#(those are the established ones i remember for now.????)

[pukanavis]

Kanna Idol Story 3

⏱︎ 2 years since the establishment of ES. ⚲ Season Avenue, a shopping district on the outskirts of the ES building.

Raika: ♪~♪~♪

Kanna: …

Raika: ~...♪

Kanna: …

Raika: …’Scuse me, did ya need somethin’ from me?

Kanna: …

Raika: Can ya hear me? Hellooo?

Kanna: Ah, pardon me. I was lost in my thoughts for a moment there.

Though, what I should really say is that outwardly expressing my emotions is not a strong suit of mine.

Oftentimes, interviewers will get worried and halt our conversation just to ask if I’m still alive.

Raika: Ehihi~♪

Kanna: Is there something amusing about that?

Raika: Uh, ya mean that wasn’t supposed to be a joke?

Kanna: Humour is a skill that I lack, as much as it pains me to admit.

Raika: Hey, ya seem plenty funny to me… yer a bit of an odd one, Mr, uh…Kanna, was it?

Kanna: Yes, that’s correct. I’m glad you remembered my name.

To my dismay, it seemed that you had forgotten all about me.

Raika: I’m real, real sorry! With this bird-brain of mine, my memories go out the window after just a few steps, ya see!

Actually, I get the feelin’ that we’ve spoken about this already…Kanna-sama, do ya really swear that I’ve saved ya before?

Kanna: You remembered our conversation perfectly then? I wouldn’t describe that as ‘bird-brained’. It seems rather contradictory—No, that’s not it. This is just a simple mistake, isn’t it?

Raika: Well ya see, it was quite the shock to have ya approach me out of the blue like that. It’s really quite hard to forget somethin’ so jaw-droppin’, even if I wanted to.

Kanna: I agree.

That’s precisely why it’s simply impossible for me to ever forget you, the one who saved me. 

Though to be fair, I possess the sort of brain that makes it a challenge to delete memory data, so the past isn’t something that I have the option to forget.

Raika: Deary me…it’s much nicer bein’ able to forget about all the bad stuff.

Kanna: Without learning from the mistakes and humiliation of the past, a human being cannot hope to grow.

Granted, what comes after growth is a mystery all of its own. Is there a limit? Why pursue it? What benefit comes from it?

This act of exhausting my life to ultimately contribute to the evolution of the human race is something I’ve always found myself questioning the purpose of.

Raika: ♪~♪~♪

Kanna: Are you listening?

Raika: Oh, I didn’t think your story had anythin’ to do with me…somethin’ about the human race, was it?

Deary me, I truly think there must be some kind of mix up goin’ on here, Kanna-sama. There just isn’t a world where a bum like myself could’ve been the one to save you.

Might ya be mistaking me fer a different fellow?

Kanna: No. I’m certain it was you, Raika Hojo-san.

The day it happened, you were standing by the roadside, singing like a bird, just as you are now.

Raika: Ehihi~. I’m useless and barely have a penny to my name, ya see, so puttin’ on little street shows like this is how I’ve been earnin’ my keep fer a while now.

Kanna: Actually, there’s something I’ve been wondering ever since I first saw you.

Do you have a permit for putting on these shows? It’s possible that you’re breaking some sort of law by not carrying one.

Raika: Law!? Like what!? Are they goin’ to arrest me fer being a wrong ‘un!?

Kanna: It’s possible that you’ll receive a warning or be put under police surveillance.

Raika: No no no, I’m doomed! I’ll be sent straight back to the institution if I misbehave again!

Kanna: This ‘institution’ you speak of…about your confinement—

—Oh, just a moment. According to the research I just did on my phone, street performers and unauthorised advertisers are in fact prohibited in this area.

Raika: Y-Ya mean those kinds of laws really do exist?

Kanna: Yes, but please don’t fret.

As an endorser of the idol industry, and thereby musicians, I find it odd that ES would look at artistic works such as street shows involving singing and dancing and prohibit them from an area under their influence.

It’s contradictory of them, yes?

There’s a high probability that you could utilise this argument to defend your activities, whether by staging a protest or by taking it to court.

Raika: C-Court!? Ya mean this could escalate to that?

Kanna: Don’t worry about that yet. In order to protect you, I intend to utilise every possible means that I must. No matter what, I will save you.

That’s all.

Raika: Whyever would ya trouble yourself so much…?

Kanna: As I’ve already said, you saved me a long time ago. It is a deed that I must repay.

Causing trouble for others or indebting myself to them are both acts that I want to avoid.

And yet, I’ve found myself saved by you. You used your body as a shield to ‘erase’ the mistake that my immaturity and stupidity led me to make.

Even if you don’t remember it, even if this isn’t what you want…

It is an act that I will not forget, and nothing could be of more importance to me than repaying what you did.

That’s all.

Raika: Oh gee… I-I think I’ve wound up with some sorts of a problem child attached to me.

Kanna: No one’s ever evaluated me in such a way before. Thank you.

Raika: Uhm…uh, this all feels a bit complex fer my ol’ brain, but I think ya were tryin’ to say that I can keep singin’ by the roadside, weren’t ya?

Bein’ able to sing is enough to make my day, so I’d appreciate it if you could confirm just that one wee thing fer me.

Kanna: You really are quite simple, aren’t you?

Admittedly, I feel as though I admire that aspect of your personality. No, that’s not quite right…perhaps ‘envy’ would be a better word.

Raika: Ehihi, envy, ya say? Let’s sing together then ♪ You’re an idol just like me, aren’t ya?

To tell ya the truth, I’m still a little lost on what an idol actually is.

But if it means being something that sings, then we’re one in the same! The two of us are goin’ to be pals, I just know it ♪

Kanna: Your logic is sound, oddly enough.

However, that doesn’t negate the fact that an idol's voice is a product. To freely distribute it would be an affront to capitalism.

Though, on the other hand, we shouldn’t cause any problems as long as we don’t seek out donations and take care not to disrupt the rest of the public.

After all, the regulations in place prohibit specifically street performances—meaning a show of skill intended to raise money.

Raika: Right! No god or authority has the power to stop a bird from singin’!

Kanna: Is that so? Everytime we meet, I find that you’ve taught me something new.

Raika: Ya truly think so? I don’t think I’ve come up with anythin’ that hasn’t already been said before though?

Raika: Ehihi, fer as smart as ya look, ya know surprisingly little, Kanna-sama♪

Kanna: That’s true. Though the world hails me for being some sort of kid genius, I’m still just an ignorant, immature child.

That was the first vital truth that you taught me.

[aventurineswife]

Hey !!! How are you?? I love what you write so much so ure so talentedd !!

Also could u do an aventurine x reader where like they started dating not long ago and like aventurine notices self harm marks on reader’s arms ?? (If ure comfortable w/ that ofc)

“You Drew Stars Over My Scars”

Summary: In the early stages of your relationship, Aventurine notices scars on your arm. With quiet compassion and understanding, he addresses it gently, offering his support without judgment. As you share a vulnerable moment, he reassures you that he’s there for you, bringing lightheartedness and warmth to ease the conversation.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Emotional Support, Fluff and Angst, Healing.

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm, References to past emotional struggles

A/N: HELLO!!! I'm doing alright and I hope you are doing alright as well!! Thank you for appreciating my work! I put my best effort into writing each character as accurately as possible, even while balancing my personal life, so your support means a lot to me! 🤭💖🫶 Don’t worry about your request—I’m comfortable with it. But for anyone struggling with something similar, please reach out to someone you trust completely. It may not seem like much, but sharing is better than keeping everything to yourself. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here! Don’t hesitate, and remember to love yourself more! ❤️

It was one of those rare, quiet evenings. Aventurine had cleared his typically packed schedule, something he was only too willing to do since the two of you had started dating. After a whirlwind start, tonight felt like a pause – a chance for him to simply be with you, away from the risks and wagers that often defined his world.

You sat beside him on the couch, your arm resting casually against his. Aventurine noticed a faint change in your body language – a hint of self-consciousness, a slight turn of your wrist. The faint movement caught his eye, and he saw them – the small, faded scars along your arm.

He glanced up, meeting your eyes with a gentle look, saying nothing at first, allowing you the space to choose whether to share or to stay silent. But his hand reached out, fingers brushing along your forearm. The gesture was soft, free of judgment or expectation, just a comforting presence.

"Can I ask about these?" Aventurine asked softly, his tone inviting but unintrusive.

You hesitated, not used to this level of openness, especially when it came to scars from a part of your past you were still trying to make peace with. You shifted slightly, averting your gaze, but Aventurine’s hand gently anchored you there, his thumb brushing softly over your wrist. His eyes, usually so full of confidence, held only a quiet, calming sincerity.

“It was… it’s something I went through,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. “It’s… something I still struggle with, sometimes.”

Aventurine listened, his hand never leaving yours, his gentle touch reminding you that he was there, that he was listening and would wait as long as you needed to feel safe in sharing. After a beat, he spoke, his voice thoughtful and warm.

“You know,” he began softly, “I can’t pretend to know exactly what you’ve felt, what led you here. But… I do know about hiding things that hurt. I’ve got my own scars – maybe not the kind you can see,” he added, his smile faint but real, “but they’re there.”

The weight of his words settled around you, and you felt something shift – a wall you’d kept up out of habit, slowly lowering. You exhaled, feeling a bit of the tension release, as though you were finally in a space where you didn’t have to hide this part of yourself.

He leaned closer, his hand now holding yours firmly but gently, grounding you in the moment. "I'm here with you, okay? Whatever you’re going through, I want you to know it doesn’t make me see you any differently. You’re… important to me." The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, and it softened something deep within you.

“Thank you.” you said quietly, squeezing his hand back.

Aventurine tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “How about this – every time you feel like you’re slipping, like things get too much, you let me know? We can talk, or… not talk,” he said, a hint of his usual humor breaking through, “or we can find some ridiculous way to distract ourselves. I’ve got these mooncake cats I haven’t introduced you to yet.”

That earned a soft laugh from you, breaking the lingering tension in the room. He caught the sound, grinning as he pulled his phone out and showed you a photo of his silly, mooncake-shaped cats. He held it up with a playful smirk.

“These little guys reminds me every day not to take life too seriously. So, any time you need them, They're just a text away.” he added with a wink.

The lightheartedness lifted the weight from your heart, and you looked at Aventurine, grateful for his presence, his understanding, and his unspoken promise to be there, both in laughter and in the moments that were hard.

And as he pulled you into a gentle embrace, you felt it – the quiet assurance that, whatever scars you both carried, you didn’t have to bear them alone anymore.

[bookwormjust]

Insufferable duo (established relationship with Azriel, an afternoon with the IC, pairing together to tease Cassian)

The afternoon sunlight poured through the large windows of the House of Wind, casting a golden glow over the room as the Inner Circle gathered for a rare, peaceful moment together. It had been a long time since everyone could relax like this—no crises, no wars, no missions. Just laughter, conversation, and a chance to unwind. You were curled up beside Azriel on one of the plush couches, his arm draped casually over your shoulders, while Feyre, Rhysand, and Mor were scattered around the room, chatting easily.

And then there was Cassian. Loud, larger-than-life, and completely unsuspecting.

It had started innocently enough. Cassian had been boasting—again—about his latest training victory over a group of younger Illyrians, recounting the way he’d completely demolished them in a sparring match. He puffed out his chest, grinning like a fool, while Azriel sat quietly beside you, his lips twitching with barely-contained amusement.

You nudged Azriel’s leg with your knee, giving him a mischievous look that he immediately mirrored. There was a certain kind of unspoken language between the two of you, a silent understanding that could only come from years of knowing each other’s rhythms and moods. And right now? You were both thinking the same thing.

Cassian was way too easy to mess with.

“So, Cassian,” you started innocently, leaning forward in your seat. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling us you took down all the Illyrians—by yourself? Without any help?”

Cassian grinned wider, his wings giving a little satisfied twitch. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. They didn’t stand a chance.”

You shot Azriel a quick look, and he smirked, already catching on to where this was going. “That’s funny,” Azriel drawled, his voice calm but laced with mock seriousness. “Because if I recall, didn’t you trip over your own feet during the last training session? Ended up face-first in the mud.”

Cassian shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. “That was one time.”

“One time?” you chimed in, feigning surprise. “Because I could have sworn I saw you do it twice. Wasn’t it twice, Az?”

Azriel nodded solemnly, playing along. “Definitely twice.”

Cassian crossed his arms, his lips twitching as if he were trying not to laugh. “I didn’t trip. The ground was uneven.”

You snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sure it was.”

At that, Rhysand chimed in from across the room, a lazy grin on his face as he leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the show. “I think I remember seeing that too. Wasn’t there a really big splash when he fell? Feyre, do you remember?”

Feyre bit her lip to keep from laughing, nodding in agreement. “There was definitely a splash.”

Cassian threw up his hands. “Alright, alright! I didn’t trip—okay, maybe I did, but it was a fluke. That doesn’t change the fact that I still wiped the floor with those Illyrians. Which is more than I can say for Az over there, hiding in the shadows as usual.”

Azriel just gave Cassian a slow, dangerous smile—the kind that always sent a chill down your spine, but you knew this one was purely playful. “Hiding in the shadows gets the job done,” he said smoothly. “I don’t need to throw myself face-first into the dirt to prove anything.”

You couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled up, leaning into Azriel’s side. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure Az never ends up face-down in the mud. Unlike someone.”

Cassian groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. “You two are insufferable.”

You and Azriel exchanged a glance, both of you biting back grins. That one word—insufferable—was the green light for both of you to push it just a little further. With Cassian, that was always the fun part.

“Insufferable?” you repeated, feigning offense as you placed a hand over your heart. “Cass, I’m hurt. We’re just pointing out some... facts.”

Azriel leaned in closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “He’s really making this too easy.”

You stifled a giggle, leaning into the warmth of his body. “I know. It’s like he wants us to mess with him.”

Cassian narrowed his eyes, sensing the conspiracy between you two. “What are you whispering about? Don’t think I can’t hear you.”

Azriel shrugged, completely unfazed. “Just discussing how it’s a miracle you can still call yourself a General Commander, considering how often you manage to embarrass yourself in front of all the Illyrians.”

Cassian let out an exaggerated huff, standing up from the couch and dramatically stretching his wings. “You know what? I don’t have to sit here and take this abuse. I’m leaving.” He pointed at you and Azriel, trying to hold onto his glare but failing miserably as the corners of his mouth twitched. “You two are worse together than a pair of drunk faelings. I’m going to find someone who appreciates me.”

You leaned back into Azriel’s chest, wrapping your arms around your knees as you grinned up at Cassian. “Good luck with that.”

Cassian was halfway to the door when Mor chimed in from across the room, her voice sweet and innocent. “Cassian, don’t forget to watch your step. We wouldn’t want you to trip again.”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore—you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as Cassian turned, a deeply betrayed look on his face. "YOU TOO, Mor?!”

She just winked at him, clearly loving every second of it.

Cassian shook his head, dramatically sighing as he looked between you and Azriel. “I hope you two are proud of yourselves,” he said, backing toward the door. “You’re absolute menaces.”

Azriel didn’t even bother hiding his smile as he squeezed your shoulder, his voice laced with dry amusement. “We are.”

Cassian groaned again, turning to leave, but before he could exit, Azriel called out in a mock-serious tone, “Careful on those steps outside, Cassian. Wouldn’t want you to take another tumble.”

The entire room erupted in laughter, and Cassian’s voice came faintly from the hallway as he shouted, “I hate you all!”

You turned to Azriel, unable to wipe the grin from your face. “We really are insufferable.”

Azriel’s gaze softened, his smile tugging at his lips as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Maybe. But only with you.”

You sighed happily, snuggling deeper into his side. “Lucky for you, I love it.”

“Lucky for me,” Azriel murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. “I love it too.”

And so the teasing, the laughter, and the warmth of the afternoon continued, the bond between you and Azriel only deepening as you basked in the shared joy of simply being together—with the added bonus of getting to torment Cassian along the way.

[lunar-solarsystem]

The Refusal and An Awakening - Lose Clarity AU

(i was gonna make this a storyline but slsbsigwisbskshksb- its just a lore dump now :/ kinda sad since cool title ^ from my brain but whatever sbksbdksns)

(but hey so remember when Moon(Nexus) put a cure into Ruin’s head? well uhhhh, here’s a little story for you guys about one major point in my AU-)

When Ruin waited for Moon(Nexus) to find him and Sun, Nexus caught him and injected the cure into Ruin’s systems. The cure rushed in his systems and Ruin collapsed, seemingly turning off for a few minutes before rebooting. However that’s not entirely the case in this AU.

I may or may not hace established this in my first post on this AU, however the virus was submerged in Ruin’s systems for years while he was in his home dimension and only started working when he left his dimension; reasons being the Creator. The Creator was the controller of those affected by the hivemind code he made in the home dimension, Ruin being unaffected due to the Creator (being a dumbass for once and not checking his sources-) i mean due to the Creator not noticing he had somehow skipped over Ruin’s code.

Back to my point - when Ruin was injected with the ‘cure’, his systems refused it. It refused the cure, his code copying itself instead. This copied code semi-mixed with the cure in his systems in a way and a small piece of a bigger puzzle was created..

Puzzle!!! the little one who Ruin is now the guardian of!!

(more detailed design elements below, ignore me not having an actual eye design yet-)

i apologize for this post being so long as well 🥲 anyway i should probably go to bed now alsbeibsksbsksnsk

@ryomaandgundhamkin you can now do little guy drawings if you wanna bdksbzksbksbsksns

Bonus:

Puzzle in one of those little baby dresses :3

(yes they have a tail, yes im keeping that component, yes they only have 1 side of rays and one looks like puzzle pieces put together)

anyway ima go crash and pass out now, its almost 4 am, honk shoo time

[front-facing-pokemon]

[ducktracy]

reminder that if you're not watching Crayon Shin-chan then you are living a hollow and empty life. this is not edited. this ripped straight from the movie (Movie 8: Jungle That Invites the Storm, highly recommend for fellow Masaaki Yuasa lovers)

if you need further convincing: these monkeys run an animation sweatshop

[queernarchy]

watching episode 3 season 4 of superman and lois feels like watching season 7 of game of thrones aka recognizing huge cracks in storytelling as the first harbinger of absolute doom for the show but that most people cannot see and are therefore still psyched about, leaving those who CAN see it cassandras as they try to explain a narrative decline that nobody believes

[hybbat]

I do think a good chunk of the 'cringey atheist' stereotype did come from the fact that, especially americans, regardless of their actual religious status are just casually christian and refer to things through a religious filter and that isn't seen for how overwhelming/obnoxious/frustrating it is. Its absense, such as when writing a story and things like "oh god" or other casual references are remove or replaced, is seen as notable the same way people find the cast being all women or queer being 'abnormal'.

And I think more people, especially here on tumblr, should take a moment from ragging on some kid being "cringey" saying god doesn't exist or making atheist jump around like dancing monkeys to establish they're one of the good respectful ones before they ever even begin to talk about their own thoughts, and examine why so much content just inserts god into a conversation that had nothing to do with religion like it's the expected norm, the same way they examine the invasiveness of casual heteronormativity.

[buttercup-barf]

Under the cut are mostly self-insert doodles of decreasing quality. Again, not much directly tied to Team Fortress 2. Might as well toss these out while I have no access to my puter. Much yapping under the cut and in the tags incoming.

Another self-insert, this time less of a "here's me as a tenth class" and more of a "here's my game experiences translated into the class I would take the place of". The Cleaner. Although I guess they could still be wearing either suit. It doesn't matter that much.

That one Convict's Case taunt with Backup would be extremely funny, because the man would be on the verge of a breakdown (he does not want to go to jail so bad you have no idea). The second image- I owe no explanation. You know what I am. You see the pattern with my favourites.

The duality of the man. Resting face versus "just heard you express interest in religion/Russian folklore" face. He's not that hard to make friends with, when you pull him away from all the explosions.

Some doodles of trying to figure his face out. Unfortunately, the more I stare at him, the more I worry that he looks like A Certain Guy With The Last Name "Kazarin", and the fear of never being original in my life caught up to me.

Don't look at me, don't perceive me, I refuse to explain any of my actions to you.

[ta-bajna-cerna-okybaca]

Now that I finally got to play TWST diasomnia chapter 1 myself, I'm gonna need everyone who said Malleus was a baby throwing a tantrum for no reason to pay me 2000 dollars each

[archorcist]

most of my verses don't factor in adam's death (with the exception of his sinner verse where he returns as a demon) but if and when they do, his death was at the hands of lucifer!

[dream-sans-mogai]

Anyway, because I'm considered a bigger creator within the mogai community and I have a responsibility to address things given my bigger audience-

Please remember that Tumblr, especially LGBT Tumblr concerning discourse and intracommunity issues, is a hyper niche, reactive, violent, sensitive community with next to zero basis in reality at large and you should not take any of its opinions as absolute fact. Especially the mogai community's opinions.

A lot of people on mogai Tumblr talk big game with very clearly fake the-whole-bus-clapped stories about the real world concerning acceptance towards mspec monos, Neopronouns and Xenogenders and it's my job as an adult and guiding voice to remind people these experiences may happen but rarely do and you absolutely should not just tell random people you use purr/purrs pronouns or your a bi gaybian or you identify as Chronosian or other things like that because it's really fucking dangerous even in hyper progressive places like new york, cali and Detroit. It can be deadly in many many small towns, including ones in progressive states. Especially dangerous in non accepting states.

I don't say this to burst your bubble or ruin your hopeful world view but many stories of acceptance are fake, even if some are true, most of the community is underage and just cause your teacher may approve of your Soniccharic identity, doesn't mean they won't tell your transphobic parents. It's scary and dangerous out here for trans and gay people rn and I won't be one of the idiots who tell you to run and frolic with your Xenogender pins Infront of increasingly hostile transphobes. I want the younger gen z trans people to survive and I won't lie to you about the reality of the battle we all are staring down concerning project 2025.

Most of the people telling these stories live in progressive states and do not tell you about the failed times or exaggerate the acceptance they supposedly received. I'm telling you from the mouth of someone who grew up in a tiny town in South Ohio with less than 1,000 people, it's still just as dangerous as it was 10 years ago. I still get followed in my home town. I still get stares in my home town. My actual home town, a place I grew up in where people knew me as the gnc dyke for a good while in my last 2 years of school. Do not spread this shit around to everyone. Nex didn't think they would become a victim, Brianna didn't think she would be one of the unlucky ones, plenty of those we've lost did not think they would die in hate crimes. I almost died in two of the hate crimes I've experienced.

You need to be really fucking careful and although I love than Neopronouns and Xenogenders are becoming more accepted by the larger LGBT community, you need to be very very VERY careful about what you do, what you wear and who you tell what because word spreads fast in suburbia and hate spreads faster. You do not want to be wearing a pin the day some white cishet magat decides he's tired of the "pedophiles" and chooses you as the first victim because you were the first he saw. Don't hide who you are but Be. Fucking. Careful.

[skeleticals]

basically um. we all know how the federation basically strips their workers off their humanity, we've seen how strict they are with emotions. what if this also includes how they looked? as in, how they were human once but then either 1. the federation took them in as a worker and made them look, well.. how they all look now or 2. they started working for the federation and the fed made them look how they are now.

[ukulele-mixtape]

Maple Scraps: The Siren's Call Chapter uhh i don't remember actually omg

context: the obligatory beach episode. the gang go to the beach and tune (oc) gets knocked upside her head w a volleyball.

oh yeah and some more exposition or something idk i wanted to write a beach episode in April whatever

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Right over there should be fine, Tune.”

Tune nodded, setting down wooden storage containers full of equipment atop the mountain stack of other large boxes of supplies. Amy was right behind her, setting down the last few boxes of the medical supplies next to Tune’s, wiping her sweaty forehead and resting her body against the stack. 

A whole month. It’d been a whole month since Tune had arrived. She was very short of the rings she’d need to get a train to New Mobotropolis from Emeraldville. No amount of busking out in the open could help her plight, especially not in this economy and especially because her choice of music didn’t really vibe well with the people of Emeraldville, or its surrounding cities. She had understood that the grungy rock music she was accustomed to playing wasn’t vibing well with the general public, mainly due to its…not so favorable about life attitude surrounding her lyrics.

To top it all off, she refused to ever entertain the idea of asking for funds from anyone, given how expensive the ticket was and especially because she didn’t want anything being tracked back to her on the day she left. What if I just went to another city? Tune would ponder. The closest I’d get is Station Square again, and from there it’d be Westopolis, and that’s an even more expensive drive, plus there’s like a million watch dogs from GUN. She considered actually taking the plunge to make enough money to book it out of the country, but remembered she didn’t have a passport, and it would cost a good sum just to get one. She wondered how she survived this long without any semblance of proper identification.

Tune was getting increasingly antsy. The voices she’d stolen swarmed around her vocal chords madly, like if they were begging to be released. And soon enough, as the weeks went by, she was seeing more and more wanted posters of her likeness, or what anyone was able to garner from the little they’d remember of her performances, littered across each wall of any town she’d occasionally get the chance to visit. They were all the same level of vague:

WANTED: VOICE STEALER  CODENAME: THE SIREN PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES UNIDENTIFIED MEDIUM RANGED VOCAL REGISTER USUALLY INVOLVED IN PERFORMANCES IN UNDERGROUND VENUES AUTHORITIES WARN TO PROTECT ANY AND ALL CAMERAS OR ELECTRONICS IN VICINITY ANY INFORMATION REGARDING APPEARANCE OR WHEREABOUTS SHOULD BE REPORTED TO AUTHORITIES IMMEDIATELY.

She didn’t know whether or not to be thankful that the police barely had anything on her, but Tune was still put off nonetheless, especially by her uncannily spot on nickname “The Siren”. She’d heard about folklore describing sirens, mythical creatures who lived in rocky islands and lured sailors to their deaths with their enchanting voices. And while she wasn’t outwardly killing anyone, she had no reason to, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she portrayed that title almost too well, and it ached in her heart immensely. She may not have been mythical, but she was a monster nonetheless. A thief to the freedoms of people she had no claim over.

Tune contemplated time and time again whether or not the whole ordeal was even worth it. That maybe, just maybe, she could spend the rest of her life here at the Restoration. The stability was keeping her sane, her mind and power in check. Alto’s frequency had completely escaped her, and hadn’t arisen for the whole time since she took Sonic’s voice. She was a bit more happier as days went on. She was eating more at Silver’s request (who soon got everyone else on board to ensure it), she was working harder for a cause that she couldn’t really understand, but kept her busy. It was all she needed for now. Just something quiet to keep her steady. But she knew deep down this was hollow. She couldn’t stay much longer, but couldn’t find a sustainable way to leave without drawing suspicion. 

And it didn’t help that, unbeknownst to her, Tune was getting quite attached to her newfound companions.

“Thanks for the help,” Amy sighed. “I know I must have caught you at a bad time. The supply depot just needed an extra pair of hands because someone called in sick for the day.”

“Nah, I’m not doing much these days.” Tune replied flatly, following suit and sliding her body down the neatly stacked wooden piles with a big stretch of her arms. “Besides, gotta make myself useful somehow. Put me to work whenever.”

Amy gave a slightly strained hum, quiet enough for Tune to not bat an eye at it, as she shuffled towards the raccoon girl’s side and tilted her head, allowing her quills to fall and hang off her face.

“We’ve been over this, Tune. This is a–” she began.

“Volunteer effort, I know.” Tune groaned out, her arm resting on her knee and hand going for a casual grab at her cheek. She didn’t look at Amy, only choosing to look forward as she watched the people around her, scattered across, still continuing their business checking off tasks with their clipboards and riding forklifts and pushing hand trucks. “You don’t have to keep reminding me. I’m doing the job y’all want me to do willingly, isn’t that good?”

Amy pouted her lips, placing the tips of her fingers on the surface of the stacks of boxes behind her. “But do you even want this?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want right now.” Tune said matter-of-factly. “What matters is that I can help so I can repay my debts I've already taken on.”

“I thought we told you we aren’t asking for anything.” Amy let out another sigh. “If you don’t want to help, it’s fine.”

“Rosy–” Amy shook her head in defiance, walking right up to Tune, taking her clawed hands and pulling her up to force her to stand. Tune stumbled a bit, but managed to find her footing.

“Tune, it’s not about just working all day, everyday.” Amy softly lectured. “We want you to do this because we want you to want it. It should make you feel fulfilled, like if you’re accomplishing something good.”

Amy’s brow creased. “If this makes you satisfied, if it makes you happy, we’re glad to have you here.” She pleaded. “But, if you’re not happy, if there’s something wrong...”

“There’s nothing wrong, Rosy. I promise I’m fine. Believe it or not I’m happy to be here, honest.” Tune would steal a hand away to place it atop Amy’s shoulder in an attempt at reassurance, squeezing it a bit, a small smile straining on her face that anyone could tell didn’t match her eyes. Amy still looked unconvinced, her pout still lingering, her eyes still scanning everything Tune had to offer.

“Then, if there’s nothing wrong, I want you to do something for me.” Amy said, holding on to Tune’s hand on her shoulder. 

“Yeah, Jewel Bug’s office needs re-organizing, I know.” Tune said openly.

Amy shook her head, a little giggle escaping her lips at Tune’s nickname for Jewel. “No, none of that today, silly. In fact, it’s actually about that thing I’ve been mentioning.”

Tune frowned, turning her head away to not catch Amy’s overwhelming gaze.

“You mean about the beach?” She muttered out, her bushy tail wrapping around her waist. Amy nodded, her tail wagging in response.

“Yeah!” she giddily exclaimed, her grip on Tune’s hand tightening ever so slightly. “I think it’d be a nice way for us to get some air and spend time with each other. Y’know, to get away from the stuffiness that can sometimes creep up from HQ.”

…It did sound quite enticing. She’d never admit it, but Tune was quite homesick. Having sand between her toes and the smell of seawater flooding her nose again as she gazed upon a vast ocean of beauty sounded wonderful after who knows how long she’d been away. But even still, Tune shook her head.

“...Pass.” she said instinctively.

“Whaaat?” Another pout from Amy, a whine sounding off from her mouth. “Oh come on, Tune. The beaches around here are absolutely beautiful. The one near Green Hill especially this time of year.”

“I just don’t think I’m ready for the whole ‘family gathering’ thing right now.” Tune shifted her weight on one leg, kicking the other behind her.

“We’re not inviting the whole Restoration here, sweetheart.” Amy joked playfully. “Just a little get together with some friends, maybe a nice barbecue. You get in the water, maybe build a sandcastle or even just chill out by the coast.”                                                                                                                      

“Rosy…” Tune whined.

“And,” Amy’s voice turned mischievous. “You can watch Sonic, Silver, Tangle and Whisper absolutely obliterate each other in volleyball.”

“Those two against Tangle and Whisper? I feel like their marriage would end on the spot with how competitive they are.”

“Hey, if any of them were married I’d be the first to know, for your information.”

Without realizing it, Tune snorted, a thin sheepish smile spreading across her face, only serving to encourage Amy, the pink hedgehog shaking her hips in anticipation. Before the girls could get another word out, suddenly, something from above fell down and landed just next to them. Red and white sneakers, a blue exterior and piercing green irises attached to a very, very cocky aura was all that was needed to announce the surprise guest on scene.

“Oh, Sonic!” Amy released her grip on Tune to clasp her hands together, warm energy radiating from her face. “We were just talking about you, if you’d believe.”

Sonic scratched under his nose confidently with a hand on his hips, his foot tapping away at nothing. His mouth opened as he quickly signed off on something with enthusiasm, but realized what he was doing and rolled his eyes, ready to pull out his phone.

“She wants to have a barbecue.” Tune didn’t realize what she had done before Sonic’s eyes widened in shock. Still unsure, she spoke. “...What?”

“Hey, you never told us you knew sign language, Tune.” Amy chirped in.

Tune’s entire body went beet red, her tail clenching and prickling up from the embarrassment. “I-I don’t!! I just…I-I picked up on a few things, that’s all!”

“He rarely ever signs at us, though?” Amy pressed on, despite the raccoon girl's protest.  “Did you…look into this recently or something?”

“Amy, are we doing this beach thing or not?!” Sonic snickered mutedly, rewarding himself with a glare in his direction by his victim. “C-cut it out! I didn’t learn for your sake, you jerk. I’ve been known. You ain’t special.”

Sonic crossed his arms and leaned in a bit while nodding her head in false agreement, mouthing a teasing “Oh I’m sure.”

“Sorry, I don’t speak ‘shithead’.” Tune retorted unamused, causing Sonic to blow a raspberry in her direction.

“Alright you two, that’s enough.” Amy called out, her hands raised at the both of them. “Sonic, are you interested?” The speedster nodded, kicking off and wrapping an arm around Tune’s neck casually, Tune jolting at his touch trying to get him off by flicking his face, Sonic’s face contorting into what ended up being a silent sneeze. Amy rolled her eyes.

“Then, it’s settled!” she cheered, clapping her hands together. “Let’s go to the beach!”

–

“I look to a starry sky, Knowing on the Other Side of Night The coming light is beaming bright as never before.”

Of course this would be Tangle’s choice in the playlist. The car ride over to the beach was quite energetic. It wasn’t a long drive by any means, about fifteen minutes at most. But in that time, jams would be blasted through the speakers of Amy’s sports car unapologetically loud, Tangle and Amy snapping their fingers and pumping their fists in the air to the beat of the mood thumping rhythm, Whisper politely tapping her palms against her knees, quietly humming along. Tune sat in the front passenger seat gazing out the window, unable to control the way her foot lightly tapped to the infectious energy pouring through, her head bopping rhythmically.

“Every fear I had has gone away, Promises of joy are here to stay,” Tangle belted out with her whole chest from her side of the rear seat next to Whisper. “Another day when we can do this over again, All over again!”

She gave an energetic fist pump in the air, cheering a loud “Wooh!” to the skies above and anyone else lucky enough to witness. Amy giggled as she drove off, turning the wheel slightly as the road curved, revealing more and more of the ocean beyond.

“This is so exciting!” Amy exclaimed. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to this area with you guys. We really need to do this more often.”

“Sure thing, Ames!” said Tangle gleefully. “We don’t get a lot of time together outside fighting off Eggman’s goons, it’s good that we’re hanging out again. Helps that we’ve got a new musically inclined member to the group this time around.” With that, Tangle used her tail to stretch out towards Tune’s head, ruffling her hair playfully. Tune made a surprised, sharp noise from her mouth, like she was coughing up something, her hands instinctively going to swipe away at Tangle’s wagging tail.

“Hey, knock it off!” Tune whined irritably, the girls giggling in response.

“Say, I have an idea: why don’t you pick out the next track, Tune?” Tangle suggested, pulling out her phone and using her tail once more to plop it safely onto her lap.

“That’s a great idea, Tangle!” said Amy. “Anything you want, let’s hear what you’ve got.”

“I’m cool with anything really, why don’t you do it, Top Gun?” Tune bashfully muttered, already hating the attention, turning her head and trying to hand the phone to the lone wolf quietly sitting in the back. Whisper shook her head and held up her hand in denial, beckoning her to continue.

“Come on, what’s the musical genius’ favorite jam?” Tangle excitedly bounced in place, poking at the edges of Tune’s seat.

“I’m just a hobbyist, not some prodigy. And I like everything I can listen to, even the crappy stuff.” Tune corrected nonchalantly. She could see Tangle’s exceedingly disappointed face through the rear-view mirror, an over exaggerated cartoon-like glisten in her eyes. Tune sighed in defeat, tapping away at the phone presented to her. “But I mean, I guess I can go by the vibe today. Let’s see here…” 

Tune scrolled until she found the song she was looking for, a high energy, funky, feel good anthem, presented with a picture of a model spaceship with a strikingly plain orange background. She tapped the play button, and the music began in earnest. 

“You say that bolder doesn't always mean better But sometimes you gotta think outside of the box You limit every little step that you're taking And always take a second glance at the clock”

The three smiled excitedly, the road trip getting just a bit more energetic. Amy was careful to eye the road, but given no other people trying to tail behind or around her, she gave into the groove a bit more than she would normally, rocking her shoulders to the beat and absolutely beaming, her foot going a bit stronger on the gas. Tangle rose her arms out with reckless abandon, yelping out quick cheers into the wind. Whisper rocked her head back and forth, reaching her hand out to tap it against the outer part of the car door lightly.

“Don't you wanna look a little bit further, To see what's there for you to find? There is more for you than what's on your mind!”

A woosh from the distance caught everybody by surprise, Sonic and Silver greeting the four from right next to each other, Silver flying with a large backpack strapped to his back, giving an excited wave of his hand, and Sonic giving a playful wink and a flick of his two fingers in salute as he ran across the road on…foot?!

“Dude, did you run all the way here?!” Tune exclaimed wide eyed, peeling off her sunglasses in a frenzy. Surely, he couldn’t be this fast. There was no way.

“This is pretty on brand of him, actually.” Amy said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Tune whipped her head back towards her, and then back at the hedgehog duo beside them.

“That can’t be normal…I mean, I knew he was fast but still.”

“Well, how else is he gonna get a race in?” Tangle challenged, eyeing Sonic directly mischievously, her hands gripping the window sheild’s base. “He knows Amy would wipe the floor with him if he was driving his silly little patty wagon, so he needs a handicap.”

“Tangle, don’t encourage him. I’m driving on a public road with a speed limit attached.” Amy warned.

“I don’t see anybody nearby, do you?” Tangle shrugged playfully.

Sonic’s competitive spirit kicked into overdrive, signaling a countdown towards Amy. He held up his hand, fingers counting down from five, Silver giving the audible cue.

“Sonic, no!” Amy scolded, though Tune could see the way her foot tapped on that gas pedal, her knee pumping up and down and both hands going for the steering wheel, gripping tight. Oh no…

“You maybe wanna not do this today, Needlemouse?” Tune’s voice cracked, eliciting a giggle from Whisper.

“Four, three,” Silver counted as Sonic’s fingers lowered.

“Y’all better quit it right now!” Tune was getting desperate, already tightening her seatbelt to the furthest it could go, hands gripping to her seat like her life depended on it.

“Two, one…”

“Step on it, Amy!” Tangle screamed out with a pointed finger forward.

“GO!” 

If the competition was to find out who could release the most blood curdling scream, Tune would win by a landslide, her voice comically echoing into the atmosphere. The adrenaline rush was nerve wracking as it was intoxicating, watching as Amy pressed hard on the gas and the girl's body keeling backwards from the sudden momentum. Sonic took off in a flash, Silver following right behind him, his legs barely visible from the overwhelming pace he was setting. Everyone could see the ocean just beyond the horizon, getting closer and closer with each passing second. 

“Amy, I swear to every deity in the sky if you don’t win this…!” Tune blurted out, hearing Tangle whooping from the back of her seat. “Seriously, what the hell is the end goal here?!”

Amy could only laugh with the confidence of a madwoman, allowing her car to skid across the road once they reached another curve. She would just barely graze past Sonic’s form, Silver slowing down a bit to take in as a makeshift referee. 

“First one to the beach’s parking lot wins, and I'll be watching!” Silver called out, causing Sonic to up the ante and move his legs so quick Tune could see them spiraling into what looked to be an infinity symbol from Amy’s side mirror. 

He took off quickly, the gust of wind so massive Amy’s sunhat almost went with it, Whisper just barely catching it from behind her seat, keeping it to herself as the car sped off right behind him. Eventually, the gang reached a small hill on the road, but as much as Tune was silently begging her not to with a pleading eye and a pathetic whimper, Amy took one look at Sonic, who turned his head to face Amy and pulled his lower eyelid down, tongue sticking out teasingly, and it was game over from there on. 

Amy hit the pedal even harder, the speed limit of the universe seemingly having been breached, the speedometer encased in the glass panel on the driver’s seat going so far down there was a chance it’d break off its hinges. The car reached the hill and reached into the air, everyone on board screaming joyfully, Tune for dear life. All the while, the music Tune had been instructed to play just moments earlier was still blasting from Amy’s speakers, the chorus conveniently kicking in.

“Everything you wish for is just another dream away, So just pluck up the courage! Can't you feel your heart it is beating underneath your skin, For you to begin?”

The car bounced back onto the ground hard, the girl’s bodies following the rhythm of its flow, Amy not letting up in the slightest, just barely managing to snake by Sonic and find herself not too far from the parking lot. She hit the breaks quickly and swerved, the car making a screeching noise as it skidded against the pavement. Sonic was right on top, skidding his shoes down the floor, sparks and gravel harshly breaking from the force. Tangle was cheering uncontrollably, Amy gasping for air with a sweaty brow, Whisper’s tail wagging with vigor…and Tune melting into putty in her seat.

“That was awesome!! Let’s do it again!” Tangle gestured to Silver wildly, ripping off her seatbelt and basically springing out from the car, Whisper choosing to take the normal way out and open the door. Amy followed suit, grabbing her hat back from Whisper’s careful hands when she and her met, and Tune just kind of stood in place in her seat with the belt still attached to her body, her eyes still trying to adjust to her new environment.

“Who won, who won?” Sonic signed off energetically at Silver, causing his partner to laugh heartily.

“I dunno, it came preeetty close, darling.” Silver teased, adjusting his bag and floating downward, his feet lightly tapping against the pavement.

“Oh, it was obviously Amy.” Tangle refuted with a tail wrapping around Amy and pulling her forward, causing Amy to giggle. “She wiped the floor with you in that powerhouse!”

“Girl, it better have been Rosy.” Tune exasperatedly called out, finally managing to exit her seat and wobbling to the group. “I almost lost my life today.”

Sonic signed off yet again, slower so Tune could read properly.

“We can always go again to make absolutely sure.” He teased with a wink in her direction.

“Yeah, y’all do that while I go and do the thing we actually came here for.” Tune clapped back, fixing up her frizzy hair. Everyone around her had a hearty group laugh, a small smile gracing Tune’s features as she hummed softly.

“Hey, yeah, there we go,” Silver beamed. “That’s the look we wanna see!”

A blush settled in, Tune adjusting her glasses with the tips of her two fingers, wrapping her tail around her waist.

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it, Floats.” she passively said, but her tone didn’t quite match the smile growing further, not bothering to give him the satisfaction of her getting to see his pleased expression. 

“Don’t tempt us, we might just have to try harder to keep it there.” Sonic signed off to her with another wink.

She huffed out a breath through her nose, gesturing with her head to Amy to open the trunk of her car. The group took a few items each from the trunk they had accumulated for the trip: a few beach chairs, umbrellas, some towels, a small backpack that Tune had snagged at a thrift shop with a portable speaker built inside (which itself contained some essentials like sunscreen, portable batteries and first aid equipment), a basket owned by Amy containing a carefully curated selection of snacks and other goodies for them to eat, a cooler filled with ice and beverages, another one for the barbecue ingredients, and of course, volleyball and sand castle equipment.

Tune took her backpack out, wrapping the bands around her shoulders before trying to go for a chair and one of the coolers, but Silver’s aura snaked its way to carefully take the cooler away from her hands. When she looked at him in confusion, he simply uttered “I’ll be taking that.” with a warm smile, before heading off to meet the others who were already making their way towards the sandy beach, the cooler floating close behind.

Tune watched as they walked as a group, staying just a bit further away, enamored by the community just beyond her. Tangle had her tail laced around Whisper’s shoulder, Amy giddily talking to Sonic as he and Silver held each other’s hands. All the while smiles were on each and every one of their faces, like if they were all just a big happy family. Another genuine smile, albeit unsure, formed across Tune’s face, this time a bit wider as she saw Sonic turn his head around, scooping up air in a gesture for her to hurry up.

This is okay. For now, I can try to enjoy this.

Tune kicked off phantom dirt from her sneakers, and trotted off to meet the rest of the gang, the familiar scent of seawater gracing her nostrils.

–

As Amy had promised, the beach right beside Green Hill was beautiful, almost wistfully so. It stretched a good long way, was surprisingly not crowded and most importantly, it was quiet. The water was a clear blue, reflecting the completely cloudless sky, and the sand while burning hot was still cleaned and free of any man made debris. A few beach chairs and umbrellas surrounded the area, while some people had blankets on the ground already soaking in the summer sun. The wind blew lightly against the group's skins, the salty water perfectly settling in on the comfortably warm atmosphere.

The gang each took a respective task once they found a comfortable space to lay their things. Towels were placed on the warm sand, beach chairs were unpacked and unfolded and umbrellas were neatly perched atop the chairs. The cooler was opened revealing an assortment of sodas, juices and water bottles for them to enjoy, courtesy of Amy and Whisper. Amy had set aside her basket full of snacks and sandwiches to enjoy, as well as things to cook for the barbecue they had sat around to use. Tangle and Sonic wasted no time searching for the nearest spot to set up a volleyball game, while Whisper and Silver finished gathering up the paper plates Amy kept in her basket. Tune set her bag down, fiddling with the speakers and grabbing at her phone kept snug in one of the side pockets.

“Y’all got any requests?” she’d ask the group setting up beside her, watching from a distance as Tangle and Sonic ran around the open sand setting up their makeshift court.

“You’re the musician here, surely you should have some sort of playlist for an occasion like this.” teased Silver, adding the final adjustments to one of the last beach umbrellas. Tune boredly stuck her tongue out in a playful response, pulling up a premade playlist titled “SUMMER VIBEZ” from a list of already crafted tracklists she’d made in her spare time.

“Guess I’m doing everythin’ here, huh?” She rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I just so happen to do this for fun, but I don’t guarantee you’d like any of the stuff I listen to.”

“So as long as we can have fun, that’s all that really matters.” Amy brightly said.

Tune reciprocated the look the pink hedgehog gave in kind, pressing play on her screen and allowing the music to float into the air.

“The game has begun, gals and pals!” Tangle called out with a wave of her hand, using her tail to spring up into the air to gain more attention from her friends. Amy giggled watching as Whisper and Silver ran up to meet the others, Whisper’s tail wagging as she greeted Tangle with a hug and Sonic and Silver giving each other the most boyish of high fives Tune had ever seen, it was almost like they weren’t dating with how goofily friendly they’d behave in comparison to the girls. Amy followed suit, glancing up at Tune who had situated herself atop a beach chair underneath an umbrella. 

“You’re not tagging along?” Amy asked. Tune shook her head. 

“Naw, I’ll probably just watch from here.” She said, waving her hand up and down.  “It’s comfy. Got a nice view. Besides, I get tired easily. Those guys look like they’d go on forever if you let ‘em.”

Amy hummed, smiling once more at the racoon girl with a nod. “Well, if you ever wanna get in on this, you let us know.”

“Bet.”

Tune watched as Amy walked away to meet with her friends, her preppy sundress bouncing against her figure as she did, holding onto her sunhat and sandals clapping against her feet with each step. She saw as Amy stood in the middle, holding up her hands and shouted some things Tune couldn’t quite make out, as the game began and Tangle gave the first serve of the day. It was mesmerizing watching them play, Tangle and Whisper working together in complete sync as they tackled the ball. 

Even with Sonic’s inability to speak, Silver and him still were managing just fine, at some point Silver would hoist Sonic’s whole body up with his interlaced hands, allowing him to catch and spike the ball to the other side with a kick of his foot, Tangle easily thwacking it back with a swipe of her tail. Silver would catch it, bouncing it back to Whisper’s side, a bit too far for her, forcing her to have to body the floor to pass it to Tangle, who managed to get a good spike before Sonic was able to properly react and grab the point.

They went on like that for a good while, and Tune made a note that the way these people played felt as if they were training in the octagon for some big tournament, Amy enthusiastically reffing the whole way through. Tune grimaced, thanking her lucky stars that she made the right call to not be involved. She helped herself to a water in the nearby cooler, choosing the cheaper option from the selection and setting down a few rings in its place from her bag as payment. 

Tune sipped quietly as she just took in the vibes of her playlist, sitting a bit further into the beach chair. She’d eye back and forth between the ocean before her and the basket full of food Amy had left behind, deciding it’d be best for her to eat now before Silver got mad. She sifted through the basket for a bit before taking out what looked to be a strawberry cream filled cornet from a fancy bakery, placing a few more rings in its place and unwrapping it with care. She closed her eyes and with a small “Thanks for the food”, she went to take a bite…

And that’s when something hard landed square at her, smashing the cornet right into her face.

“Sonic!” Amy groaned out, rushing towards the raccoon who was still trying to find out why the world was spinning, the cream of her pastry plastered all over her face, bits of the breading already leaking into her chest fur. “This is why I always say don’t kick-spike!”

Sonic’s face was wide eyed, sheepishly scratching at the back of his neck as he followed the others alongside Amy.

“Gwuh…?” Tune’s dizzy voice rang out, watching as at least eight repeats of the same Rosy she knew grabbed napkins to wipe the cream off, spouting something she couldn’t quite comprehend. “Run that by me again, Rosy?”

“I asked if you were okay,” Amy worriedly said, glaring at Sonic with a thin lipped pout, who’d reached into the cooler in search of a bottle of water for Amy to use to clean Tune up a bit more. “These guys can be so reckless sometimes, I swear.”

“Sonic…?” Tune questioned, still not quite coherent. He came by to her side swiftly, inaudibly mouthed off something to Amy before she backed off and allowed Sonic to take the reins, carefully swiping off any of the pastry left on Tune’s lap, eyeing her face in concern. 

“Wow Sonic, are you trying to give her a concussion or something?” Tangle called out teasingly. 

“Yeah because it’s totally not like you didn’t use your tail a majority of that match.” Silver interjected. 

“I’m not the one who spiked the ball at the new girl’s face, though.” Tangle clapped back with a giggle. 

“It was a bit reckless on all our parts.” Whisper muttered out.

Tune, finally able to process the scene unfurling, gazed back at him, eyes traveling to the group worriedly staring down at her, and then back to her body still covered with crumbs and cream sticking to her swim top and a bit of her jean shorts. 

“Sorry about that, you good?” he mouthed to Tune, clearly embarrassed. It was a refreshing look in comparison to his usual shiteating demeanor, a face that she was completely unfamiliar with. Sonic was waiting with baited breath, like if he was expecting an angry, mouthful of a reaction. But what he got instead, what everyone witnessed alongside him, was something much more unexpected.

She snorted, her face contorted, her teeth were bared and then…

She laughed. 

She blurted out uncontrollably, hugging her stomach. She laughed hard for the first time in years, for the first time in front of anyone in so long. It was genuine, it was unfiltered. She had an ugly, goofy cackling laugh, tears were forming in her eyes from the pressure. She could barely keep herself together, having to hold on to Sonic’s shoulder unknowingly to keep steady, unable to stop herself from making a scene. She was so loud even the neighboring beach-goers around the group could hear. All the same, it was cathartic, it was exactly what the group had been working towards this whole time.

“I completely ate dirt, oh my gosh!” Tune was turning red, crumbs still falling on her face. She looked crazy, trying to wipe them off but falling into another laughing fit once they’d unceremoniously be scattered onto Sonic’s nearby shoes. She fell to her side on the chair as she cried out, “I guess this is payback for last time, ain’t it Needlemouse–pfft–hahaha!”

“I think she actually might have a concussion…” Whisper uttered for Tangle’s ears only, Tangle nodding in agreement nervously as Tune’s laughter became too much, eliciting giggles and chuckles from the rest of the gang. Tune’s cackling died out slowly, small giggles still bubbling from her in bursts, finally able to retain her composure. She caught Sonic’s now slightly flushed expression, patting his head in assurance, finally smiling toothily at him for the first time since they’d met, warm and inviting.

“Don’t worry, now we’re even.” She jested. “But you do owe me some food.”

Sonic’s composure relaxed with her words, nodding excitedly before getting up and snagging Amy’s basket, fiddling through it until he managed to find another one of the cornets. It wasn't strawberry, just a basic chocolate, but Tune took it nonetheless. She grabbed at her bag and pulled out her ring purse, grabbing a few more and placing it into the basket. Sonic stood there confused, Silver quick to call her out.

“Hey, Tune, are you trying to pay for it?” Silver groaned out, walking to the basket, Tune trying to quickly put the ring purse away knowing what was coming. Unfortunately for her, she was head to head with a man with psychic abilities and a speedster faster than sound, Silver going after her ring purse and Sonic grabbing the rings from the basket, plus the extra she left for the other cornet, giving them to Silver to put back in the purse despite the musicians’ protests.

“Oh please, it was just for this one cornet, it’s fine.” Tune refuted, her voice once again cracking, trying to reach for her purse.

“We did bring these for all of us to share, you know.” Amy scolded. “It’s not something we’re expecting you to pay for.”

“Guys? There’s some more in the drink cooler.” Tangle called out, reaching for a soda and pulling out the extra rings Tune had left.

“Tune!” Amy whined out with puffed out cheeks. Silver snagged the other rings with his power unamused, placing them gently into the purse before reaching for Tune’s bag and securing the purse inside.

“None of that today.” he simply stated, smiling. “Remember, you’re here to have fun!”

“But Floats–” Tune tried for it once more.

“Nope, today’s a day for you to be unapologetically selfish.”

“But I can’t just–” Before she could finish, Sonic was the first to act, stealing her cornet from her hands and taking a bite from the pointed tip, Tune’s eyes going wide, completely dumbfounded when he handed it back to her. He signed to her with a shrug, his shit eating grin back.

“Today’s a day for us to be selfish, so you snooze, you lose!”

“Don’t make me change my mind about that ‘getting even’ thing, blue.” Tune rolled her eyes and pulled apart the area where Sonic bit, handing over to him and reluctantly took a bite of the other side, talking with her mouth full as she watched as Sonic snickered mutedly. “Don’t you have a volleyball game to lose?”

“Eh, we could all use a break. Call it a draw for now.” Tangle’s voice rang, lifting the cooler with the barbecue ingredients inside. “Besides, I think it’s high time we got grilling right?”

–

After feasting off piles of snacks, barbecue chili dogs and tasty grilled veggie skewers, the match would continue, with Sonic and Silver just barely managing to scrape by with a two point lead at the very end. The rest of the day was spent building sandcastles and playing in the water after such a long, strenuous game. Tune sat by the coast, watching as Tangle, Whisper and Amy would splash salt water at each other, their giggles creating an intoxicatingly happy atmosphere.

Tune didn’t participate much and she made the deliberate choice to stay a bit farther away from the group, but she was outside, she was taking in the air. For her, for now, it was enough. Tune felt the water drift along her now bare feet, choosing to leave her sneakers by their spot on the beach. She was far enough that it wouldn’t soak her shorts, but close enough that she could feel the soothing, familiar way the waves would push and pull against the current. If she squinted hard enough, she could probably see her homeland from the horizon line, just out of reach. 

She watched as Amy would get her face dunked into the water by Tangle, Whisper in response pulling lightly at her tail and causing Tangle to dramatically (and purposefully) fall, the three giggling the whole time. Like they had no cares in the world. Tune felt herself being swept away in the moment, content, being fully immersed for the first time in a while. She’d be used to the feeling when it came to producing or engaging in music, but it always came at the expense of her associating it with her mission. Something that, despite the circumstances that lead her here, despite associating with one of her victims, she hadn’t really paid any mind to for a while, regardless of some hiccups here and there. But here with the Restoration, with them? It felt natural, real. It felt like she could really see herself staying with these people for a while.

And even despite their insistence that today could be a day where she could be a bit more selfish, Tune couldn’t help but feel the shame of her happiness, knowing her people wouldn’t be able to bask in that same feeling with her. 

“I can’t keep doing this…” she thought, hugging her knees as she continued to gaze out. “I told myself from the start I’d break every part of myself and everyone around me to free them. If I truly am the only one that made it out, all I’m doing is abandoning what I set out here to do by choosing to stay. Alto is getting stronger by the day, and I’m wasting time partying and helping these..strangers. I’m the only one who can protect these people from falling victim to Alto’s hold, but it’s like I’m giving up on saving them by wasting my time here…” Her clawed hands gripped at her knees tighter, the sand turning to wet mud and the water losing its purity in her eyes. It was no longer the breathtaking scenery from just moments prior, it was morphed into just their most basic components: a vast ocean of water, and the decomposed rocks that formed the sandy shores they stood on.

“...I’m failing them.” she unconsciously uttered, so low no one could possibly hear.

“Failing who?”

Tune’s eyes widened as she sharply rose and jerked her head to the side, Sonic and Silver hand in hand above her. They sat down on opposite sides of Tune, Sonic taking her left and Silver her right. She adjusted her glasses once more, trying to conceal her flushed cheeks as they inched closer to get themselves comfy. From the distance, she could see the girls who were once in the water going far beyond her peripheral vision, Tangle’s voice echoing something about an “ice cream stand near the boardwalk”.

“N-no one!” she tried to retort. “You don’t think it’s a little rude to eavesdrop on a person like that, Floats?”

Silver wasn’t buying her attempt to change the subject in the slightest, his neutral, unreadable expression being perfectly lit by the daylight, the sun ever so slowly descending down as the late afternoon began. Sonic was the first to initiate, placing a hand on Tune’s shoulder. She didn’t bother looking at any of them, choosing to stay glued to the water.

“You know, this is the second time we’ve caught you brooding like this.” Silver jested passively. “I just wish sometimes you’d tell us what’s on your mind.”

“I’m sorry…” Tune said instinctively. “I must be ruining the vibe right now. I can be better, I just need a minute.”

Sonic shook his head, tapping at her forearm in an attempt to get her to look as he signed for her.

“You’re not ruining anything, we just want to check in. Make sure you’re good.”

“I’m noticing how often y’all feel the need to do that.” She wanted it to be mean, but Tune couldn’t help the huff from her nose from coming out, endearment laced in her tone.

“It’s because we care about you. And we want to help whatever’s going on.” signed Sonic earnestly. “Can’t really do that if we don’t know what the problem is.” His words brought her back to the day she and Sonic met, not that he’d remember. The day he had her pinned down, the day she took his voice away, he’d said something similar. It only served to nag at her psyche ever since.

“But this isn’t fair to you guys. You aren’t some therapists that are getting paid to listen to my problems.” Another hand, Silver’s, was gently placed on to her other shoulder. The waves crashed softly against the current.

“Is it so hard to believe that we’re doing this because we just…want to?” Silver asked. “I really don’t mean any disrespect, but I just wonder why you feel the need to push people away so hard.” He hesitated with his last words, fiddling with his open palm tree shirt. “Do you…not like being here?”

Tune sunk further into herself, her heart aching at Silver’s words. The disappointment radiating from him was unbearable. “Of course not! I…I think the problem is I like it here too much.” She said openly, sighing. “You guys…I really like hanging out with you. But it doesn’t help either of us by getting attached.”

“What do you mean?” she finally gave in and looked at Silver’s pleading gaze. Without having to speak, he was basically begging her to spill anything she had to offer. It tore her from the inside. It ate into her stomach until there was nothing left.

“I just…” Tune hesitated, she felt the way her heart started to pound, trying to contemplate what she would say. What could she say? If she said anything of value, she’d be deemed their enemy on the spot. It made no sense for her to relay anything about herself. It was dumb, it was shallow, pointless, reckless…and yet she continued, as vaguely as she could. “I… have a history of being let down by people in the past. I hurt people, and I get hurt by others. It’s just part of my brand, I guess.”

“Is that what you’re afraid of? Hurting us?” Sonic signed curiously. 

“I just don’t want you guys to feel like I’m owed your time, that you need to try and make me feel better or something because of your Hero code or whatever. What happened to me in my past to make me this way shouldn’t concern you.”

“So you’d rather just…stay alone? When you obviously want to be here? What sense do you think that makes?”

“Sense enough that I don’t get hurt. And I don’t hurt you.” She said almost immediately, like she was sure the conversation would die there.

“But you are hurting.” Silver said with a somber confidence. “And it hurts us to know that you’re…not okay right now. When there’s a chance we can help.”

The pit grew once more in Tune’s stomach. “...You shouldn’t want to help me.”

“But we do. And we’re not going to stop caring just because you want us to.” Sonic nimbly signed. A moment passed, Tune soaking in his words. 

“Can I share something with you?” Silver titled his head to meet her gaze once more. She nodded wordlessly, prompting him to continue. “The future I come from was always a mess. Everyone was so angry and sad, devoid of any hope. It was hard for me to even get it together half of the time. But once I got here, I started noticing how beautiful the world truly was. And how I wanted nothing more than to protect it.”

“What are you getting at?” Tune pondered curiously. 

“I’m saying I have experience with this level of despair.” He continued, his grip on Tune’s shoulder tightening slightly as if to emphasize his point. “I won’t say I know the full extent of what you’re going through, but I do know what damage such a state of mind can land you in. Having people to guide you through it can help, but it’s only if you let yourself be open to the idea.”

“Can you let us in, Tune?” Sonic signed out to her gently with a warm expression. Tune could only look down, unsure of what to say, millions of emotions circling across her features.

Silver got in position to stand up suddenly, lifting his body upwards and then reaching down for Tune’s hand with a soft smile. He wiggled his fingers in anticipation. She stared him down, unsure of what to make of his gesture, lifting her hand slightly, but hesitant to take that next step. Reluctantly, she grazed her fingers against his own, and he excitedly hoisted her up, pulling her in for a hug. 

Tune froze against his sudden embrace with a tiny yelp, overloaded with sensation all at once. She wasn’t sure where she should put her hands, her arms glued down below as Silver placed his chin atop her shoulder, his arms lacing against her back. Tune would catch Sonic’s warm glow, using his arms to motion inwardly. Reluctantly, timidly and completely unprepared, Tune shakily wrapped her arms around Silver’s shoulders, her small stature making her look more like a consoled child. Her mind was going a million miles a minute as Silver tightened his grip on her, dragging soothing circles across her upper back.

“How long has it been since you’ve even gotten to do this with someone?” Silver gently asked, not expecting an answer. “The way you talk, the way you act…It’s like you’re depriving yourself of something so inherently common.”

“...It’s been a long time…” Tune could barely get the words out, her body slowly relaxing into his touch. “I don’t have many people in my life to do this with anymore.”

“Then we’ve got a lot of these to catch you up on.” She closed her eyes with a shuddering breath, pulling Silver in further and hid her face in his fur, like she was holding on for dear life.

“Sure…” was all she could mutter.

When they finally pulled away, there was a physical disappointment Tune felt, and despite the warm air, she felt cold, alone. She timidly peered back at Sonic watching the whole scene take place, his warm, genuine smile bounced off her unsure eyes. Without thinking, without breathing, without any sense at all, she would slowly walk up to Sonic, grasping at his arms a bit too roughly and pulling him in. He was taken a bit aback, but didn’t waste any time, wrapping his arms around Tune’s frame softly.

“I’m really sorry…” she mumbled humbly. “I can’t ever make up for the bad shit I’ve done in the past…but I want to try and be better so I can maybe move forward. I don’t know how to stop hurting. I don’t know how to start to heal. But I want to try.”

Pulling away for a moment to sign to her, Sonic smiled, his hands speaking for him. “You can start small. You can start by letting us in a little more. This is good for now, if that’s all you can muster.”

“And if that’s all I can do for a while?” Tune pleaded, for the first time wishing she could remember what his voice sounded like beyond what it was in her choir.

Sonic’s determined look spelled it all out.“Then that’s all you can do for a while. The hardest part is taking that first step.”

Tune hummed in response, pulling away fully from Sonic. She paused momentarily, then awkwardly extended her hands towards Sonic and Silver. The hedgehogs tenderly placed their hands atop hers, almost as if in vow to each other. 

“I can’t promise to spill my secrets right away. Frankly, I’m still of the mindset that y’all would hate me forever once I did. But I want to get better. It’ll be slow, but I’m willing to put in the work.” Tune rattled off, pausing for a moment before continuing, her flushed and pleading gaze extended to both of them. “...Can you guys be patient with me a little longer while I work my way towards that?” She didn’t even have to ask, Sonic and Silver nodded, pulling her in once more briefly.

“Thanks, guys…” Tune quietly uttered.

The waves crashed onwards, Tune could see the beauty in the way they morphed the sand, the slowly lowering sun now against the clear waters, glistening in its splendor. Tangle's voice echoed from behind, and when the trio pulled away, they could see the girls with multiple ice creams wrapped in plastic, Tangle taking it upon herself to be a menace and grabbing as many as her hands and tail could carry. When she inevitably dropped a few, Whisper was there to quickly grab them before they had a chance to reach the floor, Amy stealing a few from Tangle’s grasp exhaustively. Silver laughed at the sight, the girls finally meeting up with the trio and distributing colorful ice creams, multiple at a time.

“So, what’d we miss?” Amy’s knowing expression towards Tune said it all, their absence was planned.

“We could be asking you that same question,” Tune jested. “Flexy, did you buy the cart out of stock or something?”

“That is totally not relevant to anything ever.” Tangle said defensively with a pointed finger. “But enough talking, these things’ll melt if we don’t eat ‘em fast!”

“Oh I should get my ring purse to pay for my share–-” Tune began, ready to walk before abruptly stopping in her tracks. She paused for a moment, catching herself, and then took one of the three popsicles Tangle had given her, unwrapped the one with the goofy sponge character and gumball eyes, and bit down quickly with an audible hum of contentment, to the boy’s visible comfort, but much to the horror of Amy.

“You bite your ice cream?!” she exclaimed. 

“Is that not how you’re supposed to do it? Don’t you bite food?” She asked, mouth full. Amy looked completely flabbergasted at Tune’s popsicle, littered with her large sharp teeth marks as the raccoon girl chewed thoroughly.

“Not if it’s ice cold!” 

“Well then how do you eat before it melts?” Tune took another bite, completely nonchalant.

“Like a normal person!!” Amy all but screamed.

“Well then ‘normal person’, get cracking because I think I see some drippings on your dress already.”

“What?!” Amy exclaimed, seeing purple stains already littering her dress just as Tune described, her hand full of an already melting popsicle. “Oh, Gaia above, why do I even bother?”

Tune would approach Amy and pat her on the back, watching her frantically try to wipe any stains off to no avail. “Let’s get you some napkins, we can throw that in the wash when we get back home. I for one will get sick if I eat this much ice cream in one sitting, so I’m unfortunately gonna have to throw these in the cooler.” With that, she left Amy to her devices, finishing off her ice cream in just three bites. 

The gang once more got in some good chuckles. They walked off, Sonic and Silver taking a good glance and Tune from behind her, grasping at each other's hands unconsciously. They both looked at each other in surprise, warm smiles etched on their faces. Sonic would bump his shoulder against Silver’s, Silver mirroring his actions in kind.

“She’ll be okay.” Silver simply stated.

Sonic nodded in agreement, the ringing in his ear getting just a bit softer.

[chuluoyi]

✎ all of me

- gojo satoru x reader

you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff

note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.

"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"

But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.

Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.

"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"

Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.

Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."

You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"

Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.

But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.

"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."

"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"

"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."

"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"

And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―

"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."

Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.

And all these thoughts only made you angrier.

"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."

With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.

But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.

In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.

With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―

It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.

But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.

Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.

. . .

None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—

Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—

Of you no longer by his side.

“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”

You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.

“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.

“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.

“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.

He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.

Don't compare me to you.

With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”

“…really?”

“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."

“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”

A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.

You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"

He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.

"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."

"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.

You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.

That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.

. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.

"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"

He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.

Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—

His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.

He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.

"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.

And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.

"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.

Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.

They hurt you.

"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."

He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.

"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"

Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.

"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"

Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.

The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"

He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.

At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.

It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.

"It's Gojo Satoru!"

"Run! Ruuuun!"

What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—

"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."

Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.

And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.

Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.

It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—

At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.

But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—

"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.

He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.

You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.

"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.

"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"

The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.

"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.

"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"

Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.

You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?

A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.

Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.

He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.

And yet what happened?

If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.

Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.

Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—

"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.

His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.

"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."

Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.

"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."

You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."

Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.

Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"

Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"

"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"

And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."

The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.

When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.

The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.

Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.

You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.

So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.

You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.

In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"

And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.

"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.

Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."

But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.

"O-our—"

"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."

A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."

But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.

"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.

"No... I feel fine now."

"Then, can I hug you?"

Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.

You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.

"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"

“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”

It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.

"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."

He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."

"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.

"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."

You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.

“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”

So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.

Epilogue

"Papa, how do I become stronger?"

Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"

His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."

Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.

"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."

"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"

"What ways?"

"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"

"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"

"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"

"Everything...?"

[imaginedisish]

My Girl (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!! So sorry this took so long. Here is the secret relationship/breeding kink fic. I honestly really like this one...and I hope you guys do too. Was listening to "Juna" by Clairo while writing it, but went with "My Girl" for the title. ENJOY!

Summary: You and Logan have been in a secret relationship for months, but everything comes to a head when a new mutant visits the Institute, and won't leave you alone...Logan shows him, and you, who your man is.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Thigh riding, Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), breeding kink, praise kink, possessive!Logan, jealous!Logan, unspecified/implied!Age Gap, established relationship, creepy!OC who hits on reader and doesn't lay off, minor violence, afab!/fem!reader, fluff/feelings, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it?

Word Count: 5,313 this is why it took so long also, smut right under the cut...

You remember the first time he fucked you, vividly. 

It was late at night, after a mission. You almost died in his arms. And that was what broke that thing inside him, the burden of time that he carries, that deep-seated pain that made it justifiable to stay away from you. He had held back for so long—had done his all to resist falling for you. He was screwed from the beginning, and he knew that. But he had become so terrified at the thought of losing you that he hadn’t realized it could happen all the same if he stayed away—if he forced himself to remain a friend. 

So, when he fucked you that first time, that first night, he fucked you like it’d be the last—the only time. 

“Goddammit, so fucking perfect,” he mumbled, his lips bruising yours, shoving himself deep inside—as deep as you could take him. “Needed you this whole time. Can’t live without you.”

“Logan,” you whined, his hips snapping against yours. “D-don’t stop, please.” “Never gonna stop, pretty girl,” he promised. “Can’t go back. Can’t be anywhere but here.”

For months now, you’ve been together—but nobody knows. There’s no doubt about commitment—nothing casual about the relationship in the slightest. You start and end every day in Logan’s bed. You’ve talked about running off together, getting married, and settling down. For the first time in his long life, Logan sees a future where he’s happy—genuinely happy. 

The sun peaks through the curtains. You curl yourself into Logan’s chest. His arms are wrapped around your back, holding you tight against him, even in his sleep. You listen to his breathing as the fall breeze creeps through the open window. Everything is calm and quiet in the morning, when everyone is still tucked away in their bedrooms, sound asleep. 

Logan groans, tugging you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Go back to sleep.” His voice is heavy, laden with exhaustion. “Too early.” He kisses the spot just under your ear, and you moan involuntarily, feeling extra sensitive in the haze of the morning. He smiles softly against your neck, and kisses you again, his teeth grazing your skin. You moan louder this time, intertwining your legs with Logan’s. “Love those pretty little noises you make.”

“Feels good,” you murmur, his thigh slotting between your legs, pressing against your core. You can’t help but grind down on his thigh, rocking your hips back and forth. “Need you, Lo,” you beg. 

“You’re gonna ruin me,” Logan husks, his palms warm against your bare skin as he slips underneath your shirt—which is really his. 

He’s slow in the morning, pressing soft kisses on your bare shoulders, letting his touch linger longer than normal. He likes the peace of it all—waking up to each other, smelling you next to him, feeling the other side of his bed warm and full of you. When he fucks you, early like this, he takes his time. 

His fingertips trace the curves of your stomach, falling into your dips, gripping your flesh. Logan breathes you in, his lips softly melting into yours. “Still too early?” You mumble between soft, lazy kisses. 

“Never too early to want you,” Logan husks, dragging his thigh against your core again. “Always need you.” You can feel his erection through his boxers. “Gonna take care of my girl. Gonna make you—”

There’s a knock at the door. “Logan?” It’s Scott’s voice on the other side. He knocks again. “Logan, you in there?”

Logan tries to ignore him, his fingertips dragging down your sides, bumping into the hem of your panties as he trails wet, open-mouthed kisses down the hollow of your throat. You let out a breathy moan as Logan bites down on your pulse point. He smiles under your jaw at the soft sound, content that you can’t hold back. 

“Logan,” you whisper, running your hands up his arms, to his shoulders, your fingertips finding the nape of his neck. “He’s not gonna stop.”

Sure enough, Scott knocks again. “Logan, I know you’re in there,” he calls, banging on the door now. “Wake up. We have some tech guy on his way.” 

Logan groans into your neck. “Why do you need me, Summers?” Logan licks your collarbone teasingly, hiking your t-shirt farther up your body. 

“He’s…a mutant,” Scott explains. “He can speak with machines, computers, code—you name it, he can do it. He’s gonna fix some stuff around the mansion. Charles asked me to make sure you’re awake just in case…” Scott trails off.

Logan finishes Scott’s sentence. “In case everything goes to shit?” 

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Scott huffs, likely shaking his head on the other side of the door. “But yes. In case things don’t go as planned. I’m also looking for—"

But Logan cuts Scott off, saying your name for him. 

“Yeah, I can’t find her. Do you know where she might—”

“On a run,” Logan chimes in, and you suppress your laughter by pressing your face into his chest. “She’ll be back soon.” Logan’s arms wrap around your back, holding you against him. 

“Alright,” Scott says, shuffling, slowly stepping away from the door. “If you see her, let her know what’s going on, okay?”

“Trust me bub,” Logan husks, his fingers digging into your flesh, tickling you. “I’ll make sure she knows.” 

Scott mumbles something unintelligible as he walks down the hallway, his footsteps echoing as he disappears down the stairs. 

Logan’s lips are attached to your neck again, sucking playfully. “Where were we?” He teases, his nails grazing down your back. His palms settle on your ass, squeezing your flesh tightly in his hands. 

You moan, your chest flush with his. “Logan,” you whine. “We need to get up,” you insist, your hands pushing against Logan’s broad shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscular biceps. “Can’t stay in bed anymore.”

Logan grunts, his thigh still nudged between your legs, rocking into your core. You want him, and it’s tempting to let him take you right here, right now. But you can’t. And he knows it. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips and pulls you tightly into his chest. “Later,” he promises, his lips finding the shell of your ear. You smile at the thought. There was always a later with Logan.

You snuck out of Logan’s room, unnoticed, as always. It was still early—too early for the ruckus of a morning at the mansion to begin. You got ready for the day and slipped downstairs. You’re still shocked at just how oblivious the rest of the team is. Truly, no one knows about you and Logan. 

You’re in the kitchen now, nursing a cup of coffee, waiting for the day to start. Familiar, heavy footsteps approach, and you smile before you can even see his face. 

“Hi pretty girl,” Logan coos, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your front. You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his chest and the strength of his heartbeat. He presses a chaste kiss to the crown of your head and walks over to the coffee pot. 

Scott enters the kitchen as Logan takes his first sip of coffee—one second earlier and he would have seen Logan holding you. “The guy is here,” Scott announces from the doorway. He looks at you and smiles. “Oh! Hey! How was your run?” He asks cheerfully. 

You almost spit out your coffee, remembering what you were actually doing this morning. “Great!” You say, doing your all to hold back your laughter. “Surprisingly relaxing.” Logan snorts and plays it off like he’s sniffling.

Scott smiles, none the wiser, and nods, cocking his head towards the hallway just outside the kitchen. “Come meet the tech guy!” He backs out of the doorway and into the hallway. Logan settles his coffee cup—which reads #1 Professor—next to yours on the counter and gives your waist a quick squeeze as you hop out of the chair. You walk shoulder to shoulder into the foyer. All the signs of your relationship are there—out in the open—and yet, still, no one seems to catch them.

You step into the foyer, and there’s Scott and the Professor by the front door, chatting with a younger man—who’s about your age. The man’s eyes find yours, and he smiles softly. “Hi there!” He calls, waving. “I’m Mark!” He strides away from Scott and the Professor and towards you. “But you can call me Techno.” He smirks and winks, extending his hand out, waiting for you to take it.

Logan grabs his hand instead, gripping it tightly, catching Mark off guard. “Wolverine,” Logan growls. “And you can’t call me Logan,” he adds, gritting his teeth. “So, you turn on computers, bub?” 

Mark grimaces, wrenching his hand from Logan’s grasp. “A little more than that,” he asserts, closing his eyes and bawling his fists. You look up as the lights flicker, and televisions turn on and off. Your cell phone rings in your pocket, and you pull it out. The screen reads: Incoming Call from Mark.

Your lips part. “How did you…” You trail off. 

Mark shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “My powers essentially let me communicate with electricity and tech,” he explains. You can practically hear Logan seething beside you. 

“A technopath,” Charles offers as he rolls over to join the three of you with Scott in tow. 

“Exactly,” Mark says, nodding to Charles. “Makes it easy to put my number into pretty girls’ phones.” Mark winks at you, and you press your lips into a straight line in response. 

You shake your head. “I’m not inter—”

You’re cut off by the sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing. “These,” Logan pauses, lifting his claws to Mark. “Make it real easy to hurt creeps who put their numbers into girls’ phones without asking first, bub.” 

Mark rolls his eyes, and the corners of your lips twitch up. You try to force down your smile, try to slow the rhythm of your heart. You secretly liked when Logan got possessive over you. He was inherently protective, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on just a little. 

“Let’s stay on course,” Charles reprimands, guiding Mark to the hallway to the left with a wave of his hand. “Let me show you some of the machines I’d like you to work on.”

“It would be my pleasure, Professor Xavier,” Mark says harshly, his eyes locked on Logan as he backs away to follow Charles and Scott.

Logan lowers all but his center claw, giving Mark the middle finger as he turns around. “Don’t mind Logan,” Scott says as they disappear into a room, the door shutting behind them.

“Logan,” you whisper, now that everyone is gone. “Don’t worry,” you assure, bringing a hand to his shoulder. 

He turns to look at you. “He’s a fucking creep.”

“It’s going to be fine.”

 It is not going well, or fine.

Mark is something of a nuisance. He’s only been here for an hour, but he has already created multiple excuses to talk to you, to pull you away from whatever task is at hand. 

You’re in the middle of teaching an English class, discussing Mrs. Dalloway with a group of older students. “So, what are we to make of Clarissa and Sally’s relationship?” You ask the students, to no avail. 

This was your hardest class of the day—especially given the fact that you’re not even a decade older than most of the students. You had joined the X-Men in your early 20s, your powers having shown themselves a bit later than in most mutants, and only a few years have passed since then. Convincing the students who have been here their whole lives that you deserve to teach has been nothing short of a challenge. 

So, when Mark butts his head in on your class, annoyance burns through your body. You take a deep breath and swallow down your frustration. 

“Hey!” He chimes, his head poking through the open classroom door. “Mind if I take a look at your computer really quick?”

The class perks up, more focused on you than they were just seconds ago. You fake a smile, nodding and pushing yourself off the front of your desk so that he has space to access the computer. 

He slips behind the desk and smiles widely. “You didn’t have to move,” he remarks. “Would’ve been nice to have you close.”

You want to gag. You turn away from the students, whispering so they can’t hear. “Listen,” you chide, narrowing your eyes. “I am not interested, so could you please—”

“What are you doing in here, asshole?” Logan’s voice echoes against the walls of the classroom. For the first time all year, the class is paying incredibly close attention. “The Professor told you to check the computers in the lab down the hall.” Logan fully enters the room, striding over to Mark, his hands bawled into fists at his sides. “Beat it, bub.”

“Whatever,” Mark mutters, his head down as he exits the classroom. The bell rings, and the class stands, grabbing their things and filing out the door. 

You groan. “Please read the next twenty pages for tomorrow!” You shout over the hubbub and shuffling of students. “I know it’s a challenging novel, but I think you guys can…” The students are gone before you can finish your sentence. “Handle it.” 

Logan smiles sympathetically, closing the distance between you and him. His presence is comforting, warm, everything you’ve ever needed. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Sorry,” he apologizes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Didn’t mean to make your class harder than it is already.”

You take a deep breath, your annoyance fading away. “You helped,” you whisper. “Mark is the one who ruined things,” you insist. “He won’t leave me alone.”

Logan chuckles. “You don’t like him?” He teases. “Don’t like a guy your own age flirting with you?” He’s egging you on, trying to joke, but you can tell part of him is a bit serious. 

You shake your head. “Only like you.” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat and Logan grunts. 

He reluctantly pulls away, the palms of his hands dragging down your arms, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Gotta get to my class,” he husks, his fingers slipping, tugging longingly as he steps to the door. “Meet me after?” He asks, but he already knows the answer. You’ll be outside his classroom door before the bell rings, waiting for him.

You nod, and he smiles, his hands gripping the doorframe like some invisible magnet is pulling him away, and he’d give anything to spend another second with you. He slips down the hallway, and into his classroom. 

You spend the next thirty minutes or so grading papers, waiting for the period to end so that you can walk across the hall to Logan’s class. Another few minutes pass, and you start to collect your things, readying yourself to meet Logan. Your heart thumps in your chest at the thought, even after all the months you’ve spent together. 

You grab your bag and head to the door, closing it behind you and locking up. You cross the hall and stand outside Logan’s door. He’s teaching a younger group of kids—ten to eleven-year-olds. You would trade places with him in a heartbeat if you could. The younger students loved you. There was no question of respect, no doubt of your power. But Logan was given the class as a challenge—Charles wanted to test his patience. 

And, honestly, seeing him with the children did something to you. You loved watching the way he doted on them, carefully explaining material in a way they’d understand. He was an excellent teacher, and one day, you’re sure, he’d make an even better father. You find yourself falling into fantasy: Logan, late at night, a baby—your baby—on his chest. You can see it now—him changing a diaper, teaching the child to walk. Your heart squeezes in your chest, your eyes falling closed as you daydream about the future—your future together. 

You’re so distracted that you don’t hear Mark walk up to you—don’t feel his hand grab your shoulder.

You yelp and jump. “Oh my god,” you mumble, turning around and coming face to face with him. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his hand lingering for far too long on your shoulder. He finally peels away, his arms falling to his sides. He leans against the wall, trying to appear casual and cool. “What are you doing tonight?”

The bell rings before you can think of a polite way to shoo Mark away, and the students exit Logan’s classroom, happily shouting greetings in your direction. You stood outside Logan’s door every day, and the students were always excited to see you.

A few of them run up to hug you, complaining about Logan’s gruffness. When they hear Logan’s footsteps approaching the door, they bolt down the hallway, their laughter booming against the walls. 

Logan steps out into the hall, and he groans audibly when he sees Mark next to you. But Mark ignores Logan, his eyes trained on yours. “Got plans?” He asks again. 

You roll your eyes. “Dude, I’m not interested!” You groan, too irritated to pretend to be nice. Mark smirks and parts his lips, ready to persist like the creep he is.

Logan steps in front of you, his claws already out. “Listen, bub,” he growls, his claws just inches from Mark’s chest. “If you don’t fuck off and stop harassing my girl, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Mark scoffs. “My girl? What are you, her father? You can’t possibly be dating her.”

You can see the anger in Logan’s eyes, the honest rage. “Lo,” you soothe. “Don’t do it.” But you know it’s too late. His decision is already made.

Logan shoves Mark against the wall, his claws pressed against his throat. “I’m her fucking boyfriend, bub,” he grunts as Mark squirms helplessly under his hold. 

“Oh, her boyfriend?” He teases, despite the fear in his eyes. “Aren’t you too old to be a boyfriend?”

Logan shoves him harder into the wall, and Mark yelps pathetically, like a small dog. “More serious than that,” Logan asserts. “Guessing you wouldn’t know anything about that though, would you?” 

“Alright, break it up!” Scott’s voice echoes from down the hall. He runs over, Jean and the Professor by his side. Rogue and Gambit follow close behind. But Logan doesn’t budge, the tips of his claws almost digging hard enough to draw blood. 

You bring your hand to Logan’s shoulder. “He isn’t gonna hurt me,” you whisper to Logan. “I could handle him easily if he tried.” You slide your hand to the nape of his neck, trying to soothe him, to relax him. “Nothing’s going to happen, okay?” 

Logan retracts his claws and lets go of Mark, who stutters away from Logan and into the center of the hallway. “I’m getting the fuck out of here!” Mark shouts, but Logan doesn’t react. He simply intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“You okay?” He asks, his thumb brushing circles into the side of your hand. 

You arch a brow. “Are you okay?” You smile and lean into him. 

“So…” Scott trails off, interrupting. “You two are…”

“Together.” You finish his sentence, your eyes still on Logan’s. You can feel the tension in his shoulders stretch down to his hand. He’s rigid, still on edge. You know he needs to get out of here, needs to be alone with you. 

“How long has this been going on?” Scott asks, genuinely caught off guard. “Did anyone know about this?” 

You turn to the team to see heads shaking side to side—save for the Professor. “I did, of course,” Charles confesses. “But I felt it was best left a secret until the two lovebirds decided otherwise.”

Rogue shakes her head, the corners of her mouth twitching up. “I can’t believe you never told me!” 

“Told you what?” Jubilee calls from down the hall, approaching the group. She blows a bubble as she stands next to Rogue, her eyes trailing down to where your and Logan’s hands connect. Her eyes widen and her bubble bursts. “No way!” She cheers, jumping up and down. 

“Settle down,” Charles laughs, extending his hand down the hall to where Mark was just moments ago. “Scott, make sure our technopath friend makes it out the door alive.” Scott nods and heads down the hall. Charles turns to you and Logan. “As for the two of you,” he pauses, winking. “We’ll discuss more at a later point.”

You smile in understanding, and Logan squeezes your hand—another sign it’s time to go. He’s still worked up about Mark; he needs to get this out of his system, needs to relieve all the built-up tension. 

“Got something I need to take care of,” Logan says to the group, tugging you down the hallway.  

He strides through the mansion, practically yanking your arm out of your socket. “Logan,” you whisper, trying to catch his attention. You’ve never seen him like this—rage and jealousy like fire in his eyes, dripping from his pores. He leads you up the stairs and towards his bedroom, and it suddenly dawns on you what exactly he needs to take care of. 

Logan pushes the door open and slams it closed the second you’re inside. His hands are immediately on you, grabbing at the pillowy flesh of your ass, pinning you to the door. His lips find yours—hungry and rough, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching your face. He tastes you, his tongue seeking more of you as it swipes across your lower lip. You open your mouth, inviting him in, your tongue tangling with his.

Logan hoists you up without breaking the kiss, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel his erection straining inside his jeans, pressing against your heat. He grinds into you as one hand slips under your top and drags up your back, holding you tightly against him. 

“Need you,” he mumbles against your lips. “Always fucking need you.” He tears you away from the door and towards the bed. He throws you onto the mattress and climbs over you, slowly, like an animal stalking its prey. “Tell me you need me, pretty girl.”

“N-need you,” you stutter as he settles on top of you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. 

“I’m not too old for you?” Logan teases, one of his hands loosening its grasp on your arm and trailing down your body, settling on the hem of your shirt. “You don’t wanna be with anyone else?” He hikes up your top, pushing it above your breasts. 

You can feel the heat pooling between your legs. “No,” you whine, arching your back as his fingertips play with the bottom of your bra. “Only wanna be with you,” you breathe as Logan slowly, teasingly pulls your bra up. “Please,” you beg, spreading your legs wider. “Want you to fuck me.” 

Logan smirks, finally tugging your bra and top over your head and casting them to the floor. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” Logan soothes, palming your breasts with his free hand, rolling your nipples under his thumb. 

“Fuck,” you moan as he pinches a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

Logan hums, his fingertips trailing across the valley of your breasts, doing the same on the other side. Logan pinches harder, and you moan louder this time. “That’s it,” he coos, his lips finding your pulse point, sucking roughly. “Don’t be quiet, darlin’,” he demands. You whisper his name, your voice whiny and needy. “Show me how much you need me. Keep making those pretty little noises, baby.”

“Feels good,” you whimper as his hand traces down your stomach, to your hips, gathering the fabric of your skirt in his fist and yanking it up to your waist.

He chuckles darkly. “You wore this just for me?” He asks, his thumb hooking inside the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. “Wanted to make it easier for me to fuck you?”

“Fuck, yes, just for you,” you pant, watching as Logan lifts himself off you, tugging his t-shirt up and over his head. He dexterously unclasps his belt buckle and throws the leather to the floor. He balances on his forearm as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pushing them down his thighs along with his boxers. “I’m all yours, Lo,” you promise as he presses his forehead to yours.

Logan’s hand glides down your side, slipping between your legs and finding your folds. You moan as his fingertips prod at your entrance, spreading your slick. “Fuck, all this is for me?” He pinches your clit before swiping through your folds again. “You’re soaked already, princess.” His fingertips brush your clit, tracing achingly slow circles into the bud. 

You rock your hips against Logan’s touch, searching for more friction. “Logan, need you,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I’m yours.”

“All mine?” He whispers, his touch suddenly disappearing. You groan at the loss of contact. “Say it again, pretty girl,” he demands, guiding his cock to your folds. 

“All yours,” you answer, trying to move your hips lower to feel just an inch of him. “Please just—”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he slams into you, down to the hilt with one thrust. He throbs against your walls as he works you open, his hips still, his cock splitting you in two. “Fuck,” Logan grunts. “So fucking tight. Perfect little pussy. Wanna stay right here forever. Maybe I won’t even fuck you. Maybe I’ll just make you sit on my cock.”

But you need him to move, need him to take you. “Logan, f-fuck me,” you choke, trying to move your hips. His hand grips your waist, stopping you from sliding up his length. “Please, move,” you plead. 

“So impatient,” he chides, kissing you bruisingly, biting your lips. He finally pulls out and slams back in, bottoming out again. His hand slides down your waist and slips between your legs. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you the way I want?” 

His hand is just above your clit, inches away from where you need him most, waiting for your answer. You nod emphatically. “Yes,” you say with pleading eyes. “Anything. You can do anything just please—oh fuck!” Logan pinches your clit and starts his machinations, swirling around the bud. He pulls out and pumps back in, setting a ruthless pace. 

His hips snap against yours, taking all of you with reckless abandon. His lips swallow your moans, consuming you, drinking you in. Of all the times he’s fucked you, it’s never been quite like this. There’s a hunger in Logan’s eyes that you’ve never seen before, an undying need you’re not sure can be satisfied. Something feels different about this time—more intense, fervent, and feverish. 

Logan thrusts in and out of you, bottoming out with every pump, still stretching you out. His fingertips stroke your clit roughly, your walls already fluttering around him. He curses under his breath, his chest heaving against yours. 

“Look at you,” he groans, fucking into you. “So beautiful like this. Always so beautiful.” You can feel his cock twitching inside you. “Wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”

“I-I already am,” you stammer, his fingers drawing tight, rapid circles into your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. “Always gonna be yours.”

“Want more than that,” Logan grunts, his hips rocking, his pace quickening. He’s so deep inside you—hitting exactly where you need him most with every thrust. 

“Whatever you want,” you pant, your chest pressing flush to his. “It’s yours. I’m yours.”

“Yeah?” He growls at the shell of your ear. “You gonna let me fill you up? Gonna let me stuff you full of me?”

“Yes, please,” you cry out as he pumps in and out, shoving himself as deep inside as he can possibly fit. You feel so full, so complete. Nothing compares to having Logan this close, to having him be so connected to you. You’re already coming undone underneath him, falling apart. “Want you to stay inside.” And then the words fall from your lips without a second thought. But you mean it, and you want it more than anything…

“Wanna have your baby, Lo.”

Logan groans at your words, his cock throbbing with need. “Fuck, don’t tease me like that, sweetheart.” 

“N-not teasing,” you stammer. “I mean it.”

“Shit,” Logan growls, his skin slapping against yours, your words spurring him on. He’s letting himself go, letting himself plunge deep inside you, fast and hard. “Such a good girl,” he praises, his length dragging against your walls, pushing deeper still. “You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?”

“Yes!” You cry out, the fire burning in your belly spreading up to your spine, coursing through your veins. Your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tightly.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Logan coos, rutting into you, his hips stuttering. “Want you forever.”

You throw your head back as his fingers swirl around your clit. “You have me Lo, always gonna have me.” Your walls clench down around him, and the tension snaps. Electricity shoots up your spine as your orgasm crashes into you. It’s intense—more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. Pleasure washes over you in waves, heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.

Logan is right behind you, whispering a string of praises as he finishes inside you. “Did so fucking good for me. Always so perfect, beautiful.” His thrusts slow until he’s still inside you, but he doesn’t pull out. “Don’t wanna move, princess,” he husks, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“You don’t have to,” you say, your voice hoarse. Logan rolls you onto your side, hoisting your leg up and over his hip, keeping himself deep inside your cunt. You close your eyes, your heartbeat finally steadying, your chest still heaving in time with Logan’s. 

The silence is comfortable, calming. You listen to Logan’s breathing as he runs his hands up and down your back. “You okay?” He asks, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. 

You hum. “I’m perfect,” you mumble, burying your face into his chest. “Do you really…” You trail off, suddenly nervous to ask the only question on your mind, despite everything that just happened. 

“Yes,” Logan answers immediately. “I meant it. Wanna be a family. Wanna be with you forever.”

You melt into him, wrapping your arms around his back. You can feel his cock growing hard inside you as you move to get more comfortable. “I want that too, Lo,” you sigh. “More than anything.” You smile against him, thinking about your future, thinking about how all this started because some asshole wouldn’t leave you alone. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asks. You can hear the smirk in his voice. 

You look up at him. “You’re crazy, you know that?” You joke, your smile widening. “You could’ve hurt that guy.”

Logan’s smile widens too. “Just crazy about you,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. He flips you onto your back and hovers over you, his cock still deep inside you. “Should’ve kicked his ass.” You bite your lip, waiting for his next move. “You’re my girl,” he groans, sliding out of you slightly. 

“Yours,” you breathe as he thrusts back in. “All yours.”

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