promise and cold night add fuel to the already raging fire. You’ll be nothing but ashes soon enough. “I can’t do this anymore, Wakatoshi.” 

His pretty olive eyes narrow. The look he gives you is practically glacial. His fury has always been so, so cold. A stark contrast to your burning rage. 

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t understand.” His words are slow, methodical, and too even.

They crack open something violent inside your chest, something with teeth. Something mean and ugly and so, so sad. 

Too many years of biting your tongue have culminated into this moment. It’s time to strip yourself to the bone, to the ugly marrow. No matter how painful or awful. 

Don’t you two deserve that, at least? Don’t you two deserve to part ways having seen the worst of each other? 

“Of course you don’t understand, Ushijima,” you spit out, caustic and cruel. “How can you?” The laugh you let out is ripped from the very bottom of your heart, mean and poisonous. “Or more accurately, why would you? Why would you even bother understanding? It’s not like my unhappiness has ever really meant anything to you before-”

He cuts in sharply. “You know that’s not true.”

“No,”  you hiss. “I don’t. How can I? I’ve been miserable for years now, left to beg for scraps of your attention like a fucking dog. I’ve reduced myself to this pathetic creature. I-” tears cloud your vision, far faster than you can blink them away. “I don’t even recognize myself anymore, Ushijima. I’m so--I’m so angry all the time and if I stay here that’s going to be all that’s left of me.”

It’s silent after your outburst and in the air is something awful and too great. You’re both teetering on the edge of something terrifying. 

“If you stay with me, you mean,” he says, finally, and far too soft for a man like him. All signs of his previous fury have fled and in his eyes is a painful sort of vulnerability.

Your anger dissipates with his, mostly because you’re so fucking tired of being angry. 

Is it really his fault, anyway? What exactly were you expecting of him, when you took his last name? Were you really wanting him to change something so fundamental, so ingrained in his soul, just for you? How unfair of you, you realize now, how cruel. 

“Toshi.” You’re exhausted. And so sick of being second best. “This is more my fault than it is yours. I thought I could handle what being married to you would entail but I was,” -- you laugh, far less biting than before-- “very wrong.” You close your eyes, unable to look at him. “And now I suppose we’re both paying the price for it.” 

“I love you,” he says, bluntly. “And you love me.”

You’re finally able to meet his eyes again. You take in the planes of his face, the subtle pain etched into every corner, a brutal, beautiful reflection of the years you’ve spent by his side. 

“I do love you, Ushijima. More than anything.” 

“Then why are you doing this?” 

You swallow hard. “Sometimes, that just isn’t enough, Toshi. Relationships require more than love. They require work, and compromise, and some semblance of care and dedication, and you just-- you just don’t have the time for that right now, and I understand that. But I can’t keep doing this to myself. I deserve-” you stop and give yourself a moment to choose your words carefully, lovingly because you’re desperate for him to just understand. “We deserve better, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head, his hair falls in his eyes. You sweep it aside, a force of habit after all these years, something you’ve done a million and one times. Before you can jerk your arm back he grips it in his large hand. His fingers wrap around your wrist, unyielding. 

“I need you,” Toshi says, uncharacteristically desperate. You can feel the heat radiating off his chest. It's a twisted sort of comfort. Knowing this may very well be the last time you’ll be in this position. 

You smile, sweetly and a bit sadly. “No, you don’t, Ushi. You need volleyball. You need the thrill of the game and the taste of victory but you don’t need me. You’ve never needed me. And that’s okay.” You lift your other hand up to brush the stray tear that’s fallen from his eye. He nuzzles into your palm before you can move it, clinging to you like some sort of lifeline. “It’ll be okay, Toshi, we’ve just reached the end of our road. That’s all.”

He raises a shaky hand to trace the dried tracks of tears on your cheek, it’s startling to see him so uncomposed. “Please,” he nearly begs, “don’t do this.”

In your heart, there’s an odd brew of grief and rage and pain and love so mean you know you’ll feel the ache of it for years to come. 

You think of all the shattered promises he’s left at your feet, you think of the gentle way he’s held you through the years, you think of his string of nonchalant rejection, you think of yourself, bright and burning. 

Your mind spins from it and all you can do is rest your head against his chest and close your eyes.

a/n pt 2: there is some untapped potential in the fed up housewife genre and i am determined to unearth it. also i love ushi i promise i think he’d be a great husband under most circumstances

[yesimwriting]

The Needs of Pain (part 2)

A/n since y’all liked part one!!

... i think i could make a part 3?? we’ll see lol 

This is the LONGEST thing i’ve written on here wow,, and the smuttiest 

Warnings: teasing, oral, unprotected sex (pls this is my first time writing full smut be gentle lol)

-- 

Exhaustion is an odd result of pain. I didn’t think I was that tired after the burn. I certainly didn’t feel sleepy while Kirigan cleaned my shoulder and brushed his soft lips and sharp teeth along my neck to distract me from the pain. Why am I even thinking of that? Of the way his breath felt against my skin, the way his tongue soothed any bites he left against my skin. I breathe out flatly. 

Stop thinking of him. Stop thinking of him in that context--that’s why he did it. He enjoys getting under people’s skin, that’s why he’s always insulting the way I see the world. My hand reaches to my neck, touching my skin where I can still feel his lips on my skin, tracing the faint marks I had seen in the bathroom mirror.

I should have asked the healer to get rid of them before they fully formed, but the thought of showing them to anyone was too embarrassing to bear. I force my hand away, dropping it onto my pillow. 

He had acted so strange today, he had been so blunt. It was a tactic. He wants to be in my head and I’m giving him what he wants. I sigh, rolling over and pulling my duvet further up my body. It’s too hot for this. Ugh. I kick the duvet off of my legs, letting my nightgown wrinkle up my body. Strong hands could pull the fabric up in a similar, yet much more euphoric way. 

No. Who’s thoughts are these? The fact that I picture the same hands that dabbed at my burn earlier today has me questioning my sanity. I can’t sleep like this. Kirigan wanted to be in my head and now he is. Damn him. I can’t stand him which means I can never have him.

Desire has nothing to do with tolerance. The thought leaves my face warm and stomach twisted. 

I sit up sharply, sliding out of bed tiredly. I’ll get some air and everything will be fine. The moon will clear my mind.

The Little Palace is strangely twisting at night, all long shadows and yellow lantern light. I slip out of my room quickly, but my thoughts are not immediately banished with the change of scenery. I must be ill. Infection must have set in regardless of my efforts and the healer sealed it beneath my skin and now it’s impacting me. Fever. I’m delusional with fever. 

“I didn’t take you the kind for a late night trist.” 

His voice leaves the hairs on the back of my neck standing like soldiers at attention. I manifested him the same way people manifest the devil. “Air.” My defense is childish. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get some air.” 

The sound of even footsteps leaves me frozen in place. “What keeps someone like you awake?” It’s like he can read through me. “Thoughts of me?” 

He can never know. “Obviously.” 

My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, he lets out an almost humored breath. “Or perhaps it’s pain.” 

The comment is so confusing I almost don’t realize he’s bringing up my shoulder injury. How had I let him see me so vulnerable? Why did he seem somewhat concerned in his own way? 

“My shoulder’s perfectly fine.” Good. A normal direction for this conversation to head. “It took the Healer all of two minutes.” 

The touch on my shoulder is so sudden I almost jump. Kirigan doesn’t shy away at that, fingers firmly brushing down the skin. “It feels the same.” 

I could scream. His strange observation means nothing to me, but the implication is enough to drive me mad. The implication that he knows my skin well enough to be able to judge whether the healed skin feels different is sickening. I’m tired of this. 

I turn on my heels, all of my tiredness and irritation twisting in me. “Even if it didn’t, it’s none of your concern.” 

“I didn’t realize you were extra irritable when you’re tired.”

Every conversation with him leaves me feeling petulant. “I’m not tired.” I cross my arms, keep my expression set. “I just--I wanted to get some air.” 

“Hm.” He takes a step forward, preparing to close the small distance I’d managed to create between us. “And why is that?” 

The question leaves me irritated in an odd way. A flat way. There’s a narcissistic entitlement in that question. An entitlement to my thoughts. I shrug. “I hoped it’d make me tired.” 

Kirigan draws his eyebrows together, curiosity and something resembling amusement playing at his expression. “If you’d like to be tired, I think I know a few ways to be of assistance.”

A faint, aggravating warmth comes to my face. Not only did my lie earn me a ridiculous innuendo, it’s also trapped me in a corner I cannot escape. Healing from the burn had left me pathetically drowsy. There’s no way he can’t see through me, a tired haze has to be visible on my face. My eyelids feel weighted and I’m too distracted by my deep longing for sleep to hold onto irritation. 

“I’m sure I’ll manage on my own.” The words are not meant to be a challenge, just a way to dismiss him. I don’t think he takes them that way. 

He draws his eyebrows together, eyes threatening to lose that curious quality. Kirigan steps forward, I step back blankly, desperate to keep enough distance to keep what’s left of my wits about me. He ignores my reaction, taking another step forward. I take another step back. My back touches the wall. I am a mouse and he’s an excited cat. 

“You don’t have to,” his voice is too low, too intimate, “I’m not sure that’s something you want to understand.” 

My chin raises just slightly, a silent protest. “Dependency is a fatal flaw.” 

“So is desire,” his reply is much too quick. “Desire is worse, because one can resist dependency based on pride...but desire, that is something that one sacrifices for.” 

Maybe if I was less tired I’d bother to interpret his words a little more. But all I can focus on is his tone--the quality of it. “You sound heavy.” My voice is as light as the night breeze I was craving moments ago. “But you always sound heavy.” It’s the wistful observation of someone slowly disappearing. “At least you’re pretty,” I muse, falling more and more distant by the second.

Something soft breaks across his features, his lips quirking. “Pretty?” 

I rest my back against the wall comfortably, eyes shutting without permission. “I’m sure I’ll regret that comment in a moment.” 

He stays silent, but his presence does not disappear. I can’t tell if I’m glad for it. The warm touch on my shoulder startles me out of my drowsy trance. Panic has me ready to jump off the wall, but Kirigan brushes his thumb up and down my shoulder. His touch sets any skin that comes in contact with him aflame. I shouldn’t find the gesture so comforting. My eyes flutter shut again, my body relaxing against the wall. When my protest dies out before it begins, Kirigan shifts closer. I’m confused, but too at peace to answer. Something velvety and warm brushes against my collar. Soft and warm and electric. He’s kissing my skin again. 

My lips part in hopes of arguing, but when his teeth graze the skin he already marked earlier I’m gone. My eyes shut again, but this time it’s different. Pleasure and drowsiness clear me of all inhibitions as his touch becomes more and more assured. I let him test me, his mouth moving against any and all exposed skin. I don’t even stop him when I feel his hands graze the hem of my nightgown, wrinkling it the way I imagined earlier. 

“Kirigan.” I need to find my strength, but what’s the point of strength when his touch leaves me so warm? The only acknowledgement of my protest he offers me is the lingering squeeze of my thigh before his long fingers begin to graze towards the inside of my thighs. I have no choice but to let his lips brush up my neck, his teeth grazing my skin the way they did earlier today. “Kirigan.” I try to sound firmer, but he destroys the rest of my sentence before I have the chance to get it out. His teeth nip the base of my neck, ruining my protest for a second time.

 Maybe if I was less tired I’d be able to fight him off a little better, but I’m so drowsy I had trouble thinking before he started touching me. My eyes shut in both bliss and exhaustion. His thumb presses into my hip. Something in me stalls as his fingers brush the hem of my underwear--testing me, challenging me. I open my eyes on instinct, but he remains unbothered, slipping his thumb beneath the only fabric that divides us in order to better grip my hip.

I stiffen because of how badly I want to melt. This is bad. This is insane. We’re in a hallway in the middle of the night and he’s General Kirigan. Whatever attraction I feel is another tactic to manipulate me. 

“We need to stop.” The command is weak, my voice as dry as my resolve. 

He angles his head in order to regard me a little better. His expression is one of mock confusion as he smirks. Actually smirks. “Stop what?” False innocence drips from his voice as he leans towards me, expression amused as his lips near my own. “I haven’t even started yet.” My eyes widen, something that amuses him. “Y/n?”

I’m left on edge. I’m left wanting. My lips part flatly, but words feel so distant. “Yes?” 

“What happened earlier?” His voice is the kind of sinful that’s meant to coax. Kirigan brushes his thumb across my shoulder, eyes watching mine cautiously. “How did you get burned?” 

I push against the sultry quality of his voice. “I told you--an accident.” 

“Hm.” His eyebrows draw together in a surprisingly soft way. I stare at him freely, but he ignores my gaze, eyes locked on my newly healed skin. Is he truly that concerned? “Whose accident?” 

I swallow once. “My own.” He still isn’t looking at me. “I’m not exactly the most coordinated person, you’ve witnessed my clumsiness yourself.” 

Kirigan is not convinced. Perhaps he will never fully buy my partial lie. His grip on me hardens. Restraint. I may not be able to win against his paranoia, but I might be able to distract him. Cautiously, I move one hand forward, touching the hand that’s on my shoulder. I hesitate. Touching him without prompting almost feels too intimate. I’m being ridiculous. I brush my fingers against the back of his palm, letting my touch trail up his forearm. 

“Y/n.” My name borders on a warning. 

I suppress a smile, playing into my sleepiness as I tilt my head to the side. “Yes?” 

He doesn’t reply, expression tightening as my hand snares around his wrist, pulling it off my shoulder with more care than I thought myself capable of. The intensity of his gaze is enough to burn me. I turn my full attention to his hand. I’d never admit this out loud, but this isn’t the first time I’ve thought about how objectively attractive his hands are. I kiss each of his knuckles slowly, brushing my lips against his skin tentatively. 

To my surprise, he allows my indulgence. I glance at him through my lashes. Kirigan’s eyes are shut, expression bordering on pained. “Kirigan?” 

He opens his eyes but his expression does not ease. His other hand leaves my thigh, grabbing the low collar of my nightgown with such a fierce speed it takes me a second to realize what’s happening. He pulls me away from the wall in a way that borders on violent. 

“I don’t know who you’re protecting, but I guarantee you they’re not worth it.” The words are acidic. He’s seething. “I grow tired of your resistance.” 

If he hadn’t transformed into something so untamed, I might have had enough gall to tell him I grow tired of being toyed with. I say nothing, instead I take in the abrasiveness of his anger, the tension of his grip on the thin fabric that clothes me. I am unflinching in my assessment in the most tired way possible, eyes struggling not to shut and body desperate to rest, but even more desperate for him. His eyes stare into mine, searching for something I am too far gone to offer. He must realize my sleepiness is genuine because he soon drops his gaze, taking his time in analyzing the even rise and fall of my chest as well as the hint of cleavage his grip on my nightgown is exposing. Pure heat finds itself in my face, chest, and worst of all---core. His staring lacks any shame. 

Kirigan parts his lips as if to speak but then instead takes a moment to lick them. The thought of his tongue in relation to lips only makes the burning in me worse. It’s practically an ache. A needy one. 

“I grow weary of your lack of understanding.” 

Understanding? “What is there to understand?” 

His head angles itself to one side but he doesn’t meet my gaze. The hold he has on me loosens just enough so that his hold on me is no longer taut. That should not disappoint me the way it does. I wait patiently, ignoring the bundle of unexplained nerves in my stomach as best as I can. Something strange colors his features when he finally looks at me again, something almost vulnerable. 

“I brought you here.” He sounds farther from me than ever. “I…” His exhale is gentle, but his expression is quick to harden. “Who are you so willing to protect?”

I must be really tired because his voice sounds like it borders on heart ache. If I didn’t fear Arthur’s safety I’d tell Kirigan everything if it meant his pain would dissipate. I never thought Kirigan’s potential pain would bother me, but now that I’ve seen him look stricken by something so weighted--now that I’ve seen the way he wears pain--I don’t want to be the one to give him that. I want to be the one to give him some kind of sanctuary. The thought leaves me with a desire to flea. 

“Will you just believe me when I say it’s no one?” In a way that’s the truth. Arthur is not particularly significant unless you’re a young Grisha female with a desire for heart ache. “No one worth mentioning at least.” 

He’s quick to retighten his hold on my nightgown, leaving the fabric taut and more of me exposed. “You being desperate to protect them makes them worth interest.” A different response than I expected. 

My lips thin. “Only because it was a small accident. They don’t deserve to be punished over the briefest loss of focus.” 

I take his silence as an indicator that he is considering my words. His free hand finds my shoulder as he pulls me even closer to him by the fabric he’s gripping. “And if I were to revoke the threat of punishment?” His voice is the definition of temptation, low and promising and coddling me with its sinfulness. I still as Kirigan leans forward so that his lips are practically on my ear. “Then would you tell me? If I released you from the binds of your nobility?” My lips part but I have no words prepared. Before I can think of what to say, his lips graze the side of my jaw before his teeth nip at the end of my ear. “Tell me just to humor me.” 

The command doesn’t make sense to me, but from his lips it feels important. “You won’t hurt them for what happened?” 

His voice seems rougher than before, “Would that make a difference?” 

“It would make all the difference.” I don’t like the honesty of my words. 

Kirigan allows one hand to trail down my waist--a gesture I consider obscenely intimate when paired with the soft brush of his lips on my collar. “I already know who.” His voice is a dark hum. “I was always going to know one way or another--but it’s good to know you would have told me.”

My stomach lurches, dread pouring into me like tar. Before fear can force me to take action, Kirigan begins to leave open mouth kisses from the top of my jaw to the bottom of my neck, taking his time to assault any spot of skin with his tongue that he wants. This reminds me too much of earlier--touches meant to distract from pain with the use of pleasure. 

“Are you--” His mouth is now on my collar, threatening to destroy my question. “Are you going to hurt him?”

At that Kirigan straightens. The sudden lack of contact leaves me cold. I shouldn't be thinking of him. Of his touch. “I’m curious,” he draws out each syllable, delighting in my nerves, “Would you bear his punishment?” 

I’m not sure. I hate that. I haven’t known Arthur for that long, and while he’s kind, he also seems to see all women as replaceable. That isn’t reason for him to endure Kirigan’s punishment but I don’t know him well enough to just blindly agree to that. I loathe myself for not being noble enough to take Arthur’s punishment instantly. 

“What kind of punishment?” 

Kirigan’s expression twists into a greedy smile. He pushes me back easily, pressing me into the wall with more confidence than ever. I’m silent in my confusion until he presses himself against me and I feel something hard and bulging press into where I’m neediest. I stifle a gasp of surprise and something similar to pleasure. “I’m sure I could think of something for you.” I’d care more about my confusion if hot need wasn’t flooding my thoughts and my body with undeniable desperation. “I haven’t even spoken to him.” I exhale, untrusting relief desperate to escape me. Kirigan is quick to lean forward, lips brushing my ear as he prepares to whisper. “I’m more likely to harm him because he has your favor than anything else.”

Warmth burns my face. “He doesn’t--he’s not exactly the one that holds my favor.”

The heat of his breath adds to my burning as he presses his bulge into my core again. “And who does?” 

I’m not sure what he considers favor, but if it has anything to do with wanting he wins. But he can never know that. “There are some contenders, but no one yet.” 

His hand moves off my hip and nears my throat. “Would it be too bold to assume I’m on the short list?”

He’s two steps away from taking me in an open hallway, I doubt he finds much bold. “Do you want to be?” 

Kirigan’s hand tightens on my throat. “I’ve made it clear from the beginning what I want.” His words are lethal and each syllable has him restricting my airflow a little more. Something in me must be broken because my neediness only worsens. “I brought you here because I see all that you could be. Forget being a Saint, we could be gods.” The sentiment is so raw it’s almost harder to bear than his tight grip on my neck. He leans close again, his scent only adding to my budding lightheadedness. “Say the word, and I could have you praising me like I’m already a god.” My stomach knots in both nerves and insatiable hunger. “Though I’m the one that would be doing the worshipping.” 

My resolve is shattered, leaving me broken and twisting. He releases his hold on my neck in order to move his hand beneath my chin. There is nothing gentle about the way he jerks my head forward, forcing me to look into his eyes. Something about the look he gives me has me melting. His eyes are searching for something in me.

He must find whatever he’s looking for because I feel his touch against my heat, fingers pressing against fabric. I bite my lip on instinct, suppressing the sound of my undoing. Kirigan’s eyes never leave mine as the hand on my chin moves to brush against my bottom lip. 

“I can only give you what you want if you tell me what that is.” 

He exhales slowly, pressing his thumb against my lip downwards. My mouth parts on instinct, something that he takes well. His thumb enters my mouth slowly, taking in my reaction as I taste his skin on my tongue. Kirigan pulls his thumb away from my tongue slowly, a thin string of saliva connecting him to my mouth. With one swift tug, his free hand pulls the only fabric separating him from where I want him most down my thighs. His expression reveals nothing as his thumb, still wet with my saliva, is pressed against my core. His touch teases my clit, just barely brushing where I need him most. The whine that escapes me is so desperate I’m ashamed I can’t help it. 

“So wet already,” his appraisal is gentle, the praise whispered against my throat as his lips brush against my neck. “So wet, so needy that you’d let me take you in this hallway and I’ve hardly touched you.” His finger presses further into me. I let out another pathetic breath. “A pity, someone like you--so painfully under cared for.” I’m reduced to nothing by his words and touch. “What I’d give to undue you here, against the wall--I’d have you crying so loudly everyone would know that I’ve claimed you, that I’ve made you mine.” Before I can reflect on his words, he steps back, pulling my underwear back up as quickly as he yanked it down. 

I let out an instinctual whine. My hand moves to his arm, grabbing him like he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth. “What--” 

Kirigan squeezes my hand, a predator’s smile on his lips. “I want to feel all of you,” his hand squeezes my hip, “I can’t exactly do that against a wall, dove of mine,” he leans forward, lips brushing against my jaw in a way that leaves me chilled and melting at the same time, “At least not the first time.” 

His whisper forces my breathing to hitch, a fact that he notices with an amused look as his thumb brushes against my collar. Kirigan pulls me away from the wall easily. Even the causal touch feels electric against my skin. 

The walk towards my room is tense, his hands never leaving me as if he’s aware of how necessary it is to keep me distracted to ward off my better sense. When we reach my door, Kirigan opens it like it’s his. Entitled. Typical. 

I step into the room, his touch lingering on my arm. A brief shyness pushes itself into my chest. I had let Kirigan touch me in a public space and lead me back to my room. The door closes. I don’t turn. 

Kirigan’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “Shy, now?” His question is teasing, rekindling the fire beneath my skin as he places an open mouth kiss on my neck. He plays with the thin strap of my nightgown, pushing it off my shoulder. He kisses down my neck, collarbone, and shoulder. My inhibitions are melted away again. “When your breathing stalls like that,” his whisper is enough to elicit a desperate shudder, “I am left desperate.” 

He leans forward, mouth trailing down my chest, coming dangerously close to my breasts. The electric current of his touch is all consuming and addicting. I press my back into his chest. His hands are the opposite of shy, touching me everywhere except where I’m most desperate. Kirigan’s hand places itself between my thighs, using his thumb to tease my entrance. I let out a needy sound. And then he retracts his hand, grabbing my shoulders and turning me in one swift motion. 

“Kirigan.” 

His eyes are dark, clouded by something I don’t understand but am too aware that I reciprocate. “Tell me that I have your favor.” His words are taut, bordering on snapping. Kirigan’s grip on me tightens hard enough to bruise, an assertive need taking over him. “That you want me.”

Desire, pride, and rationality twist in my stomach, leaving me too distracted to form words. My gaze drops to the ground on instinct, something Kirigan clearly finds unacceptable because he’s quick to grab my chin and force my eyes to meet his. 

I swallow once, courage withering beneath the look in his eyes. It’s as twisted as a spindling shadow, but the look is fierce admirational, appreciation so deep I could drown in it. It scares and consols me all at once. “I want you.” There’s something pained about such powerful emotion. I loathe and am empowered by it all at once. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” The words leave my throat scorching with their sincerity. 

As soon as the words leave me, he’s closing the distance between us, the slightest exhale of tension leaving his lips before they meet mine, prepared to devour me. I reciprocate his actions on instinct alone. There is no hesitation, no space, and yet it is not enough. Not enough and yet I don’t know how to be closer. But Kirigan does. One of his hands cup my cheek, coaxing me towards him as if I could possibly have the will to leave him. He steps forward, guiding me to step back. I obey fluidly until I feel something hit the back of my legs. It’d startle me if I wasn’t so consumed by his touch.

His mouth begins to move away from my skin. I chase after him, desperate to keep him touching me. He stops me by placing a hand on my shoulder, a warning about my neediness. I pout, but as he studies me I pant. Maybe the excuse for air was a good idea. I don’t fight the uneasiness of my breathing as I hold Kirigan’s gaze. He regards me with a patience I consider unbearable, taking in the determined look in his eyes, my swollen lips, disheveled hair, and the top of my night gown that’s half falling off. 

It’s in this moment I realize how much more vulnerable than him I am. 

If Kirigan notices any shift in me, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he adjusts his hand on my cheek, his thumb brushing the hot skin gently. “You are everything.” His voice is cracking glass. “Everything that’s good, at least.” 

Maybe he did notice my initial reaction because I am no longer certain that I am the one that’s most vulnerable. “You’re better than you think.” I only say this because it would only weigh on me more to stay silent. “I see it and you don’t want me to.” 

His hand continues to stroke my cheek. “I want you to see all of me.” The heavy beating of my heart seems to stall in my chest. Kirigan drops his hand before grasping the hem of my nightgown. He pulls the fabric upwards easily, bundling the fabric above my hip. “I want you to…” He exhales flatly, pulling the fabric upwards even more. Nerves flood my stomach as he leans towards me, kissing down my jaw. “To know me,” he whispers against my throat.

I am nothing but uneven breaths as he mouth moves down my chest, stalling only once he’s reached my breasts. He pushes me forward easily, guiding me so that I’m laying on my bed. He’s quick to move over me, kissing up my neck as he adjusts so that I’m against the headboard.

When he pulls away again, I’m left pouting. He grins, fueled by my disappointment. “Don’t worry,” he breathes, fingers hooking around the waistband of my underwear before tugging it down my legs easily, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” 

Being so exposed has my doubts flooding back, but Kirigan is quick to fight against my instincts in a way only he seems capable of. He squeezes the inside of my upper thigh before leaning down, pressing his mouth onto the skin his fingers just touched. His kisses here are meant to leave me even more desperate, each nip and fleeting pass of his tongue is lazy yet intentional. I am incapable of doing else besides letting out pathetic whines. 

He ignores where I need him most, kissing up my thigh, across my lower stomach, and then down my other thigh. Kirigan continues the pattern across my skin, ignoring any pleas I swallow my pride to give. He is not rushed by my words or cries or the occasional desperate adjustment of my hips. 

Kirigan lifts his head slightly, releasing my inner thigh with an obscene ‘pop’. “Patience.” His fingers trail up my thigh and over my core, teasing my entrance with his lithe fingers. “Unless you’re ready to beg?” 

It’s a challenge, like everything else. The urge to give him my pride to satisfy the electric desire I’m not sure I’m capable of bearing. But then I note his tense hold on my thigh. A sign of restraint, of want. 

“And if I want you to beg for me?” I don’t know where the words come from, but they charge the room with potential. 

Something strange crosses his fingers before his lips tilt upwards in a dark way. “Would you like the strength of that? To have someone like me powerless before you?” My face warms. Kirigan leaves a lingering kiss on my thigh before he moves off the bed. I sigh at the loss of contact, but my tired neediness stalls at the sound of his belt coming undone. “I want to see you on your knees.” I sit up carelessly, desperate to obey him. I’m kneeling in front of him in an instant, taking in his length. The size of it has me gaping. “Open your mouth.” 

I take the order more eagerly than I should, but I make no move to take him. This is just another challenge. I keep my eyes on his as I stick my tongue out before licking the bottom of his member all the way up to his tip. The sound he lets out is pure sin. I lick his tip slowly, each motion of my tongue is strategic as I finally place him in my mouth. I hollow my cheeks, moving up and down slowly. 

The pace is not enough for him, he grips my hair from my scalp as he thrusts into my mouth. The motion is more powerful than I expected and I am left unable to breathe. My slight gag does the opposite of discourage him, he repeats the motion again and again, pushing himself into me until I can feel him in my throat. 

The sounds he lets out are a chorus to me, but it’s not enough. I need more control, I need a way to make him beg. I raise a hand, wrapping it around the base that I cannot fit into my mouth. I stroke him once slowly, making a point as I try to push myself back in order to make him want me more. 

He groans again. I make a point of pushing myself off of him. Precum protrudes his tip. I lick it off of him slowly. I lick up and down his member in the smallest way possible. 

“Y/n,” the restraint in his voice fuels my teasing, “Tease me and you’ll still be overwhelmed by want when the sun rises.” 

A pout tugs at my lips before I open my mouth again, taking Kirigan to my limit. He lets me set the pace of my bobs at first, but then he becomes desperate, holding me in place by the roots of my hair as he moans and thrusts into me without restraint. He ignores my choking as he continues until he throws his head back, letting out a quick praise of my name.

He finishes in my mouth and I swallow all he offers me greedly. I back off my knees slowly, throat burning as his member leaves my mouth. “On the bed.” He’s turned into something insatiable. “Now.” 

I move back to my bed, laying in the same position as before. He takes his time approaching me. When he finally gets to me, he kisses my thighs easily. I let out a small breath before something that’s pure pleasure meets my core. His tongue laps upwards lazily, grazing my clit but not quite touching it.  My hips thrust towards his face, but with hand he holds me down. A coil in my stomach continues to build as he angles himself more purposefully, tongue finally taking care of my clit. My gasps become less and less reasonable as he continues to lap at all that my body has to offer. The coil tightens, I see stars--and then, like cruelty personified, he pulls away. His absence leaves me ready to cry out. 

My desperation only fuels Kirigan as he lines himself with my entrance. Concern twists my stomach as I consider how full my mouth felt when he was in me. I expect some level of warning, but he thrusts into me with no warning. I let out a pathetic cry, but that means nothing to him as he pulls out just to thrust into me with full force again.

“Only I can hurt you,” he demands, thrusting into me as I call out his name. My eyes water at the sensation of such fullness, pleasure and pain combining themselves in a way that leaves me incapable of thought. “Your tears,” he muses, one hand moving to wipe at a tear rolling down my cheek, “Are mine.” 

His thrusts become more and more brutal, less and less even. Each movement of his body in mine leaves me begging for more and less at the same time. He continues until the coil in my stomach tenses to the point of breaking. 

“Kirigan,” I manage, voice far away, “I’m going t--”

“I know,” he offers, “finish with me, dove.” His hand finds my throat, adding the slightest bit of restrained pressure. “And do not hold in your cries.” 

Two more sharp thrusts have us both finishing, calling out for each other as we try to draw out the high of our orgasms together. 

We stay intertwined like that for longer than we should, but then Kirigan stands. I envy his ability to do so. I don’t call for him even though I still don’t want to be alone here. A moment later, I hear him approach. I’m too drowsy to ask what he’s doing as a damp towel is wiped against my forehead and inner thighs. 

When he’s finished cleaning me, some raw emotion settles in my chest. “Are you leaving?” 

Kirigan hesitates. “Not if you don’t want me to.” 

I roll over, the motion leaves my body aching. Kirigan accepts my invitation, crawling beneath my sheets and adjusting our bodies so that he can rest his hand on my back. 

--

Tags: @luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy 

@i-padfootblack-things

 @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @benbarnes-supremacy

@we-love-our-bandz @fire-in-her-veinz @weirdowithnobeardo @bvudzsoo @kaque @ponyboys-sunsets @coldlilheart @granillx @dreamohlittledreamofme @sanna2020 @zaynzierulez 

@ive-died-everday-waiting-for-you @xxaerynxx @ralesera @tea-effect 

@tranquillitymoon

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   pairing: eren x reader

♡   —   tags/warnings: mentions of cheating and alcohol. side aruani and yumihisu. honestly just a feel-good fic, with humour and fluff <3

♡   —   a/n:  honestly, this is the most “romantic comedy” fic i’ve ever written and i love it <3 shout out to @ofoceansandtombstones​ that beta read this one mwah thank u

♡   —   masterlist

There was an ill taste in your mouth that wouldn’t go away, no matter how many drinks you had. And you already had more than a few. From your spot on the table, you could see your friends dancing and having the time of their lives. You really wished you could join them. Nevertheless, you had wasted all your energy forcing a smile and clapping along during the ceremony. Once you had arrived at the hotel reception with the rest of the guests, you had slid a bill to a kind waitress and told her to keep the drinks coming. 

Ymir and Historia were dancing in front of you. Stoic, sour-faced Ymir couldn’t help but smile as her sweet girlfriend twirled and giggled, her cheeks red and eyes just the tiniest bit unfocused. Next to them, Sasha, Jean and Connie were owning the dance floor, moving in sync to the happy music. A grin formed on your face as you saw Connie lifting Sasha up and her almost falling to the floor. Jean was holding his stomach as he laughed loudly.

On a nearby table, Mikasa looked over at them, a small smile on his lips. She was sitting next to her girlfriend, who was holding her hand as they watched their friends dance. You saw her girlfriend leaning over to her and whispering something in her ear, to which she chuckled. It was so strange -and so beautiful- to see Mikasa laugh that it took you aback. And apparently, also the girl she was with, because her lips slightly parted as she watched her in awe.

“How’s the party animal doing?”

You looked up and saw Eren staring down at you with a funny expression. He was wearing black dress pants and a white shirt. The first two buttons were undone, and he was carrying his suit jacket over his shoulder and a beer on his other hand.

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye out for everyone,” you replied with a shrug. Eren scoffed and took the seat next to you on the empty table, leaving his jacket on the nearest chair.

“I mean, I know attending your ex’s wedding isn’t bound to be a good time, but you’d think you would try to put on a happy face.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hey, at least I’m here.”

“After Mikasa tried her best to convince you during a whole week,” he said. You turned your head to Eren, eyes wide open. “What? Of course she told me.”

“That little… That’s it, I’m going to tell her girlfriend about that one time Mikasa got drunk with us,” you muttered angrily, standing up. Eren was quicker and pulled you back to your seat.

“You and Armin broke up a year ago. Why are you so upset he’s moving on?”

Before you could answer, the music stopped and the dance floor erupted in applause. Eren and you watched as Armin and Annie walked in between their guests, greeting everyone as they made their way to the bride and groom table, covered with a pearl cloth and decorated with the finest flowers. Every detail screamed elegance and you knew Armin had been the one to decide most of it. It had his taste written in every napkin and strategically placed flower.

Armin’s smile was almost too big for his face and if you had to guess, those small red marks on the external corner of his eyes meant he had been crying just a few minutes ago. You rolled your eyes. So sentimental. On the other hand, Annie’s smile was far less noticeable, but for someone who always repressed her public displays of emotions as much, that little smile must have felt heavenly to her new husband.

Husband. You took a big gulp of your drink.

“I’m telling you this because I care for you,” Eren said, redirecting your attention to him. “You’re looking like a petty ex.”

“Rather be petty than a cheater,” you shrugged, finishing your drink. You gestured to the waitress and she immediately walked to you, handing you a full glass. Thanking her, you wasted no time in taking a sip.

Eren’s eyebrows were deeply furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Armin never told you why we broke up, right?”

Eren scooted his chair closer to you and you bit back a laugh.

“He said you just weren’t good together,” he said, trying to remember his friend’s words. “And you said something similar when I asked you back then. Where does this ‘cheating’ thing come from?”

You let out a long sigh. “Maybe it wasn’t cheating. Not by definition, at least. But when your boyfriend starts dating someone else a week after you broke up a two-year-long relationship and he gets engaged four months later… you draw your own conclusions,” you explained, taking another sip of your drink and making a grimace. “Fuck, this one’s strong.”

After not getting a response from Eren for a long moment, you finally turned to look for his emerald eyes. You could almost see the numbers flying around his mind, trying to make sense of everything you had just told him. It was endearing.

“Wait, no-- wait,” Eren gestured at you with his hand. He stopped himself again and took a sip of his beer. “The first time Armin told me about Annie was in February. I remember it clearly. We were shopping for Mikasa’s birthday gift and then he went to pick something for Annie. And you guys broke up around Halloween, that’s the time I found you crying-- in Jean's backyard during our costume party.”

“We had a big fight at that party. We hadn’t broken up,” you clarified with a smirk. “He broke up with me after Mikasa’s birthday party. The same party he convinced me not to attend.”

Eren’s face dropped once all the pieces clicked together. He turned his body to look at the bride and groom table, where Armin and Annie were taking a sip of their champagne glasses and talking to each other enthusiastically, while the rest of their guests kept dancing.

“That son of a bitch,” he breathed out. You burst out laughing at his reaction. “No, I mean it! I really thought you had broken up during that Halloween party! You didn’t upload any more photos together, I don’t even remember even seeing you together--”

“I told you, we were fighting and… not in the mood for photos or public dates. Most of those months were spent at his apartment, fighting over really, really stupid things or just not texting each other for days,” you explained. “Honestly, when he broke up with me he made the decision I was too afraid to take. He was right, we weren’t good for each other anymore. But... fuck,” you chuckled icily. “I wish he would have broken up with me before getting with Annie.”

Eren listened in silence, his eyes still on his friend. You gave him time as you kept drinking, your gaze drifting to your friends again. You really wished you could have the energy to join them and forget Armin and Annie. It was true you didn’t love him anymore, yet seeing them together only made you remember how you had been fooled by someone you thought loved you the most.

You had had many dates ever since, but no one ever stuck. It was fun, getting someone’s attention for a couple of weeks, but then you couldn’t help but ghost them, putting up shitty excuses like wanting to focus on yourself and not having enough time to spare with them. You had lost so many amazing opportunities with both boys and girls that a couple of months ago you had decided to stop dating at all. It was lonely for sure, but at least you didn’t find yourself feeling guilty for not being able to open yourself up emotionally for someone else.

“Want to get back at him?”

You turned to Eren so fast you almost hurt your neck.

“What?”

“I have an idea. Just play along,” he explained, standing up.

“Eren, hey, what are you--”

“Everybody! If you could give me a minute please!”

You watched horrified as your friends started turning to you and Eren, confused at the commotion. Eren kept waving his hand, gathering more and more people’s attention, Armin and Annie included. He even gestured to the DJ to lower the music and she complied. In a few seconds, all the guests of the party were looking at you, who was still sitting down with a confused expression, a drink in your hand. Once he deemed enough people were looking at him, you saw him fumbling with his hands nervously.

“Eren,” you called for him again in a whisper, but all he did was take the drink you had in your hands and put it on the table.

“Sorry for interrupting, I know a lot of you were having a lot of fun dancing. But all I’m asking is one minute of your time. I hope that’s okay with you guys,” he grinned back to the bride and groom table, where they were as confused as all the guests around. “I have something really important to say.”

“Eren, no, you can’t tell them about--”

“No, no, give me a moment,” he hushed you again. The DJ walked to both of you and handed an inalambric microphone to Eren.

You didn’t like how devilish his smile turned.

“Great, thanks, this is much better,” he told the DJ, who just kindly smiled at him. “Anyway, I don’t want to take much of the bride and groom’s time, so I’ll try to be concise. The thing is…” he said, turning to face you. “I love you.”

Your mouth flew open as you heard multiple gasps coming from the guests. Yet, you couldn’t bother with looking anywhere but Eren’s eyes. What was he doing? Since when did he have feelings for you? If he wanted to say something, he could have easily said something a few minutes ago, when--

Just play along.

Oh.

Your questioning glare turned into a big smile and you noticed Eren softly nodding at you.

“You already know how much I love you. Honestly, I never get tired of telling you so. And hiding our love from our friends has probably been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Sorry about that, Mikasa,” he said, gesturing to the woman.

You could imagine your friend’s dumbfounded face, but you knew better than to turn and check for yourself. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold in your laughter.

“So I’m here in front of all our friends and some other guests I don’t know to ask a simple question.”

In a swift movement, Eren got down on one knee. Your hand flew to cover your mouth, trying your best to hide any trace of laughing on your face. The flash of the cameras startled you for a moment, but that only meant Eren’s plan was working. The excited murmurs and squeals only fueled Eren, as he pulled up a ring and showed it to you. You immediately recognized it as one of the rings he had been wearing a few moments ago. 

“Would you marry me?”

A huge, honest grin made its way to your face and you nodded quickly. You grabbed the microphone Eren was holding and spoke right into it.

“Yes, I’ll marry you!”

You hadn’t listened to a crowd erupting in applause and cheers as loud as the guests at Armin’s wedding when Eren slid his ring on your finger. Once again, the flash of the cameras were right into the both of you as you leaped into his arms. He stood up while holding your body close to him, even giving you a small spin and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

When he finally put you down, the music resumed and all your friends began running to the both of you.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you whispered to Eren, holding his face between your hands. He laughed.

“Kinda ruined the reception, huh?”

“When the fuck did this happen?” Jean inquired as soon as he reached you.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell us?” Sasha whined, with a small pout. “But congratulations!” she quickly followed, hugging you tightly. As you hugged her back, you felt someone taking the hand that was now wearing Eren’s ring.

“This is one of your rings,” she noted, shooting Eren a dirty glance. He lifted his hands in surrender.

“Hey, I didn’t plan this! But I will get her a prettier one soon,” he said, winking at you. You laughed and shook your head.

“Nah, I like this one,” you replied. You shared a knowing grin and soon it was Connie’s turn to hug you.

While you were hugging your friend back, you saw in the corner of your eye Armin getting up from the table and starting to walk to both of you. Your smile immediately vanished from your face and once Eren caught it and followed your eye trail, he understood the reason why. You heard him mutter a curse before he pulled you from Connie’s embrace.

“Well, we’d love to stay, but my fiancée and I want some time alone.”

“C’mon, you haven’t told us yet how you got together!” Sasha complained.

“Next time, we promise,” you hurriedly assured her.

Eren picked his suit jacket from the table and before Armin could reach your group, you quickly walked away, exiting the hotel. Eren whistled to a taxi and you jumped inside, telling the man behind the wheel to drive. Loud laughter filled the vehicle as soon as it began moving.

“How-- how did you even have this idea?” you asked him, holding your stomach as you laughed. “Dude, Armin looked so upset, we totally stole his thunder.”

“That was the plan,” Eren shrugged, a winning smirk on his lips. “Knowing the gang, everybody’s going to be talking about us and the engagement for the rest of the party.”

“Remind me to never have you as an enemy,” you chuckled, leaning back on the car seat. Letting out a long sigh, you took off Eren’s ring and handed it to him.

He shook his head. “Nah, keep it. As a souvenir of today,” he winked.

“Thank you,” you smiled. You put the ring on your thumb this time, since it was too big for your ring finger anyway. “You didn’t have to do this at all, and yet--”

“It’s okay,” he assured you.

“No, really. It’s just-- I’ve been having a tough time since the breakup,” you admitted. “To have you doing this for me means a lot. Makes me feel someone really cares for me. I never said anything to anyone back then because Annie is also a part of the group and I thought…”

Eren leaned his head towards you.

“You thought…?”

“I thought you would pick her too. It’s stupid, I know,” you shrugged, turning your head to Eren. “But Armin had just broken up with me and a week later he was already in public with Annie. Back then, I thought everyone knew we had just broken up and if no one had said anything was because they didn’t care. So I just… stopped hanging out with all of you as much as I did before.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” he muttered.

“You did?”

Eren nodded. “That’s why I asked Mikasa to pressure you into coming to the wedding. I hadn’t seen you in a while.”

“You could have just asked me to hang out, you know,” you teased him. Eren chuckled, pushing some of his loose hairs behind his ear.

“I think we know by now I don’t take the conventional route.”

“Yeah, all of the guests know that too,” you quipped, making both of you laugh.

This time, when the laughter came to an end, you realized how close your faces were. Your noses were almost brushing as you both were lying your heads on the back of the car seat. You looked into Eren’s emerald eyes and noticed he wasn’t looking away from yours either. Was it the alcohol that made his cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink? If it was, then you could say the warmth crawling up your face was its fault too. It had to be the alcohol, or else, you would have to also ponder about the reason your heart was beating out of your chest at having your friend so close to you. He was handsome, he had always been and you knew this. But why were you losing all your composure just now?

A brief look at Eren's lips gave your thoughts away and, in less than two seconds, he was pressing his lips against yours.

For a spur-of-the-moment kiss, as you thought this one was, it was rather soft. Eren kissed you as if he thought you were the most expensive and fragile thing he had ever seen. But of course, this was just a product of the adrenaline and the fact that -as far as you knew- he hadn’t been dating anyone as well, right?

Your small theory crashed and burnt when you felt his hand softly cradling the side of your face. No. This wasn’t an adrenaline kiss, neither one that you gave without a thought. Maybe it had been unprompted and maybe you hadn’t seen it coming, but it sure as hell seemed he did. Eren’s lips gilded against your with ease, revealing a soft tenderness you didn’t know he possessed. You kissed him back, matching his rhythm as you softly pressed your hand against his chest.

Eren pulled away from you softly, and if his longing eyes were any indicator, a bit reluctantly.

“Hi,” he breathed out, making you grin widely.

“Hi,” you replied. You gently caressed his cheek with the knuckles of the hand that was previously resting on his chest. Eren took it and kissed your palm, making your heart flutter.

“Sorry to interrupt kids, but where are we heading?”

The voice of the taxi driver startled you, making you pull away from Eren. He chuckled at your reaction and then looked back at the man.

“Take us to that pizza place near the central park. Gotta have a celebratory dinner with my fiancée,” he said cheekily, taking your hand into his. You squeezed his hand back, his ring digging a little on your skin.

“So young and engaged already? Congrats!” the driver said, turning left and heading towards the direction Eren had given him.

“Thank you!” you smiled brightly at Eren while he took your joint hands to his mouth and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

A part of you knew you weren’t taking that ring off anytime soon.

[kookieskiwi]

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Shuntaro Chishiya x Fem!Reader x Suguru Niragi

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. You were the Queen.

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

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

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

“One minute remaining”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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