#why would you put yourself in that situation

[agentblizz]

!!my thing!!

everyone please ask your ttrpg friends about ttrpg regularly, or else we fucking die

gonna go over how this would work as specified in the original post and then break down the subclass as a whole, tl;dr at the end

So Wizards take a subclass at level 2, as opposed to the most common level 3, which means that you're going to be even more squishy than the average participant if you spin a Wizard, but War Magic is a great counterbalance for the Wizards historical ragdollability.

War Magic is described as, at its core, a hybridization of Abjuration and Evocation, which essentially boil down to defensive magic and offensive spellblasting, respectively. a War Mage focuses on bolstering themselves early on to ensure they can keep a continuous stream of high damage throughout an encounter.

Intelligence is a Wizards primary stat, which is why the War Mages level 2 feature Tactical Wit is especially helpful. When rolling initiative, a War Mage may add their Intelligence bonus to their initiative roll. Great feature (as long as you don't roll like ass), ensures you can throw up some defenses before an enemy would have the opportunity to attack you.

Their other level 2 feature, Arcane Deflection, is slightly less useful but still a great asset in a tough spot, with one major drawback. when a War Mage is attacked or forced to make a saving throw, they can use their reaction to add a bonus to their armor class. Arcane Deflection grants a +2 to AC against an attack roll and/or a +4 to a saving throw. Ideally saved for saving throws, as it's a better bonus and you would have presumably already cast Shield by now, but that +2 could be the difference between life and death (In fact it most likely will be, as you likely have 14-16 HP as of level two). The drawback of using this feature, however, besides the obvious expense of your reaction, is that until the end of your next turn, you cannot use leveled spells, only cantrips. This is a pretty flat ability at level 2 as with limited spell slots you would be relying on cantrips pretty heavily, but at higher levels when you need to spend some slots to keep up with your party, it could be detrimental. The ideal situation to use this feature in would be when you are already out of spell slots, as you receive no penalty and you don't have the option to cast a reaction spell instead of using this feature.

Throwing defined mechanics out the window in favor of the in-universe feel and use of the subclass, a War Mage is always trying to get the jump on an opponent. The typical strategy is to throw up a Shield or comparable spell and start blasting. War Mages are usually highly trained, respected individuals who would have no need to hide their power, and even if they did, a wizard does not need to perform magic to live, so you could easily hide yourself by simply not using your powers. It would be, IMO, a pretty ideal setup.

Ok now we talk about the rest of the subclass cuz they're rlly interesting!!

At level 6 the War Magic Wizard unlocks a feature called Power Surge, a pool of charges (aptly called "Power Surges") that can be used to deal some free extra damage. Once per turn when they deal damage to a creature with a spell from the wizard spell list, a War Mage can expend a Power Surge to deal additional force damage equal to half of their wizard level. at the time you get this feature that's only 3 damage and it doesn't get much better, scaling to a maximum of 10 if you put all 20 levels in wizard. The reason this isn't completely useless is that Power Surges are incredibly easy to generate, and the feature itself requires no use of action economy. A War Mage can store a number of Power Surges equal to their Intelligence modifier with a minimum of one. You gain one Power Surge whenever you successfully end a spell using Dispel Magic or Counterspell, as you siphon the lingering magic from the spell you end. When you complete a short rest with zero Power Surges, you gain one. When you complete a long rest, your Power Surges are reset to one automatically.

At level 10 they unlock Durable Magic, which grants them a +2 bonus to AC and all saving throws when maintaining concentration on a spell. This incentivizes a War Mage to always keep a concentration spell going, ideally something defensive to maximize protection.

And finally at 14th level a War Mage acquires their final feature, Deflecting Shroud. A majorly needed upgrade to Arcane Deflection, when you activate Arcane Deflection as a reaction you automatically deal force damage equal to half your Wizard level to up to three creatures you can see within 60 feet.

War Mages have a lot more self-defense options than other Wizards, but they still have a low health pool, and benefit majorly from martial support.

tl;dr much safer a position to be in than most wizards but still pretty squishy, if you stick to civilian life or keep an escort of tanky adventurers you'll be fine. Plus magic is pretty convenient even when you're not out doing shit, and having no patron or sorcerous genetics means no drawbacks to using it besides maybe being a little tired.

Spin this dang wheel of every 5e subclass. You are hit by a truck and end up on the Sword Coast as that class, at the level you select that subclass.

[bluebirdsfeathers]

Her Intern

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Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader

Summary: You get a look into what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Wanda’s temper, but she could never be mad at you.

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: age gap relationship (R is early 20s, W is like 40), mention of stocks, Yelling if that stresses you out.

A/N: Wanted this to be longer but I’m starting class again on Monday and I’ve had way more work to do than I thought. Hope you enjoy this. I’ve tagged everyone who asked, if you want to be tagged in the next chapter, let me know.

Inspiration

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

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The silence in the room made every minuet feel like an eternity. No one dared to speak. You could feel your pulse rise as the clock hand inched closer to the number nine. This morning you had gotten ready on auto piolet, showered and once again put on your wrinkled shirt. You hadn’t bothered investing in any new clothing since you began working with Pietro. The lack of dress code made you feel like it wasn’t necessary, so this was still your most professional shirt. It was the same one you’d worn your first day here, now you worried this would be your last.

Sleep hadn’t come fast last night. You’d stayed up for hours running possible situations and outcomes, planning what you’d say for each one in excruciating detail. But by the time morning came all those preparations were gone from your mind. The only thing you could focus on was the memory of Wanda catching you in her office.

She looked so angry.

You blinked away the sting in your eyes and nose, not wanting to cry, not now at least. That could Wait till after the meeting, when you could lock yourself in the bathroom away from prying eyes.

The clock reached nine and the doors to the conference room flung open, Wanda entered leaving the door to slam shut behind her. Everyone in the room sat up straight and turned their attention to the red head, everyone but you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look, instead keeping your head down hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

“Good morning,” Wanda began as she retrieved some papers from her briefcase, “I know I’m taking you away from your work, but I wouldn’t have called this meeting if there wasn’t something important that needs to be discussed.” Her tone was polite, but anger was bubbling underneath. As she finished speaking her eyes scanned the room, eventually landing on you. Wanda faced twitched with annoyance at fact you weren’t looking at her. She cleared her thought before continuing. “Once I have everyone’s attention, I’ll tell you why you’re all here, or better why one of you isn’t.”

You took the hint and slowly raised your head, not expecting to find Wanda staring directly at you, stern eyes softening for a moment before hardening back over. Her words finally reached your brain, and you glanced quickly around table, the other interns seemingly doing the same.

Theo.

Theo wasn’t there. He hadn’t come in with Wanda, which was strange considering how he’d normally be following her around like a lost dog.

“I expect you to already know this, but Westview Paper is the most trusted news sources in the country,” Wanda paced at the front of the room, her voice and posture portraying nothing but power. “We take pride in being able to provide the American public with honest unbiased reporting. So what do you think might happen if an employee threatened that reputation?” She was now stood directly behind you; the room fell so silent you could hear your heart as it raced.

“They would be fired.” The silence was broken by an intern sat across from you. Despite his suit probably being worth more than you all make a month, fit him like a kid playing dress up in his days wardrobe, and he looked like he’d just been caught. Wanda let his words hang in the air for an uncomfortably long time.

“Yes, thank you Jake. They would be fired.” As Wanda moved back to the front of the room her fingers ghosted the nape of your neck, something so innocuous it could have easily been an accident. “Theo had gone behind my back, fed information about stories we were publishing to outsiders, and all to boost his stock portfolio.” Her voice dripped with distain. “He is no longer working here, in fact, he will no longer be working for any publisher this side of the Atlantic Ocean.” She gave her words time to breath, making sure we all understood the gravity of the situation. Your mind went back to yesterday, standing in her office when she came out angrily yelling down the phone, that’s what she was talking about.

“Now I called this meeting as a warning to all of you. You aren’t children anymore, this is the real world, your actions have consequences that go far beyond timeouts, or early bedtimes. So if any of you even think about trying anything that will tarnish the reputation of this organization, I want you to really consider what it means to throw your life away! A life that, I might add, for most in here was handed to them. Dismissed.” With every sentence her voice grew louder, the anger finally bubbling over as she slammed her fits onto the table.

There was a mad scramble for the door as everyone collected their things and piled out the room.

“Y/n, I want to have a word with you.” Wanda called out with a lingering trace of rage. The other interns turned to look at you as you awkwardly shuffled back from the door. Your anxiety was already high and now you truly felt like you were going to combust. It took a moment for the room to clear but once it had, and the door closed you jumped into speech.

“Ms Maximoff, I’m so sorry, Pietro said it was okay, not that it’s his fault, I should have never invaded your privacy like that.” The word vomit just kept coming. “I was just meant to drop off the magazine and leave, I shouldn’t have stayed as long as I did. I’m so sorry, I understand if you want to fire me.” With those last words your lip wobbled, and you could do nothing to stop the tears.

Wanda, who up until now had been watching you ramble with slight bewilderment, moved to comfort you. “Y/n. I’m not going to fire you, don’t be silly,” she shushed, placing a hand on your shoulder and motioning for you to sit down, “quite the opposite actually.” You sat down trying your hardest to steady your breathing. “What do you mean?” You asked, wiping your nose with your sleeve before Wanda instinctively handed you a tissue from the box on the table.

“First, I wanted to ask if you were okay.” She leaned in placing a gentle hand on your knee. “Yesterday, in my office, you left so quickly. I was worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?”

“Yes, y/n! I was because…” Wanda stopped herself and leaned back in her chair. “Because you are my employee, and I think you have a promising future here at Westview.” You go to speak but Wanda continues, “Which is why secondly, I wanted to ask if you would be interested in taking over as my intern. I can give you some time to think about…”

“Yes!” You blurted out a little louder than expected, your cheeks flushed as you saw Wanda’s shocked expression. “I mean yes Ms… I would… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. It’s just… are you sure you want me?” Before you could start to spiral again, you were brought back to reality by the sound of Wanda giggling.

“I’ve wanted you from the start.” She stood up and began walking to the conference room’s door. “For the position of course.” She added before leaving.

As you sat alone in the room you couldn’t help it as a smile crept across your face. You were going to be her intern! Then the reality of the situation hit you. You were going to be her intern.

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Tag list: @wandaslittlehorns @starfire1008 @mirage018 @viosblog112 @nebthetautora @ciaoooooo111 @cowboy-hunter

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Tell Me a Lie

Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 4617

Summary: Months of hell lead you to one moment- finding out your boyfriend is really alive. After figuring out where he’s been hiding, you concoct a plan- a very stupid, very dangerous plan- to draw him out. 

Notes: This is a terrible summary, but whatever. I finally started season three and I thought putting the reader in this situation would be really interesting. Obviously, his relationship with Elektra wasn’t the same, but the whole self-destructive Matthew is here and ready for angst. I’m imagining this kinda between the episodes where Matt goes to the hotel and the prison, but doesn’t really follow the plot of the episodes, just my own. This is also just a mess, but oh well. (And I know this is kind of what Bella does in New Moon, but I kind of dig it so I won’t apologize haha)

Warnings: Attempted assault, violence, abandonment, alcoholism literally looking for danger (obviously, spoilers for season three)

More Matt Imagines: HERE

-

It didn’t smell like him anymore. Such a weird, stupid complaint, but it made you sick to your stomach to breathe in the musty air of the apartment. 

You sat up, nursing your head in your hand, still pounding from the night before. Not that you’d slept, but hangovers still found a way to bite you in the ass. It was getting pathetic. Not that you cared. And not that your friends had actually used that word. 

‘Concerning’ was Foggy’s favorite. 

He could have his concern. 

You chased the numb. 

Anything was better than remembering he wasn’t here and the apartment you’d just started to share didn’t smell like him anymore. 

You got out of bed on shaking limbs, feeling the nausea roll over you. You swayed, wondering if you’d throw up again. You didn’t. 

You went to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee to pull you out of the haze. Karen and Foggy were coming by today to talk about rent. You had to seem at least somewhat put together or they would try and talk you into getting help. Getting help meant moving on. Moving on meant giving up. Giving up meant lying to yourself. Admitting that he was dead and he wasn’t coming back. 

But Matt Murdock wasn’t dead. 

You could feel it. 

The pounding at the door felt like knocking on your skull. You groaned. 

Foggy stepped inside. 

“Morning,” he greeted with his usual chipper smile. 

You didn’t understand it. How he could still seem so happy after everything that happened. Then again, things went rather well for him after…

You shook the thoughts from your head. This wasn’t Foggy’s fault. 

“Hey,” you croaked. You took a long, burning drink from your caffeinated cup and let its effects wash over you. “I thought you two were coming together?” 

“Karen had… other stuff.” Foggy peaked around the corner, plastering a smile across his face. He figured he’d ease into the news. Especially because you looked- well- you looked the way you usually did these past few weeks. “But she says hi.” 

You nodded and took another drink. “Coffee?” 

“I already had some, thanks.” 

He stood silently. 

You stood silently. You raised a brow. “You can sit down, Foggy.” 

“Right. Thanks.” He nodded awkwardly and took a seat on the couch. So much for playing it cool. 

You set your mug to the side and leaned on the counter, fingers gripping the edge like a lifeline. 

“What happened, Foggy?” You stared at the back of his head and felt that familiar squeezing, wrenching breathlessness in your chest. The same feeling when Claire dragged you out of Midland Circle. The same feeling when you watched the building fall. The same feeling when Matt didn’t walk out. “Is it… is it Matt? Did they find him?” 

“No, it’s not about-” He blew out a sigh. “God, you haven’t seen the news then?” 

You hurried around to stand in front of him, panic still evident in your exhausted eyes.

Foggy had to look away. 

“Why, what’s on the news?” 

He gulped. “Maybe you should sit down.” 

“Just tell me what happened,” you scoffed. The sound came out as a nervous laugh, but on the inside, you were screaming. 

His blue eyes met yours. 

“Wilson Fisk made a deal with the feds. He’s out of prison.” 

You blinked. The crushing in your chest was replaced by your heart stopping. 

“What?” You choked out. Of all the things you were expected to hear, Fisk’s name wasn’t one of them. 

“Well, not out exactly. He’s apparently giving them information that’s made him a target in his old prison so they’re keeping him in a cushy penthouse for ‘safety purposes.’” He spat each word out. 

You put a hand on the back of the chair for support. “Fisk is free?” 

“Like I said, he isn’t free, but-”

You held up a hand to stop him.“Where’s this hotel?” 

-

The courtyard was absolute mayhem. Reporters scurried in every direction, each harassing a different agent for information they wouldn’t get. Matt dodged in between them. The noise made his still recovering head pound, but he could still pick out enough to get through. He ducked his head when he heard Karen’s voice, a small moment of panic almost making him turn around. 

He kept moving. 

The crowds didn’t surprise you. And neither did seeing the familiar blonde head weaving through the groups with determined strides. You hurried after her, almost bumping into the man in front of you, but he stepped out of the way just in time. 

“Karen!” You called. 

Gold strands whipped around. Her clear blue stare cut through the crowd. 

“Y/N?” She said, pushing through to you. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“So it’s true.” You tilted your head to the top of the building, its windows reflecting the sun in blinding brightness. “Wilson Fisk is up there?” 

She sighed. “Foggy told you then?” 

“If you’re planning on an ‘it isn’t safe for you to be here’ speech, save it,” you snapped. “I could tell you the same thing.” 

She bit her cheek, looked you over, and determined you looked sober enough. “Alright, follow me.” 

Matt couldn’t move. He tried to force his feet forward, but the heavy beating of his heart filled his ears and made it impossible to navigate the space around him. 

Your voice. Your scent. Even your heartbeat stood out amongst the dozens of people there. And for a moment, just a moment, he wanted to turn around. 

“Promise me we’ll go on that trip we talked about, yeah?” You laughed, though the air was salty with your tears and your voice shook. He kissed your lips for the last time.

“I promise.” 

But that wasn’t what haunted Matt for the last few months. Your sweet words of promise and hope stung, but they weren’t what kept him from going to you. Your screams were. 

“Let me go! Matt! No! Matty! I won’t leave him! Matt!” Even with countless floors between, Matt could hear your gut-wrenching screams as the others dragged you out of the building just before it blew. “Matt! Please! Matt!”

“Matt?” 

It took him a moment to realize that your voice now wasn’t from his memory. It was now.

You’d seen him. But judging by the direction, there was a chance you hadn’t seen his face. He could ignore you and chances were, you’d think you were crazy. Just another offense he’d committed against you. 

He wanted to turn around, to hold you and kiss your lips again and tell you he was okay and everything was going to be okay. That he was still your Matt. 

But the man you fell in love with was gone. He was buried under Midland Circle. 

Matt kept walking. 

-

You’d seen him. As crazy as it was, you knew it was him. He’d heard you. He must have because he stopped- just for a second, but he stopped. Karen may not have believed you, though you could tell she wanted to, but it didn’t matter. 

It was Matt. 

Somehow, it didn’t make any sense but it all made sense at the same time. He was going after Fisk. Of course, he was. Not even the grave couldn't stop your Matt from protecting his city. From protecting you. 

What you didn’t understand is why he kept walking. He acted like you weren’t there, but he of all people couldn’t have simply not noticed you. He’d left you there on purpose. 

He’d left you.

You paced the apartment with your hands raking through your hair with one question on your mind. 

Why? 

Sure, Matt would always use the excuse of protecting you before, but this time felt different. Had you done something? Had you not done enough at Midland Circle? What happened to him? 

Was it your fault?

The explosion was your idea and it buried him. Did he blame you as much as you blamed yourself?

Your feet halted in front of the closet door. Behind the door was a box. Inside the box was the emptiness that haunted your every waking moment for the past you didn’t even know how many days anymore. Your fingers clutched at the neck of the bottle on the table. The drink burned. 

None of it mattered. ‘Why’ didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was out there and he left you and as the burn raced down your throat you knew what you needed to do. 

And you knew where he might be.

-

The gentleness of your touch eased the sting of the disinfectant as you dabbed it on his wounds. It wasn’t the first night he’d come back cut and beaten, but you didn’t let your worry deter your movements. He came back. That’s what mattered. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, your voice as soft as your motions. You touched a particularly sore spot and he winced. As you went to draw your hand away, he caught it in his, fingers grasping at yours, still clenched around the towel. 

“Can we just… sit for a while?” He breathed. 

You nodded. He wiped away any blood remaining on his skin and set the towel aside. His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you to his chest. He listened to your heartbeat. You listened to his. 

Matt remembered the woman he’d come across earlier that night. Two men had jumped her. They were going to take what they wanted and leave her for dead. He’d taken his time beating them senseless while she got away. But her screams still echoed through his head. 

He tensed beneath you and you looked up at him through your lashes. 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing.”

You sat up. “Matt.” 

“It’s nothing,” he managed a laugh. “Really. Just come here.” He coaxed you back to him, but the tension was still there. He breathed in your presence and let out a low sigh. His arms tightened around you. “I’d never let anything happen to you.” His tone was different. Almost afraid. 

You drew lines on his chest. “I know.” 

“And I’d never hurt you, or at least mean to, anyway, but I know that I have and I’m-”

“Matty.” You crawled up so you were beside him, taking his face in your hands. “All I ask is that you come home at the end of the night.” You kissed his cheek. “In one piece, preferably.” He chuckled and you pressed your lips to his. You whispered in between kisses. “Just come home.” 

-

He talked about this place sometimes. Not often. Getting Matt to open up about his childhood was like pulling teeth, but in those last few months together, he’d started to trust you enough to let you in. 

This felt like a betrayal of that. Using your knowledge to expose him. To confront him for leaving you behind. A sober you might have thought of that. But the whiskey-fueled your anger, the rum your despair, and everything else blocked out any logical thought. 

What was the word Foggy used? 

Right. 

Concerning.

“Alright, Matthew,” you called out. Your voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper as you tried to hold back sobs. The wind stung the streaks of tears on your cheeks, but the more you tried to wipe them away, the more they fell. You took a drink. “This is it. Now or never.” 

You waited. You gave him a chance to stop you. 

“You always said you would never let anything happen to me, right? That you’d never hurt me.” You held your arms out at your sides. “Well, here we are, you goddamn liar!” Your voice echoed through the street. He would have been able to hear you for blocks, but standing just outside his damn door had to be good enough. “Come out, Matt!”

“Dude, check out this crazy bitch,” a voice said from behind you. 

Your stomach flipped. You swallowed the nervous bile in your throat. This was part of the plan. Sure, you thought you’d have to do a little more seeking, but this worked even better. There was only one way your tangled-up mind could figure that would get Daredevil to come out to play. You just hoped he would bring your Matt with him. 

You turned around. Two men stood in front of you, both of them with eyes scanning your body and lips forming smirks. Oh yeah. They were perfect. 

“What did you just say to me?” You tried to make your voice sound more confident than you actually felt. You wanted their anger, not their pity. 

“Hey, no need to be like that, I was just kidding,” the taller one said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. “I was just about to tell my buddy that you look a little lost.”

“Yeah, maybe she could use our help,” his friend agreed. “Do you want our help?” From the sound of his tone ‘help’ was the last thing he was offering. 

They both stepped towards you. 

And then a thought broke through your intoxicated, reckless mind. 

What if Matt really was dead?

It made you freeze. It almost made you sober. 

What if you just saw some guy that looked like him? What if you’d imagined it all together? What if all this time you’d been hoping- hell, even praying- that he would come back and he was still down there, at the bottom of Midland Circle, crushed and bloody and… gone? 

The men took another step forward, looking equally confused as they were intrigued. 

What if there was no one around to save you?

You held your head high. 

You hoped they’d kill you.

Either way, at least you would know. 

“You alright there, sweetheart?” The tall one asked. Sweetheart. The word stung. It belonged to someone else. 

You didn’t say anything and just started swinging. Fist to teeth, then foot against knee, you actually managed to do some damage before the friend grabbed your arms from behind. You stomped on his foot as hard as you could. Just because this was part of your plan didn’t mean you were going to make it easy for them. It had to at least look like you tried. For Foggy and Karen. 

The thought of the two of them threw you off. It made you blink, which allowed the lead prick to get a hold of your hair and use it to throw you to the ground. 

“You wanna play it that way, fine,” he growled. 

“Hair pulling?” You sneered up at him. “What, did your little sister teach you that move?” 

“Mouthy little bitch.” He brought his heel down on your head. Hard. It probably should have knocked you out, but you could still see through blurred vision with darkness around the edges. They started to walk away. 

“W-wait,” you said. The feet at the edge of your vision stopped. “Wait, come here.” You beckoned him to you with your hand. He crouched down. “Is that all you’ve got, pussy?” 

The hit came faster than you prepared for, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He kicked. And kicked. And kicked. Blood filled your mouth. You thought you heard a knife click open, but then everything went silent. 

And there was only one pair of feet.

A grunt. A thud. A body hitting the pavement. 

“What the…” Your main assailant gasped.  

You blinked, trying to see what was going on.

“Hey, man, she started it, I swear.” Another grunt. Another thud. Another body hit the pavement. 

A masked face appeared over yours.  

You smiled through the pain. “I knew it.” 

He took off the black band, revealing his panicked face. It was the last thing you saw before the darkness in your head took over. 

-

Matt carried you downstairs, every sense tuned into the creaking of your broken ribs, the smell of the blood leaking from your lips, your head, your nose. He focused on the sound of your heart. It was still beating. 

It was still beating.

“Sister!” He called. 

Sister Maggie, in all her wise-cracking wisdom, had known to be there. Matt didn’t know how, but not for the first time he was grateful for her presence. She helped without him having to ask. 

“Is she breathing?” She asked. 

“Barely. Her ribs are broken. I-I can’t tell how hard she hit her head.” He laid you on the bed, still listening to the semi-steady thump thump, thump thump. 

“Who is she?” 

He didn’t answer. Instead, his hands roamed your features, the gentle curve of your cheek now split with a bleeding gash. He ran a finger over your lips. As if to confirm it was really you. He had to feel, had to know. Know that this was his fault. Your words echoed in his head. 

You’d never hurt me.

You goddamn liar. 

You were here for him. The reckoning for his sins these past weeks. 

“Matthew, who is she?” Margaret pressed again. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped. “Just help her.” Matt’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Please.”

Sister Maggie frowned, fingers clenched around the cloth she’d used to clean some of the blood. “You need to take her to a hospital.”

“Don’t.” Your voice rasped between them. “Don’t you dare.” You started to sit up, using shaking arms to push yourself upright even as your insides felt like they wanted to rip out of you just from breathing. 

“Stay down,” Matt said. He sat on the edge of the bed, easing you back to a lying position. “Try not to move.”

“I knew it.” 

“Y/N-”

“I fucking knew it.” You pushed back. He was stronger. Matt kept you down as gently as he could. 

“Sister, will you give us a minute?”

You turned to the woman you hadn’t noticed. She seemed glad to leave. 

Matt didn’t face you. He stood up from the bed and paced along the concrete floor, keeping a distance away that made you want to scream. You wanted to touch him. To make sure he was really there. But he hovered away from you like a ghost. 

“Those guys really did a number, huh?” You managed to sit up and this time, he didn’t stop you. Your head, however, wanted to bash itself in. Between the trauma and the liquor, you weren’t sure which made you more nauseous. “But the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is always around to save the day.”

“You did it on purpose,” Matt said, shoulders stiff. “You provoked them. They could have killed you and you-” He sucked in a breath. “Why?”

“I’m an adrenaline junkie. I drink, I look for trouble. It’s becoming quite the hobby.” You were lying. You knew he could tell. 

He stood still, head tilting slightly. “You knew I’d come.” 

“Ding ding ding.” You fell back on the bed and let the ceiling spin. 

Matt couldn’t speak. The panic he’d felt was slowly being engulfed by anger, though it was hard to tell at who. You were looking for a fight, that much he gathered was true. You were drunk, though the fight sobered you up some. Everything he’d ever told you, everything he’d done to try and keep you safe, would have been thrown away tonight. You would have let those men kill you if it meant he wasn’t there. 

And it was all his fault. 

He did the one thing he promised he wouldn't. He left. You’d never judged him, never questioned his need to put on the suit. All you ever asked was that he come back to you and this time, he didn’t. By choice, he didn’t. Just like everyone in both of your pasts, he abandoned you. This was your choice to get back at him, whether or not you believed he was alive. 

“I saw you,” you said quietly. “Today, at the hotel. I knew it was you.” The sure, stubbornness in your voice was gone, replaced by a cracking, wrenching sadness. “I had to know.” 

Matt didn’t say anything. He just reached for the lamp and switched off the light. 

“Get some rest.” 

When you woke up, you were in the hospital, bandages on your cuts, and more hungover than you’d felt in a long time. 

Matt was gone. 

-

They didn’t discharge you, but you left anyway. If they looked too closely at your emergency contacts, they’d find someone who was supposed to be dead and Karen. The latter was not someone you wanted to face right now. 

So, with a couple of busted ribs and one hell of a concussion, you went back to the apartment. His apartment. The place where he first kissed you, first touched you, first-

Now it was just yours. He didn’t want it anymore. 

You half debated going back to the church and demanding he talk to you. You’d like to see the brilliant lawyer try to talk his way out of this one. But in the end, everything hurt too much to face him. You wanted a drink. 

Unlocking the door, the click hit your chest harder than any of that creep’s kicks. 

You knew. 

You may not have had his abilities, but you knew. 

Walking in, you didn’t dare turn around and look at the stairs. You didn’t have to. 

“I’m all better now if that’s what you wanted to see,” you said. You threw your jacket on the floor and kicked off your boots. 

Matt didn’t move from his place by the roof entrance. He stood over you like a judgemental god and you wanted to hit him for it. You might have if he didn’t already look like hell itself spat him back out. 

“You wanted them to kill you,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear. Not an accusation. An acknowledgment. 

“I wasn’t going to stop them if they tried.” You shrugged. You moved to the kitchen. “Beer?” 

“You shouldn’t drink with the amount of pain medication they gave you.” He said it so matter-of-factly. Like he was just your boyfriend and looking out for you. But he wasn’t and you didn’t know what he was to you anymore. 

“Yeah, well, it’s going to wear off at some point so I might as well get ahead of the curve here.” 

“Y/N-” He stepped. The steps creaked. 

“Don’t.” You held up a hand. “Don’t come anywhere near me, Matt Murdock.” 

He flinched at the sound of his name like it was a blade you held against his throat. 

“Stay where you are,” you said and twisted off the bottle top, grasping so hard the rigid edge dug into your palm. “Shit.” It sliced your skin and your blood dripped onto the wooden floor. 

You didn’t watch him descend the stairs or cross the space between you. You closed your eyes so you wouldn’t see his hand grab yours, wrapping the small but deep cut with gauze he carried with him. You yanked away the moment his hold lightened. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

“Y/N-” He said again, your name hurting more than his own. 

“You’re dead!” Your scream filled the apartment. You knew it filled his head. Everything always did. Good. Let it. 

Matt didn’t step away, but he did let his hand fall back to his side. 

“I know.” 

You tried your best not to shake, not to cry and show the weakness you’d felt for the last weeks. Then again, you wanted him to know. You wanted him to feel everything you’d felt. 

“Tell me you were trapped somewhere. Tell me you tried everything you could to get back to us and you just broke free,” you pleaded. “Tell me a lie, Matt, because I’d rather hear that than whatever bullshit reason you can give me.”

He opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him speak, reading his face before he could say it. 

“I swear, if you say something about ‘protecting me’, then you should have just left me to those creeps because that would have been better than listening to that broken record again.” You turned your back and for that second, you let yourself crumple, but only for a second and completely silent. 

“It wasn’t about you.” 

You straightened up again. “It never was.” 

Now, with you facing away, it was his turn to break. Matt sucked in a sharp breath to keep himself together as you continued. 

“It was always about you, Matt. About your insisted martyrdom.” You didn’t try to stop your tears now, tasting their salt as they flowed past your lips. “Your city. The rest of us just live here, right?” You turned around, stepping towards him. “But at least we live.” With your hands on his chest, you pushed him back. “Which is a hell of a lot harder than hiding.” 

You pushed again and again and again and he just stood there and took it. Your flattened hands turned to fists, hitting harder and harder until you were sure you’d leave bruises on his chest. 

It was when you collapsed that he finally moved, throwing his arms around you before you could hit the floor, your legs giving out under the weight of your utter, complete agony. Your sobs choked you and rattled through Matt like gunfire. You kept fighting him, even as he held you, the pain of your injuries was nothing compared to what you felt in your soul. Like the shattered pieces were being forced back together, but didn’t fit anymore. 

Matt wanted to make it stop. He wanted more than anything to take all of the pain away and tell you it was going to be okay. He was here now. But he was the cause of it all and there was nothing he could do to change it. 

And while there was still a dark part of him that wanted to leave you here, to shield you from him entirely, Matt knew if he tried to walk away now, he wouldn't survive it. Daredevil or Matt Murdock, it didn’t matter. He was yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair. 

“You were dead,” you said again, this time with broken words blending together with your sobs. “I tried to go back. I tried to get into Midland Circle, but they dragged me out. I tried, Matt, I-”

He cut you off with a kiss on the forehead and held you closer. 

“I know.” He could still hear your screams, your pleas to give up your life to try and save him. He’d thrown it away, everything you’d tried to make of him. Of the two of you, together. 

You’ll get her killed too. Fisk’s voice in his head pierced his skull like a blade. I will crush her. I’ll tear her apart piece by piece, Matthew, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. 

“She’ll put up a hell of a fight first,” Matt muttered. 

“What?” You pulled back to look up at him. 

He shook his head and held you closer still until the lines between you blurred together. 

“Nothing.” 

Even though every part of him now screamed to get away, he couldn’t move. Even as you knelt in front of him, pulling his lips down to yours, he didn’t fight it. A shock worse than any punch went through his system the moment you kissed him. Like every nerve was finally waking up. 

Maybe he wasn’t dead after all. 

Matt cupped your cheek with one hand and slipped the other to the small of your back, urging you to stand and walk with him to the bed neither of you had slept in in weeks. 

He’d decide in the morning.

[utopiastri]

Put That Guy in a SituationTM - look something about Landoscar in a 20/32 type situation has me hooked….trying to not let others on to their predicament, maybe it’s a bit embarrassing how it happened 🤔

hi anon!!! thank you for the prompt! i went a smidge away from my usual cutesy fluff for this one - your suggestion of embarrassment really sparked something in my brain, even if i took it in a slightly different direction. i hope you enjoy!!!

(prompt list here)

“Look, we just gotta act natural,” Lando says.

Or, well, Lando-as-Oscar says, because it sounds like Oscar’s voice and it’s Oscar’s mouth that’s moving, but it’s Lando that’s actually saying the words and–

Lando-in-Oscar’s-body huffs. “You’re having a crisis again aren’t you?”

“You know it’s weirder of you to be 100% ok with this.”

“It’s a body swap curse, mate, it’s not rocket science.”

Oscar runs a hand through his hair and cringes at the uncanny feeling of there being someone else’s hair on top of his head. “I understand the concept, Lando, what I’m struggling with is everything else related to it like, I don't know, how the fuck this happened."

“I don’t know. Do you reckon we need to have sex to break the curse?”

“What?” Oscar squawks, “Why would we need to have sex to break the curse?”

Lando flushes. “I dunno. Just felt like the right solution.”

“Based on what?”

Lando mumbles something about seeing it online once and Oscar chooses to ask no more follow-up questions lest Lando tells him he learnt about it from some random porn he watched once. He heaves a sigh.

“Listen, like you said, we should just act normal. This whole thing is,” Oscar pauses to search for the right word, “Strange. And I’d really rather not bring anyone else into it to begin with.”

“Agreed,” Lando says before adding, “Hey, if we’re still like this for the race tomorrow and I win but in your body, does that mean you get the points?” Oscar glares at him and Lando pouts. ���It’s a genuine question!” he whines.

Oscar’s about to point out they have bigger things to focus on than the effects of this on a race when Jon sticks his head into the room.

“Debrief in five, guys.”

“Sounds good, mate,” Lando says, in an accent no human being has ever used before.

Jon blinks at him. He turns to look at Oscar. Or, rather, he turns to look at Oscar who he thinks is Lando. Oscar smiles weakly.

“He’s, uh, trying to do an impression of me doing an Australian impression," Oscar lies, hoping it sounds vaguely believable.

“Oi!” Lando says, “My Australian accent’s mint.”

“Yes, Oscar,” Oscar says pointedly, “Your Australian accent would be mint because you are from Australia.”

Lando's eyes light up in realisation and he starts nodding furiously. “Right, yep, what he said, exactly.”

Jon blinks at both of them this time. He sighs.

“If you two are doing roleplay, I don’t want to hear about it.” Lando and Oscar both start spluttering, but Jon keeps on talking over both of them. “Just be on time for debrief.”

With Jon gone, Oscar breathes a sigh of relief. Or he starts to, until Lando pipes up.

“I still reckon us having sex will fix it.”

Oscar reminds himself that if he kills Lando right now, he’s possibly going to do irreparable damage to his own body.

The thought’s still tempting.

“Is there a particular reason you’re so desperate to have sex with yourself?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

Lando clearly wasn't expecting that question because he freezes. Oscar’s always hated how easily he flushes but right now, watching it brutally incriminate Lando, he can’t help but be grateful for it.

“I’m not fucking desperate to have sex with myself.” He doesn't sound like he's lying, but the blush on his face suggests he's not telling the whole truth.

Maybe…

His eyebrows raise. “So you’re only desperate to have sex with me then?”

Lando looks up at Oscar, eyes wide. He swallows.

Got you, Oscar thinks to himself.

[comradical]

Let’s say hypothetically this guy isn’t an evil weirdo he likes pretend rape because it’s the closest he can get for the time being (he is) and he is doing this because of “trauma”.

Why would either of you put yourself in a situation where it is extremely easy to retraumatize yourself. Why would you put yourself in a situation where it’s so easy to shut down and not be able to stop, why would you put yourself in a situation where your partner wouldn’t immediately stop if you showed any sign of discomfort or fear.

Let’s not pretend that is isn’t just for the sake of men getting off to (pretend?) raping traumatized women

tw rape

[darling2411]

Her Shadow

Jason Todd x reader

1.8K

*:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were confused. It's been nearly a week since you last saw your shadow. Was he gone? Did you scare him off when you called out for him? Or did something happen?

Why did you even care? It wasn't like you knew him. But you missed the feeling of safety his closeness gave you. Yes you never saw him,but you always sensed his presence, and you missed him now that you didn't.

You stopped feeling alone as soon as your shadow entered your life because you weren't. No matter where you went, you could always rely on him to be there. 

Jason longed to be with you, but he had to stay away until he recovered from a mission gone wrong.

He had to lay low for a while after you saw him anyway. But the week he had to spend away from you was one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

His entire being begged to be with you. To keep an eye on you and make sure everything was okay. He had even gone so far as to think about asking his brother to come see how you were doing and find out whether everything was okay, but he decided against it. Jason wanted to keep you all to himself. And to be fair he doesn't even really have you. Yes he knows as much about you as he could figure out without really breaking every sense of your privacy. But you don't know him. And he had to change that as soon as possible. Jason wanted to get to know you, but he didn’t know how he could achieve that.

Like a gift sent from heaven the solution to his most pressing problem came in the form of yourself. 

Other than a few scratches on his face Jason was all healed, but he hasn't seen you in 10 days and he missed you.

He was on his way back to his apartment when he unexpectedly saw you. His heart started beating faster and he could swear that if it could his heart would jump out of his chest and intertwine with yours.

However, all of his optimistic thoughts vanished when he realizes in what situation you are in and instead his head is filled with rage.

A man was pressing you against the brick wall of a building and you were screaming at him to let you go. You were making it clear that you didn’t want this, that he was making you incredibly uncomfortable, but the guy wouldn't let you go. 

Jason was fuming and before he himself could realize what he was doing he pulled the man off you and started beating him.

You were able to breathe again as soon as the man was shoved away from you and after taking a few deep breaths you noticed that the man who pushed the creep of you was still beating him. You heard a sickening crunch and you knew it was the sound of bones breaking. 

"Hey!" you exclaimed, "please stop." And as soon as your voice reached Jason's ears he stopped immediately, his sole focus on you.

"Are you alright?" His breathing was irregular as he asked.“Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head no “ Other than being a creep you stepped in before anything bad could happen.”

“Don't do that” Jason said, his gaze still full of rage, “That he even put his hand on you without you giving him permission is to much”

You flushed and shrugged your shoulders, saying, "I know, but it wasn't like he assaulted me." 

“He did!” Why were you so adamant on telling him that nothing happened?

“Perhaps, but it makes no difference. You stopped him and nothing really happened. And I'm not gonna say anything anyway.” you rolled your eyes.

Jason was baffled “What do you mean you won't say anything? You have to report him.” He looked at you expectantly.

"Report him?I will either get fired or no one will believe me if I report him, Mister-huge-bicep.” You say being unable not to notice his shirt pressing against the bulging muscles in his arms. You turned to the creep who unfortunately happened to be your boss or rather professor. You were his assistant and most of the time he behaved himself but lately more often than not he made weird jokes and sexual comments. But you needed the money, the job in the little supermarket on the corner didn't cover all your expenses. And you really like your little apartment. If not for your job as a teaching assistant you would have to move back in with your mother and that was something you really don't want to do. 

Mr. Huge Bicep? Jason was overcome with male pride, but he was unable to concentrate on it at the moment. There were more pressing matters. “Is he your boss?” He took a step towards you, saying, “Yn. I asked if he is your boss”

Hold on, did he just say your name? Did you tell him? You must have but when?

“How do you know my name? I didn't tell you, did i?”

Shit, he fucked up” That doesnt matter right now, Is he your boss or not?”

"Yes, he is. He is my professor and also my boss. I’ m his teaching assistant and I really need that job”

“Alright this is what we’re going to do now. First of all I'm gonna walk you home and make sure nothing else happens to you. Then we are going to talk about what you plan to do with your professor and after that I'm gonna explain to you why I know your name, alright ?”

“That sounds good and I'm gonna make us a little something to eat and don't you even try to say no. It's the least I can do after you literally saved me.” you smiled up at him kindly.

How could he ever say no to you in any way? He was totally smitten with you and he never even really talked to you until today.

“Alright” You already turned away from him and didn't see the slight smile on his face after he accepted your invitation.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The two of you made your way over to your apartment. If you noticed that he led the way there without you telling him where to go you didn't say anything. 

You opened the door when you arrived and let him inside. 

Your apartment is a pure reflection of yourself. It is plaid out in your favourite colours and all your little hyperfixation are displayed all over the place. It was so unapologetically you and Jason immediately felt at peace. Just like he usually did when he was following you around as your shadow and was in your mere presence .

“Nice place” he muttered as you ushered him into your little kitchen. 

“Thanks, I love it” you beamed.

Yeah he could see that. “Is that why you don't want to tell anyone about your boss?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yes,” you answered silently.” If I want to keep this place and I really do, then I also have to keep that job.” You just got your shot at independence and you weren't going to let it slip through your fingers without a fight.

“Okay then.”, Jason sighed, ”Has he ever done anything similar ?” he asked, his fist clenched tight. The simple thought of you being in a situation like this before without him there was making him want to punch the professor all over again. Additionally he was extremely mad at himself because how could he not know that you had a second job and that your professor was a fucking creep? If he had known about this he would have helped you sooner. Jason hoped that your boss would still be where he left him later so he could give him another beating for even thinking about you inappropriately.

“No, not really. I mean he always made little comments but he has never been physical with me before. I think it is my fault. I was really nice to him this morning and said that we could meet up to mark the next exams after the lectures were finished and I think he misunderstood me.” your voice got more unsure the more you tried to explain yourself.

“This was definitely not your fault. He is stupid and heard what he wanted to hear. Nothing that happened had anything to do with what you said or how you behaved. This is not your fault, sweetheart” Jason squeezed your shoulders reassuringly.

You looked at him sheepishly, his fingers now drawing little patterns into your skin calming you down. “ I know that I'm supposed to feel like that, but I can't help but feel guilty. I know that the guilt has to change sides but the victims almost always gets all the blame and it’s so deep ingrained in us that even I as a woman sometimes think that it is my fault and that is so messed up.” You sigh heavily.

“Yes it is that is why you have to report him” Jason says trying to persuade you to do the thing he thinks is right.”Nothing will change if you don’t try.”

“You really think that it will help?” you ask, still unsure if anything will change if you report your professor.

“If I come with you yes” Jason says extremely sure of himself.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask perplexed.

“Well I uhm” he trailed off , not quite sure what to say. Should he already tell you about his connection to Bruce? “I mean I saw what happened so im sure they have to believe you if  you have a witness.” 

“You're right I will report him first thing in the morning. I hope you know that you have to come with me. You are the witness after all.” Now it is your time to look at him expectantly.

He did know and the possibility of spending more time with you made him all giddy inside.

“Yeah, no problem.” He looked at you intensely, finally being able to really look at you without as much distance between you as when he was keeping an eye on you from far away. You are the most magnificent thing Jason has ever laid his eyes upon. And if he could he would never stop looking at you.

“You said you would tell me how you know my name?”,that got Jason's attention and he stopped staring at your perfectly kissable lips and focused on your eyes instead.

“Yes but how about we eat something before I tell you?” He asked, trying to delay the conversation as long as he could before he has to tell you everything and you wouldn’t want to see him ever again.

He hopes you won't hate him when he confesses to being your shadow.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[seoulmatez]

𝓈𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓃 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓉𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇

as the crown prince's bodyguard, you've pledged to see that no harm comes to him. with a threat on the horizon, it's time to act on your word.

scaramouche x reader ﾉ 1k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ prince!scaramouche ﾉ bodyguard!reader ﾉ mentions of violence ﾉ repost from previous blog :3

Events like these have always been boring to you—nobles dressing up and putting on their facades to keep up appearances with hopes of earning the favor of the royal family. They used to be a lot more tolerable in the presence of the prince who you’ve sworn to protect with your life. Despite his cold exterior and his harsh way with words, you’ve always found him to be quite entertaining. If anyone hated outings that gave an opportunity for sucking up more than you, it would be him. Though, tonight he made a very explicit point for you to keep your distance.

He seems to have grown fed up with your constant proximity if his foul mood the past few weeks is any evidence. He’s been particularly snappy as of late and you have no idea why. You doubt you’ll be finding out any time soon—you’ve never known Scaramouche to be one to willingly share his feelings.

Even though you’ve been cast away from his side, you refuse to let him leave your sight until the event comes to a close and he’s safely escorted back to the walls of the palace. You’re sure he can feel your stare burning into the side of his head but he chooses to ignore it. 

He looks just about as thrilled as you are at having to attend this gathering. The unimpressed expression he’s been wearing ever since you arrived has yet to leave his face, even as he converses with the people of his empire. You find yourself grinning despite his behavior not being particularly fitting of a soon-to-be emperor—though, being familiar with plenty of the nobles in attendance, you understand why he doesn’t attempt to hide his distaste.

They aren’t very pleasant.

Your eyes follow Scaramouche as he makes his way through the room, the cloak draped over his shoulders drifting gracefully behind him. Time seems to slow at that moment—each of his steps lagging, the fabric around him stilling.

And then—chaos.

Smoke fills the entrance of the room, thick grey clouds billowing from the doorway. then come the panicked screams and the hurried, frantic footsteps. You’re on the move before you truly piece together just what is going on. The head of midnight blue hair you’ve been keyed in on all night is barely visible through the fumes but you follow what little sight of it you have. You can hear your blood rushing and heart thumping as you race through the crowd, shoving past the bodies of dukes and duchesses, counts and countesses.

You’re sure you’ll be in for an earful later regarding your carelessness, but there’s only one thing—one person—you care about right now.

“Your Highness!” The smoke is thicker here but you can make out his figure despite the obstruction. His hand is on the hilt of the sword sheathed at his waist but his head whips around in the direction of your voice. You reach out to grab him with the intention of dragging him away from the disarray, though, before you can reach him, another figure appears within the smoke.

It’s cloaked in darkness and in its gloved hand is a sword, one raised in the air to cut down the crown prince. Your blood boils at the thought of any harm coming to Scaramouche and you jump into action. You swap places with the prince, pulling him protectively behind you before lifting your leg to deliver a blow to the assassin’s chest.

He stumbles on his feet which gives you just enough time to draw your own sword, to point the tip of the blade at the man’s throat. “Surrender.”

Whether it’s the cool metal threatening to pierce his skin or the murderous glint in your eyes, you can’t be sure, but the man drops his weapon.

You allow the other guards to handle wrapping up the situation—calming the crowd and locking the assassin up for his crimes.

You have more pressing matters to attend to. “Your Highness, are you injured?”

“I thought I told you to stay back tonight.” Scaramouche disregards your question entirely, eyebrows knit together in frustration. His hand is balled into a fist and shaking at his side, though, you can’t tell if that’s because of the close call or it’s because he’s that angry with you for ignoring his demand.

“That man could have killed you.” It’s not a justification, but an explanation.

“I could have handled it!” he shouts.

His raised voice might have made anyone else flinch but you stand your ground. Scaramouche is your prince—his word is law and any request he makes should be treated as an order. That is usually the case but you have commands from higher above—the emperor and empress themselves—to protect their heir. And you promised to do just that, even if it may cost you your life.

“I have no doubt about that, Your Highness,” you tell him, finally taking a moment to return your sword to its scabbard. It’s then that you notice that your hands are shaking, too. Different from your speculation with Scaramouche, you can definitively say that fear is the cause of the tremors. The thought of losing your prince was an undeniably scary one. “However, it is my duty to keep you safe—whether you like it or not. Unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me.”

Scaramouche’s breath catches in his throat. Your words are bold for a mere guard—he could have you dismissed and replaced with the snap of his finger if he so pleased. But as quickly as the thought comes, he dismisses it—that isn’t what he wants, anyway. Your loyalty is unwavering and he would be a fool not to accept it.

There’s no need for you to know that so Scaramouche keeps quiet. He’s been eager for this night to end since it started and the unforeseen circumstances have given him the perfect opportunity to retire early. He turns on his heel to leave the room that is still being aired out.

“Your Highness, please let me escort you to the physician.” Your voice and footsteps follow him, lingering a few steps behind.

Do you really think he needs to see a doctor? Despite his momentary inadequacy, you carried out your duties well. “That won’t be necessary. I’m fine.”

manon here ( ≧ᗜ≦) thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[nameless-jamie]

I love the PA series!! So so good! The dynamic between them <3 if you ever write more of them, I’d love to see your take on a role reversal type of situation where Jamie has to help his PA (maybe she’s having a bad day or something like that).

Thank you for all your writing <3 and hope your week is going okay!

Tissues and Tea

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, flirting

A/N: Hello! Thank you for this great request. I hope you like what I made out of it. I'm doing fine, I hope you have a great rest of the week and enjoy your reading. <3

Y/N should’ve stayed home. She knows that.

But the thought of leaving Jamie Tartt to his own devices for a full day? Unsupervised? With a match coming up and at least three emails that need responses before noon? Absolutely not.

So here she is, standing outside his house, sniffling, a little wobbly on her feet, but determined. Her usual pencil skirt and blouse combo were exchanged for some jeans and a loose hoodie. She rings the doorbell and barely has time to brace herself before Jamie swings the door open, wearing—of course—nothing but gray sweatpants and a cocky grin.

"Ew, you look like death."

"Good morning to you too," she grumbles, brushing past him into the warmth of his house.

Jamie shuts the door behind her, frowning. "Nah, for real. Why d’you sound like a ninety-year-old chain-smoker?"

She ignores him, heading straight to the kitchen counter where she usually sets up her laptop. "I’m fine. Just a little cold."

Jamie narrows his eyes, watching as she unpacks her work things with shaky hands. "Right," he drawls. "And I’m fuckin’ Cristiano Ronaldo."

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her head was throbbing and she could not take any banter today. "Jamie, I’m fine."

"You’re not fine," he counters, stepping closer. "You look like you’re gonna pass out. Actually—" He pokes her arm and she loses her balance a little. "—yeah, that’s definitely wobbly behavior, love."

She swats his hand away. "I just need to get through the day, then I’ll rest."

Jamie scoffs. "Yeah, not happening." Before she can argue, he grabs her laptop and walks off with it.

"Jamie—what the hell?!" she croaks, chasing after him.

"Oi, don’t strain yourself," he teases, holding it above his head like a schoolboy dodging a playground fight. "You’re sick. Ya need to rest. And lucky for you, I’m a proper gentleman, so I’m gonna look after ya today. Call me your personal assistant."

She blinks. "You? Taking care of me?"

Jamie gasps, mock-offended. "What, ya don’t trust me?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Rude," he mutters, placing her laptop high up on a shelf, far out of her reach. He puts his hands on her shoulders and shoves her towards the living room "Now, let’s get ya on the couch, yeah?"

She knows she should fight this, but honestly? Standing for this long is exhausting. And Jamie's 50.000-pound-couch looked comfy ass hell. So, reluctantly, she lets him guide her to the couch, where he throws a ridiculously big fluffy blanket over her.

"There," he says, hands on his hips. "All cozy. Like a little babeh."

"I can’t move," she deadpans, buried under the weight of the blanket.

"Exactly." he pulls the finger-guns at her.

She glares at him, but Jamie just grins.

A beat of silence, then—

"Want some tea?"

She exhales. "That would be nice, actually."

Jamie beams, disappearing into the kitchen. A minute later, she hears cabinets slamming, the sink running, and Jamie muttering "fuckin’ hell, where’s the sugar?" under his breath.

"It's in the second cupboard on the left," Y/N shouted as loud as her croaky voice let her.

"Got it!"

When he returns, he hands her a mug with the smuggest expression. "There ya go, love. My specialty."

She takes a sip—and immediately grimaces. "Jamie."

"What?"

"This is just hot sugar water."

He frowns. "Nah, it’s tea."

"The teabag is what makes it tea..." she narrows his eyes at him. "Let me guess, you don't know where the teabags are?"

"I could put some leaves from my kitchen plant in there. Same thing, innit?" he scratches his neck embarrassed.

She sighs, setting it down. "You’re lucky I’m too weak to fight you right now."

Jamie plops down next to her, looking way too pleased with himself. "You are lucky, actually. Not everyone gets personal Jamie Tartt care."

She gives him a tired, but teasing look. "Oh, so this is an exclusive service? Where do I complain? Is there like a hotline or..."

"Hey don't get sassy with me, you booked the VIP package. Special treatment. No refunds." He smirks, then leans in a little. "Want me to tuck ya in?"

"Jamie."

"I’ll do it proper, promise. Maybe even sing ya a lullaby."

"Jamie."

His smirk widens. "Or, if ya prefer, I could be your personal hot water bottle. Y’know, for extra warmth."

"Jamie."

"What? No cuddlin' ?"

She rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch—because despite everything, he is making her feel better.

He watches her for a moment, his teasing expression softening just a little. Then, without thinking, he reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Y’know," he says quietly, thumb brushing against her temple, "you spend so much time lookin’ after me. Someone’s gotta return the favor, yeah?"

Her breath catches.

It’s the kind of moment she’s always tried to ignore—the kind where Jamie isn’t just the flirty, cocky footballer she works for, but something more. Someone who cares about her. Someone who, if she let herself believe it, might actually love her.

But she’s too tired to overthink it today.

So instead of pushing him away, she just leans into his already open arms, lets herself relax under the ridiculous blanket, and mutters, "Fine. But if you try to feed me soup, I’m leaving."

Jamie grins. "Nah, love. I’m terrible at soup."

And with that, he settles in beside her, her head on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Y/n's silent snores fill the room and Jamie sighs satisfied. Yep, he's refusing to move from this position—ever again.

[pamicakery]

How to decide?

(mid long post but needed)

🍞

We always say that our only job is to decide. But how to decide?

Like I love to say, everything is polarity like ALL YOUR REALITY.Everything in your life is an arrangement of polarities :

Let's take my life for example :

🐝Am I a woman? Yes

🐝 Are 👩🏾‍🤝‍👨🏿 my parents? Yes

🐝Do I have my desired life? No

🐝 Am I happy ? No

And so on. We have all the possibilities, and every outcome for us. Our job is to pick like a claw machine.

You choose a plush, you focus on it. You play, but the claw doesn't catch it.

👄: oh no, I lost.

You try again

👄 : I lost!!!

You try again (with the HOPE of winning)

👄: NOOOO!!!

You were Hoping to win but you didn't choose to be a winner. As a result, you let the outside deciding for you.

You depended on the outside to confirm if you are a winner or not.

However, they are some people who automatically assume that they are winners.

Choosing to be a winner is selecting the path of a winner.

The moment you have the choice, between winner or loser, the moment you select to win, (and it's as real as losing) the path of being a winner is opened to you.

So, some people choose to put their polarity on:

Winning? Yes.

Then they play,

👄: I gonna win

They lose.

👄: I gonna win!

They won.

👄:See? I knew it!

Manifesting is choosing a path and persist in it. (no matter what the 3d shows)

So how to manifest your desire?

Do I have it?

Yes or no.

Am I this person?

Yes or no.

(am I in relationship, do I have a skinny body, do I have money on my account etc..)

So you can change all your life, just by choosing. You life is no set in stone. Because all your life is an arrangement, the moment you set your polarities for your highest favor, it will be shown.

If you stay faithful to that path.

And don't be disturbed by the 3d, you created it yourself. Your emotions should go to your mind, your internal world.

Emotions are strong messages from your mind to the universe. If you say :

'' Oh no! Sp is ignoring me.. ''

➡️ You are sending to the universe the feeling of being ignored, hoping that they will stop ignoring you. But for instance, you choose to be ignored. The universe will amplify that feeling of ignorance.

And since the 3d controls you, you will always feel the way.

Example of a script in your favor :

Identity :

Is my hair brown, long, wavy and silly? Yes

Do I have honey skin :yes

Do I have a pretty face : yes

Skinny body :yes

➡️I send to the universe the feeling of being healthy, feeling myself beautiful, I love my self.

Job/financial situation :

Do I attract Money :yes

Do I have my perfect job :yes

Do my collegues love me :yes

Am I financially abundant :yes

➡️I send to the universe the feeling of being abundant, Fulfilled in my job, loving going at work.

Love and relationship :

Is Sp my boyfriend/girlfriend :yes

Am I feeling loved :yes

Do I feel accepted with my friends :yes

➡️I am sending to the universe the feeling of being loved, happy, secure.

The universe only recognize feeling and emotions, so... What you can do is taking 5 min, closing your eyes, and visualizing what you want and then sending to the universe what would you feel if you had this right now(because you want to manifest something to have a feeling you aren't feeling right now, that's why you want It) :

The universe understand that :

-you have it right now

-you are living in the end

-this is reality

-you shifted

-this is happening right now.

🍞Do it before sleeping, after waking up and during the day. You don't need to laying down, closing your eyes etc. Just say '' I gonna send this to the universe ''.

And the more you send those energies, this will be your energetic signature.

(the energetic signature corresponding to a type of reality) Then the reality will bend for you.

Because :frequency first then physical.

That's why we ask you :

'' What would you feel if you had it right now? ''

That why we tell you techniques like :

Visualise, affirm, script etc... To immerse yourself into your desired world ➡️ generate feeling ➡️Energetic signature sent to the universe➡️persistence➡️solidification in the mind🟰

Solidification in reality!!!!

(because what you feel, by visualizing is real, you smile, you feel good is real. It's real at a vibrational frequency, so it exist, it's real.

REAL = REAL

The more the feeling will be generated, the more you will feeling it even outside)

[isak-dot-gov]

Can you write an imagine where emily taking care of the reader when she is sick? thank youu

Sick Day

Pairing: Emily Engstler x Reader

Word count: 1245

Summary: Emily takes care of you while you're sick.

My Masterlist :)

............................

It started as a scratchy throat when you woke up. You ignored it at first, chalking it up to sleeping with the window cracked open and hoped it would subside soon. By the time the afternoon rolled around, your head felt stuffed with cotton, your body was aching like you’d run a marathon, and chills were running up and down your spine even though you were wrapped in the fluffiest blanket in the apartment.

You were curled up on the couch, eyes half-closed as the TV droned in the background. Emily had gone out earlier to run some errands, and though she’d texted to say she wouldn’t be long, you couldn’t help but wish she’d walk through the door already. Everything felt overwhelming—your pounding head, the way your nose refused to cooperate, and the effort it took just to keep your eyes open.

When the door finally opened with the familiar creak, you managed a weak, “Hey, Em,” before a coughing fit overtook you.

“Baby?” Emily’s voice was sharp with concern as she closed the door behind her. In a matter of seconds, she was in the living room, crouching beside the couch to look at you. Her blue eyes scanned your face, taking in your pale skin and flushed cheeks. “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck. What’s going on?”

You groaned, pulling the blanket over your face in embarrassment. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I love you too Em,” you croaked, your voice barely audible.

“Don’t even try to sass me right now.” She gently pulled the blanket down, pressing the back of her hand against your forehead. Her brows furrowed immediately. “You’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumbled, looking away.

Emily let out a soft huff, her lips twitching into a smile despite the situation. “You’re literally my favorite person. How could you ever bother me?” She leaned down, pressing a light kiss to your warm forehead. “Stay put. I’ll take care of everything.”

You watched her disappear into the kitchen, the sound of cupboards opening and closing blending with the faint hum of the TV. She returned a few minutes later, balancing a tray in her hands with an assortment of items.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” she said, placing the tray on the coffee table and sitting down beside you. “We’ve got soup—nothing fancy, just chicken noodle. Tea with honey because you sound like a frog. A cool washcloth and some medicine for that fever.”

You wrinkled your nose at the sight of the medicine. “No way. That stuff is disgusting.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “It’s not up for debate. You’re taking it.”

“I don’t need it,” you insisted, crossing your arms. “I’ll just sleep it off.”

“Babe.” Emily gave you a look that was somehow both stern and affectionate. “You can barely sit up without looking like you’re about to pass out. The medicine will help.”

You shook your head stubbornly, burying yourself deeper in the blanket. “I’ll manage.”

Emily sighed dramatically, sitting on the couch beside you. “Okay, fine. Let’s try this another way. If you take the medicine, I’ll let you pick whatever we watch tonight. Anything you want.”

You peeked out from under the blanket, eyeing her suspiciously. “Even if it’s one of those cheesy rom-coms you always complain about?”

“Even those,” she conceded with a smirk. “I’ll sit through the entire thing without making one sarcastic comment. That’s how much I love you.”

You pouted but eventually relented, sticking out your hand. “Fine. Give it to me.”

Emily grinned triumphantly, pouring the dose and handing it to you. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You downed the medicine with a dramatic grimace, shuddering at the taste. “Ugh, you’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” she teased, leaning over to kiss your temple. “And now you’ll feel better in no time.”

“You’re too good to me,” you whispered, your voice raspy.

“Of course I am,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair out of your face with a soft smile. “I love you, and I can’t have my girl feeling like this.”

Her words made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with being sick. You mustered the energy to smile back at her as she tucked the blanket more securely around your shoulders. She handed you some tea, holding the mug steady while you took a sip. The warmth soothed your sore throat instantly.

“Better?” she asked.

You nodded. “A little bit.”

“Good.” Emily reached for the washcloth she’d prepared, gently dabbing it against your forehead. Her touch was cool and soothing, and you let your eyes flutter shut as she worked. “You’re stuck with me today, by the way. No arguments. I’m officially your personal nurse.”

You cracked an eye open, looking up at her. “Does that mean I can boss you around?”

She chuckled, the sound low and comforting. “Don’t push your luck. Now eat your soup before it gets cold.”

Obediently, you took a few bites, the warm broth doing wonders for your aching body. Emily stayed by your side, occasionally checking your forehead and making sure you were sipping your tea. When you finally set the empty bowl back on the tray, she settled in beside you, pulling you into her side.

“Let’s put something on to distract you,” she said, grabbing the remote. “What do you feel like watching?”

“Something we’ve seen a million times,” you murmured, your head resting on her shoulder. “I don’t have the brainpower to keep up with anything new.”

She smiled and put on your favorite show, the familiar theme music filling the room. Her arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you closer as the two of you sank into the couch. You could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing, her presence grounding you in a way that nothing else could.

As the day went on, she stayed by your side, only getting up to grab refills of tea or adjust the blanket when you shifted uncomfortably. When you dozed off, she brushed your hair out of your face and pressed a kiss to your temple. And when you woke up, feeling groggy but slightly better, she was still there, scrolling through her phone with the volume turned low so she wouldn’t disturb you.

“You’re still here?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep.

Emily looked up, her lips quirking into a smile. “Of course I am. Where else would I be?”

You reached for her hand, squeezing it weakly. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Her smile softened, and she leaned down to kiss your forehead again. “You just have to be you. That’s more than enough.”

As the sun set and the room grew dim, Emily helped you get ready for bed, practically carrying you when your legs felt wobbly. She tucked you in, making sure the extra blankets were just right before climbing in beside you.

“You’re not gonna get sick, are you?” you asked, your voice filled with worry.

“If I do, you can take care of me next time,” she teased, wrapping her arms around you. “But for now, don’t worry about me. Just rest, babe. I’ve got you.”

With her warmth beside you and her steady breathing lulling you to sleep, you knew that even on your worst days, Emily would always make everything better.

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Buried Secrets Chapter 1: Demons of Deception

Buried Secrets Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Summary: After the harrowing events in South America, Frankie and the guys have returned home and opened their own private security business. They're eventually approached by an archeologist, named Mya, who is requesting their specialized services for an archeological expedition in the Amazonian jungle of southeastern Peru, hours away from where they stashed Lorea's money just over the border in the mountains of northern Chile.

Frankie is hesitant to accept the job, but with Pope's insistence this could be their cover to go back for the money, he relents. However, Frankie soon learns their new job assignment only further puts them and his new love interest in danger in an unexpected way as they set out to find the lost Incan city of Paititi.

Word Count: 6.2k

👉 Warnings: smut (MDNI), angst, mentions of mental health struggles and past drug use (it's Frankie), there are bad guys with weapons (gun violence, physical violence, death). Frankie Morales comes with his own warnings.

👉 Chapter Warnings: Badass OFC, there are bad guys with weapons (gun violence, physical violence, blood), a surprise appearance or two, brooding Frankie

Chapter Quote: “Why don’t you come a little closer so you can experience the adventure for yourself.”

Mya’s POV

I had been in a lot of tight spots in the past, but nothing could compare to this. The most infuriating thing about it all, it wasn’t because of something I did. I was left to take the fall by someone that I thought loved me.

When I came to, I found myself suspended from the ceiling by my shackled hands. My toes barely touched the floor, just enough to help take some of the weight off my aching shoulders and wrist that stretched above my head. The room was empty and dark, only small hints of sunlight sneaking in through the thick tattered curtains.

Looking around, I saw no way out of this. There was nothing I could use to my advantage and my restraints seemed secure. They had done their due diligence in making sure I couldn’t escape. That was the downside to being taken hostage by people who were familiar with your unusual skill sets.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed before the door creaked open, but it felt like hours. A very pissed off looking Miguel Collazo and one of his enforcers strode into the room, pausing several feet in front of me. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach because I could sense he was beyond reason.

He gave me a menacing glare as he spoke with his thick Spanish accent, “I never thought I would find myself in this kind of situation with you, Mya. You are one of my best collectors, so I am torn on what to do with you.”

I was seething, “How about you unlock these cuffs and let me go. I had nothing to do with this, and you know it.”

He tutted, “I do not believe you. You and Damien have always been inseparable, so I know you know where he is. I want my artifacts and money back.”

Collazo was a pudgy little man with a crooked nose and curly villain mustache that rivaled Dustin Hoffman in Hook. He had a perpetually smug expression that I really wanted to bitch slap off his face as he smirked up at me.

“I don’t know where he is. What would he have to gain from leaving me behind?”

He shrugged as he began to pace back and forth in front of me, “I do not know, to keep me off his trail? It does not make sense to me that he would not tell you his plan.”

I scoffed, “Well I haven’t done that now have I? I have no fucking idea where he is. He was gone when I got home…his phone has been disconnected. I have no way of reaching him.”

The door swung open with a little more force this time. Comandante Veracruz entered, moving to stand next to Collazo. I could see his scruffy angled jaw ticking as his dark eyes looked me over from head to toe. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, I could only hope he would take pity on me and talk Collazo off the ledge.

Veracruz was head of security for Collazo. Damien and I had gotten to know him well since we worked closely on several heists in the past. He had made his affections for me obvious but would never have acted on them because of Damien. Now that Damien was long gone, I hoped I could use his affections to my advantage.

“What are you thinking?” He asked Collazo in his Spanish accent.

Collazo smiled, “Still undecided…I am going to let Diego work his magic and see what happens. If she knows, she will break.”

Veracruz shifted his gaze to me. He looked conflicted, but didn’t say anything further. Collazo looked to Diego, nodding in my direction as he rasped out, “Comenzar.” (Begin.)

Diego stalked forward, then backhanded me across the cheek. I let out a threatening chuckle as I shook it off. “This isn’t gonna change my answer. I don’t know anything. All you’re doing is pissing me off.”

Collazo laughed, “Good thing we have you chained up then… Continuar, Diego.” (Continue, Diego.)

Diego gave me an empty stare before punching me in the gut, knocking the air out of my lungs. He went on like this for several minutes, punching and slapping. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I pushed through the pain. I refused to let them see how bad I was hurting, even as I felt my left eye swelling and blood running down the sides of my face. All the while Collazo continued to question me.

“Perhaps you could also fill me in on what happened at Lorea’s? Was Damien involved with that too? How much of my money does he actually have?”

I shook my head, “I don’t know anything about that. Maybe he was. If he’s capable of this, then why not? But I don’t know anything. He didn’t tell me.”

Collazo inched forward, causing Diego to momentarily pause his blows and face him as he awaited further instructions.

“Are you sure you do not have anything you wish to tell me, Mya?” Collazo asked.

Clearly, this was going nowhere. It didn’t matter what I said. He didn’t believe me. I spit out the blood that was pooling in my mouth toward his expensive looking white leather shoes, “Yeah, fuck you.”

He didn’t seem impressed, “Still not breaking…I’m shocked. You are stronger than I would have guessed. Hora de tu especialidad, Diego.” (Time for your specialty, Diego.)

My breath caught in my throat as I watched Diego reach for the knife at his belt. A sadistic smile curling on his lips as he nodded in affirmation to his boss. However, he had made a mistake, standing too closely to me with his back turned. I reacted before he even realized what was happening, kicking the knife from his hand and using the chain as leverage to lift myself so I could wrap my legs around his neck. The adrenaline pumping through my veins allowed me to push through the debilitating pain, but I wasn’t sure how long I could hold him. Every muscle and joint in my body was protesting, but I still managed to clamp down tightly around his throat as he clawed at my jean-clad legs. He fought it for a time but eventually passed out from lack of oxygen.

Veracruz stood in shock as he watched Diego fall to his knees. Collazo let out a boisterous laugh and clapped his hands in amusement, “It’s always an adventure with you, Mya.”

I loosened my hold on Diego, allowing him to drop the rest of the way to the ground. I gave Collazo the best sarcastic smile I could muster in my current state, “Yeah? Why don’t you come a little closer so you can experience the adventure for yourself then.”

Collazo chuckled, “I am going to miss your feistiness.”

Veracruz finally interjected, “Perhaps she is telling the truth. It does not make sense that he would leave her if she knew something. Maybe he is planning to return for her?”

Collazo weighed Veracruz’s words, his eyes eventually narrowing in suspicion. “Then he will find that she is missing and that you wait in her place…Acaba con ella, Comandante.” (Finish her, Comandante.)

Fuck. How do I get out of this one?

Veracruz gave a curt nod, taking a deep breath as he drew his pistol and walked toward me. He made sure to stay far enough away that he was out of my reach, but I could still see the nervous sweat forming on his brow and conflict burning in his eyes as he aimed at my face. He held the weapon there, his nostrils flaring and jaw flexing as he clearly struggled with his instructions. I held his gaze, my eyes silently pleading with him in hopes it might sway him to help me in some way. If he didn’t, I was fucked.

“What are you waiting for, Comandante? Finish her,” Collazo ordered again.

I sighed. I didn’t want to do this, but it was the only card I had left to play if Veracruz wasn’t going to help me. I knew it would stop Collazo in his tracks, but I hated myself for it before the words even left my mouth. The Comandante’s finger slowly moved to the trigger, but he was still hesitating.

I flinched away from the barrel of the gun. “WAIT! Wait…” I finally called out.

Collazo sneered as he twisted his stupid mustache with his fingertips, “Better make it good, Mya. This is your last chance.”

I could feel the fight leaving my body as I finally shared the news that I hoped would save my life - at least until I could come up with another way out. “I know the location of Paititi.”

Veracruz lowered his weapon, then turned to give Collazo a questioning look. Collazo’s brows pinched together in doubt, “You lie.”

I shook my head, “I would never…not about this.”

He scoffed, “How do I know you are not just saying this so I do not kill you?”

I huffed out a nervous laugh, “Well, that’s exactly why I’m saying it…but it doesn't make it any less true. I’ve seen the Vatican documents. I know where to look.”

Collazo smiled contemptuously, “That’s impossible. They are inaccessible...How?”

This was the tricky part that was probably going to get me shot, “I-I can’t tell you how…but just know, if you shoot me, the knowledge dies with me. No one else knows about this, not even Damien.”

Veracruz smirked in my direction, “Well…it seems the secrets run deep between both of you then.”

I let out a sardonic laugh, “Damien never believed in Paititi…he said it was a wasted effort…a myth. I kept a lot from him...”

Collazo came closer but made sure to keep Veracruz positioned between us. “What are you proposing, Mya? How can I trust you after this?”

“Let me prove my loyalty. Let me lead an expedition to find the lost city for you. All I ask is that you let me do it the right way, the legal way. I just need funding…”

He didn’t seem convinced, but I was still breathing, so it wasn’t a no. I changed tactics, now playing the role of a hurt and scorned lover, “I swear, I had no knowledge of what Damien was doing. IF he comes back for me, I’ll kill him myself. He betrayed me too. I’m here because of what he did. I can’t forgive him for that.”

Collazo sighed, “If you want to do this the legal way, you know you cannot have any known ties to me…”

I had him. Death would not be taking me today, but I had to think quickly so I could talk myself out of this mess.

“I’ll figure out the logistics…Maybe I set up a donation fund through the gallery…you can donate anonymously to fund the project. I’ll give you access to whatever I find first before I report the discovery.”

This was far from how I wanted to do things, especially since I was hellbent on getting out of my life of crime, but I saw no other way forward at the moment.

Veracruz turned to Collazo, “If you’re willing to chance it, I can keep an eye on her…”

Collazo met my gaze, “Fine. One wrong move though…and you are done. You understand?”

I nodded, “Yes, I understand.”

My eyes shifted to Veracruz, who visibly relaxed, realizing the threat had passed. Collazo turned to leave and tossed him the key, “Cuida sus heridas.” (Take care of her wounds.)

He watched Collazo exit and close the door before he turned to me, leaning in close to my ear as he worked to unlock the cuffs, “I really thought I was about to have to shoot up the place to get you out of here. That was clever…how long can you keep this ruse going?”

The cuffs loosened, I groaned at the ache in my joints as I lowered my arms and leaned into him for support, “It’s not a ruse…I was telling the truth…”

My words trailed off as I sucked in a sharp breath.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

I shook my head, my breath now shaky as the pain began to overtake me, “Fuck n-no. I-I think he cracked some ribs.”

He sighed, “I’m sorry. I should have done something more…”

I winced as we began to walk, “No, I get it. It probably just would have gotten us both killed. You did what you could in the moment.”

Veracruz did have a soft spot for me, but I wasn’t a fool. He would never sacrifice himself for me. He wasn’t that selfless. He would only help so long as it didn’t put him in the crosshairs. He was an unreliable ally in the best of circumstances, and I knew that. At least he cared enough to see that I was taken care of while I recovered.

I knew I would have to watch out for myself as I plotted and planned because there were demons of deception around every corner. I could put my trust in no one, not even the one person I thought was safe. I was quickly learning they would all betray me in the end, which is why I wanted out of this life. I wanted to walk the straight and narrow again. The money was not worth death. It was getting too dangerous to continue living this way.

Six Months Later…

Frankie’s POV

I awoke with a groan, squinting toward the window to find the sun was just beginning to rise. The reason for my sudden waking, my cell phone incessantly pinging from incoming text messages on the nightstand. I didn’t even need to look to know that it was Pope. I huffed, reaching for the device to see what the hell he wanted this early in the morning.

Pope: We still on for the range today? I know we had a late night, but I’m still going.

Pope: Will and Benny are out. Apparently, Benny is feeling last night’s fight. He 100% got his ass kicked.

Pope: Which means Will is being his bitch today.

Pope: So, that leaves us. You better not stand me up, pendejo.

I rolled my eyes. Why can’t he just put all of that in one fucking message? He texts like a teenage girl.

Frankie: Chill the fuck out, pendejo. I’ll be there.

Pope: 9AM. Don’t be late.

Frankie: 🖕

Pope: 🖕🖕

I dropped the phone beside me on the bed and sighed. Without Benny and Will there, I knew Pope would start badgering me about going back for Lorea’s money. He was becoming almost obsessive over the idea. Not that I could blame him, having a little extra cash on hand would be a huge help right now. Supporting two households wasn’t easy, even if the new private security business was doing well.

I palmed at my sleepy face, trying to wake up. My eyes finally blinked open and surveyed my near empty bedroom. The bareness of the place was a constant reminder of how I had fucked everything up and ended up alone. Starting over was never fun, but this was torture knowing that my now ex-fiancé, Maria, had given me every chance and I squandered them. Now she was moving on, my young daughter now spending time with a new man in their life and calling him Papi while I fought for unsupervised visitation.

I had no one to blame but myself. I was the one who fell off the wagon and started a slow coke spiral after we got back from South America. What we had gone through, losing Tom, it was too much and we did it for nothing. We left with nothing to show for it but the body of our Captain. We got messy. I got messy. And it broke me. I should have put my foot down about how much weight that bird could carry. If I had, we might be living completely different lives right now. Tom might still be here.

I puffed air out of my cheeks before slinging the blanket off so I could go make some coffee. After padding down the short hallway of my very modest two-bedroom fixer-upper, I loaded up the coffee machine. I stood, leaning against the counter, scanning the space while the sputtering drips began to fall into the pot. I really needed to do something to make the place look less like military barracks and more like a home. Especially if I was eventually going to have my kid here. The mere thought of all the work that needed to be done made my chest feel tight. I had to shake my head to push the never-ending checklist out of my mind and focus on something else before it put me in an even worse mood.

Once my coffee was ready, I decided to sit out on the front porch swing to enjoy the calm of the morning. After getting comfortable, I let my mind run through several things that needed to be taken care of at the office. I was thinking through some budget requests while watching two squirrels chase each other around the base of an old Oak tree when movement on the street caught my attention. A blacked-out SUV crept down the road, eventually speeding up and disappearing around the corner. It put me on edge. It was too nice of a vehicle to be driving through this neighborhood.

I was probably just being paranoid, but the fear of one of Lorea’s business partner’s finding out who stole some of their money and then torched the rest was a very real concern - for me at least. The rest of the guys seemed to think we were in the clear. I wasn’t completely convinced, and it constantly had me on alert.

I sat for a while, my eyes scanning the quaint neighborhood I had chosen to settle down in, looking for anything that seemed out of place. Finding nothing, I eventually scoffed at myself, thinking that perhaps I was being ridiculous about this whole thing as I stood to go get ready to meet Pope.

A short time later, I found myself pulling into the gun range parking lot. This had become sort of a weekend routine for us. It served as an escape, allowing me to have a taste of the military life that I was so accustomed to before retiring. It was the only time I found that my mind was completely empty. There was something freeing about it, helping me to relax - most days. Today, however, was another story. I could tell from the look on Pope’s face as soon as he stepped out of his vehicle that he was cooking up some kind of plan.

He smiled as I approached, clapping me on the back in greeting, “Hey, hermano. You get enough sleep?”

I gave him a tight smile, “Could have gotten a little more if you weren’t texting me at the asscrack of dawn.”

Pope grimaced, “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”

I rolled my eyes at him, “Of course not... What did you book for us today?”

He turned to grab his duffel out of the backseat, “I got us two one-hundred-yard lanes. They only had one three-hundred open.”

I shook my head, “Figures. Alright, let’s go.”

The range was busy, for which I was thankful. It made it harder for Pope to get a word in. There was an eventual lull in the shooting, and he wasted no time in taking advantage of it. He leaned in closer, pulling one side of his earmuffs away as we worked to reload. I did the same so I could hear what he had to say.

“I think I can get us into Columbia, off the radar. I’ve got a contact…”

I held up my hand, “Stop. I don’t wanna hear it.”

I could see the frustration on his face as his jaw tensed, “Come on Fish, this could work. I’ll cover the cost again…get the documents…everything. No one knows where that money is except for us. We shouldn’t run into any problems. There wouldn’t be any contact with the cartel. It’s a quick in and out.”

After inserting a fresh magazine into the rifle and replacing my earmuff, my lips set into a tight line. I gave him a tense look before stepping to the firing line to discharge at the target. My non-answer seemed to end the conversation, for now.

I took the time to get lost in the target, giving it all my focus as I peppered it with bullet holes in and around the center. My mind was finally quiet, and I reveled in it, wishing it would stay that way for the rest of the day. I knew that was wishful thinking though. It never did.

Once that magazine was empty, I returned to the table that separated my lane from Pope’s so I could reload. He joined me, staring off in the distance, seemingly distracted by something before finally turning his attention to me and removing his right muff. I did the same as I gave him a warning with my eyes.

“How’s it going with Maria? Any headway?”

I shook my head, “Nope. If she has it her way, I’ll get zero visitation. She’s done with me…won’t listen to anything I have to say. She doesn’t believe I’ve cleaned up my act.”

Pope sighed as he gave me a sympathetic look, “Sorry, hermano. I hoped she would come around. Don’t let it get you down though. We’ve got your back. Whatever you need…”

I nodded, “Yeah, I appreciate it. I might need you guys as character witnesses if it gets to that point.”

He gave me a soft reassuring smile, “Consider it done.”

His eyes drifted again as a larger caliber rifle began to sound off from the far lane. He seemed intrigued as I raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He glanced over at me, jerking his chin upward indicating I should have a look. It didn’t take me long to figure out what had his attention, or who rather. There was a woman in the farthest three-hundred-yard lane, lying on her stomach, shooting the high caliber rifle that had ended our conversation. She was wearing army green fatigues that definitely did not fit like military issue pants as they hugged her curvy hips and ass just right. She was also wearing a black ribbed tank top, black military style boots, and a black SWAT hat pulled down low over her aviators. Her dark hair was tied back in a messy knot at the nape of her neck. I could see why she had his attention. Aside from her attractive form, this wasn’t a sight we saw here very often.

As she stood, she turned toward us. Her eyes hidden behind the dark glasses with her lips set into a tight line, giving nothing away. I glanced at Pope, who seemed smitten already. I rolled my eyes at him as I stepped back up to the firing line. Hot women were always his weakness. He would disagree, but we all knew it.

When I returned to the table, it was clear Pope was still distracted as he continued to glance her way. His eyes finally met mine. “You been out with anyone since you and Maria split?” he asked.

I gave him an admonishing look as I shook my head. I didn’t feel like that was the best idea right now. I had too much going on.

It was his turn to roll his eyes, “Not saying you need to step into anything serious, but you do need to lighten up. A one-nighter might do you some good and help with that.”

I glared at him, “I’m not doing that. It always turns into trouble.”

He snorted, “Well…maybe you should be worse at it, so they don’t come back for more.”

I could feel my cheeks warming from his words as I flashed my middle finger at him, “Fuck off.”

He jerked his chin toward the last lane as the woman got into position again, hitting the three-hundred-yard target dead center when she finally shot off a round.

“You should go ask her out.”

I scoffed, “No. I’m not…”

Pope jutted his hip out, putting his weight on one foot, “Come on… Maria’s moving on. It’s time you did too.”

I could feel my jaw flexing at the mention of that, “No. Just let it go.”

Pope chuckled, “Yeah, I don’t blame you. That looks like too much woman for you to handle anyway. She’d probably kick your ass…I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

I shook my head, giving him an exasperated look, “What the hell does that even mean?”

He gave me a mischievous smile as he shrugged, then turned toward the firing line to begin shooting again.

Fucker. I was half tempted to talk to her just to prove a point.

I suddenly felt like eyes were on me as I glanced back over at the woman. I couldn’t tell because of her glasses, but it appeared that she was looking directly at me with a small smirk on her full lips. One eyebrow raised slightly as she picked up another clip, returning to the rifle to reload it. Now I was intrigued.

By the time Pope and I finished off our last magazine, she was gone. As we walked to the parking lot, Pope was quietly berating himself for letting the opportunity pass before he asked if I thought she might be back again. I shrugged, somewhat amused over his new infatuation because I knew he would be distracted by someone else as soon as he stepped foot into the bar later this evening.

After our goodbyes, I made my way to the local auto parts store to pick up a couple of specialty tools that I needed for a restoration I was currently working on in my spare time. I had inherited my dad’s dark red 1970 Chevelle SS 454 when he passed away several years ago. We always said we would work together to fix it up, but it never happened. Instead, it sat idle in his garage for years. It did the same after I took over ownership of it, not having the time or the energy for it. Now that I was alone, I found myself with plenty of opportunities and the need to keep myself occupied. It was another one of those things that helped keep my mind distracted when I needed it most. I was actually thankful for it even though it was turning into an expensive project.

With the new tools in tow, I returned home. After making myself a quick sandwich and scarfing it down, I sequestered myself away in the dilapidated shack beside the house that was meant to serve as a garage. It quickly became my refuge, and I had zero complaints about it - even if it did have a leaky roof and shitty lighting. It got the job done and that was all that mattered.

I spent all afternoon working, attempting to keep my mind from drifting to thoughts of the large bags full of money hidden in the Andes mountains of Chile. After the cluster fuck we got into last time we were in South America, I was having a hard time reconciling the idea of going back. Pope was right, we had no reason to interact with the cartels this time. We could easily sneak in and collect the cash without anyone knowing, assuming it was still where we left it.

What we should do about the money was a constant internal battle for me. I didn’t know if I should accept Pope’s reasoning over mine. However, the fear of losing another team member acted as a grey cloud that hung over my head and kept me from going back. I couldn’t go through that again. It affected every decision I had made since we got back. I couldn’t shake it no matter how hard I tried. The risk was too high without guarantee of a reward.

While I respected Pope’s attempts, I still had to consider outside forces that we had no control over. He had all of the trust in the world for his ‘contacts,’ but I didn’t. It would only take one of them to tip off the cartel if they got wind of what we were doing. It wasn’t a risk I was willing to take. I had spent hours going through every angle, all the possible problems we could run into. All of his plans seemed too dangerous, leaving too many unknowns. He just needed to accept that as my final decision and stop trying to rope us into another one of his crazy plans.

That was my final thought on it - for today anyway.

Mya’s POV

I had been planning the expedition for six months, meticulously researching every detail. That’s how I ended up at the local gun range for the last three Saturdays, doing a little recon on the owner of the security firm I was looking to hire. Collazo offered to provide security, but I needed this to be as far removed from him as possible to protect the reputation of my Gallery and the Archaeology Preservation Foundation that I had set up to fund the dig. Veracruz would still be on site to keep an eye on things, but all other aspects of the project were up to me and that included keeping my team safe.

Delta 5 Security Solutions had been recommended to me by a number of high-profile locals. It was owned by a military veteran named Francisco Morales, who worked to keep other veterans employed. Because of this, Delta 5 Security Solutions seemed much more equipped to handle the dangers of the Peruvian jungle than other firms. Word on the street was that they even offered specialized air transport services, on occasion. I needed a couple of pilots, so they seemed to check all the boxes. It would save me from having to set up multiple contracts at least.

The more time I spent watching Francisco, the more I questioned if he was the right choice. He definitely didn’t have the brightest of personalities, often seeming frustrated and stressed when he arrived at the range - like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. I could, however, see his focus and determination as he fired at the targets. He was a good shot and exuded authority and control with his weapon. Sure, he came across as a little disheveled and scruffy, but there was something under the surface that intrigued me just enough to see where things went.

Like most Saturdays, Francisco wasn’t alone for his latest outing. He was accompanied by one of his employees, Santiago Garcia. Santiago seemed a lot more easy going and appeared to enjoy pushing Francisco’s buttons based on the serious side eye that was being thrown his way. From the intel I had gathered, these two, along with the Miller brothers, all served in the same military unit and seemed to be close friends in addition to running the security firm together. I had been watching all of them over the last several weeks to get a feel for their dynamic. I could see that they were loyal to each other and worked well together. It was almost for those reasons alone that I felt they would be a good fit. At least they understood loyalty and it left me wondering how loyal they could be to me if things took a turn.

However, I knew this all hinged on Francisco accepting the job. I had been warned that he wasn’t big on risks and wasn’t afraid to turn jobs down for that reason. He really was an enigma that I couldn’t figure out. Aside from his gruff demeanor, he seemed quiet and introspective - a reluctant leader, but the guy in charge, nonetheless. He also seemed to be having some life struggles but appeared to be on the upswing from those. I was concerned that it could serve as a distraction for him, but I still found myself wanting him and his team. I wouldn’t settle for anything less. My gut told me there was more to him than meets the eye and I wanted the opportunity to peel back those layers so I could find out who he really was as a person.

As I positioned myself on the ground to shoot the high caliber rifle that I had rented from the range, I could feel eyes on me. It probably wasn't the best choice since I hadn’t intended to draw attention to myself. There weren't a lot of women at the range, let alone any shooting a weapon like this at three-hundred yards. After hitting the target with multiple rounds, I stood, adjusting my aviators as I glanced toward the two men I was here to watch, realizing that I definitely had Santiago’s attention. Francisco gave me a brief glance before stepping up to shoot his own rifle. I had to give it to him; he didn’t allow for distractions. Santiago on the other hand, seemed to have at least one weakness. Women. I couldn’t help rolling my eyes over that realization as I packed up to leave.

After running home to shower and change into more professional attire, I headed toward my antiquities gallery to open for the day. Soon after opening, a well-dressed gentleman with dark hair and a beard entered, immediately asking to speak with the owner. The first thing I noticed were his kind eyes and submissive nature. He definitely had the tall, dark, and handsome thing going for him. Once I introduced myself, he got down to business with a polite smile.

“I apologize for showing up without an appointment, but I got a lead on this painting and wanted to follow up on it right away. I’m looking to purchase and pay cash if you have it…or can point me in the right direction.”

I returned his polite smile with one of my own, “If you can provide me with the details, I’d be happy to check our inventory for you.”

He pulled out his phone, tapping away to pull up a picture, “It's the Cazador (The Hunter), by Luis Magin…a 20th century Maya oil painting.”

I could feel my blood run cold as my body tensed. This was a missing painting listed in the National Stolen Art File. I was taken aback that this man would be asking for stolen artwork. He didn’t seem the type.

I laughed nervously, “Sir, I’m sorry…but we don’t sell stolen art. I’m not sure why you were sent here…”

He reached to pull a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and held it up, revealing Damien’s name scribbled on it. I could feel my breathing pick up as I fought to stay calm. Something felt wrong about this.

“I was told you could put me in contact with Damien Ravenwood…”

He seemed a little pushier now, like that name was supposed to magically solve the problem.

I shook my head, “I no longer associate with Damien Ravenwood…for obvious reasons. I don’t allow black market antiquities in my gallery.”

The man narrowed his eyes slightly, “My apologies. It must be a misunderstanding…”

His words trailed off as he reached inside the breast pocket of his suit jacket to pull out a business card, handing it over as he continued, “If he happens to show up…for any reason at all, please give me a call. I’d love to lock him down for a few minutes of his time.”

I glanced at the name on the card, Vincent Delacroix. It was obviously fake - a mashup of two famous painter’s names. There was nothing else on the card but a phone number. I gave him a tight-lipped smile as I waved the card in the air, “Yeah, sure. Mr. Delacroix, I’ll be sure to send him your way.”

There was something seriously off with this guy. I wasn’t sure if he was a black-market buyer or working undercover. Either way, I did not want to be in the middle of it. ‘Mr. Delacroix’ nodded and smiled before moving toward the exit. He paused halfway to the door, turning back in my direction, “I’m assuming you no longer have contact with Miguel Collazo either then? Or Persephone, by chance?

I could feel my jaw clench at the mention of Collazo and my black-market alias. I shook my head, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve had any dealings with those individuals.”

He gave me a charming smile in return, “Yeah, I thought that might be the case. Never hurts to ask...Thank you for your time, Miss Carnahan.”

He hesitated briefly, still smiling as he turned to leave. Once he finally exited the building, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.

I was startled from my thoughts when my archivist, Emily, appeared at my side. “Who was that?” she asked.

“Honestly, I have no idea…if he shows back up, come get me. No one else talks to him. Understood?”

She nodded in agreement.

The day was certainly taking a turn that I hadn’t expected. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about as it was, it felt like something else had just been added to the list.

Chapter 2: The Divine Source

✨If you would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to shoot me a DM or leave a comment.

A/N: SURPRISE! I know I said I wouldn’t start posting until Closed Position was complete, but it’s taking me for fucking ever to finish that one and I think I’ve made you wait long enough. Since I’ve got a decent start with this lovey adventure, I’ll go ahead and start posting. 😘

Now that we’ve gotten the first chapter out of the way, what are your thoughts? How are we feeling about Mya and Frankie? We definitely started with a bang (no pun intended).

I know I teased that Veracruz would be making an appearance. It turns out…he may have a slightly bigger role than I originally planned. We need a little extra tension with Frankie and I think Veracruz will serve as an excellent plot device for that. How do we feel about him so far? 🤭

We had another special appearance too. Anyone want to take a guess on who Mya’s surprise visitor is?

In the next chapter: Mya will drop in to visit the boys, Frankie has a decision to make, Mya accidentally gets a little nerdy on Frankie, and Frankie and Veracruz cross paths. Please do share your predictions. 😏

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[taissasspidergirl]

red eyes

gn reader (i made sure there were no pronouns used. let me know if i somehow still managed to make a mistake, my brain is so weird)

minors and ageless blogs dni.

a/n: this inspiration behind this is insane. which is why it may look rushed, or not long enough. this was purely self-indulgent as wanda can save us all. proofread but i wrote this as i went so there might be mistakes left. enjoy reading leave any feedback if you have any lets gooo

w/c: 3.7 k ish

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, questions about drug consumption. gay reader. gay wanda. shuri and riri trying to play matchmakers. reader being a mess. makeout, reader and wanda match their freak. that’s about it i think? let me know if i missed anything!!

It starts below the cut :)

She was like a dream. Angel. Dream angel? You had no idea what she could be because your eyes were focused on hers. How they could lead you into a never ending forest that you’d gladly get lost into. Your legs nearly gave out when she tucked her hair behind her ear and fixed her suit. A simple action. And yet it was enough for you to act like a teenager all over again.

“Are you opening a tab or…?” The bartender asked, pointing towards your drink, interrupting any further thought your brain could conjure about the stranger.

“I’m…I think I’m good here. Thank you.” You mutter more than you speak, too entranced by the redhead who’s leaned against the wall, twirling a drink in her hand. Sliding a generous tip as an apology for the amount of zoning out you've been doing, you slide off the barstool and shake off your nerves.

Why were you even feeling like this?

The music was blasting so loud that you can feel the vibration of the bass traveling through your body, a pleasant distraction from the current shivers. You wonder where Shuri and Riri went off too but are slightly grateful that they lost you. You're not sure you could handle their teasing on top of your current state. Which would be painfully obvious that something was going on.

As you walk through the crowd of dancing bodies you allow yourself to relax, following the rhythm. For a minute it works. You ignore the stranger’s entracing presence. Or it could just be the alcohol traveling in your blood that’s making you think this way. Either way you’re successful at forgetting her, so much so that you don’t feel a pair of hands around your waist.

“I almost lost you.” It’s like time froze. You don’t know much what to say, much less think. What can you even do in this situation? It almost felt like an eternity before you take another drink of liquid courage and turn around, mentally steeling yourself. Right. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve ever flirted with someone, right?

“Ah, there you are.” Shuri playfully pushes you away. You nearly choke, eyes widening to see that the mysterious woman you feared was in fact, your best friend.

“You can at least pretend you’re happy to see us.” Riri chuckles as she notices how lost you looked.

“It’s not that. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.” You make another attempt to drink before Shuri stops you in midair.

“I hope it was a pleasant surprise.”

“Hey, you were the ones who abandoned me.” 

“Uh, I thought you told us that you’d join us later on?” Riri furrows her brows. Shuri checks your temperature before leaning in to whisper closely in your ear. “Did you take anything else other than alcohol? Because seriously–”

“What? No, no, I didn’t, I’m just…”

And there she was again. This time she’s dancing with someone, with her hands around them. You can’t tell their exact gender but you know they’re lucky. You yearn to feel the heat of her body against yours, those hands to guide your movements and those eyes to devour you.

“Yeah, okay. We’re putting you on water from now on.”

You can hardly hear what Shuri is saying, your eyes trained on the redhead. You never wished you were someone else until now. She whispers something to them, making them laugh and you feel a swirl travel uncomfortably to the pit of your abdomen.

“I don’t know Shuri…I think it’s more of a girl problem than a high problem.”

“What?”

“Look at what’s happening.” Riri points to you, who’s looking at the woman who is now looking at…you. She doesn’t even blink, instead pulling the person she’s with closer, staring at you, nearly challenging you to break your stare. And that seems to be enough to get you out of your trance because you shake your head, grounding back into reality. 

“What is…what?” Your heart is racing uncontrollably, in all sorts of different patterns. 

“Damn. I wish I could've filmed that. You were in another world.” Shuri snickers as she waves a hand in front of you. You hardly blink, making Riri look at you in concern.

“Okay, seriously what is going on with you? You sure you didn’t take anything?”

“I’m afraid Cupid shot that poor heart of yours.” At Shuri’s laughter you blink hard, turning away from the green eyed woman to your friends.

“Who?” Yeah. You definitely need a seat because your legs are completely giving out. That and you feel delusional, you think you’ve seen a hint of a smirk but that could be a trick of the light and your brain going hazy.

Your friends look at each other before guiding you to the bar, sitting you down. You appreciate their concern but it’s nothing big. You’re just being dramatic. Your ears barely register what they are saying. You hardly see the glass of water in front of you, her eyes still stuck in your mind, nearly enough to make your skin stick with sweat.

Downing the drink in one go, you take a deep breath, leaning into Shuri’s comforting touch.

“I did not expect to have to play matchmaker on my trip. Say Riri, are you down with me?

“Woah, woah, woah. No one is playing matchmaker. There is no match to be made. And we’re here to make you enjoy your vacation, not give you any work.” You interrupt, downing your glass of water in one go, choking miserably as the woman– stranger, angel? approaches you. 

“Are you sure? Because right now you’re– Wanda?”

“Shuri. It’s a pleasant surprise to see you. What gives?” Wanda, you’ve learned, leans in and hugs Shuri, offering a polite handshake to Riri. You could listen to that husky voice and her accent all day on tape.

“I’ve been on vacation from Wakanda, and my good friend here offered me a place to stay.” She gestures to you, which you take as a cue to act normal. But how can you when you feel like you’re going to melt at any moment because right now Wanda is looking at you and offering her hand. God her hands are so soft.

“Wait, you all…know each other?” 

You mirror Riri’s question in your mind, trying not to look too overly interested, you think you’ve already done enough with your staring.

“We go way back. Wanda was in a college exchange programme in Wakanda. A little before we met.”

“And how do you know each other?” This time Wanda turns to you and you nearly choke on air. You really needed to get a grip on yourself.

“Uh…college…volleyball?” You uncontrollably drop your voice to a whisper. Your whole body trembles under her gaze, a shiver trembling throughout your entire body. It’s uncomfortable, yet addictive.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She leans her ear closer to your lips and it takes all the courage to not stumble on your words. Her scent invades your senses. It’s something sweet and floral, yet so heady that it’s entrapping.

“Volleyball. College.” 

You were better than this. You don’t think out of all the people you’ve spoken to you were this miserable. Fortunately for you she doesn’t pay any mind. In fact she almost finds it amusing. It’s refreshing to most overly confident and shallow people she’s met. You were refreshing, in a way.

“It was a tie, if you’re asking.” Shuri nudges Wanda, trying to hold back her laugh from how absolutely of a mess you are right now. You wonder if she’s trying to put in good words in your honour. 

“From what I heard it was pretty impressive.” Riri adds as she signals the bartender for another set of drinks.

“It was forever ago. Besides, with the internship at The Daily Bugle I don’t think I have much time.” You steal her drink, ignoring her look of indignation. 

“But I heard you still play occasionally? Next week we’re going to train with other friends, just for the good memories. You can join us if you want, Wanda. Besides, we have lots of catching up to do.”

“How could I not?” And right now she was staring directly at you. This time, you choke on your drink.

“Shit, are you okay?” You feel your heart beating out of your chest at the way she rubs your back. Air. You need air.

“I think…outside. I need to go outside.”

“Do you need our help?” 

“I’m fine, Shuri, I just need a quick breather…”

You need more than that.

“Why don’t we go outside? Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, I think you two need to go outside. Riri and I will stay here and look over our things.”

“Is that okay with you?” Wanda turns to look at you for confirmation and you numbly nod your head. Honestly, you’d go anywhere she asks you to.

As you walk away they subtly shoot you a thumbs up, only replacing with a wave and a farewell when Wanda promises to get you back.

She leads you to a set of stairs, the sound of music slowly fading away. She has her hand on your back the whole time. Not too forceful but guiding. As you reach the final set of stairs she leads you to a balcony. The cold air is inviting, instantly cooling your nerves. Wanda lets go of you and you almost…no. Be honest with yourself. You miss her warmth.

“Feeling any better?”

If she keeps on talking with that accent and that voice you don’t think you’ll be.

“I’m alright. Just…y’know. Those evenings. One of those evenings. I mean I’m not always like this, I’m chill. I mean not chill chill, but…” You were rambling, waving your hand as you cleared your throat. 

“I get you. Got too overwhelmed?”

“Yeah…” There is no way that a question could take that long to answer.

“Mhm. That happens. It felt like everything was closing in on you, right?” 

“Yeah. Like I couldn’t escape.” You’re not sure how she can still hear you with how low you’re speaking. Maybe it’s because you’re missing how close you got.

“Well. I’m wishing that’s not the case for you right now.” How did basic human decency turn into a new standard for you? With the way she was smiling softly at you and keeping a careful eye, you think you have your answer.

“I’m alright, thanks…Wanda.” Saying her name felt so good. God you’re weird. She probably thinks you’re being weird right now.

“I’m glad you are…?” She trails off, waiting for you to finish her sentence. What could she want? Your name? Right. Your name. 

After giving her your name she tries it out. You’ve never paid much attention to it up until now and you swear you only want to hear it out of her. In all the ways you can think of.

“It’s nice to officially meet you. Shuri’s never done a presentation for her friends before…looks like I’ve been missing out.”

“Oh, you didn’t miss out much. I mean I’m the least interesting out of the bunch. Really.”

This is not the coolest way to introduce yourself.

“Says who? In the little amount of time I got to know you, I know you’re a competitive volleyball player. And you’re interning for a company? I think that you’re more interesting than you let on.”

“That was a longtime ago. I don’t have any more of my reflexes anymore.”

“I think reflexes stay with us forever. The more you practice the more it stays. Muscle memory kind of thing.”

“Right. Right. I totally get that, I mean…it stays…but I’m not sure. I don’t think I am as good as I was before.”

“Really? But aren’t you going to play next week?”

How the hell did she remember that?

“The girls are just saying that. I’m not sure if I’ll even be there. I might be there to watch or coach, but that’s about it.”

“You coach?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“I could see that. You seem to be observant. And you were pretty much…observant back there.” She laughs, the sound echoing softly in the air. You almost forget what she said…something about you being observant? wait. Observant? Shit, you’ve been caught– “I was wondering what it would take for you to talk to me. Guess all you needed was the right incentive.”

Woah, woah…what exactly is happening?

“You’re making up too many ideas.” It was so nonsensical but her gaze darkened at your trembling tone, completely indifferent to your words. She hasn’t felt that chase in a while. Or a feeling so strong, so indescribable, that it’s almost hypnotising. She felt your stare on her. She felt your presence. It was so ridiculous but she needed to know you, to have you. Maybe she’ll ask Shuri questions about you. Or just skip the questions entirely.

“I’m never one to make up ideas or lie.” 

“You’re…so impossible.” Your body feels a random wave of warmth. You’re not entirely sure if it’s the alcohol taking its effect if it’s just her.

“Most people like that about me.” She leans against the railing, smiling that same smirk you could’ve sworn you imagined. Just having her like this felt real. A gust of wind flew past her hair and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring. And it’s like she knows, because the minute you’re about to speak she steps closer to you.

“There you go with the staring again.”

“I’m sorry. I really am, I didn’t…I’m sorry. It’s just you’re so…”

You really are awful at this.

“So…what?” The redhead mock grins, her laughter making your stomach swirl with need. The air hardly even cools you anymore, your body is now at an all time heat. She held so much energy that you nearly felt intimidated. It felt like all oxygen was sucked in and she held you completely still. It’s a fate you’ll gladly accept. “There are so many things going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“You’re so pretty I can hardly even focus.” Your heart races so fast you’re nearly out of breath as you finish speaking. “And I don’t know what’s wrong with me but you’ve got something about you that’s making me forget everything I know. You’re the only one I ever really want to know about. I know how crazy I sound, I mean I…” You don’t even stop to think before you talk. You realised how fucked you are when she raises a hand to interrupt you.

“Slow down for me, alright?” 

Yeah. You’re so fucked. She’s probably going to tell your friends how much of a fucking weirdo you are–

“Look, for some weird reason I feel…I feel the same way too. And this is going to sound so weird but I think it’s perfectly normal for you to feel that way. You’re going to think I’m insane but I’ve been thinking a lot that something like this’ll happen.”

Silence ensues. A thousand alarm bells ring through your mind. And through hers. She should just apologise and leave it as it is–

“I think it’s…more than just normal. I mean I’ve been feeling this weird energy too and I thought if I spoke about it to Shuri she’s probably going to overextend her stay.” You speak clearly, not out of breath. You hold her stare, feeling brave, and safe. It’s so unexplainable. Maybe one of those theories you’ve heard of, or something more.

“I take it we got each other under our spell.” The redhead sighs with relief, drawing even closer to you and tentatively taking your hand in hers. You allow it. For some reason the touch feels more electric than before. It’s a pleasant shock. One that you don’t want to find letting go anytime soon.

“I think you’re the one who’s got me more under a spell than anything. Totally threw me off.”

“Oh, I did?”

“You did.”

You find yourself stepping closer to her, reaching for her other hand, tracing her pulse. You miss her low murmur, how she’s silently encouraging you to do more. To say more.

“You just have this pull to you, Wanda. If…you want to, I’d like to know more about you. And take you out sometime, maybe. If that’s what you want?” You were deflating again, your voice wavering. Just when everything was going perfect…

“I’d like that.” Her touch is so slow and tender it feels like you’re not even here.

“Huh?”

Her hands move to cup your cheeks, feeling the warmth of your skin. She doesn't say the words, not yet, but silently lets you know that you’ve got her right where she wants to. Just as you have her. Even then…just for you, she would repeat anything you need to hear.

“I said I’d like that. A lot, actually. I don’t know what this feeling is… But I want to find out more about it. With you, in our own time.” She speaks so softly that you can’t help but step closer, impossibly closer than what you already were. She truly has you under a spell.

“Then…good.” You smile, lifting her hands to your lips before gently kissing each knuckle.

“Good?”

“Good.”

“More than anything?” She leans in, her lips barely brushing against yours. Her hands let go of yours, wanting to feel your heartbeat

“I promise.” Your voice wavers as her eyes flit into yours, dropping down to gaze at your lips, before she gazes back at you again, silently asking you for permission to kiss you.

It’s a request you grant.

Her fingers tugs your shirt, your lips playfully brushing together as she smiles against them. She switches positions, tugging on your shirt as she walks backwards, leading you further away from the balcony, until her back hits the wall.

“Wait, Wanda…is this what you want? You know we don’t have to–”

“Kiss me, please.” It’s like your brain is wired to listen to her. You break the distance, your lips colliding. She’s aggressive. Carefully aggressively. Her lips taste of strawberries, making you hum softly. They’re so sweet you can hardly feel them against yours. Until she traps your bottom lip with her teeth, teasingly pulling back, keeping steady eye contact with you.

It’s like you forgot how to breathe entirely.

Her pupils are so blown you can hardly see the colour of her eyes. You try to resist the urge to stare at her heaving chest, wanting nothing more but to slowly take her apart right then and there. A swirling sensation at the pit of her abdomen, her hands itching to pull you impossibly closer to her, to feel you against her. It’s a feeling she’s rediscovering again. And it’s driving her mad with want, desire…and something more. She pulls you in again, her hands digging into your hips, making you groan into the kiss, completely unable to return it probably. You’re almost too drunk on her. It’s uncoordinated, messy, and yet…still so addictively intoxicating. Your hands move wherever you can touch, rapid and sporadic. It’s like you’ve known each other before, seemingly able to map out your sensitive areas.

Eventually, reluctantly, you’re both gasping for air, using each other as anchors. You laugh after a while, feeling your heart rate slow down to a normal rhythm. 

“I’m taking you out on a real date, alright?” You press your forehead against hers, relishing in the way she wraps her arms around you.

“I know you will.” She whispers, kissing the tip of your nose before capturing your lips one last time. You lean against her, dropping your head to her shoulder. As you close your eyes images come wafting through her mind, images of realities that have yet to happen soon. 

[pannman]

Alastor deals with transphobia towards reader headcannons

Tw: gender dysphoria, transphobia, murder, hurt/comfort

He doesn't know a lot about transgenders but he tries to understand

You explain to him that back in his time no one had a name for it and it wasn't a very accepting time (which he fully agrees). You tell him that sex is your body and gender is your mind and that you were born with a different gender than your sex. You explain that it causes you to be uncomfortable in your own body and going by your old name and pronouns

After thoroughly explaining it, Alastor will try to use your new name and pronouns as often as possible in order to learn them faster

It truly makes you feel great that he is trying so hard

But let's say one day he's not with you and someone is disrespectful. They say hateful things. It hurts you deeply and you're still really self conscious about defending yourself

You return home and immediately isolate yourself and cry. Alastor knows something is up and appears in your room to try and comfort you and also find out what happened

You are a bit worried that he won't understand why it hurt you so much but you tell him anyway. To your surprise he is furious and demands to know who this loathsome sinner is and where he might find them

If you're comfortable revealing that information he'll first tend to you and do whatever you need him to. He'll hold you and tell you that you are stronger than you realize. He'll bring you your favorite snacks and put on your favorite show even though he's not fond of television.

Then when he's sure you are going to be OK and you are fine to be left alone he'll track down this heathen and broadcast their carnage. He'll warn all of hell not to make the same mistake they did

Now if you refuse to give him any information about them because you don't want him to rip someone apart for hurting your feelings (still valid), he'll be a bit bummed but he'll respect that and simply spend all his time making sure you feel loved and validated

He'll cook for you, cuddle with you, and speak words of affection and affirmation to you till you fall asleep in his arms

Now if someone dared to be disrespectful of your gender with him nearby they would be torn to shreds before they can even begin to beg for mercy

Unless you step in quick enough to dissolve the situation. In which Alastor would simply scare the ever living daylights out of them and make them apologize

Then he would turn to you and make sure you are ok

In short, he may not understand the whole mind vs body thing but he does understand what's important to you

And will always care about what's important to you

[nethhiri]

Chapter 65: Damned Punks in Distress

Warnings: Murder, Violence

It was hard to admit, but you were helpless in this situation. Even if you went to fight, Kaido would crush you before you could do anything. No one here would survive that. At the very least, you had to preserve yourself so that you could heal and revive those that were victims. 

"Why did we stop?!" Quincy grabbed your arm. "We have to go help them!"

"I can't do that."

"Why not?!"

"I will not be responsible for sending you all to your graves." You pointed to the shadowy figure on the island. It was hard for them to see since the ship was far out. "That's Emperor Kaido."

"What?" She had panic in her eyes.

"Captain Kid will do his best to protect the crew. There's nothing we can do right now that will help them." You continued. "Our job will be to help the injured once Kaido's left. We'll wait until he's gone. Then we'll return as fast as possible."

You knew that Kid and Killer were no match for Kaido. The crew knew it, too. You just hoped that Killer would use his wit to get them out of a bad situation. You wanted to rush in so badly to save them, yet you knew you had to be smart about it. The captain in you had to restrain your impulse. Your job was to keep the crew safe. Kid wouldn't want you to put his crew in danger and neither would Killer. No matter what happened, you were sure you could use your devil fruit to fix it. 

It was hard to watch. The rest of the crew couldn't see, which was for the best. Kaido swiftly put down anyone who raised a hand to him. There was a lot of dust and debris obscuring the fight. When it settled, there wasn't much movement on the island. Then, you could make out some of the rival crews hauling Kid Pirates to their ships. That made your rage flare. It was all a set up. You didn't see what happened to any of the commanders. They were too far away and there was too much going on. Red crescents marked your palms where your nails had been digging into them. Your hands were shaking with a mixture of anger and anxiety and they didn't stop until Kaido and the traitorous ships had gone. 

In your haste, you ran your ship straight into the ground. There was no time to waste anchoring and rowing to shore. The crew on your ship were right behind you as you and Mini hurried along the beach. Everyone had orders to bring the dead and the injured all to one place. You rode Mini, trying desperately to find any trace of Kid or Killer. The scents Minerva followed all ended in failure. There were no signs of Heat or Wire either. You hid the worry on your face as you came back to the others. If you started to lose your cool, they would all follow suit. 

There were quite a few victims that had perished, many more injured. You focused on the dead of your own crew first, then the injured, then a few of the other crews. It took longer than you would have liked to revive the dead. Kaido had taken the Victoria, which had some replacement organs stockpiled in the infirmary. You had to replace everything that needed to be replaced by hand. It proved too difficult to heal more than one at a time, which slowed you considerably. While you were healing the injured, you ordered the able bodied to collect anything of use from the castle. Unfortunately, everything had already been raided by Kaido's men. That meant you would need to do a supply run before you went after them. Before you had finished healing the Kid Pirates, you were already thinking of a rescue plan, or a revenge plan, depending on what you would find.

Next, you healed several of the rival crew, trying to get information from them. They proved very cooperative once they were introduced to the barrel of your gun. You learned what happened and where the rest of the Kid Pirates had been taken. You also learned that Kaido preferred to break his captives rather than kill them, which was a relative relief. At least they weren't dead, not yet. Kid's behavior may still put them at risk. You knew he wasn't going to play nice with them. Depending on Kaido's patience, he might kill him to simply be rid of the annoyance.

When you were done with the informants, you shot them in the head. None of them knew where Kaido's headquarters was so they were worthless to you. Apparently they were worthless to their own crews if they were left behind. No one said much of anything as the ship was prepared to leave. There was no point staying on the island. Even though it was growing dark, you knew no one wanted to spend the night there. They were all pretty shaken up, still in shock. You used your devil fruit to push the ship from the sand. After consulting your charts, you set a course for the nearest non-government island. There was nothing in your charts about this island called Wano. You weren't sure how you were going to find it. 

You took it upon yourself to be the lookout tonight. There was no way you would be able to sleep. It seemed several others had the same idea. Their faces were pale, their eyes were red-rimmed, and they had blank stares. You took a moment to consider the events of the day through their eyes. Maybe you were desensitized. They were probably traumatized watching their friends bleed out or be maimed in front of their eyes. It didn't bother you very much anymore seeing the dead. You had seen so much already, and now it wasn't as permanent as it should be thanks to your devil fruit.

There wasn't any food on board to prepare for a meal. Even if there was, you didn't think anyone would have an appetite. Minerva sat with you, watching over the black sea. She nudged your hand with something. It was a blue scale. You were puzzled at first. Was it from a sea king? Kaido's scale?  You scratched the boar between her ears. This would be how you found Wano, hopefully. 

Sailing through the night, the ship arrived in port as dawn broke. The crew gathered on deck in anticipation of disembarking. They had the same somber expressions as they wore through the night. You sighed. You were going to have to do something about this.

"Listen up. Wipe those sad looks off your faces. No one is dead and if they were dead, they're back now. Do you honestly think that the crew that was taken would die so easily? Or the captain? Or the other officers? They're all waiting for us. You don't have time to mope. You think Eustass "Captain" Kid would want you to sit back and cry about it? No! He would want you to get off your asses and raise hell! So let's give them hell.''

"Yeah! Come on, guys. Let's get this shit and get moving! We have a captain to rescue!" Dive followed your pep talk with her own addition. 

The crew seemed noticeably more motivated after that and rushed down the gangplank to get their assigned goods. You thanked Dive for her support. You knew it must be hard to push something so traumatic to the back of their minds for now. You tried to remember the first traumatizing event you had witnessed, but there had been so many it was hard to come up with something. Was mental health support part of your contract? You sure hoped not. You would probably fuck them up even worse if you tried to therapize them. Best you could do was teach them how to shove the bad memories deep down somewhere. You had been repressing trauma for years and you turned out.... Yeah maybe we should kidnap a therapist. 

You wanted to get supplies and get out as soon as possible. It was hard to decide how much to stock up since you didn't know how far away Wano was. That was the other reason you wanted to leave as soon as you were able to. You had no idea how long it would take to get there. While you were in town, you would sniff around to see if anyone knew of it, but you wouldn't spend extra time trying to find out. Mini could lead you in the right direction regardless. 

By noon, you still had no information. What you lacked in information, you made up for with supplies. You had about all you needed. The others would be regrouping at your ship soon. As you made your way back, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It wasn't malicious, however. At least, you didn't think it was. The track record you had with observation haki was dismal. With caution, you turned in the direction of the feeling. A familiar face was turned in your direction, a bright smile spreading across their face.

"Y/N! I thought that was you. Fancy seeing you here!"

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the Snake Den?" 

The woman was none other than Jade, or Madam Tempest, as she was known to most, the madam of the brothel you had visited some time ago and one of the women you had rescued in your previous life. 

"There are many Snake Dens." She winked. "Why are you here? And where are those strapping gentlemen you were with?"

You told her of all that happened and of your intentions to get them back. 

"Wano..." Jade thought for several moments. "Yes, I think I may be able to help you." She gestured for you to come along. 

Jade took you to her establishment on this island. It looked very much like the one you had visited previously. You waited in the lounge, watching the people who entered and exited. Jade seemed to have a thriving business. She was currently talking into no less than four transponder snails at once, picking up one or two at a time to shout something. You felt guilty sitting there with a drink in your hand. You needed to be on your way to Wano, not waiting around. 

You threw back the drink, trying not to think about what could be happening the rest of the crew. You were most worried for Kid, not because you cared for him more than anyone else, but because he was the most likely to get himself punished with that loud mouth of his. It wouldn't take much for him to talk himself into an early grave. Killer was smart. He would be able to take care of himself just fine. They had rescued you, now it was your turn to rescue them. 

"Good news," Jade said. "I can help you get to Wano."

"You can?" You were shocked, pleasantly so. 

"One of my girls came from there. She says she can get you there."

"Great. Bring her out. We need to leave."

"Well... she's not here." Jade added, "It will take a few days for her to travel here."

"I can't wait that long. I need to go tonight." You continued, "I appreciate the offer, but my boar can track Kaido to Wano. I'll get there on my own."

"Y/N, Wano is difficult to get into from what I understand. Finding it is one thing, but entering the country is entirely another, not to mention navigating it."

You considered her words. She was right. You knew it would be easier if you waited for this person. If you couldn't find a way in, what would the point be? 

"Fine. I'll wait. But you need to get her as soon as possible." 

"One more thing," Jade rubbed her arm, "I would like to help personally. It's the least I could do to repay you... and... anything I can do to help Heat... I admit your news makes me worry. We exchanged a few letters since we met."

"Of course. Thank you."

You had a suspicion that her and Heat exchanged more than simply bodily fluids. It seems your suspicion was right. 

More than a week passed and you were getting more agitated by the second. There was a delay with the informant's travel. You spent the days pouring over charts and coming up with plans based on the limited information you had. Jade had selected a few of her girls to come along as well, the ones that knew how to fight. The crew and yourself sparred with them to make sure they would be able to fend for themselves. You didn't have energy to spare babysitting them. Jade and yourself had decided that her and her girls would infiltrate the brothels of Wano to gather information. Everyone knew men didn't just spill seed to whores. They spilled secrets, too. 

The evenings were spent at the local bars, drinking to keep your thoughts at bay. Your mood was generally sour while you waited to get the show on the road. After the first few nights, most of the bar patrons knew not to bother you. Time could not move fast enough. If something happened to any of the crew while you were just waiting around, you would have a difficult time forgiving yourself. 

By the clap of a hand on your shoulder, you knew that someone wanted trouble. You turned slowly, laying eyes on two marines. You turned back and took a drink from your glass. 

"Can I help you?" You didn't have time for this shit. 

"Ma'am, you're under arrest."

The marine slapped a wanted poster down on the table. He pointed to your picture. You picked it up. It was a new poster. The picture wasn't new but the bounty was. That must be what gave them the audacity to approach you. You could tell by their uniforms that they were low ranking. 

"Address me with due respect." If they were going to rudely interrupt your brooding, they should do it properly.

"Sea Snake, former Captain Y/N L/N, you are under arrest." 

"I'm fine here. Thank you." You added, "I'm feeling generous so I'll let you leave."

The man addressed his companion, "Can she do that?"

"No, of course not." 

The man pulled your chair out. 

"Let's go. I order you to allow yourself to be cuffed."

You pulled your coat out from under you, spreading it to show the symbols on it. "Do you know what these are?"

"The back of marine officials' jackets."

"That's right. And do you see how many I have? And you know how I got them?"

"Well, yes that's why your bounty is so high." 

"So how do you think you two, petty officers, are any match for me?" 

They looked at each other, then to the poster, then to you. 

"Sorry to bother you."

They started to walk away. 

"Hold it." You barked. "I'm not feeling so generous anymore." 

They froze. You spun your gun into your hand from your holster and shot a hole clean through the head of one of them. The other one stood shaking with fear. 

"Come here." Venom dripped from your voice. "Bend over the table."

The man was shaking when he did as he was told. A sliver of metal split off from your bracer and was shaped into a small blade. You stood over him and sliced through his shirt to reveal his back. With the blade you wrote one word into his back: WANO. 

"You tell Captain Von Kossa I'll be waiting for him," you bent over him and spoke lowly into his ear. 

The man didn't so much as whimper or shed a tear. Maybe he was too terrified. Maybe he was actually brave. If that were the case, you would be impressed. You were growing impatient. It was time to put this saga to an end. If Von Kossa wasn't a coward he would meet you there, but you wouldn't be shocked if he didn't show. The other two had been cowards. He was part of the same crop. 

"I-it's Vice Admiral Von Kossa now, m-ma'am."

A slow grin spread across your features. Victory would be that much sweeter when you turned him into dust. 

The next day, Jade's girl finally arrived. She had lived in Wano and was stolen some time ago. She went by Goldie and she had always wanted to go back but had no means of doing so until now. The moment she arrived, the Fate's Wraith disembarked, heading for Wano at full tilt. The journey there would take several more weeks, to your dismay. So much could happen in that time. 

The only comfort you had was holding onto Mini and burying your face in her fur. So badly you wished Kid and Killer were here to hold. You hoped they were still alive. You hoped everyone was still alive. Kaido may want to break Kid, or the other stronger members to use as his own, but what about the others? Would he care to keep rookies alive? Even if you weren't particularly fond of any of them, Kid was. They were his crew and if any harm came to them, you would feel at fault. You didn't want Kid to be disappointed in you, or angry, that you couldn't come faster. 

Each night on the journey, you had revolving nightmares of being stranded on the island again, being captured by marines again, and being unable to help your crewmates as Kaido cut them down. Most nights you ended up waking up in a cold sweat and heading to the deck to keep watch, relieving whoever was out there. A few times, you had to coach the crew through storms. They were used to the Victoria Punk, but not this ship. Then you still had the duty of keeping everyone healthy. There were minor injuries and sicknesses along the way. 

As you stood at the bow, you thought about how this was not the way you imagined returning to your captain-hood. The wind was cruelly stripping the moisture from your eyes and mouth. The waves thrashed against the hull as if they were trying to push you back. Even the Sun's warm, gentle rays turned harsh, burning your cheeks and nose. It weighed on your heart, the absence of your two loves. The unknown of their well-being. Maybe you should have rushed back to shore to fight. Even if you didn't stand a chance against Kaido, you might share whatever fate Kid and Killer were experiencing. And if it was death, so be it. It would be worth dying if it was with them, or for them. 

Tag list: @bbnbhm @wgwingguns @nocturnalrorobin @lycanthropemaul

[improbable-outset]

Do you remember when you asked Miguel to fix your watch?

I’m just saying, he definitely did what you asked but he made some additional changes that you won’t be aware of (because they’re only visible to him)

Might’ve linked your watch with his monitor so he can read your bio readings

Now Miguel’s watching the screen that displayed your blood pressure and heart rate increasing and your hormones going haywire. Meanwhile you’re getting your new man’s dick wet 🫣

[dunmeshiminimumwage]

back when i worked at [large chain coffee store], i tried to unionize my workplace. my manager sat me down and gave me a very guilt trip-y talk. lots of "but i thought we were a family :(" and "you don't *really* know what unionization does, do you?" i played dumb and managed to avoid being fired, but. chilchuck momence.