#But I hope this response was able to answer all your questions friend! :D

[sass-squat]

Have any of the other Links seen Legend pull on his feathers? If so how did they react to seeing it for the first time? Also if they do know that he pulls when upset do they try getting his mind somewhere else like Warriors teasing him or the others allowing him to preen them?

Hello my friend! Excellent question! The answer is yes, everyone in the group has seen Legend pull at his feathers at LEAST once because it's kind of second nature to him now. Now the level of extremity they've seen of his plucking does vary between different Links however. For example, Time and Sky are the main ones who see him when he's REALLY bad to the point where he needs physical intervention because he's literally shaking and bleeding from it, whereas the younger members like Wind and Four usually only ever really see the "fidgeting" side of it.

You can basically compare his everyday feather fiddling as the equivalent of somebody biting their fingernails or repeatedly picking at a scab wound. It's usually not too bad, and it's a minor inconvenience at worst, but the severity of it can change depending on circumstances and can become a real problem if left alone.

As for how the others reacted to seeing his plucking for the first time, it actually wasn't that exciting or significant of an experience! The only one who was really concerned from the beginning was our resident bird lover Sky, mainly because he's had experience in seeing how that behavior can escalate into a real problem in both Loftwings and Hylians alike.

Now this is not to shame or underestimate the observational and emotional skills of the other Links by any means! In their defense, when they first saw Legend fiddling with his feathers it seemed to be a very casual, normal experience for him and they genuinely saw no harm in it. Again, it's like watching somebody absentmindedly biting their fingernails or picking at a scab. You don't usually put much thought into it.

However, once they witnessed his first really bad "episode" since joining the group, their opinions regarding the matter completely changed. Now, whenever the others start to notice him spiraling, they often act in many of the ways you listed! Whether they're teasing him or simply offering to spar with him, their ultimate goal is to distract him and keep his mind and hands busy. Any other efforts such as forcibly trying to make him rest or forcing him to talk about it usually just results in more yelling and fighting than actually helping, so they try to focus their efforts more on distraction rather than confrontation. This has resulted in many preening sessions that were...harsher than they needed to be and resulted in a lot more discomfort rather than actual helping, but the others are more than happy to make those sacrifices for their brother.

Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you again for all of your questions!!! I'm always more than happy to go into more detail if you have any further questions or theories! :D

[bluesidez]

hiii love 💗 may I request a nsfw and a sfw alphabet thingy for gymrat miguel. I just need more of that man 😫😫

[Gym Rat Miguel SFW + NSFW Alphabet]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant 🩻

pairing: GymRat!Miguel O’Hara x Chubby!Reader, PlusSize!Reader, fem!Reader

summary: Me answering questions and yapping about Gym Rat Miguel!

content warning: 18+ for the NSFW portion so MINORS DNI, most importantly THERE ARE SOME SPOILERS FOR THE ACTUAL STORY (nothing too crazy, but some of the questions are things that haven’t happened yet + they haven’t even been together a year yet in the current story so there’s still much to discuss), lots of fluff, possibly the incorrect use of a fidget spinner?? (it's cute I swear)

word count: 9.1k, halfway proofread (sigh...)

a/n: Hi hii!! 🩵 You don’t know how happy I was to receive this request!! Any chances to talk about my Miguels outside of their actual stories are golden. 🥺 I tried to keep the responses brief so about 2+ paragraphs per question but we all know how much I like to write and yap 😭 so there's bound to be some long paragraphs. I do hope you enjoy!!! (This also gave me a chance to flesh out his character even more, which I appreciate more than you know, so truly, thank you Anon!)

I just refer to GR!Miguel as Miguel here because…we all know who I’m talking about.

A = Affection How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a really giant heart so he’s extremely affectionate especially when it comes to his girlfriend. Usually, boys are taught to kind of control their emotions, but even with those teachings/societal rules hanging over his head, he was always a sweet and kind baby growing up. His abuela especially taught him to lead with kindness. 

ᰔ ᩚ He shows affection often through action. While he’s really familiar with all of the love languages, he’s quicker to do something for someone (acts of service) before he does anything else. His second most used love language has to be words of affirmation. Words and communication are a sensitive thing for him so communication is key even if he can be oblivious about it sometimes. 

B = Best friend What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is definitely the "dad friend," or really, the "parent friend" that’s always making sure you’re ok. He knows how to parallel park and owns at least two of the ugliest ties you’ve ever seen in your life (thank you, George). He’s also EXTREMELY huggable, even in his tall and lanky days, and gives really nice advice. If you’re struggling with something, he would lay everything out and help you problem-solve. Overall, he’s just very sweet. 

ᰔ ᩚ For Miguel, a friendship could start with you constantly talking to (bugging) him or being able to keep up with his nerdy hobbies. You want to hear him sort out quantum physics? He’s sold. On the other end, anyone who is nice to him and treats him like a human has a fair game of becoming his friend.

C = Cuddles Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

ᰔ ᩚ Does he? He craves it! He will literally stop what he’s doing to find you just to cuddle. It’s like a way to regain his energy if you're in his arms. At the same time, he’s very comfortable despite all that hard muscle. At home, he usually wears soft sweaters and joggers so he is indeed like a giant teddy bear. The older he gets, the more his body gains a nice balance between fat and muscle so it’s just really comfortable all around.

ᰔ ᩚ When he cuddles, he’ll usually shove his face in some plush part of you. He definitely loves laying on your chest which he lovingly calls his pillows or your stomach or your lap. He’s really clingy. If you’re out and about, he'll cuddle you from behind with his chin on your head or keep an arm wrapped around your hips. When you ask for a cuddle, he’ll gladly hold you on top of him and probably fall asleep. 

D = Domestic Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

ᰔ ᩚ He wouldn’t mind settling down, but it depends more on how you feel rather than him. He’s heard many stories from his mother, Abuela, and tías about how hard childbirth is so he’s very wary of that pain being inflicted on you. His mother has told him multiple times about how giant he was when he was born so he’s scared that whatever baby he could give you might also be huge. After he learned of Tyler, Conchata told him that she wanted to cuss Tyler out, but all she had was George in the delivery room so he suffered her wrath not once, but twice. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has fantasized about you with his babies, but to his shame, it was more about the process of giving you his kids rather than having them run around. He has to admit, he would love to see chunky babies with a mix of you guys’ best qualities. One family reunion with you taking care of your baby cousins might put him in a spiral. He’s sure that you’ll be a great mama and he’s confident that he’ll be the best father. If that doesn’t work out, he’s aiming for tío of the year for the many nephews and nieces his brother is sure to have. 

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of domestic qualities, he’s spent so much time with his abuela that he knows more dishes than his mom. He’s also had times when his mom got sick of constantly cooking for him, so he’ll be up at the crack of dawn fixing his own meals. His cleaning could use a lot of work. He knows the basics, but his family always fusses at him to do more than that. In front of you? He becomes a new person. All of a sudden, he remembers the ways his mother fussed at him to clean the house.  

E = Ending If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

ᰔ ᩚ Even though emotionally he’s extremely mature, he’d probably be a wreck when it comes to breaking up with you. He loves very deeply and separating from you has a high chance of sending him to the ER. If he doesn’t pass out while breaking up, he’d definitely be extremely sick afterwards. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he had to break up with you, he’d do it face to face because anything else is an insult to you. It’ll be somewhere public enough that you’re free to walk away from, but private enough to where no one will be like “wtf is up with those two?” He'll write out what he wants to say a thousand times over and have his desk littered with notebook paper. In his ‘speech’ he’ll praise you heavily but say something along the lines of “even though you are my sun, I can’t continue to drain your light.” Just VERY dramatic and heartfelt. He’d probably be sick enough to puke after watching you go. 

[Good thing this will NEVER HAPPEN. Even I, the angst lover, can not take that torture.]

F = Fiance(e) How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is fully committed to you even without the ring. He is quite the planner, so as soon as he reaches the end of undergrad, he’s already planning out his proposal. Of course, he’s asked you how you feel about marriage and has peeked over your shoulder at your Pinterest boards so he has an idea of what you would like. However, he’s truly a romantic, so he’s pulling out all of the stops. 

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t feel the need to get married right away because you both have huge futures to explore, but damn it, he wants people to know that you’re taken, so maybe he’ll buy you a promise ring. He’s willing to wait until you both have stable jobs before making the huge step to marriage, but he fights the urge to propose to you constantly. He also spoils you like crazy and he wants to earn the money for your rings rather than asking his family for help.

G = Gentle How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is the definition of a Gentle Giant. Really, it’s something that first grew from his mom always fussing at him to be a big boy so as to not make Gabriel upset, but his Grandma has always been so kind to him because she felt that Conchata treated him differently than Gabriel. 

ᰔ ᩚ Physically, he’s always extra aware of his surroundings because now, not only is he tall, but he’s also wide. There’s a new strength to him that he learned to control after roughhousing with Gabriel got a little too rough, ending in a fractured wrist bone. Miguel was crying more than Gabriel on the way to the hospital. He ended up helping him in saxophone practice for weeks. For you, you’re like his personal weighted plushie. He’s not going to be too rough, just firm squeezes every now and then. 

ᰔ ᩚ Emotionally, he’s always careful of what he says to others. It takes A LOT for him to yell or blow a fuse. He knows how much words can hurt so he never wants what he says to be the reason that someone is hurt. He cries at the drop of a hat. He’s gotten better at not crying so easily, but he definitely can’t see people he cares about cry. That night that you sobbed in his arms, he cried a little with you then and a lot while you were in the shower. When you first got together, he feared that his tears might be the breaking point for you but every time he cries in front of you, you’re there to wipe them away. 

He’s definitely crying on your wedding day.

H = Hugs Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

ᰔ ᩚ He loves hugs, but he’s certain that his family is sick of his hugs. Just like how big dogs don’t realize how big they are when curling up somewhere, he is very similar when he goes to hug his closest family. His Abuela will often fuss about how he’s just a big baby and Gabriel sets a three-minute time limit, claiming that he’s going to transfer his body heat if he hugs past that. His dad is not really known for hugging and his mom gets irritated too fast. You are the only one who can stand his hugs that feel like they last a lifetime. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s hugs feel like really warm firm clouds. His waist is itty bitty so your arms can completely go around it but if you put your hands in other areas, he’s bound to start borderline purring. You’re a lot softer than him so he craves seeking you out for hugs. He likes to give them for any occasion: when you’re about to part, when you see each other for the first time in a while, when you finish a set, when you’re sad, when you’re happy, when you’re out shopping and are indecisive about which color of a product you should buy, when you’re taking too long in the art store, when you’re fresh out the shower, etc. He’s just a cuddle bug read: clingy boyfriend.

I = I love you How fast do they say the L-word?

ᰔ ᩚ [According to the story] Miguel calls you his love over the phone during Thanksgiving break which is about four months after knowing you and about three months into dating. He calls you his darling by the time the New Year comes around, he also won over your mom a little after Valentine’s, and he admits to himself that he’s falling in love by the time the spring semester has ended.

ᰔ ᩚ He doesn’t say he loves you out loud until the dinner party after everyone pisses him off which is roughly seven months into dating. However, all of his actions from the handwritten cards to the handmade crafts to the thoughtful gifts to the sweet words have all been signs of his growing love for you. Quite frankly, he would have told you he loved you sooner if he didn’t want to freak you out and he tells you so the night his mother demeans you.

J = Jealousy How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

ᰔ ᩚ You haven’t seen the extent of how jealous Miguel can get, truly, you just know of the couple of times he’s almost knocked people out or been completely rude to the people he’s thought were trying to lead you on when he was standing right there. He has shocked himself with how green he gets but it doesn’t stop him from feeling that way. When he gets jealous, he’ll find little ways to show others that you’re his such as PDA, lingering a bit too close to you, glaring directly at others whose eyes are planted on you for far too long, or getting really mean towards people who make advances.

ᰔ ᩚ Oddly enough, he’s never aware of the things that he does that attracts others because he’s so busy trying to be cordial that it may come off as flirty. It’s very hard for him to push people off him because that’s never really happened to him until he started bulking up and again, he doesn’t want to hurt people that haven’t hurt him.

K = Kisses What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s kisses are consuming and soft, warm and inviting. He gives you his full attention and pours his entire heart into it. The feeling of him against you only really leaves you wanting more, so you have to snap out of it and tell yourself to regain control. He could probably spend an entire day just in your face making out without ever going further, but he might need frequent trips to the bathroom to calm himself down. 

ᰔ ᩚ He likes to kiss you on your lips mostly but his other favorite places to kiss you are your stomach, your collarbones, and your thighs. He has to limit himself from leaving marks all over your skin because he’s keen to do it if you don’t stop him. He also likes to be kissed on the lips and he especially loves it when he doesn’t expect them. Surprise kisses have him on cloud 9 for the rest of the day. He really loves it when you won’t bother to reach up to him or lean him down and you settle on kissing him in the middle of his chest. It feels like your lips warm up his heartbeat. Lastly, he feels ignited when you leave kisses on his back, especially the back of his neck. To him, it’s like a promise for more or a way to ignite him. Start kissing his back and he’s not letting you leave him for at least 20 minutes. 

L = Little ones How are they around children?

ᰔ ᩚ Kids use him like a jungle gym. He is a fan favorite amongst his baby cousins who are always asking to be thrown in the air. He would think some babies would be afraid of him, but once they’re in his arms, they’re either really excited about how high off the ground they are or they’ll fall asleep instantly in his arms. 

ᰔ ᩚ He’ll often tire the babies and kiddos out and his family will find him in a pile with him as the pillow to little heads. 

ᰔ ᩚ Another key thing is that he won’t use baby voices with babies, but rather he’ll talk to them like normal human beings. It’s very useful when he has to break up fights between his baby cousins who often argue over who gets to play with him first.

M = Morning How are mornings spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Mornings with Miguel are more like Miguel going to do his workout while you sleep. You’re not really a morning person, so you’re a bit drowsy whenever he kisses you all over your face before he leaves. He always chuckles at your sleepy state and urges himself to not get distracted, but more often than not, he wants to stay with you. Some mornings, he’ll get right back in the bed with you after his shower and kiss you until you wake up. 

ᰔ ᩚ On the mornings that you do go with him to the gym, it’s mostly him talking with you humming along one-word answers until you’re actually fighting for your life in the gym. Afterwards, he always takes you to go get breakfast whether that’s a smoothie or him making you something. 

N = Night How are nights spent with them?

ᰔ ᩚ Nights with Miguel are very loving! If you let him, he’d do everything from shower with you to brushing teeth together to skincare to hair care and so on. Being that both introverts and creatives often work/operate better at night, sometimes you both are up at all times of night doing anything. You could be drawing on your iPad while he’s up playing games with your feet in his lap.  

ᰔ ᩚ Sometimes this is also when he lets his most intimate thoughts slip out. With his head on your chest and your nails scratching against his scalp, he’s in his most vulnerable state.

O = Open When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than revealing things about himself, all of his drama just happens to unfold for him. The way he brought up Tyler Stone, the super famous tech CEO, being his father just happened to be the time when you were doing something extremely serious. 

ᰔ ᩚ He can tell you things and open up about his past, but you never really grasp how serious it is until it appears before your eyes. His turmoil with Kron was 4+ years in the making and the first time you met Kron just so happened to be the time Miguel connected his fist to his face. His relationship with his mom is something that’s been an uphill battle and you haven’t really seen how bad it can get, but you’ve felt how cruel she could be. Tyler's yearning for a relationship with his youngest son is something you see happening in real-time. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is as open as he can be, but nothing ever really prepares you for the real deal.

P = Patience How easily angered are they?

ᰔ ᩚ It takes a lot to push Miguel’s buttons because he often lets things pile up and boil over. He’s not easily pushed to true anger until someone hurts the people he loves. One time, Gabriel kept coming home crying but he wouldn’t tell Miguel who was hurting him. Once Miguel found out, he ripped the kid a new one which led to Conchatta grounding him for a week. His Abuela was proud of him for standing up for his brother and Gabriel snuck him sweets when he thought their parents weren’t looking. 

ᰔ ᩚ He really wanted to say more to his mother that night she hurt you, but Kron took most of the brunt of that anger which helped him level out a more reasonable response to his mother. He doesn’t like seeing you hurt especially over things that he finds to be beautiful about you.

Q = Quizzes How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been taking in details about you ever since he first saw you in his Biology class. It was almost as if he was studying you. He knows your favorites, he remembers your friends, he listens to you constantly, and stores things for later. He even begins to know the subtle habits that you have. 

ᰔ ᩚ The only things that tend to go over his head are when you mention really advanced art techniques. As much as he tries, it never really sticks. He also conveniently forgets how often he asks for cuddles.

R = Remember What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a bank of lovely memories about you stored in his mind (and many more to come 😗). One of his favorite memories was when you went out of your way to make sure that those sorority girls got suspended. He often lets bad things happen to him until he can't control it, but you immediately caught the situation and nipped it in the bud right away. He’s never really had anyone do anything to that extent for him as fast as you did and even though he knew he wanted to pursue a relationship with you before, from that moment he knew that you were special.

ᰔ ᩚ Another memory is the last-minute birthday present that you got for him. It was so thoughtful and sweet and he’s constantly using it. The two of you were only at the sproutings of a relationship so to make such an impactful gift meant a lot.

S = Security How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s extremely protective. This means little things from making sure that he’s the one walking closer to the street and watching your drink while you’re dancing to big things like intervening when men don’t catch the hint to roughing up men that don’t respect your boundaries. He’s willing to use his brute strength in order to make sure no harm comes to you but he hopes it never has to get to that point. He’d rather use his strength to carry you in his arms. 

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel doesn’t really feel the need to be protected but when you go out of your way to protect him, he can’t help but think that it feels nice. Like, look at my girlfriend going out of her way to make sure that I’m alright, to make sure that I know that I deserve to be protected too. There’s really no other feeling like it to him.

T = Try How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel goes through so much effort for anything that involves you. He tends to go a little stir-crazy when planning. He marks up his calendar, sets appointments, makes calls, pulls certain strings: anything he can do to see a smile on your face. He remembers so many details about you just so he can pull together the perfect gift. With Tyler trying to get on his good side, he may or may not have asked him to help him out with things that are on the expensive side. 

ᰔ ᩚ However, there are things he does that does not involve so much money. Your cafe dates, your study dates in the library, your handmade gifts, and your nights riding around in his Range Rover getting late-night food. If you’re sick, he’ll bring you tea and make you soup. He’s there when you’re cramping, soft hoodie on and heating pad in hand. He waits for you after your art classes, ready to carry your portfolio across campus. He takes your glasses off when you fall asleep with them on and soaks your oil brushes when you’re in a rush. He cares about you deeply.

ᰔ ᩚ Your one-year anniversary is soon…what does Miguel have planned? 🤔

U = Ugly What would be some bad habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a nasty habit of overthinking. He often thinks too much for his own good, which is why exercising is so close to him as it forces him to focus on his form and his sets rather than the running hamster wheel of words in his mind. His overthinking could lead to imposter syndrome which in turn causes him to question whether or not he deserves the nice things he has, whether or not he deserves to be with you. With the big reveal of the man he’s known all of his life not actually being his dad, it really only dug a deeper hole into the habit he’s had ever since his mom’s different treatment of him versus Gabriel.

ᰔ ᩚ On the other end of the spectrum, he can be a bit of a perfectionist which can lead to stubbornness. Conchata has berated him all of his life, so at first, he felt the need to appeal to her good side as her son. The older he got, the more this turned into battles of proving her wrong. No, he wasn’t a bad influence on Gabriel. Yes, he could get all A’s and stay up playing video games. No, he wasn’t afraid to end up alone. Yes, he would try to go to some far-off college. 

ᰔ ᩚ His relationship with his mother is far from fixed, and there's no telling how these habits are to continue to affect his other relationships.

V = Vanity How concerned are they with their looks?

ᰔ ᩚ At first, Miguel would just own a few nice looks here and there. He’d only really care about the quality of his graphic tees, the softness of his sweaters, and trying to avoid high-water pants. Between his parents and his grandma, a lot of the clothes he got made him resemble a lanky old man. It wasn’t until he started to bulk up that his wardrobe took a change. His old tees could barely fit over his arms and the bigger ones got turned into crop tops to chill out in. His sweaters went to Gabriel who threw them in the deepest pits of his closet. 

ᰔ ᩚ Gabriel ended up styling him at one point which resulted in a lot of extra basketball shorts and god-awful t-shirt hoodies. If it weren’t for Dana and his older cousins telling him that he looked like an extra off of Jersey Shore, he would have never changed. He quietly asked Tyler for some kind of stylist which in turn helped him to find more clothes that fit his new body type. 

ᰔ ᩚ When you come around, you expand his style even more with your eye for detail and your insistence on having coordinating outfits. You know what looks good on him and with the way your eyes trail his body, he for sure knows what you think is hot.

W = Whole Would they feel incomplete without you?

ᰔ ᩚ Absolutely. 1000%. (More of this will play out a bit in Part 10…)

ᰔ ᩚ Obviously, in any Honeymoon stage of a relationship, the couple can feel extremely lonely without their other half. Miguel is an absolute yearner. He hates parting ways no matter how at ease he feels by himself. He never really thought of himself as someone who needs a partner, but now that he has you, he’s trying to juggle between knowing when to give you space and knowing when to impede your space. He feels a lot lighter when you’re around, a lot freer. Tackling college felt so foreign to him, but with you, he feels like he can conquer anything. 

ᰔ ᩚ If you were to ever leave this world before him, there would already be enough bits and pieces of you left to fill the half of his missing heart. The only thing is, he would miss your presence dearly and that radiant smile of yours. In his dreams would be the only place where he could feel whole again. X = Xtra A random headcanon for them.

I have three

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves PDA, but sometimes, you’re still a bit shy about it, so you found a compromise: a fidget ring. When he wants to love on you so bad that he can’t stand it, but you’re hyper-aware of the people around you, he’ll take your hand and just start spinning the ring. It’s your sign that he’s craving your touch. It doubles as a distraction when you’re in crowded spaces and his energy levels are low. You can tell when he’s ready to leave an event with the way he’s fidgeting with the ring. A slower tempo means he wants to exit a conversation, a faster tempo could mean he’s overwhelmed or nervous, and moving the entire ring around means he’s ready to go. It’s an effective system for communication between the two of you.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel loves, loves, LOVES girly pop music. It gives him so much energy during his workouts and what’s better is that they’re really catchy. He hasn’t gone out of his way to watch any of the music videos or learn the dances, but take him to a concert, and he’s bound to know the words. He also has a high chance of being put on the Jumbotron or being called up on stage which could lead to intense screams from others and an awkward dance from him. Gabriel has a stan account that he refuses to show his brother’s face on because he knows it’s bound to be his most popular post.

ᰔ ᩚ Even though he’s extremely book smart and intelligent, when it comes to you, the Himbo gene activates. One compliment from you, no matter how small it is, could have him grinning like a fool all day. Whatever it is you complimented him on will be brought to the forefront constantly. He’ll buy a horrid amount of cologne just because you said you liked the way he smelled that day. He’ll take pictures of himself at the same angle because you thought one photo of him was good enough to put as your phone background. He’ll get worked up with one touch in public from you, especially if you haven’t touched him all day that day. He might even do something that you mentioned off-handedly from a TikTok or a tweet like buy a t-shirt with your face on it or have the lights on his Range Rover doors reflect your name. Sometimes you have to tell him to cool it, but if you praise him for it, he’s going to keep doing it.

Y = Yuck What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

ᰔ ᩚ In general, Miguel doesn’t like when people aren’t direct. He’s not a mind reader so he prefers when people say exactly how they feel rather than beat around the bush. People have done that far too much with him so he gets irritated when he’s put in a situation where the other party is not being upfront with him. He also hates when people are bullies for no reason. He’s not here to figure out why someone is taking out their insecurities on others but he will put them in their place. 

ᰔ ᩚ He also severely hates when people interrupt his sets. If you see he’s using the machine and he’s in the zone, why are you bothering him? He likes to think that he gives off the energy of a determined Gym Bro but in reality, he just looks really hot racking up those weights. Either way, don’t fuck up his set.

ᰔ ᩚ In a partner, he wouldn’t want someone that disrespects his family. He knows it’s a little dysfunctional, but his partner has to be truly dedicated to him before they even think about complaining about his family. He also tends to like his partners on the thicker side. He’s for all bodies, but he prefers when his partner has something he can feel so he honestly wouldn’t like it if his partner was too much smaller than him. 

Z = Zzz What is a sleep habits of theirs?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel always needs to hold onto something when he sleeps. Whether that be the pillow, the comforter, or you, he needs something in his arms. It can make for a very hot bed so whenever you guys are going to sleep together or taking a nap, you make sure to have a fan right by the bed. More often than not, he’s sleeping without a shirt on.

ᰔ ᩚ One other habit is how he gets when he’s really sleepy. He gets a bit whiny and grabby with tears threatening to fall with how much he’s yawning. He’ll say things that he won’t remember the next day like how pretty you are or how much he loves you. He might talk in his sleep a bit before he’s completely out of it which makes for hilarious videos. Like this, his snores are a little louder and his face pressed against the pillow is super cute. 

ᰔ ᩚ In the morning time, when he doesn’t have a workout planned, he might have a little drool from how hard he slept. If you wake up before him, he’ll squint at the light and mumble about what time it is. 

[THE MAJORITY OF THIS SECTION CONTAINS THE TRUE SPOILERS]

A = Aftercare what they’re like after sex

ᰔ ᩚ During sex, he gets in a specific mindset similar to the one he has in the gym, so it might take him a minute or so to snap out of it. He’ll be so wrapped up in the pleasure of the moment that he’ll forget that he needs to stop and make sure that you’re ok. Once he’s back focused, he’ll wipe your body clean and massage the muscles he’s sure to have stretched out. After that, he’s in dire need of cuddles and kisses.

B = Body part their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

ᰔ ᩚ Other than his face, which he agrees is pretty hot, his favorite body part of his own might be his arms. He worked hard for them! He’s always shocked looking back at old pictures of himself, seeing how he’s nearly triple the size, and wondering who that guy is. He also thinks that the Stone side has blessed him greatly with his dick. He’s always been well-endowed. When you came into his life, he found a new great appreciation for his own thighs, although he’s still battling with the thought of you wanting to be choked in them.

ᰔ ᩚ For you, what part of you doesn’t he like? He couldn’t really choose if his life depended on it because there’s so much to love. However, there’s no better feeling than the weight of your ass and thighs against his lap. If you could use him as a chair constantly, he’ll never complain. It’s the perfect position for him to feel you up and plant his face right in your cleavage. If your back is to him while you’re on his lap, then his hands are immediately on your stomach. You used to hate it at first because he would just squeeze at it or tickle you constantly, but he really loves to place his hands on the warmest parts of you, and right under your stomach happens to be one of those zones. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he said he liked his forehead being pressed up against your stomach while he ate you out, you wouldn’t get mad, right?

C = Cum anything to do with cum, basically

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel hasn’t really talked about it with you but, he especially loves it when he marks you. You always look so pretty with him painted across his skin, and he has so much to give. When his dick is down your throat and you try your best to swallow all of him, he feels feverish when it spills out down your face. He can’t help but think about how gorgeous you look. When he’s fucking your thighs and it spills onto your skin he just wants to rub it in.

ᰔ ᩚ When he’s inside of you and it just won’t stop dripping out of you, it riles him up even more. You’re his and his alone.

D = Dirty secret pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

ᰔ ᩚ He does have a few! One of which is fantasizing about you riding him on the bench press bench while the other side of the gym is occupied. It’s so unlike him, and when the thought first passed his mind, he was so ashamed he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes for a day, nor use the bench press without getting lightheaded. Just the thought of you leaning over him blocking out the bright lights of the gym, sweat dripping onto him,  and watching your ass hit his skin in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors was enough to get him to plan out how to build out his gym in his future home. 

ᰔ ᩚ Another is the amount of times he’s gotten off to the thought of you before you were officially together. He told you about the wet dreams, but he didn’t tell you how bad it was. He’s not sure if he’s ever produced that much cum in his life. It’s a wonder he was able to hold steady conversations with you with how head-over-heels he was. He fantasized about the sounds you would make and tried to remember how your body felt against his from the little touches you gave him. He tried to hone it down because, god, that’s creepy, but you were so radiant that you never really escaped his mind.

E = Experience how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is what I deem as a “virgin slut.” He’s very inexperienced when it comes to love, relationships, and sex, but he knows too much by proxy.  Again, he’s the parent friend that’s always giving advice, so for the most part, he knows what and what not to do. He’s heard about the things that his friends have done and he’s wondered what experiencing it would be like with you.

ᰔ ᩚ Would you like this position? Would you want to try this with him? Does he want to know what this would feel like? While he feels a little embarrassed to be so inexperienced, he’s happy that you’re excited to share these new experiences with him.

ᰔ ᩚ In terms of sex and foreplay, he’s learning as he goes, going with what feels good and what you react well to. He’s constantly researching, remembering, and trying out new techniques. You’re his first, and if he has any say in it, his last, so he feels that there is plenty of time to get to a more experienced level.

F = Favorite position this goes without saying

ᰔ ᩚ Any position where your breasts are in his face is a position he’s happy in. There’s nothing like watching them bounce while you ride him within an inch of his life. He wants to look at them, he wants to put his mouth on them, he wants to suck them, he wants to bite them: just put them in his face.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel also really adores any position he can hold you in. He notices how excited your body gets when he’s balancing you in his arms while pounding away. You get so wet that he’s mesmerized. The tight feeling of both you around him and your shaking hands gripping his shoulders keeps him going. He really just wants to see every ounce of your body move with him.

ᰔ ᩚ Did he tell you that he wanted you to sit on his face today or did he forget to set his reminder? 

G = Goofy are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is very serious in the moment because nothing is funny about your pleasure. All the laughing and giggling will happen before he’s sinking into you. He’s very serious about watching your face and your body for anything new and familiar. Did you think something was funny before? Well, he’s making sure that you’re not laughing by the time he’s finished.

ᰔ ᩚ Rather than being goofy, he will ask you something out of left field in the middle of the moment if he feels that you two have something to work out.

H = Hair how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is not the hairiest but he also doesn’t not have hair. His friend waxed him for practice one time and he’s certain that he’ll never let her do that shit again. He keeps his face clean because he feels like growing out his facial hair makes him look scruffy, although you’d argue that he looks pretty cute. 

ᰔ ᩚ His happy trail does lead like a nice present to his gift that keeps giving. He will let you trim him from time to time and help him wax when the sun is getting too hot. 

I = Intimacy how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect

ᰔ ᩚ He is very intimate during the moment, especially during your first few times together. He’s always reassuring you and holding you close. His eyes never really leave your face when you’re pleasuring yourself or reaching your peak. He loves to talk into your skin and your ears. 

ᰔ ᩚ If he’s not grabbing onto you, he’s holding your hands and rocking into you. He’s kissing your wrists and your cheeks, wiping any tears away. Where you might not be able to speak, he’s asking yes or no questions, wiping your hair out of your face, and telling you to let go. 

J = Jack off masturbation headcanon

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s sessions usually take a lot, but since gaining a roommate, he can’t go all out like he usually does. He cums a lot so he usually has to put a towel down or waits until he gets into the shower to fully let go. He prefers to use both hands whether that means lifting his hips off the bed while he jerks or holding his dick in one hand while playing with his nipple in another. 

ᰔ ᩚ His sessions after you both get together were even messier, especially with you giving him new material. Voice recordings, polaroids, phone calls: all of it is being used for him to get off when you’re not near. 

ᰔ ᩚ Once, you called him in the middle of one and he was winded as ever. You recognized those breaths the instant he talked and brought him to the hilt with your voice alone. He fell a little more in love with you that day but panicked when you wanted to switch to FaceTime. 

ᰔ ᩚ His chest was….a mess, but you giggled at how cute he was anyway. 

K = Kink one or more of their kinks

ᰔ ᩚ Praise kink: Miguel loves to hear that he’s doing well. Please tell him that he’s doing well, he craves it. There’s definitely a reason that he needs to hear you urge him on, but your voice always sounds so good when you’re in his ear. Tell him how good he made you feel, tell him you’re proud of him, and maybe call him a good boyfriend and he’ll start trembling. 

ᰔ ᩚ Hair pulling: This is one that he didn’t know he had until you accidentally yanked his head too hard while trying to stop him from tickling your stomach with his breath. He kind of froze when the groan came out of him, leaving you staring at each other for about three minutes. Once he realized what happened, his face went beat red and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes for the rest of the night. You promised him it was ok, and tested out a little hair-pulling a few weeks later which he thoroughly enjoyed. He especially loves it when you pull his hair while he’s in between your legs. He cums almost instantly. 

ᰔ ᩚ Semi-public sex: There’s something about fooling around in “private” public areas that turns him on. On the balconies of hotel rooms, in private yacht pools, in dressing rooms, in his car: he just can’t wait until he’s in the bedroom, he needs you now. Are you both louder than you should be? Yep. Does he care? Not really. 

L = Location favorite places to do the do

ᰔ ᩚ Again, he loves semi-public sex, but he also really loves even more intimate places like on vacation in your hotel room or on your dorm bed when Jess isn’t in there. (Although you’ve told him many times that having sex in that open room could be rude. As a compromise, he brings you to his dorm and fucks you there instead. Peter can live.) He really wants to make love to you in his childhood bedroom (the room is full of him but he wants your scent in his sheets), but he knows his mom is far too nosy for that to even happen. He’s not even sure if he could make out with you without her coming in there to check on you two. 

M = Motivation what turns them on, gets them going

ᰔ ᩚ Honestly, you could probably just stand there and Miguel would conjure up a way to be turned on. Seriously though, it’s little things like seeing your midriff or hearing you call him baby in a different tone, especially if you’re doing something sexual, that gets him going. If you do something like extensive PDA (rubbing up against him, kissing him long enough to use tongue, dancing on him), wear clothes that show off your body, or when you stare at him while he’s doing his work.

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re wearing a dress that he can see your fupa through? Hard. When you’re doing jumping jacks next to him in the gym during his sets? Turned on. When you wear his clothes? Rock solid. When you take the initiative? Puddy. When you let others know that he’s yours? You might not make it to your destination without him touching you in some way.

N = No something they wouldn’t do, turn offs

ᰔ ᩚ He’s not into degradation AT ALL. He’s way too much of a gentle lover/boyfriend to ever put you on a lower level than him whether it’s supposed to be enjoyable or not. 

ᰔ ᩚ He is also not into pain specifically when it comes to giving it. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He might do a light smack every now and then but he can’t bring himself to inflict pain, especially if it bruises. The closest you might get to that is if he gets too carried away when pounding into you, and once it’s all over, he’ll feel like a dickhead. It takes him a while to realize that you don’t mind it when his skin is slapping against yours hard enough to sting later.

ᰔ ᩚ One last slight turn off is choking. He’s never going to be comfortable enough to wrap his hands around your neck. You’re determined to let his thighs squeeze you at least once, but if he hurts you by accident, he might do something incredibly drastic. 

O = Oral preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel O’Hara is a munch. Miguel Munch O’Hara. He could stay down there for hours. Being that the first time he ate you out he actually had you screaming, he would say that he’s pretty good at it. But! There’s always room for improvement. For example, he wants you to sit on him and he wants to heat you out while you’re sitting on his shoulders. He’s slowly, but surely, inching his way there.

ᰔ ᩚ He likes giving more than receiving mostly because he can’t look down at you giving him head without losing his mind. At least if he’s eating you out, he can keep going if he cums. If he cums while you’re swallowing him, he needs at least a minute or two to reset. Not to mention, the sounds your throat makes when you’re sucking him in makes him conflicted. You promise you like it, and he loves the feeling, but he’s still wary of fucking into your mouth and hurting you.

P = Pace are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel’s pace is deep, slow, and sensual because he has to pace himself. If he’s wrapped up in you, he’s bound to forget about his own pleasure in place of making sure you’re feeling good, but once you get to sinking him in and squeezing so tight, he wants to hold that out as long as possible.

Q = Quickie their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ They seem nice. If only he could commit to them. Quickies often turn from 10 minutes to 20 minutes to way too long in a compromising position. Also, there’s way too much to clean up for what he does with you to be considered a quickie.

R = Risk are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

ᰔ ᩚ With you? He’s willing to try most things, although they’re mainly vanilla. Risks for him might lead to late night trips to CVS for a pregnancy test so it’s best that he researches and plans things out thoroughly. Right now, the most he might be eager to do is change up the positions and try not to touch you.

S = Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has a lot of stamina! He’s not in the gym for shits and giggles. Still, to him, he has a lot of work to do in terms of going all night. Right now, he can last for about 2-3 rounds without breaking a sweat. If he focuses on you, he can extend that number to about 4 rounds. His refractory period is also pretty stellar if he must say so himself.

ᰔ ᩚ Now, whether or not you can keep up with him is to be determined. 

T = Toys do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel has been too scared to own a toy living in his mother’s home, so he’s never bought one. (How Gabriel got away with buying the most obscure things, he’ll never know) The only thing he has is the bottle of lube that he frequents and his extra sets of towels to cover his bed.

ᰔ ᩚ On you, he’s happy to try out whatever you’ve got. He was really fascinated with the mechanics of your rose toy, but he’s also determined to make you have the same reaction with just his mouth alone. What kind of boyfriend is he if he can’t make you forget about your tiny pieces of plastic?

ᰔ ᩚ He’s also interested in trying out different types of lube, but he’s got to research which ones are really worth it.

U = Unfair how much they like to tease

ᰔ ᩚ Open the dictionary, flip to the T section, slide down the pages until you find the word “tease,”  and you’ll see Miguel’s government name on the third definition of the word. He likes to claim that you’re a tease when really, he’s just a horny himbo. He knows what he’s doing when he sends you sweaty gym pictures. He knows what he’s doing when he dresses up all nice for you. He knows what he’s doing he’s all in your face in public, feening for a reaction out of you. He messes with you on purpose. 

ᰔ ᩚ Let this behavior make it to the bedroom and he’s either going to regret it once you take over OR he’s going to continue it until you’re coming apart in his arms. Teasing you always leads to great, great sex.

V = Volume how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is loud as fuck. He has to cover his mouth when he’s alone in his room thinking about you. When he’s inside of you, if he’s not moaning into your mouth, he’s breathing heavy right in your ear or groaning loudly right into your shoulders. He’ll often be louder than you. If you’re moaning with him, he encourages you and sings right along with you. 

ᰔ ᩚ If you’re focusing on his pleasure, he’s hyper-aware of the sounds he makes so he tries to muffle them which leads to whimpers and whines. You love it when he gets this way.

W = Wild card a random headcanon for the character

ᰔ ᩚ Hip thrusts are a great exercise for the lower half of your body and should never be missed on leg day. They pinpoint the glutes, the abs, the hips, the hamstrings, the back, and the quads. With a steady added weight, anyone who is doing this exercise possibly is sure to grow those muscles greatly over time.

ᰔ ᩚ Miguel is never missing a chance to do hip thrusts because he is determined to fuck you this way. He can only imagine the shock on your face as he holds you up and pumps into you with a steady rhythm. 

ᰔ ᩚ He’s never missing leg day.

X = X-ray let’s see what’s going on under those clothes

ᰔ ᩚ He’s definitely a shower which is why his tiny little exercise shorts can get buck-eyed looks sometimes. The first time you saw him, you felt yourself panic a bit. But the weight in your mouth? Indescribable. 

ᰔ ᩚ To you, he’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. If you had to guess, he’s probably 8- 9 inches, but it doesn’t really matter when you’re watching him leak like a faucet. He curves so nicely and definitely feel the effect of it when he lands. Watching it twitch to life has given you more inspiration than you care to admit.

Y = Yearning how high is their sex drive?

ᰔ ᩚ It’s too high for his own good. He can switch like a light and be ready to go down in you within minutes. It’s that foggy himbo mindset and the fact that you’re his first girlfriend. There have been many times where he’s gotten distracted by just thinking about you and the things he wants to do. He riles himself up when researching techniques, so of course he’s ready to be in you at any time.

Z = Zzz how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

ᰔ ᩚ Once you’ve both settled down, he’s out like a log. Let’s be real, not only has he probably worked himself up, but you definitely knocked him out with how good you gave it to him. He uses all the stamina during sex and when it’s over, the energy just fizzles out. It’s funny because you would think you were supposed to be the one that’s barely holding on, but there he is, mumbling into your skin.

ᰔ ᩚ This is definitely the time to get really soft responses out of him: satisfied, pussy-whipped, and dozing off.

This was really fun! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

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[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! I'm back with another Merlin au idea! This story was actually supposed to be a part of my fic "What to do When an Eldritch God Decides That You're Friend-Shaped", but I decided that this idea didn't really mesh well with the rest of that fic and would probably be better off as its own separate story.

And I will say, in my opinion, that this is probably one of my best au ideas yet. I had so much fun just writing this! Also, heads up, this post is going to be very long because I really love this idea! So, I hope you all enjoy! :D

In this au, which is set post-Camlann, Morgana wasn't able to take Merlin's magic away before the battle, so Merlin was able to save Arthur and defeat both Mordred and Morgana without revealing his magic. He was also able to prevent Gwaine's death since he kept Morgana preoccupied in the battle. So, Camelot is saved, and everything is great!

Except, Arthur has some questions. He knows from Morgana's furious screams during the battle that she was killed by a sorcerer named "Emrys", but Arthur never saw him. And Arthur recognized that name from when Morgana taunted him years ago by saying "Not even Emrys can save you now."

Arthur knows that he owes his kingdom and perhaps his life to this Emrys guy, but he knows nothing about him other than that he's a very powerful sorcerer, more powerful than Morgana. This frightens Arthur, as he doesn't know what Emrys wants or why he helps Arthur. For all Arthur knows, Emrys could be just biding his time to take over Camelot and was simply doing away with his competition by killing Morgana.

After things calmed down after the battle of Camlann, Arthur decides that he needs more information on Emrys. Who he is, what are his motives, how can they find him, and a million other details that Arthur needs to ensure his people's safety. He first goes to Gaius for information, but Gaius can tells him that, according to the myths of the Old Religion, Emrys is the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth and is held in high regard by the druids.

Gaius's answer only heightens Arthur's alarm, as the prospect of having to fight to most powerful sorcerer ever is terrifying to him. However, he still doesn't have any good information on Emrys, so he goes to the next best source: the druids.

Thanks to Arthur making peace with the druids after promising the ghost of the young druid boy and permitting them to use their magic for peaceful purposes only, there were a couple druid camps not far from Camelot. Arthur picked the closer one and took a day to travel there alongside Merlin and a few knights in the hopes of finally getting some answers.

When they arrive at the camp, they're met with worried glances and panicked faces, but the druid elders welcome them into the camp nonetheless, offering them all a seat by their campfire and warm meal. Once they got settled and Arthur exchanged some pleasantries with Iseldir, the druid chieftain, Arthur was finally able to ask what had been plaguing him for weeks.

"Iseldir, I know that your people hold a sorcerer named Emrys in high regard, and it's come to my attention that he was responsible for Morgana's defeat at Camlann and possibly on other occasions. Please, I need to know more about him and why he's chosen to help me."

Several people froze and tensed at Arthur's questions, including Merlin. Arthur sighed internally at Merlin's usual panic. He knew that Merlin could become easily scared in the face of magic, so he should have knows that his friend wouldn't approve of Arthur actively seeking out a dangerous sorcerer.

After a short, tense pause, Iseldir clears his throat and responds.

"I'd be happy to answer some of your questions about the god of magic!"

Wait, did Arthur hear that correctly? God of magic?! Arthur, in his shock, blurted out,

"Emrys is a god?! I had heard that he was a powerful sorcerer, not some deity!"

Iseldir chuckled a bit before responding,

"Emrys is indeed the god of magic in the Old Religion, the son of the Triple Goddess herself! He is not simply the master of magic, but rather magic itself, its very incarnation!"

That... was a rather frightening prospect, and it confused Arthur even further. Why would magic itself fight against Morgana? Why take Arthur's side? And, perhaps more importantly, was Arthur going to have to fight a god in order to protect his kingdom?!

Iseldir continued before Arthur's hysterical thought could bubble up to the surface.

"As I said, I'm happy to answer your questions, but please know that there are some secrets that Emrys has entrusted our people with that we cannot divulge, and there are some truths that might be... difficult for you in particular."

Arthur frowned at Iseldir's answer, unsure of what to make of it.

"What do you mean it might be difficult for me in particular?"

Iseldir winced a bit, grimacing like he didn't know how to respond without warranting a negative response.

"Well, there are some elements of Emrys's story that intertwine with your own life in some ways that you might not expect or be ready to hear at this point. Your life and Emrys's are highly connected, King Arthur, even if you don't know the extent of it yet."

Arthur's eyes widened at this admission. His life was connected to this mysterious god of the old religion? How could that possibly be true? He had didn't even know that Emrys was a god until a few moments ago! However, as curious as he was about what Iseldir could be talking about, he had more pressing matters at hand.

"We can discuss how I am connected to Emrys later. For now, I need answers to more important questions. Why does Emrys help Camelot? What is he hoping to get out of it?"

Iseldir looked much happier to answer this question, speaking calmly with a serene smile on his face.

"Emrys had many reasons to stand against the witch. She frequently hunted down and killed more peaceful magic users who did not share her taste for vengeance and bloodshed, including our fellow druids and even the Catha, a small sect of priests of the Old Religion that followed Emrys's will. Emrys fought against Morgana to protect these followers of his from her wrath."

Arthur nodded at Iseldir's explanation. As odd as it felt to have something in common with a god of the Old Religion, he could understand very well the drive to protect his own people. If Emrys's people were also in danger because of Morgana, it made sense for him to join forces with Arthur, even if Arthur was unaware of that alliance. Seeing Arthur's understanding, Iseldir continued with his explanation.

"Emrys also fought against Morgana in order to punish her for her hubris and use of dark magic. There are certain dark arts that take the power that Emrys grants us and twist it into a horrible force, bound only by the will of its user. Such arts are expressly forbidden by Emrys, and he cannot control what sorcerers do with such magic after its been corrupted so thoroughly. Morgana frequently used such forbidden arts and claimed the title of high priestess while ignoring the will of the gods, even the one that she drew her power from. Emrys is normally slow to anger, but for such transgressions, he became furious with Morgana and sought to punish her for treason against magic itself."

Arthur understood that a little bit less, but he could also relate to Emrys's reasoning as a king who had also had to punish some of his own citizens for treason.

"I can see that Emrys stood opposed to Morgana, but does Camelot have anything to fear from him? I can understand why he might not be very forgiving towards us considering my father's actions during his reign."

To Arthur's immense relief, Iseldir shook his head slightly before providing an explanation.

"No, Camelot has nothing to fear from Emrys. He knows that not everyone in Camelot agreed with your father's actions, and he can see progress that you've made since the end of your father's reign. In fact, Emrys has assisted Camelot many times even when Morgana wasn't involved!"

Arthur reeled backwards in shock at Iseldir words. The god of magic, helping Camelot freely? Despite everything his father had done?! Iseldir's explanation forced Arthur to re-evaluate what he knew of the Old Religion.

He had always seen the Old Religion and its gods as monstrous and barbaric. However, that wasn't the case, was it? Emrys had saved the kingdom that sought to destroy him. The Disir had shown Mordred mercy, even though Arthur had rejected their offer. The White Goddess had restored Guinevere's soul at the Cauldron of Arianrhod and healed her of Morgana's curse. Were all of the gods and goddesses of the Old Religion so benevolent and kind? Had Arthur misunderstood the Old Religion for his entire life?

However, Arthur was still shocked at Emrys in particular choosing to help Camelot, supposedly with no ulterior motives besides a common enemy in Morgana. That was how Camelot had survived against such odds? How could it be that magic itself was on their side?!

As Arthur looked at Iseldir again however, he noticed that the druid chieftain's face had pulled into a grimace again. Arthur certainly knew that look, he had seen it on the faces of his council members frequently.

"There's something that you aren't telling me, isn't there? I know that there are some things that you may be hesitant to divulge, but please, I must know everything I can about Emrys, for the safety of my kingdom."

Iseldir paused again, sighing deeply. He sat still for a moment, as if pondering how to proceed.

"Truthfully, there is another reason why Emrys assisted you, but it involves what I spoke of earlier, wen I said that your life and Emrys's are connected in ways that you may not expect. I am willing to tell you such things, but these truths might be hard for you to hear."

Arthur leaned forward, his curiosity piqued again.

"I have learned many uncomfortable truths about my own life through the years, so I will ask you: how could my life be connected to the god of magic?"

Iseldir nodded at Arthur's words and began speaking with a serious, nearly grim, voice.

"I assume that you are familiar with how life is exchanged in the practice of the Old Religion? For any life give, a life must be taken."

Arthur flinched backwards at Iseldir's words, already recognizing what topic was about to be brought up. He had come to terms with the truth of his birth years ago, but hearing it again didn't make it any easier. Blinking back tears, Arthur responded.

"Yes, I... I know. I'm aware that my father made a deal with the priestess Nimueh to secure an heir, and I know that my mother was the one who paid the price in the end."

Arthur heard quiet gasps coming from the knights around him, while Merlin silently put a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder. Iseldir, after a moment, continued with his explanation.

"You are correct in your understanding, however, there is one part of the story that you are unaware of."

Arthur jolted in shock at Iseldir's words. There was more to the story of his birth? Frantically, Arthur started asking questions.

"What do you mean? What haven't I been told?"

Iseldir patiently and softly answered Arthur's questions, trying to soften the crushing revelation that he was about to tell Arthur.

"The balance of life and death is at the very core of the Old Religion. However, it is not the power of creation. The power over life and death was used by the high priestesses to resurrect and bring life to someone who has already passed. To magically create a new life, a new soul, from nothing is an act of creation, something that takes far more power than manipulating the balance of life and death. An act of creation takes the power of a god."

"I... I don't understand. What are you trying to tell me?"

"I am sorry that you had to find out this way, King Arthur. But in order to successfully ensure that your mother and father had an heir, Nimueh called upon the power of her patron god: Emrys."

This time, it was Arthur was gasped in shock at this information, hysteria rising in him once again.

"Are you telling me that Emrys was responsible for my very creation?! That it was his power that created me?!"

"More than that, I'm afraid. To create your soul, Emrys did more than just weave his own power into a life. He cut out a shard of his own soul and breathed life into it, thus creating you. While we don't know his reasons for doing so, Emrys created you from a part of his own being."

Arthur felt like his breath had just been punched out of him. What... what did this mean?!

Iseldir must have seen his panic, and further clarified.

"In the eyes of the gods, this made Emrys your true creator and, in the eyes of the magical world, your father."

At those words, Arthur stopped breathing entirely. Unbeknownst to Iseldir, who kept going with his explanation, Arthur entire worldview was collapsing in on itself.

Magic itself was his father?! What did that even mean?!

And oh god was he even a Pendragon? Did he even have a legitimate claim to the throne of Camelot?!

Arthur's panic was so strong that he could barely feel how Merlin's supportive hand on his shoulder was now clenching hard enough to bruise.

(Meanwhile, inside Merlin's panicking mind: WTF??! Oh shit I owed HOW MUCH to Uther Pendragon in child support?! Am I a deadbeat dad to my own best friend??)

"This is why you triumphed over any foe, magical or otherwise. Emrys forbade any magic from truly harming you, and he rose to protect you when you needed him. He will always fight by your side, as you are, in many ways, a part of him."

Iseldir paused, now noticing Arthur's hyperventilating.

"I assume that you have many questions following this news. Please, feel free to ask anything, there's no need to be scared by this!"

Arthur took a deep breath and tried to keep from laugh hysterically. No need to be scared?! His entire life had just been turned on its head!

"If... if Emrys is my true father, what about Uther? Do I even have a claim to my throne?"

"Ah, there's no need to worried about that. While Emrys might be your father in terms of your soul, Uther is still your father in terms of blood. Do not fret, King Arthur, you are still of Pendragon blood and have every rightful claim to your throne."

Arthur calmed down a bit at Iseldir's words, breathing much easier now. This explained so many things about Arthur's life, how he had survived in situations that he by all means shouldn't have. Still, he had many questions for Iseldir.

"If I am truly the son of magic itself, am I even human, or am I some sort of demigod?"

At this question, Iseldir shook his head.

"That, I truly do not know. I'm sorry, but I don't think anyone knows the answer to that question except for Emrys himself."

Finally, an idea occurred to Arthur. He stiffened as he blurted out,

"Can I speak with him then? Is there any way to summon him?"

As soon as the idea took root in Arthur's mind, he couldn't get it out. Emrys had to have been looking out for Arthur for many years now, using his power to protect him. This notion of having a secret father who had been caring for him for years almost felt like having a second chance.

Arthur never had the relationship with Uther that he wanted. There was no affection, no bonding, and no comfort to be found there. Only expectations and demands.

But Emrys had apparently been helping Arthur for years with no expectations and no demands. Arthur had fantasized as a young boy about what it would have been like to have a kind, caring father, the kind he saw doting on their children in the marketplace. Now, it almost seemed like he had another chance of having a father, one who truly cared about him!

So naturally, Arthur wanted to meet him! Both the druids and the knights look slightly confused at Arthur's excited outburst about wanting to meet Emrys, but the druids tell him that they have everything that they need to perform a summoning ritual, but they'd need some time to set it up.

Arthur asks if they can set it up for him, and they nod and walk away to begin preparations. Meanwhile, Merlin and the knights ask Arthur if he's just lost his mind. They know that this must be shocking for him, but does he need to summon a god?!

Merlin shows the most vocal opposition to Arthur's plan, saying that they still don't even know if they can trust Emrys. All they have to go on is the word of the druids, and they seem pretty biased in Emrys's favor.

Arthur smiles and tells Merlin that he appreciates his protectiveness, but this is something that Arthur needs to do. He needs this closure, this chance to connect with his last living parent.

Arthur does take Merlin's concerns into consideration though, and orders for his men to leave the camp and take Merlin with them, so they're far away and protected if Emrys turns out to be untrustworthy.

(As the knights drag a struggling Merlin away, Merlin is frantically talking with Iseldir in his mind about what the summoning ritual entails and what it looks like. If he magically pops up next to Arthur right as Arthur does a ritual to summon Emrys, even Arthur would be able to put two and two together!

Luckily, Iseldir informs him that the summoning ritual will summon his soul, not his body, and Arthur wouldn't be able to recognize him. Still, Merlin tried to talk the druids out of the ritual, because Merlin doesn't want his soul to get yanked out of his body! But there was little that the druids could do with Arthur insisting on the ritual.)

After preparing the materials for the ritual, the druids take Arthur back into a tent to get him ready. Arthur's heart pounded in his chest with both excitement and fear as the druids walked him through what he had to do.

First, they gave him some plain but comfortable robes to change in to. They explained that Emrys preferred his followers to come to him in the garments of peace, not war, so his armor, chainmail, and weapons would have to be left in the tent.

After changing into the robes, Arthur felt strangely both vulnerable and comforted. As the druids rubbed some flowery smelling oil into his arms and then led him to a small wooden altar, Arthur couldn't help comparing this experience to approaching Uther.

Whenever he was meeting with his father, Arthur was expected to show no weakness, no flaws. He had to look the part of the warrior prince, trained since birth and hardened by battle. However, here with Emrys, Arthur was dressed in comfortable clothes and told to simply ask for Emrys's presence before the altar. He didn't need a sacrifice or penance or any sort of challenge to summon Emrys. All that the druids told him was to "call for him, and Emrys will answer."

Placing one hand gently on the wooden surface of the intricately carved altar, Arthur cleared his throat wetly before saying aloud to the empty space in front of him,

"Emrys, I'm... I'm not sure if you're here, but I'm your- your son, Arthur. You probably know me already, though, since you've been helping me and protecting me for a long time now. I- I wanted to thank you for your help. So, I would appreciate it if you could appear, so I could meet you and thank you in person."

There, Arthur thought that was a pretty good introduction! This was his first time meeting his new father, so he needed to make a good first impression!

Arthur stood, awkwardly shifting on his feet as he tried to push down his disappointment with each passing moment that Emrys did not appear. Maybe Arthur did it wrong? Maybe Emrys hadn't heard him? Or maybe Emrys had heard him, but was disappointed in Arthur and deemed him a weak son, just like Uther had?

As Arthur tried to swallow down his hurt, suddenly, there was a bright flash of light above the altar. It was so bright that Arthur had to throw his hand in front of his eyes and turn away, but his heart leapt at the sight.

Was this it?! Was he about to meet his creator and have another chance at having a father?

As soon as he could, Arthur lowered his hand and opened his eyes, anxiously awaiting his first glimpse at Emrys! As the light died down, Arthur was able to make out the outline of something...

As the light slowly dwindled, Arthur could see a bright, glowing ball of golden light, very similar to the one that had saved him from that cave so many years ago, floating above the altar. His eyes widened as he realized what, or more likely who, this light must be.

Emrys was a god after all, Arthur really shouldn't have assumed that he'd look like a human. The god of magic taking a human form, what a crazy idea!

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Arthur called out to the light.

"Emrys? Is that you?"

At his words, the light floated down from the altar until it was hovering right in front of Arthur, an arm's reach away. Arthur fought the urge to reach out and touch the light, just to see if it was real and not just a product of his own wishful thinking.

After a couple seconds, the ball of light flashed, and Arthur heard what sounded like multiple voices coming from it, speaking in unison.

"Hello Arthur. I'm so glad to finally be able to meet you. I am Emrys."

(Elsewhere, Merlin mentally patted himself on the back for making his soul-self sound sufficiently inhuman and speak in a manner that was completely unlike his usual self. Arthur couldn't possibly figure his identity out now!)

Arthur let out a sound that was something between a joyful laugh and a sob. Emrys actually came! Clearing his throat, Arthur tried to calm down his excitement and nerves and put on his best diplomat voice. He needed to start off strong here!

"I'm glad that we could meet as well. It's come to my attention that I have many things to thank you for, including Camelot's victory over Morgana in our latest battle. You might have saved all of Camelot, and I owe you a debt of gratitude."

Emrys silently floated in place for a moment, making Arthur sweat with nervousness. Had he already blown his one chance of having a caring parent?

Finally, Emrys's... orb body (what else was Arthur supposed to call it?!) glowed again and spoke with his multiple voices overlapping in harmony.

"You do not owe me anything, Arthur. There are no debts between us. We are family, tied together by our very souls. You never have to feel indebted to me for protecting you and Camelot. I do it not for a reward or recognition, but because I care for you."

Arthur's eyes misted over as he took in Emrys's words. How many times had he wished to hear anything like that from Uther? How many nights had he lied awake wondering what unconditional love from a parent would feel like?

As tears started silently rolling down Arthur's face, Emrys drifted closer to him. Arthur was startled by this move and didn't really know how to respond. Hesitantly, he lifted his hands to ball of light, unsure of what to do.

Slowly, the light moved towards Arthur's outreached hands. Arthur almost expected to flinch back upon contact, but instead, when his hands finally touched the ball of light itself, he was only met with a warm, comforting sensation, and he instantly relaxed and leaned into it. The only thing he could compare it to were those warm hugs that Merlin gave him whenever he felt down, which he would never admit to Merlin that he enjoyed.

Arthur gently guided the light closer, until he was hugging it against his chest and that wonderful warm fuzzy feeling was spreading through his entire body. Arthur wondered if this counted as getting a hug from his father, and then immediately decided that the answer was yes. And his new father apparently gave very good hugs.

Arthur stayed with Emrys for several more minutes, until the sun was setting. From there, Emrys told him that he had spent too much time in the mortal realm and couldn't hold his form for much longer without taking time to rest. Panicking, Arthur asked if he would be able to see Emrys again, he couldn't lose his new father so soon after meeting him!

Emrys reassured him that they'd see each other again soon and that he'd be by Arthur's side the whole time, even if Arthur couldn't see him. Comforted by this news, Arthur bid his new father farewell, and the ball of light slowly dissipated.

Arthur then returned to Merlin and his knights, who had a million questions for Arthur. Arthur answered their burning questions as best he could, and they were relieved to see that Arthur was safe and not scarred by the experience of talking to the god of magic.

The next day, they returned to Camelot, and Arthur soon realized that even if he couldn't see Emrys himself, he could certainly the effects that Emrys had on the world around him.

Arthur never fell sick, his rooms were never too hot or too cold, his muscles were never sore from training, his attackers that snuck into the castle never managed to land a hit on him, his kingdom's crops prospered, and a million other things went right in Arthur's life, and for the very first time, Arthur understood.

Magic loved him. And, more importantly, his father loved him.

And it didn't escape other people's notice either. He had told the knights that he had brought with him to the druid camp to not discuss the revelation of his relationship to Emrys, but one knight got drunk at the tavern and told his friend, and someone overheard, and now everyone in the kingdom had heard the news that King Arthur was apparently the son of a god.

The fact that Arthur had secretly prayed for Emrys's help when Gaius reported about a deadly plague in the lower town, only for Emrys to immediately appear again as a ball of light in the middle of a council meeting in front of dozens of witnesses didn't help Arthur keep it a secret either.

(Meanwhile, Merlin hears all of Arthur's prayers for Emrys. He's able to take care of most of Arthur's concerns just as Merlin, but a very powerful/emotional prayer from Arthur actually summons him in his "Emrys" form, leading to some awkward moments, but he makes it work for Arthur's sake.)

On the bright side of Arthur's heritage being revealed, other kingdoms were now much more open to peaceful negotiations and trade deals.

And on one occasion where a very foolish king tried to declare war on Arthur, the enemy king's army only made it a hundred yards of Camelot's forces before the earth itself broke open into a wide chasm that started swallowing the leaders of the enemy army whole. No one was stupid enough to attempt an attack on Camelot after that.

Life goes on like this for about a year, until Arthur catches Merlin using magic for some mundane purpose. Arthur is shocked of course, but magic has been legal for a while now. When he questions Merlin on where he learned magic from, Merlin stammers and says "Well... uh, Emrys..."

Arthur cut Merlin off, yelling because apparently his father was teaching Merlin magic behind his back?! What was that about!

Merlin then decides to take this misunderstanding and roll with it, because there's no way in hell that he's looking Arthur in the eyes and telling him that he's actually Arthur's magical father.

Merlin spins a story about how Emrys had been slowly teaching Merlin magic so Merlin could help Arthur out and always have someone nearby with magic to protect him! Arthur accepts this story, but is secretly a little bit jealous. How come Emrys chose to teach Merlin magic and not his own son?

After Arthur asks Emrys about this, Emrys apologizes to Arthur, saying that he didn't know if Arthur would be interested. He then starts trying to teach Arthur magic (to pretty much no success). To further apologize to Arthur, Emrys gives him a gift! Emrys had apparently heard about how Uther had forbidden Arthur from having a pet as a child despite Arthur begging for one, so Emrys decided to remedy this by giving Arthur a baby dragon to take care of and to train to protect Camelot.

Everyone else is alarmed by this, but Arthur is almost moved to tears because he loves the little dragon so much already!

And this au is already wayyyy too long, so I'll cut it off there! I'm tempted to call this the "Arthur gets catfished into a healthy parental relationship" au lol!

I hope you all enjoyed this au! Sorry about it being longer than usual, but I had a lot that I wanted to write about this au idea! And if you want to see even more of this au, feel free to let me know if you'd like a continuation!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my (very long) ramblings! :D

[areyouwell]

Heliophobia

Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of light. Children or adults with heliophobia experience an extreme aversion to sunlight and may seek darkness in response.

Ch.8

Ch.7, Ch.6, Ch.5.5, Ch.5, Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <–

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Word Count: 15.8K

A/N: bejeezus this was a tough one to get through, crazy how i thought i might be able to fit these last two chapter in one it would have been like 30k words... insane behaviour from me. also i really like writing horror scenes :D

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck @sseleniaa @sadslasher13 @yallgotkik @whyamistillontumbler @maddiedinosaur @bethexo07 @pwpwppeepeoor @y08h

“Let me OUT!” Logan cringed as what he assumed was your foot collided with the oak door, thumping against the abused wood. You’d been at this ever since you’d woken up, throwing various objects at the door only for it to remain sealed shut, only succeeding in creating some kind of shattered glass trap after pelting a vase at the panels. Logan sighed heavily, checking his watch. Three hours. You’d been furiously screaming for three hours, trying every fucking trick in the book to get him or anyone else to open the door. Scott had to hold him back when you pretended to be hurt, whimpering and gasping behind the door as if you’d broken a bone. Only to scream in pure, unbridled rage when you realised it hadn’t worked. 

Devious motherfucker. 

You weren’t the only one either. They had Erin held in another room, only she was taking her isolation much better. It was the safest option whilst Charles worked on restoring each subject’s memories. They’d started with Morgana, and Logan didn’t think he’d ever be able to shake the image of crimson blood leaking from every orifice of that girl’s face as she writhed on the floor from his head. But the shift in personality hadn’t been too great. She was still pretty relaxed and unserious, but now she was a lot quieter. Subdued. Like she’d had the hope beaten out of her. 

It fucking terrified him. How much would you change after Charles restored your memories? Would you still smile the same? Laugh the same? Would you still want to be around him? With him?

Would you still love him?

Logan sighed. It was selfish of him, for that to be his most pressing concern, but he didn’t know what he’d do if, after all this, you never looked at him again. Not in the same way. His heart constricted in his chest, dread pooling in his gut. He needed to entertain these scenarios. He needed to prepare for every eventuality. Even if it broke him apart.

“She still at it?”

He’d been too wrapped up in his head to register the light footsteps from down the hall, curly red hair bouncing at Morgana’s shoulders as she approached with two cups of coffee. She’d cleaned herself up since her ordeal, even adding winged eyeliner on either side of her scarlet eyes. Logan bristled slightly, though he truly didn’t mean it. Instinct had his muscles tensing and his gaze narrowing, the night he lost you playing in his mind’s eye, Morgana’s blank expression as she slowed his heartbeat, her shining irises.

But he made himself relax. She’d proven herself a friend to you, her concern touching a part of him that recognised he could trust her with you. Releasing a breath, Logan nodded in answer to her question. “Yeah… Hasn’t stopped.” He tried in vain to keep the defeat from his voice, gratefully taking the coffee Morgana held out to him. “How’s the other one?”

“Erin? She’s… hollow, I guess. One of our friends we’d left behind, she was kinda seeing him but also kinda not. It was complicated between them…” Morgana slid down the wall to sit on the floor, crossing her legs at the knee. Logan joined her, exhaling as he took the weight off his feet. 

The silence wasn’t exactly comfortable, and Logan was acutely aware of Morgana’s guilt. Having her memories restored, she now knew she played a critical role in your capture, and if it wasn’t for her, none of this would have happened. She opened her mouth to speak, but Logan beat her to it. 

“Don’t. You don’t gotta apologise. You didn’t know what you were doin’.” An apology would mean nothing to him. Sure, she’d aided your capture, but she’d also helped your escape, and monitored your blood pressure on the flight back to the mansion. She’d taken care of you where Logan couldn’t, and he was grateful for that. 

Morgana simply nodded silently, unshed tears shining in her eyes as she tried to smile. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t make remembering any easier though…” she paused, fiddling with the handle of her mug. “Don’t do this to her.”

Logan blinked. “What’dya mean?” He didn’t mean to growl, and felt a little bad when the girl tensed slightly, before taking a deep breath.

“Don’t do this. There’s shit Kreva did that wasn’t documented, Logan. Special assignments, he called them. She took the brunt of it, every fucking time,” Morgana took a breath, angrily wiping at a disobedient tear sliding down her face. Logan’s stomach hollowed. He thought everything was detailed in the file. He thought he knew everything other than the last two months… “She wanted to protect us. Where the rest of us would fight to get away, she’d fight to go. It was her way of making sure we were safe, or I guess, as safe as we could be.” Morgana drew her knees up to her chest, her arms hugging around her shins. 

He couldn’t breathe, the steel lump in his throat clogging his airways, making oxygen rare. Why did you always have to be a fucking martyr? Why did you always have to put yourself last? Did you not know how important you were? How loved you were? Did you not realise how much it fucking hurt to see you in pain? And now he knew he wasn’t the only one, Morgana’s tears solidifying the impact you made on her, too. “What happened?” he asked a little shakily, bracing himself for whatever horrors he was about to hear.

Morgana clenched her jaw, her eyes closing against the nightmarish memories of her own past. “Field experiments. No point in creating an army if you don’t know how effective they’d be, right? I… I only did a few, but they were the shit you’d read in hidden government documents, ya know? Send us to war-torn countries to tear apart their refugee camps and hospitals. Infiltrate rebellions and silence their leaders before the spark of change could fan into a flame. 

“And nobody was better than Phantom. Entire towns crumbled to dust in a night. Politicians were brought to their knees with nothing but a flick of her wrist. She was an instrument of chaos, Logan. Of death. It’s why Kreva fought so fucking hard to get her back. She was a scalpel he used to surgically remove anything he deemed a threat to his advances,” Morgana’s voice trembled slightly, her eyes rising from the ground to meet his. “You get it now? Remembering all that… what she was forced to do, the acts she was forced to perform, it would destroy her.”

Logan didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to think. None of that had been detailed in the file. How many layers of torment existed? How many secrets did he need to uncover to truly understand what you were put through? Was the cost of getting you back greater than the cost of leaving you untouched? If what Morgana said was true, would you even want to remember? You did before, but neither you nor him truly knew the depth of your torture. Fuck. 

“I– I don’t–” He began before Morgana cut him off.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know what to do either. We need her back to stop him. I sure as shit can’t beat Rowan, and neither can Erin. I don’t know everyone who lives here but I’ll bet you’d be hard-pressed to find someone who can. But her? She could. Theoretically…”

“Theoretically? Ya mean they’ve never been pitted against each other?” Logan asked, finding that hard to believe. Kreva put you through hell and back, performed every experiment under the goddamn sun on you, but never thought to match you against your brother? Maybe it was his own dark and twisted mind talking, but that would have been one of the first things he’d do.

“Nah. Even with Naji’s mutation, remnants of those experiments still stayed with us, usually affecting our mood. Pitting us against each other wouldn’t exactly build a good rapport since we were supposed to work together.” Morgana shrugged, her eyes now dry, having pushed past her initial flood of grief. “I just, can your Professor restore partial memories? I dunno, I just– she shouldn’t have to go through everything again. Shouldn’t have to remember everything she was forced to do.”

He could. Charles could. But Logan didn’t know if that would be enough. Even Kreva had said in your file you needed a certain number or specificity of memories to fully wield your mutation. He had no idea which ones they were, and whilst Charles was incredibly powerful, there was no way of him knowing either. But before he could respond, there was another cracking thump against the door and they both snapped their heads to where you’d once again tried to break through. 

Logan couldn’t help his little fond huff, despite the situation. You were as persistent as always, and he could feel your furious determination from the other side of the door. 

“Wow…” he shifted his attention back to Morgana who was looking at him with slight awe. “You really loved her, didn’t you?” 

He swallowed, her use of the past tense grating slightly in his chest. “Still do…” he murmured, dragging his gaze back to where you continued to try and break down the door. 

Morgana shifted next to him, her legs extending back in front of her, crossing at the ankle as she sipped her coffee. “So? Tell me everything. She’s my best friend and I know nothing about you, kinda unfair if you ask me.” She shrugged and Logan cast her a withering look. 

“Yeah, well I didn’t ask ya,” he sighed, before dragging his hands through his hair. He didn’t even know where to start when it came to you. “What’ya wanna know?”

Morgana clapped her hands excitedly, turning completely to face him, and he felt himself die a little on the inside, already regretting his agreement to this. 

“Where’dya meet? How long’ve you guys been together? Who said ‘I love you’ first, that kinda thing.” 

Logan raised a brow. Were these seriously the kinds of questions people wanted to know the answer to? He couldn’t help but think Morgana would get along well with both Marie and Kitty and considering this girl was apparently your best friend, it made a lot of sense. He rubbed at the back of his neck, all of a sudden feeling inadequate. 

“We uh, we met here, been together for somethin’ like eight months, last two not included and uh, I said it first.” His words came out a little jumbled, barely able to look Morgana in the eye as her grin widened.

“How long did it take the two of you to get together after you met?” She asked and Logan couldn’t help snorting a laugh. 

“‘Round three days, I think.”

The red-head choked on her coffee and Logan took a long, slightly smug sip of his own. Not quite as good as the ones you make, but it would do the job.

“Three days?! I thought us lesbians moved fast.” Her eyes were larger than saucers as she chuckled heartily, glancing between him and the door, where you’d finally gone quiet. “Though I guess your bond must have been strong if it could push past Naji’s mutation, she’d still dream about you. Did things just click between you? Just like, that instant connection kinda thing?”

The corners of his lips pulled up as he remembered seeing you for the first time. He’d never fucking admit it to anyone, but he was excited to meet you. He’d heard so damn much about you, never being able to put a face to the name was killing him. He’d sort of had an idea of what you looked like from listening to various conversations, but he wasn’t prepared for you to steal the breath from his damn lungs. You smiled so easily, laughed so brightly. You had a glimmer of wicked mischief in your eye that danced with each teasing comment you quipped. You were utterly mesmerising. Ethereal. Logan knew he was in trouble from the very start. 

“Somethin’ like that, yeah. She called me a son-of-a-bitch when we first met, I sorta stole her teaching position cuz she’d been away for two years and I didn’t think she even existed, to be honest with ya,” He too had noticed you’d gone silent on the other side of the door and he had a strong feeling you were listening. “Rest is history, but there’s very little I wouldn’t do to get her back…” he trailed off, swallowing around the lump reforming in his throat. He missed you. So fucking much. You were right there, on the other side of the door, but you looked at him with such unfamiliarity it broke him apart. You were right fucking there, but you’d never felt so far away. So out of his reach. 

A touch to his shoulder brought him back, Morgana’s hand resting atop his skin as she nodded to the door. “Go,” she mouthed, flicking her eyes back and forth between him and the wood, and he understood what she meant. Draining the remaining coffee from his mug, Logan stood to his feet, sending Morgana a wary glance behind him. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea, to be honest. You’d been so hellbent on escaping, what if this was just another one of your methods to free yourself from the room?

As if reading his mind, Morgana nodded encouragingly. “Her heart rate has settled and her blood pressure isn’t as high. Just go.” She whispered, snatching his mug from where he’d left it on the floor to return to the kitchen. She wasn’t needed for this next part and she knew it. From that one conversation, she seemed to know that he would be able to get through to you. He may be the only one who could. 

Logan took a breath, the metal of the bolt cool against his fingers before he pulled it across, twisting the doorknob and letting himself into an almost completely empty room. Before you’d woken up, Jean and Hank had set up a lighting system that didn’t cast extensive shadows. All the furniture had either been taken out or separated, each shadow on the ground completely isolated. Logan hated it. Hated that these were the lengths they had to go to in order to keep you safe. They were treating you no better than when you were a prisoner. 

It ate at his mind.

The lack of your presence however didn’t alarm him. He wasn’t expecting you to be standing waiting for him, especially if you could hear the conversation beyond the door. Taking a few slow steps into the room, Logan scanned the walls and floor, as if he could sense you in any of the various shadows. His own silhouette crossed through darkness cast by one of the tables, but it wasn’t until his back started to itch unbearably did he know where you were. Smart, he’d give you that, but you didn’t remember doing this to him before. You didn’t know he knew what it felt like. Logan rumbled a chuckle, turning to the light behind him and that itching shifted to his front. 

“You’re not as subtle as ya think, darlin’.” He mused, feeling you shift down his body and bleed through to his isolated shadow on the floor. His expression instantly softened as you rose from the ground, watching his every move warily, eyes flickering with every micromovement, nostrils flaring slightly as you prepared to make a break for it. Logan raised his hands like he’d done so many times before. “‘M’not gonna hurt ya. Never gonna hurt ya, firefly.”

“Stop calling me that.” You hissed, taking a step back from him. You’d finally learned his name, only thanks to eavesdropping on his conversation with Morgan. What the fuck had they done to her to make her so mellow? So willing to accept this. Rage flared in your gut at the thought of her being harmed. “What did you do to her? Morgana. What did you do?”

Logan almost winced at the way you hissed and snarled at him like a cornered animal, furious terror reeking off you in waves. “We helped her remember, like we’re gonna help you,” even if the idea still didn’t sit right with him. “You’re safe here. You both are.” He soothed, watching as you narrowed your eyes at him as if searching for deception. He let you look, knowing you’d find nothing but earnest truth. 

“Okay…” you breathed, though you still didn’t fully trust him. You kept your distance as he took a seat, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his thighs. Questions burned in your mind, but you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to divulge just how clueless you were about what was going on. 

Until it suddenly occurred to you. None of this was real. 

You’d seen reality glitch and phase around you. You watched your flat disappear to nothing, your friends fighting amongst themselves. Maybe there was some truth in Joes’ words. Maybe nothing you’d experienced was real, and maybe this was a part of it. You nodded to yourself, laughing bitterly.

Logan’s brows furrowed in confused concern. “What?”

“You’re not real, are you? You don’t exist.” You bit, gesturing savagely to where he was sitting. Logan hummed a tired, melancholy smile, his eyes sinking to the floor and you blinked in confusion. “What?”

You really were the reflection of his own soul, your brows pinching in exactly the same way, head tilting in the opposite direction to his own. In another time, he’d be feeling the same electric hum he always did in the moments before he kissed you, but the absence of love in your eyes kept him at bay.

“S’just funny… I said almost the exact same thing when we first met.” 

You shook your head furiously as if to clear your mind. “We’ve never met…” You whispered, though your voice faltered. Logan raised his gaze back to you, hope flickering in his chest.

“I don’t think you believe that.” He responded with equal hush, rising from the chair he’d just sat down upon, his hand still braced on the back of it. You shook your head again, eyes screwed shut as if to wall off whatever was going through your mind. 

“I– Even if I didn’t, I don’t remember you. I don’t know who you are.” The way your voice cracked was mirrored in his soul, spiderwebs of fragility snaking across his heart. You were almost pleading with him. With yourself. And to see you so fragile, so fucking scared, it made him want to shred Kreva apart.

“Morgana said you dreamt of me.”

“That’s just a coincidence…”

Logan took a step forward. “I don’t think you believe that either.”

All the tension in your body exploded, the fraying threads of your emotions finally snapping, and your maelstrom of fear and confusion stormed through your mental walls. “I don’t fucking know what I believe! I don’t! You can’t honestly stand there and expect me to believe you. Expect me to believe that the last twenty-two years of my life have been a lie. Because that’s fucking insane and you sound insane!

“But then you look at me… You look at me and I feel missed. And it fucking hurts because I don’t know why. I don’t know why you look at me like that and I don’t know who or what to believe anymore. I don’t know what’s real and I’m really fucking scared.” You took a breath, hot tears burning your eyes as you finally confessed just how utterly petrified you were. You hated feeling vulnerable, even more so in front of people you didn’t know. Or you did know. Or you did know but didn’t remember. Or whatever the truth was.

Every other time Logan had stood to pull you into his embrace, you’d melted into him, willingly accepting his comfort and warmth. So to see you recoil from his sudden movement, flinch at the way he took a hasty step toward you, shining eyes wide with fear, he had to bite down hard on his lip to stop his own overwhelming sense of guilt from springing tears to his own eyes. He took a steadying breath, frantically searching his brain for something, anything, to convince you that this was real. He was real. He knew you were scared. Fuck, he felt your fear as his own, but losing you now simply wasn’t an option.

Then it came to him. 

Slowly, tentatively, Logan extended his hand for you to take. “Eight months ago, you taught me something. I want to show you if you’ll let me.”

He saw you hesitate, eyes flickering from his hand to his face, then back to his hand. This would be it. Irrefutable proof that he was real, and the time he’d shared with you was real. Time ticked by, the clock on the wall mocking him with each rhythmic click until you nodded infinitesimally, slipping your soft palm into his. 

“Okay…” you whispered, and he offered you a small smile. 

“I need you to promise you won’t run.” He slowly brought you closer to him, keeping himself open to your suspicious gaze with each uncertain step. You sucked in a breath, still incredibly unsure.

“Fine. But I can’t promise I won’t try…” your mouth quirked in a half-hearted smirk, and though he could tell it was forced, Logan couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, you were coming back to him, piece by piece, little by little. 

It was like nothing had changed, having you in the kitchen with him, the sun casting a firelike glow through the windows. Like clockwork, he’d chopped, diced, mixed and stirred. The sizzle of browning onions, the scent of searing meat, cooking like this was now simply muscle memory, his hands working with minds of their own. All the while you watched over his shoulder, suspicious recognition creasing your brows as he stripped a few leaves of basil from their stem, dropping them into the bubbling marinara sauce. This was your recipe. You’d know it anywhere. How the fuck did he know it? How did he know the exact timings? The perfect colour for the meat before adding the sauce? And how the fuck did he know about the basil…?

Your heart raced. What if he was telling the truth? How would you even handle that? How would you go about wrapping your head around the fact that the last god knows how many years of your life have been bullshit? He had to be wrong. He had to be lying. For the sake of your own mental wellbeing, this had to be some kind of fucked up prank. Or a set-up. Maybe by that weird fucker who had Naji. 

That was something else you hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell on. The fact that your entire fucking flat simply disappeared. That you hadn’t seen any of your family since Naji tried to invade your mind. 

Naji…

You clenched your jaw. You couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about any of them right now. You didn’t know where they were, how they were. If they were alright if they were safe. If they were alive…

Here you were feeling so fucking scared, but so far none of these people had done anything to try and hurt you. Were the rest of them in similar positions? Was Atlas okay?

Was Rowan…?

Logan spared a glance away from the bubbling sauce to gauge your headspace, his brows pinching when he saw your eyes slightly glazed, lost in a mental spiral. Removing the wooden spoon from the sauce, he held it up to your mouth, snapping you from your dissociated daze. “Here. Recognise it?”

You looked at him slightly warily, watching his hand shift to cup just beneath the spoon, preventing spillages. Logan noticed your hesitation, your trepidation, and understood.  Even though you’d watched every step, you were still mistrusting. He couldn’t blame you. His gaze softened slightly, before bringing the spoon to his own mouth and tasting the food, proving to you there was nothing in it that could harm you. 

As per usual, it was fucking delicious. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself for nailing it so well. The suspicion in your eyes faded slightly, and you nodded in consent as he offered it back to you, and you let him feed you your own recipe.

It was uncanny. 

“How did you…?”

Logan smiled slightly, placing the spoon back into the sauce. “I’d only known you for a day or so before we made this together. Actually, you made it and I just kinda watched.” The way he huffed fondly made your heart stutter and the realisation struck you like a punch to the gut. 

“This was real, wasn’t it…?” You asked quietly, and Logan stopped altogether to take a steadying breath. You were coming around. Finally, you were coming back. Not completely, he’d need Charles for that, but you were getting there. 

“Yeah. It was. I–” he paused, eyes trained solidly on the pan of spaghetti adjacent to the sauce. “It was my fault. I couldn’t keep you safe. I was fuckin’ helpless that night. I let them take you and couldn’t do anythin’ to stop it…” The memory still haunted him. Your bloodstained lips, your eyes fading before you dissolved, the way Kreva fucking laughed. It haunted every waking moment. 

A jolt of electricity bolted up his arm when your hand came to rest atop it. He thought it almost laughable. You comforting him whilst you didn’t even know who you were. Who he was. Managing to tear his eyes from the stove, his gaze met yours, finding only forgiveness. 

“What happened?” You asked quietly, finding warmth in the way his hand settled atop your own. 

“There was a raid here one night. That piece of shit Kreva came lookin’ for ya. Didn’t take you, but left somethin’ behind. You weren’t safe here, so I took you somewhere you were. Stayed there for six months before we had to come back. They ambushed us on the road. I was immobilised, and he took you from me and fuckin’ laughed as he did it.” He hissed, and your hand tightened on his arm. Not out of fear, he realised, but to ground him. To remind him you were there. It shattered and mended his heart at the same time. 

“Why you?” It was a loaded question. You knew that. But you needed confirmation. What you’d suspected from the moment he’d escorted you kicking and screaming into that room. From the moment you woke up. 

Logan drew in a breath. He didn’t know if telling you would make things better or worse. Whether it would help you or break you. He searched your face, finding nothing but gentle curiosity and settled on showing you instead. 

Turning back to the stove, he switched off the heat for both burners, before stepping from your touch and over to the radio. It had been a long time since you two had done this, but he couldn’t think of a better way to answer your question. 

Your head tilted in confusion as you watched him flip through the stations, pausing as if he’d seen a ghost when a song you knew crackled to life. You recognised this tune, but from when or where, you couldn’t tell. Logan turned back to you, his hand extended, vain hope glimmering in his hazel eyes. 

‘Pass me that lovely little gun My dear, my darling one’

With no small degree of hesitation, you slipped your hand into his, holding your breath as you stepped into his soft embrace. It felt familiar, like a smile from an old friend, or a spoken phrase lost to time. It felt nostalgic.

It felt like home. 

‘The cleaners are coming in, one by one You don’t even wanna let them start’

You let your arms snake around his neck, melting as his hands met your waist. Turning your head, you settled against the centre of his chest, his heartbeat steady against your ear as you swayed with him.

“We’ve done this before, haven’t we?”

‘They’re knocking now upon your door They measure the room, they know the score They’re mopping up the butcher’s floor Of your broken little hearts’

Pieces of Logan’s soul started to slowly knit back together, his arms encircling your waist to hold you tight against him, settling his cheek atop your head. 

“Yeah. Long time ago, but yeah.” He answered, his eyes stinging as you nestled closer into the dip between his collar and neck.

‘Forgive us now for what we’ve done It started out as a bit of fun Here, take these before we run away The keys to the gulag’

Your eyes closed involuntarily, basking in the unfamiliar familiarity of his smell. The dreams you had, weren’t dreams at all. They were memories. You realise that now. You were remembering a life you didn’t know you had. You were remembering him the only way you could. 

‘Here comes Frank and poor old Jim They’re gathering ‘round with all my friends We’re older now the light is dim And you are only just beginning’

Logan let himself believe if only for a moment, you remembered him. He let himself sink into the alternate reality where nothing had happened. Where you were simply with him and you were safe. Where your brother wasn’t lost and you weren’t terrified anymore. Where he could hold you without being afraid it could be the last time. Where Jade wasn’t dead but just merely an ex of your past. Where you had complete control of your mutation and weren’t afraid of yourself. 

He let himself breathe you in, your distinct scent wrapping around his mind and heart. Fuck he’d missed you so fucking much.

‘We have the answers to all your fears It’s short, it's simple, it’s crystal clear It’s roundabout and it’s somewhere near Lost amongst our winnings’

“I know why it was you…” You murmured gently, raising your head from the home you’d made. Logan’s hand slid from your waist to cup the side of your neck, keeping you there. 

‘The cleaners have done their job on you They’re hip to it, man, they’re in the groove They’ve hosed you down, you’re good as new And they’re lining up to inspect you’

Logan didn’t dare ask. Didn’t dare prompt you to continue. Could barely whisper to you in fear of his voice cracking, the growing lump in his throat making breathing suddenly much more difficult. 

‘Poor old Jim’s white as a ghost He’s found the answer that we lost We’re weeping now, weeping because There’s nothing we can do to protect you’

Your eyes flickered between his, the sting of unshed tears lining your lashes as you swallowed thickly. “I loved you. Didn’t I?”

O, children Lift up your voice, lift up your voice Children Rejoice, Rejoice

Logan closed his eyes, fighting against the urge to sink to his knees. The past tense speared his heart, but he nodded nonetheless, taking in a shaky breath. “Yeah, you did.”

Your hand skirted from his neck to the side of his face, thumb gently smoothing over his cheekbone. “And you? Did you love me?”

His eyes fluttered open again to find slight, broken hope glittering in your irises, those windows he’d come to love so fucking much. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, bracing his forehead against your own. “I still do.” 

The moment his lips graced your own, you felt the tears in your eyes spill down your cheeks, a lost piece of your heart fixing back into place. You felt whole again, here in his arms, kissing him to the beat of the music.

‘Hey little train, we’re jumping on The train that goes to the kingdom We’re happy, Ma, we’re having fun The train ain’t even left the station Hey little train, wait for me I once was blind but now I see Have you a seat for me Is that such a stretch of the imagination?’

Your breath caught in your throat as you tightened your arms around his neck, his hold around your waist responding in kind. You loved him. No. That didn’t feel right. 

You love him. 

Logan released the leash he had on his emotions, allowing liquid heartache to slide down his cheeks. All the fear, all the doubt, every single thought of losing you washed away as your tongue softly swiped at his lips, and he pulled you home. 

Home.  ‘Hey little train, wait for me Was bound in chains, but now I’m free I’m hanging in there, don’t you see? In this process of elimination Hey little train, we’re jumping on The train that goes to the kingdom We’re happy, Ma, we’re having fun Beyond my wildest expectation’

The music faded and you pulled back a little, eyes fluttering open to find him already gazing at you, longing dancing in his eyes, damp trails lining either side of his face. “What now…?” you queried softly, and Logan sighed slightly. 

“You gotta make a choice. Charles can help you remember everythin’ but… it won’t be easy for ya. I don’t know what you’ve gone through the last two months, but I know everythin’ you went through before. And Morgana filled me in on some shit Kreva didn’t note down…” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “Morgana? Is she alright?” 

Logan nodded, the relief on your face worth all the stars in the sky. “Yeah, she’s fine ‘n safe. Charles already helped her, so she remembers. Erin’s here too but uh… she’s less cooperative.” 

You snickered, and Logan thought he’d have to die before he heard that sound again. “Yeah, sounds like Erin. Is Rowan here? I should probably see him, let him know I’m alright.” 

Your heart dropped with the way Logan’s face fell, dread pooling in your gut. 

“We’re gonna get him back, ‘kay? All of them. We’re gonna get ‘em all back. I promise.” Not even the conviction in his voice, nor the way his hands smoothed your hair, brought you any comfort. 

“Where is he…?” You asked, though utterly terrified to know the answer. 

Logan sucked in a breath, bracing himself. “We’d managed to get you, Morgana, Erin and Rowan out before we had to bail. Kurt can teleport too, but his last trip was Rowan before it became too dangerous. We were already in the air, and we thought we were safe. But Joes came out of nowhere and took him back to Kreva.”

You gasped a sob, attempting to wrench yourself from his grip but he held you fast. “L– let me go! I– I have to get him. I can’t leave him.” You bit between stuttered breaths, panic rising in your throat. “I can’t– I can’t leave him there. He’s my brother. Logan let– let me go!” You fought against his hold and took every weak punch, every struggled pound against his chest.

“I know darlin’, I know.” he hushed as you went limp in his hold, your shoulders shaking with each strangled cry. “Shh, it’s okay. We’re gonna get him back, firefly. I promise,” he whispered into your hair as you fell to pieces in his embrace, sinking to the ground in his arms. He pulled you in tight, bracing you against his chest. “I promise. It’s okay, shh, shh, it’s okay.”

He held you as you cried, having the distinct feeling you weren’t just crying for Rowan. And he was right. Everything had hit you all at once. Your lost life. Your forgotten memories. The lies. So many fucking lies. And the one person who had told you the truth you didn’t fucking remember. 

How long you’d been sitting in his arms, crying into his chest whilst he whispered soothing nothings into your hair, you’d never know. But when your sobs reduced to nothing but hiccups, you raised your head, taking a long, shaky breath. 

Logan’s palms instantly cupped either side of your face, thumbs wiping away the stains of tears from your cheeks before he offered you a small, empathetic smile. You slowly blew out the breath you were holding, brows pinching against another wave of anguish. “You said I had a choice. What was the other option?”

“You stay like this,” he began, his thumbs still smoothing over your cheeks though the tears were long gone now. “We try help you with your mutation and you don’t remember everything you’ve endured. We tell you what you need to know and you start again.” Both options terrified him. There was no easy way forward, and he knew that. He knew you knew that too. 

“So, I’m spared of whatever shit I’ve been through but I won’t remember anything else?” you clarified and he nodded. “I won’t remember you?” Logan nodded again, though his time it was slight. “And you’re okay with that?”

No. He wasn’t. It was agony to think that you wouldn’t remember the last eight months you’d spent with him. “That doesn’t matter here–” He started before you cut him off. 

“It matters to me. I want to remember you, Logan.”

His jaw tensed, eyes lowering to the floor. “I don’t wanna be the reason you’re in pain. I don’t want you to remember for me just to regret it after you remember everythin’ else. Your past wasn’t kind to you, sweetheart.” He couldn’t help the way his chest inflated when your hand softly cupped the side of his bearded jaw, raising his head back to look into your eyes. 

“I’d want to remember anyway. I don’t wanna be some vacant shell who doesn’t know who she is. No matter how fucked up. No matter what I went through, it made me who I was. It made me who you fell in love with. I wanna be her again.” 

“You already are.” He murmured, before capturing your lips in another gentle kiss and you smiled against him. “There isn’t a version of you I won’t love. Whether you remember everythin’ or nothin’,” he whispered against your lips. “I’ll always be right here.”

You rested your brow against his as if you could communicate everything you were feeling through touch alone. “I think we need to go and see Charles.”

You don’t think you’d ever been this nervous. Your heart beat like a freight train in your chest, nails digging into the palms of your hands as you stood outside Charles Xavier’s office alone. Logan had entered before you, telling you to wait whilst he spoke to the headmaster, about what you could only assume. 

Your breath came quick, unsteady. You’d already agreed to get your memories back before Logan even brought it up. You wanted to know who you were, but now you were standing outside Xavier’s office, you weren’t sure you made the right choice. What if restoring your memories made you a completely different person? You didn’t know if they’d been restored before, had they been restored when Logan met you? Is that who he fell in love with? Or were you just as clueless then as you were now? You had too many questions and too few answers to feel calm about what lay ahead of you. 

Your biggest fear was remembering that you agreed with Kreva, and whatever he was trying to do. From what you knew, he was pure fucking evil, running experiments on mutants for whatever sick and twisted gains he got out of it. You didn’t know his end goal, but what if you agreed with him? Surely that was how you wound up there in the first place, no?

Or were you taken? Or sold? You couldn’t even remember your parents. Did you have parents? Were you grown in that fucking facility?

Too many questions.

Your teeth gnawed on your bottom lip as you waited, savouring the slight bite of pain as you peeled a layer of skin into your mouth, sucking the blood from the hurt. This was taking too long. He’d been in there for too long. You didn’t know exactly how long, but it was only supposed to be a quick conversation, not whatever the fuck this was. Having just about enough of waiting, you’d resolved to knock on the door and not wait for an answer before heading in. That was until the door opened slowly, a dark-haired girl poking her head from the room inside. 

“You uh, you can come in. Sorry it took so long…” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. You tilted your head to the side. When the fuck had she arrived? You’d been standing outside this office since Logan went in and you hadn’t seen anyone enter or exit? She opened the door a little wider, revealing five other people, your eyes widened as you saw the familiar auburn curly hair of your best friend. 

“Morgo…” You breathed, before rushing through the door and past the makeshift bed to wrap your arms around her, holding her tight. Morgana reciprocated, her hands braced against your back as she squeezed you in her embrace. 

“Hey, freakshow. How’re you holding up?” She asked, pulling back slightly to give you a once over, making sure you weren’t hurt.

It warmed Logan’s heart to see you interact with your friends like this. The raw relief etched into your features brought him a kind of relief of his own. Morgana was safe, and that had somewhat set you at ease.

“Yeah, ‘m’okay. Upright and not crying.” You shrugged, and Morgana laughed slightly. Clearly, that must have been some kind of inside joke between the two of you. Logan didn’t fight to hide his smile, earning himself a sweet look from Ororo and a look of utter shock from Scott. He rolled his eyes at the latter.

“Sounds about right,” Morgana’s eyes fell to the floor as she thought about what she wanted to say next. “Look… if you’re gonna go ahead with this–”

“I am, Morgo. Why is everyone trying to convince me not to now? Surely the whole point in getting me back was to restore my memories, now you’re all questioning it?” 

Logan could understand why you were so irate. Everything was so fucking confusing right now. It was hard to know what the right thing to do was. But you’d chosen, and he needed to respect that. As did everyone else in the room.

“I get that. I just… you need to prepare yourself. Mine wasn’t exactly pretty and I didn’t go through half the shit you did,” she continued, empathy flooding her crimson eyes. “I just– you went through so fucking much. For our sake. You were… different to how you are now.”

Logan felt the blood drain from his face. “Different how?” he asked lowly, prepared to drag you away and hole up with you somewhere safe. 

Not that it had helped last time.

“Nothing bad! You never worked for Kreva willingly…” she paused, glancing at each mutant in the room. “You were just… scarier if that makes sense. You scared the shit out of us. Not because you did anything! Fuck I’m explaining this so badly…” she sucked in a breath, holding it for a beat before exhaling. “You were real good at sealing away your emotions. Most of the time we wondered if you had any at all. It was always Rowan who was the emotional one. You were just kinda… stony, about the whole thing. The only time you spoke out was when you volunteered yourself for certain things, and that was to protect us. You weren’t a bad person, you were just… yeah. Different.” She finished, leaving the room in stunned silence. 

It didn’t come as too much of a surprise to Logan. You didn’t want to share your emotions at the best of times, at least at the start of your relationship. And knowing you had to do that almost your whole life, not because of lack of option, but because of self-preservation? It burned him.

“Okay… but I wasn’t like, fucked up or anything. Like, I didn’t kill a bunch of people, right?”

The silence was so loud you could hear it echoing against the walls of the room. You refused to let it scare you. You weren’t about to be intimidated out of this. No matter what you’d done in your past, it would stay where it belonged. 

In the fucking past. 

“This is taking too fucking long. Can we just do it?” You grit, folding your arms in irritation. 

“You’re certain this is what you want?” Your head whipped around to who you assumed was Charles Xavier. Honestly, he wasn’t what you were expecting. You were expecting someone a little more intimidating to be the head of the school and the mutant everyone kept banging on about. Not just some older dude in a wheelchair. 

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” You responded curtly, casting a glance at the others around the room. The girl with the brown hair stood close to Logan, her brows pinched in subdued fear. For you or of you, you couldn’t discern. Were you really that scary? 

Charles exhaled a sigh. “Very well then. If you could all leave the room.”

“I’m stayin’.” Logan wasn’t about to leave you alone with this. He’d seen what had happened to Morgana. Watched as she writhed and contorted on the ground, blood streaming from her ears and nose. He wasn’t about to wait in ignorance whilst you were in agonising pain in here. He didn’t think he had it in him. 

“Logan… this procedure is extremely difficult. Any distractions could cause further damage to her subconscious.”

“Then I won’t be distracting.” His tone left no room for argument, and you honestly felt a little better knowing he wasn’t going to leave you. He cast you a slight, encouraging smile and you nodded in gratitude as Charles huffed in defeat.

“Fine. If everyone else could leave the room.” He said pointedly, and Morgana enveloped you in another hug.

“I’ll see ya on the other side, girlie. You’ll be fine. You got your big strong dream man with ya.” She winked and you couldn’t help snorting a laugh, though you could tell by the look in her eye she was terrified for you. That one you could distinguish. 

The woman with white hair placed a hand on your shoulder as Morgana left through the door. Though you couldn’t recall a single time you’d ever met her, she looked at you as if you were an old friend, though said nothing. Her hand squeezed slightly before she too headed out. The man you knew to be Scott strode passed you wordlessly, refusing to even look up at you through his sunglasses.

What the fuck was his problem?

“Kitty?” Charles prompted, and you turned to look to where the girl was staying completely still, her sad eyes still trained on you. You raised a brow, and she winced slightly, before running to pull you into a crushing hug. 

“I don’t care who you are after this. I don’t hate you anymore. It wasn’t your fault, I truly understand that now. I’m so, so sorry for blaming you.” You held your hands up as her hold on you tightened, shooting Logan a panicked glance. 

“Kitty…” he started, and she took a step back from you, angrily wiping at the tears down her cheeks. 

“Yeah, right. Okay. You got this, yeah? Come find me after and we can have tea or something. We got a lot to catch up on…” She gave you one last hug before almost running from the room, closing the door behind her. You watched the closed door with complete confusion. Logan chuckled slightly behind you, placing both hands on either of your shoulders.

“She’s missed ya. We all have.” You leaned back, your head resting against the back of his chest as he pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“You won’t have to for much longer, right?” You looked around Logan to where Charles had taken his place at the head-side of the bed. It looked like some kind of medical bed they’d dragged from a hospital. Did they have one here? You supposed it was useful if things were to go wrong. 

The thought had your gut twisting. Just how wrong could things go…?

“Hey,” Logan caught your attention, a hand guiding your face to look at him. It’s like he had a sixth sense for whenever you started to spiral, noticing the moment your eyes looked even a little distant. “You’re gonna be okay. I’ll be right here, yeah? Not gonna leave ya.” He soothed, slowly wrapping his arms around your shoulders, a broad hand cupping the back of your head as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, savouring the contact.

“Okay…” you breathed, steeling yourself before pushing back from him and turning to Charles. “Let’s just get this over with…”

Charles nodded finitely, patting the surface of the medical bed. “Just lie back and try to relax. I know it’s difficult considering the circumstances, but if you could keep your mind as clear as you can, it will greatly help the process.” 

You sucked in a breath, hopping up onto the bed and swinging your legs over, lying back against the hard surface. They really hadn’t tried to make it particularly comfortable, but you supposed they didn’t have time before they tried this with Morgana.

Morgana.

You concentrated on how she was even after this procedure. She hadn’t all changed that much. Maybe you’d be the same. Maybe you’d still be you but with very little noticeable change. Thinking of her filled you with courage, even more so when Logan took your hand and knelt by your bedside. 

“You ready?” He asked, trying his fucking best not to let his overwhelming concern leak through his voice. You nodded a little shakily as Charles’ hands came to rest on either side of your head.

“See you on the other side.” You smiled weakly, squeezing his hand slightly, before you felt a slight pressure inside your head, growing and pushing, rearranging, and your vision faded to black.

You were falling. Wind whipped your hair and face, arms flailing to catch yourself on something, anything, trying in vain to save yourself from the inevitable landing. Your stomach lurched up into your throat, guts writhing and flipping as you failed to control your descent. Mouth agape in a silent, wrenching scream, you plummeted down, down, down. Flashes of light burned against your closed eyes, colours singing your retinas as you clawed at nothing, deafening voices ringing in your ears, crashes of explosions, and bloodcurdling screams cut short. Your heart raced in your chest, your breathing ragged before everything stopped.

You plunged into an ocean of pitch black, lungs burning as you fought to breathe, only resulting in an intake of water, mocking bubbles rising from your mouth, legs kicking fruitlessly against the anchor wrapped around your feet. Cracking your eyes open, you looked down.

Not an anchor.

A hand.

A shadowy, skeletal hand gripped your ankle, seven more rising from the obsidian depths to grasp at your legs, your waist, scratching against your skin, tearing at your clothes as you struggled to free yourself, writhing and twitching to reach the surface. 

You screamed again, muffled, jagged, noiseless in the muted depths of your own mind. Your vision tunnelled, oxygen scarce as your brain started to shut down. This was it. This was where you died. Trapped in the sea of black, drowned by your own fears.

Until everything stopped. Your feet touched solid ground and the ocean started to drain away around you. After being so weightless, your body felt like lead as you lay on the surface, coughing up inky liquid, your chest heaving with every strangled breath. Taking just a moment to remind yourself you weren’t dead, you roughly swiped your soaking hair from your face, lifting your head to at least try and take a look at your surroundings. But your eyes were met with nothing. Absolutely nothing. You couldn’t tell where the floor ended and the sky began. There was no divide. You were completely lost and for the first time, you found yourself wishing there was some kind of light to guide you. 

As if on command, a flicker of white appeared ahead of you, illuminating the pit of nothingness and granting you the vision you sought. Shakily struggling to your feet, you looked down and froze slightly. What you were standing on wasn’t solid. Or at least, it shouldn’t be. Ripples shifted beneath your feet like water, the light reflecting in irregular patterns with one small step forward. Taking one knee, you pressed your hand against the surface, pulling back as it shifted with your contact, your own reflection looking back at you quizzically. 

Releasing a determined huff, you wiped your wet hand on your soaking t-shirt, looking back to the pulsing light ahead of you, drawing you in. And you let it, your legs moving as if on their own, footsteps echoing in the emptiness. Some kind of chamber, then, if your footsteps bounced back to you. 

Your eyes squinted the closer you got, your hand shielding your face from the light, before it dulled for you, as if understanding. You blinked away the spots behind your eyes, leaning closer to the orb, and tilting your head around it. Images flashed within the surface, faces you knew well, and faces you didn’t recognise. This was you, you realised. This was everything you were missing. Everything you’d been through, everything you didn’t remember was right here in front of you. Who you were. Who you are. 

Reaching up, you lightly tapped the surface of the glow with your finger, watching as it started to pulse faster, light growing more intense before your vision exploded with white and you were thrust forward, the environment around you shifting and changing like ink in a glass of water. 

Falling to your knees, you barely caught yourself before you struck the floor, your hands biting against a cold, steel surface. Shaking your head of a slight fuzziness, you inhaled, almost choking on the thick scent of sweat and fuel. Your heartbeat spiked.

You knew this. 

Fear laced your blood as you raised your head, taking in the all too familiar interior of an aircraft, and your breath froze when your eyes landed upon a lone figure sitting against the wall, her hair bound behind her bowed head, fingers laced together, dressed in all black. 

You knew her. Fuck did you know her. You knew her incredibly well.

Because it was you. 

But it wasn’t you at the same time. You were sitting dangerously still, various knives and blades strapped across your back, your legs, and the sides of your combat boots. A black mask settled over the entirety of your face, two thin slits cut into the metal for you to see out of. You remembered that fucking thing. It stank of blood and fear.

“You’ve got your orders?” 

Your attention shifted to a burly, broad-shouldered man who stood in the doorway between the hold and the cockpit, his arms folded across his chest, a gun strapped across his back, a similar mask concealing his features. But you knew who it was. Of course you did. It was the same motherfucker who’d held Naji by the throat not two days ago. 

Your past stayed silent, simply wringing her hands together as if to resist wrapping them around his throat.

“Not feeling talkative, Subject Eight?” his voice lilted with mocking as he leaned against the doorway in a way that told you this must have been one of the first interactions between them. 

Silently, the shadows in the craft started to shift, tendrils winding up his legs, around his waist and neck, and he only seemed to notice when they started to constrict.

“H-hey, what’re y–”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” your past hissed, slowly rising to her feet, her fingers flexing as darkness extended from her fingertips, sharpening into five long, razor-sharp claws. “I can show you things not even Kreva knows I can do.” With deadly quiet, she stalked across the floor, raising her hand to the man’s face, a claw pointed dangerously close to his eye. Those tendrils around his body tightened further, and you watched as he struggled to draw breath. 

Kreva.

Even hearing his name sent ice through your veins.

“It was– just a joke, Phantom.” He managed through strangled breaths, struggling to free himself as he started to rise from the floor, Phantom taking a step back from him as if to admire her work. 

“Drop zone in– what’s going on here?” another faceless soldier stepped through the door, sounding almost irritated at what he was seeing. Phantom’s head turned to him almost robotically, the shadows dissolving in an instant. 

“Just joking around.” She responded flatly, her voice devoid of all emotion. Was this seriously how you used to be?

“K, what did Doc say about pissing her off?” he asked his companion who had crumpled to the floor, a hand braced around his neck, his breaths strained and harsh. “Fucking idiot. Drop zone in five.” was all the newcomer said, before turning on his heel and marching out, K now scrambling to his feet to follow, muttering something that sounded like ‘crazy mutant bitch’ under his breath as he went. 

You watched as your past sighed, sitting back down heavily and bracing her head in her hands. You knew what she was doing. She was remembering why she was here. Who she was here for. This was one of the missions you’d volunteer for to save them. To save the rest of NLMO from the mental torture you were about to endure. Because that’s all these missions were. Mental, emotional torture. You didn’t want to hurt people. You hated how he made you hurt people. So many innocent lives would suffer because of the things you would do. 

It made you wonder which particular mission this was. 

Red lights flared to life, a deafening siren blaring as the doors to the hold opened and Phantom stood, checking her equipment one last time before another figure appeared through the door, and you felt yourself freeze in place.

Unnaturally skinny, tall, and had a pair of thick, round glasses perched on the end of his crooked nose. Terror stilled your breath as Doctor Kreva walked through the doors, placing two hands on either of Phantom’s shoulders.

She stiffened.

“My darling Eight. I wanted to wish you luck before your mission,” he drawled, relishing in the theatrics. “This should be easy enough for you, but in case you forget, Subject Five is primed and ready if you decide you want to stage another little rebellion.” 

Phantom released a shaky breath, her eyes closing behind her mask. It was your punishment. It was always your punishment. If you acted out, if you even thought about fighting back, they’d torture your brother to tighten your leash and force you to cooperate.

She stayed silent, and Kreva’s hand clawed into her shoulders and you felt the pressure against your own before he released her and took a step back and said nothing else as Phantom opened her eyes and took off at a run towards the open bay door, leaping into the dark sky beyond. 

You followed, copying her exact movements and dissolving into the dark before either of you struck the ground. You had a sneaking suspicion you couldn’t be hurt or killed within a memory, but you also didn’t particularly want to risk it. 

Rising up from the shadows, you took a moment to look around, spotting your past lightly jogging towards a dirt track. Bile rose in your throat. You knew what this mission was. Even in the dead of night, you’d recognise this location anywhere. Breath flew from your lungs as you tried to call out to yourself, beg her to stop before she did what she could never undo. But no sound left your mouth. You were mute, powerless to do nothing but watch and remember as Phantom stood in the centre of the track, statue-esque, silent. 

You followed at a sprint. If you couldn’t stop her verbally, then you’d take her out by force. You could stop this. You could change your past. This didn’t have to happen. Lowering your head, you lunged forward toward her, arms outstretched to tackle her to the floor.

Only, you passed straight through her, landing harshly on the other side of the dirt track. Though you felt no pain. Only the sharp jolt of coming to such a sudden stop. You looked back in terror as headlights shone from ahead, the low hum of engines cut through the silence of the night as four trucks approached your location, each with a silver caduceus painted into the back doors. 

These were medical trucks. Transporting supplies to the refugee hospital a little further away. Your head whipped around. How had you not seen the small, twinkling lights in the middle distance? This was a camp for those who had evacuated the small local town after the airstrike. 

Hundreds of children were taking shelter there. So many innocent lives you were about to snuff out. 

The trucks trundled to a stop, engines stuttering, and you watched as Phantom raised her hands in faux fear, slowly backing out of the cones of light. Four gunmen rushed to the front of the convoy, fingers braced on the triggers of their rifles, though hesitant to shoot. These weren’t soldiers. They hadn’t been trained to kill people. You realised they were more likely fathers, sons, brothers of those who had been injured or killed in the attack. The town was the centre of the uprising, and in one fell swoop, it had been completely obliterated.

These people were just trying to survive. Trying to recover.

Voices rang out in a language you didn’t understand, and you know your past self didn’t understand either. You watched as she bowed her head in submission, backing up a little further until she was completely out of the light. You remembered this. 

You knew what happened next. 

With a flick of her hand, a tendril of shadow whipped out from the darkness, wrapping around the first gunman’s neck and dragging him screaming into the tree line. Gunshots were fired, but none of them met their mark. These people barely knew how to use their weapons, let alone accurately. A jagged spike erupted from the night, spearing another through his spine with a wet squelch and raising him off the ground for the other two to watch, before slamming him back into the dirt, knives of obsidian rising from his own shadow to pierce through his back. 

Make them fear you. That was Kreva’s orders. Make them so terrified the thought of uprising was synonymous with pain and death. With loss and grief. 

With utter, paralysing terror. 

The two cowered back, a stray bullet firing into her shoulder. She took a single step back, the shadows in the gunman’s chest dissolving, leaving him choking in a pool of his own blood. Holy fuck he was still alive. 

You watched with sick awe as darkness wound up her legs to cover the wound, sifting through her skin and mending it flawlessly, leaving nothing but a small spot of blood. With a tilt of her head and a flick of her fingers, two humanoid figures rose from the shadows on either side of the track, stepping fearlessly into the light to flank the two remaining men. Your stomach convulsed as one of the figures disappeared completely into one man through his own silhouette, flinching as his neck snapped back, a black hand exploding up through his mouth, blood raining onto his face as he stood in a horrific exhibition of your forgotten mutation. He slumped to the floor, the shadow figure remaining standing as he twitched before falling completely still. 

The final gunman fell to his knees, muttering quickly and breathlessly and you realised he was praying. Several thorned whisps rose up from his shadow, snaking around his body, across his forehead, before Phantom’s fist started to tighten, and those thorns dug into his skin. Trails of crimson leaked down his face as they continued to constrict, his voice raising as he prayed, though for what or to whom, you didn’t know. Her fist closed completely, and with a sickening crunch of snapping bones, the shadows sectioned his body into pieces, his head split in two. 

Blood soaked into the earth as Phantom stepped back into the light, her eyes trained on the remaining people inside the cars, each too terrified to make any kind of move. Tears trailed down your face as five more figures formed from nothing, almost floating to each truck to silence the screams of the terrified until one remained. He was dragged through the dust by two of her puppets and thrown at her feet face down. Phantom crouched, raising his head with the tip of her finger beneath his chin, obsidian solidifying once again to arm her other hand with five sharp claws, shadows extending beyond her shoulder blades into two broad, black wings. 

She was every part the demon you used to be.

Dragging a razor down the side of his face, the man whimpered, flinching as she drew a line of scarlet over his brow and down his cheek. A mark. She was going to let him live, so there would always be somebody to remember what happened to those who fought back against the powers of the world. 

“Run,” Phantom whispered, and the man scrambled to his feet, slicing his chin against your claw, before taking off at a sprint in the direction he came, his footsteps fading into the deathly silence. She watched him go, flicking her wrist to the figures before they set to work dragging the various trucks into the shadow, tyres dissolving, medical equipment disappearing as if it were never there, lost to the darkness.

Phantom took a breath before her shoulders shook and she sunk to the ground, her conjurations dissolving into nothing as she was left in total darkness, sobs wracking her chest. You felt her anguish as your own, hot tears still leaking from your eyes as you stood. You wanted to tell her this wasn’t her fault. She didn’t have a choice. He made her do this. And if she wasn’t the one here right now, it would be someone else she cared for so fucking much. 

But you couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t do anything but watch as she tried to stifle her sobs, knowing her job wasn’t even close to being done yet. With hiccuping breaths, your past stood to her feet, sparing a glance at the carnage she’d left in her wake before her head turned to the camp in the distance. Her hands balled into fists, and you remembered the way you had to gaslight yourself into continuing. ‘This is the last mission.’ ‘He’ll set you all free after this.’ ‘Rowan will be safe.’ ‘Jade will be safe.’

Jade.

You felt your heart crack as you thought of her. How could you have forgotten about Jade? Why had Kreva erased everything of another one of his own subjects? Clenching your jaw, you shook your head slightly. 

Not now. 

Phantom had already started striding toward the camp, and you found yourself following her, despite the fear pumping through your blood. You didn’t want to remember this. You’d made a mistake. You didn’t want this. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. The things you’d done. The people you’d killed. Was this all you were good for? A weapon for Kreva to use at his disposal? A tool to inflict the same amount of agony as those he would use on you in that fucking room? 

You didn’t want this.

You didn’t want this.

Your surroundings started to stutter and glitch as you started to fight against remembering. Fight against Charles hold in your mind. You couldn’t do this. You were happyer forgetting. Happier not knowing who you were and what you’d done.

The darkness swirled like paint mixed on a palette, colours blending and twisting around you, your hands clawing at either side of your temples, clutching your head tightly as if to withdraw him from your mind. 

You didn’t want this.

You didn’t want this.

You didn’t want this. 

You didn’t want this.

Logan’s heart started to race as Charles grimaced, his hand clutching yours ached from the weight of your tight grip, your nails digging into his skin. His other hand came to brush your hair from your forehead between Charles’ hands on your temples, attempting to settle your switching head, swiping his thumb against your brow.

“It’s okay…” he hushed, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “‘S’okay firefly, you’re okay.” His soothing became more desperate as you started to writhe on the table, your back arching as if you were possessed. “The hell’s going on?” he asked, panic rising in his throat.

“She’s… she’s fighting it.” Charles grit, eyes screwed shut as he attempted to navigate your battling mind. His fingers against your head tensed, applying more pressure to either side of your temples. “I’m losing her.”

“Then get her back!” Logan cried, wild fear beating his heart like a warning drum. He couldn’t lose you. He just got you back for Christ’s sake. He couldn’t lose you again. And he was so damn useless when it came to this stuff. He didn’t know what the fuck to do. If you needed somebody taken out, sure, he’s the guy. But mind shit? Brain shit? He was floundering in the same darkness he imagined you were. 

“What did I say about distractions?” Charles barked curtly in response, his neck flexing as he fought to keep you in his grasp. All Logan could do was continue to smooth your brow, whispering sweet nothings as you continued to twitch and bow. A whip of shadow lanced into his peripheral from the corner of the room, and he was barely able to lunge forward in time to shield Xavier from the spear before it lashed through his head.

Pain shook Logan’s system from his shoulder, blood leaking from where your mutation had pierced him and stuck there, sharp, thorny barbs preventing him from breaking free. “Y’alright?” He asked, voice a little strained as his entire body sang with pulsing agony. You must be remembering your mutation. 

Charles nodded, though his eyes still closed, still focused on taming your hurricane of a mind. 

Logan grit his teeth against the wild thrashing of the vine through his shoulder, his arm tensing as it pulls against his strength in an attempt to drag him back. But moving wasn’t an option right now. He knew the intention was to take out Charles, to stop whatever it was he was doing, and he had to remind himself time and time again that this was for your benefit. This was to help you, no matter how much it shattered his heart to see you in so much pain. Not only was he fighting against your own mutation, but he was fighting his instincts not to tear Xavier away from your head and shred him apart for doing this to you. 

Another vine burst through his other shoulder, droplets of his blood staining your skin as you bucked to free yourself. He cried your name, terror lacing his tone as a third vine plunged into his back and through his chest, whipping slightly before pulling back and tugging.

He felt his weight start to shift, his feet grinding against the wooden floor as he struggled to win over the contest of strength. How was something seemingly made from nothing so fucking strong? Barbed thorns sank deeper into his skin, a grunt of pain flying from his lips, sweat beading his brow. 

Jean burst through the doors, either having heard the commotion or after being called by Charles. 

“Logan?!” She started, horrified by the display, but he waved her off quickly. 

“‘M fine. Help Chuck.” He instructed harshly, though Jean hesitated a moment, her eyes wide. He knew why. Of course he knew why. After what happened three years ago, everybody was so damn afraid of you and what you could do. Fear had her glancing frantically between your possessed form and Charles’ struggle. “Jean, please. I– I can’t lose her again…” he admitted shakily, gritting his teeth against another sharp wave of pain from yet another savage tug of the tendrils in his body. 

It seemed to be the push she needed, scrambling forward and around the foot of the bed to stand by Charles’ side, covering his hands with her own and closing her eyes. 

Agony coursed through his system as his knees buckled, looking down to bare his teeth at another frantic thorn that had burst through the space between his joint and kneecap. He’d take it. Fuck, he’d take anything if he knew he was helping you in some way, even as the shadow wrapped around his leg, tearing at the flesh beneath his jeans. He’d endure it if it meant he’d get you back.

Everything was too loud. Like the centre of a tornado, your memories ripped and tore at your brain, slashing through your consciousness, ripping at your brain. Shards of agony, both physical and mental, had you sinking to the floor, hands clamped over your ears, head buried between your knees. Your hair whipped around your hidden brow, a cacophony of screams and torment bursting your eardrums. There was no happiness here. No comfort. Even memories of your brother were laced with poison. Every image of Jade followed up by the night of her death. Her death was brought by your own fucking hands. You’d seen how you’d torn her apart, desperation to help clouding your senses, seeing her as yet another adversary in your way. In a roaring cloud of shadow, you’d shredded her to nothing, and even as you flayed the skin from her body, she smiled. She told you she loved you.

And you’d left her skeleton in your wake. 

You killed. You maimed. You hurt. You’d caused pain. You’d caused anguish. Heartbreak. Agony. It was as Kreva had said. You were a machine. An instrument devoid of any semblance of humanity. You had to be. The things you’d done… you couldn’t have had an ounce of empathy in your body. 

You’d killed the woman you loved.

And you’d tried to kill the man you love. Memories of that day's training had circled your mind like a carousel of torment. Fighting tooth and nail to claw a path out and escape. Landing blow after blow on the man you’d fallen in love with, every strike flung to kill. 

‘He forgave you.’

You tensed, waiting for the following punch to the gut that was taking far too long to arrive.

‘We forgave you.’

A sob wracked from your chest, your head pressing further into your knees. You just wanted everything to stop. The noise, the damn noise, you wanted everything to end. 

‘You’re not alone anymore.’

Your breath shuddered from your mouth, tears and saliva staining your t-shirt. You knew that voice. Her soft cadence like a balm.

‘I forgive you.’

Slowly, and with no small degree of trepidation, you raised your head. Your lungs froze, eyes stuck on the woman before you. Her pearly smile. Her smooth, bronze skin almost glowed in the lack of light. Black hair cropped short by her ears, bright blond highlights making her look like some kind of alternative angel. 

A gold locket shone brightly at the hollow of her throat, a beacon in the void. You shook slightly as she took a step toward you, taking a knee in front of your curled form. 

“Jade…?” You breathed her name like a question, unsure if this was real or yet another nightmarish scenario in which you’d have to watch her die yet again. But the moment her fingertips grazed your cheek, you found your answer.

“Hey, Shadow.”

Tears flowed freely down your face as you looked into her cerulean eyes, so full of earnest forgiveness you felt yourself shatter. The nickname you hadn’t heard in so long breaking down every part of yourself you’d held together by a thread. You surged forward into her arms, finally finding something you could connect with in the warmth of her embrace. 

“How… how’re you here?” You asked shakily, tears saturating her black shirt a few shades darker before you pulled back, shaking your head in disbelief. “How–”

“I’m a part of you, numbnuts. Of course I’m here.” She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re focussing on the shit Kreva put us through. Focussing on the pain you’ve brought. So now I have to drag your sorry ass through a bunch of happy memories to remind you how much of a rockstar you actually are.” She punched your arm lightly and you laughed a little, the sound split by the lump in your throat. 

“First time I see you in three years and you punch me?” You asked, wiping the tears from your face with the heel of your palm before taking her outstretched hand, your knees groaning at the release of pressure as you stood.

“Yeah well, someone had to slap some sense into you, and since your new boyfriend isn’t here, I guess I’m the next best thing.” She winked, though guilt spiked through your gut. 

“Jade… I–”

“Shadow, I’m dead. If you spent the rest of your life single and sex-less because of me, I’d be so mad at you. Though I wasn’t exactly thrilled when you tried to forget about me, but I get it.” She shrugged, holding your hand in her own. You’d forgotten just how blunt she could be, though it was a breath of fresh air from everyone tiptoeing around you in regard to her death. 

“Can’t argue with that, I guess…” you huffed a small smile, finding a calm sense of contentment simply being here in her presence again. 

“Speaking of your new man, I think he’d be a great place to start.” She grinned at you, waving her hand as the glitching images of your past started to shift and change, settling on a scene you knew extremely well. It wasn’t so long ago you were there, reading in the little window seat of the forest cabin, watching whatever Logan was up to outside. 

The colours of the cabin separated, morphing into the kitchen and lounge, and you watched the ghost of your past self materialise on the sofa, the tartan blanket covering your legs, your nose buried in a copy of Ghosted, the paranormal love story you’d been so hooked on in your first month moving there. Though from the way you were devouring the pages, you realised this must have been your re-read.

Jade raised a brow to you as if to say ‘seriously?’ and you snorted a laugh.

“What? It had a good plot. Sad ending though…”

“‘M’not judging.” Her voice told you anything but.

The occasional crackle of the hearth and swish of flipping pages broke the calm silence before the door to the cabin pushed open and Logan stepped through, toeing off his shoes at the door before closing it swiftly, preventing any further heat from escaping. Your brows furrowed as you tried to remember this specific memory. How had you instantly understood all those times where you’d killed so many and yet this was something you had to strain yourself to recall? Your eyes fell on a small, wrapped package he held in his hands.

What was this?

“Stop thinking so damn hard and just watch.” Jade elbowed you and you shot her a look of faux irritation but acquiesced nonetheless. 

You watched your own ghost look to the door, her eyes lighting up instantly when she saw him, placing her book on the coffee table and rising to lean over the back of the sofa. “Hey Lo’! All done?” She asked, and Logan’s expression softened when he saw her.

Did he really look at you like that?

“Yeah. Should be good for ‘another month or so, weather depending. Come over here a sec, wanna tell you somethin’.” You could see the subdued excitement in his eyes as your past stood from the sofa, draping the blanket over her shoulders, a brow raised in suspicion. 

Logan set the package on the table before his hands cupped the sides of your neck and he stooped to press a lingering kiss to your lips. Your past smiled against him, arms snaking around his neck as he pulled back from you, cheeks pursed as he tried to suppress a grin. 

“What’s up with you?” She asked, eyeing him with amused scepticism. Logan turned her in his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder as she huffed a small laugh. 

“Open it.” He ghosted his lips against her ear, and she leaned back into him, a hand holding his arm around her waist, the other picking up the little, strangely shaped package, brown paper crinkled in odd ways. 

She cast him a glance, Logan nodding back to your hands with encouragement, before you started to slowly tear the paper from whatever was hidden inside. Your heart surged as your memory slowly returned, a fond smile pulling at your lips as you watched your past suck in a soft gasp.

“Logan… this is gorgeous.” 

Paper now discarded, she held a small, delicate pinewood carving of a miniature cabin in her hands, accurate to the exterior of the one you were in right now, log pile and all. Her eyes filled with awe as she turned it gently in her fingers, tracing the artistry with the tip of her thumb. “Is this what you’ve been doing?” She asked, turning to face him, though still looking down at the carving as if she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“Kinda. Been prepping for the weather too, but most of the time, yeah ‘ve been doin’ this. Happy birthday, firefly.” 

Her head snapped up to look at him, confusion etching her features. “Wait, what? I don’t even know my birthday, how did you–”

He silenced her with his lips moving languidly against hers, his hands falling to her hips, thumb tracing smooth circles against the sliver of skin where her hoodie had risen up a little. 

“I have my ways.” He murmured against her, taking the carving from her hand and placing it down on the table before lifting her against him, her legs instinctively locking around his waist. 

“He found it in the file…” You breathed, the memory fading from view to shelter both you and Jade in muted darkness once again. “From the first time he read it. The first page had all my information, including my date of birth. He didn’t tell me because he didn’t want to bring it up, but I realised after we read it together. That was how he knew.” You explained quietly as Jade’s hand settled on your shoulder.

“You know… he’s out there now. Waiting for you. He loves you so much, Shadow. I know because he looks at you the same way I did.” 

That all too familiar lump started to form in your throat, your hand crossing your front to hold your arm. “He does now but… how can I face him, Jade? Knowing what I’ve done, knowing how much pain I’ve caused. I– I killed you… I ripped you apart and I didn’t even remember doing it.”

Jade’s hands cupped the sides of your face, forcing you to look at her even when you begged to look away. “It was an accident. You saw what they were doing and your subconscious snapped. You felt their pain as your own and you couldn’t fight the urge to save them. I’m not about to hold that against you. Nobody should. You never wanted anyone to go through what we did, and the fact you volunteered for every goddamn mission solidifies that.

“You have saved so many. You have helped so many. And you are cared for by so many. And nobody cares for you more than Logan. You’ll face him because you love him. And you’ll forgive yourself because he forgives you.” Her thumb swiped against a tear sliding down your cheek. “Just like I forgive you.”

Her words splintered through your resolve of self-loathing, shattering every conception you had of yourself and leaving room for something new. Something unfamiliar. 

Hope.

“Now c’mon. This isn’t the only thing I wanted to show you. In case you still need convincing, you have an arsenal of memories to prove me right. And there’s nothing I love more than proving myself right.” She grinned widely, and you nodded, words failing you as she waved her hand again, the colours of your mind swirling and settling to the image of the danger room, and she took your hand again as she showed you every forgotten part of yourself. 

Logan steadied his breathing as your body settled back on the table, the thorns in his body retracting and slinking back into the shadows with your newfound calm. Whatever Jean had managed to do was working, his skin itching slightly as it knitted back together. Though he stayed in place out of fear of making things worse. He didn’t know if approaching you would spark up your torment again, so he stayed still, his knee against the floor, watching cautiously. 

He didn’t know how long it had been since you fell unconscious, but his arms ached to hold you again, to have you pressed against his chest, your face buried in the crook of his neck. He fought every urge to move back to your side, knowing that staying was most likely for the best, and gave you the best opportunity of coming back to him. But that didn’t lessen the longing to feel you. 

“So? Thoughts and prayers?” Jade asked the final memory she wanted to show you fading into the background of your mind. You sighed heavily, unable to deny it anymore. You’d done good in your life. Perhaps not quite enough to outweigh the bad, but you were getting there. She’d shown you the memory of when you first met Marie, forced you to watch as you tried so damn hard to convince her. Sure, you may have failed that time, but that didn’t take away from all the other times you’d succeeded. Besides, she’d found Logan not long after, so that had all worked out for the best anyway.

“Yeah, alright, maybe you were right… just maybe,” you admitted reluctantly, much to the girl’s triumphant laugh. 

“Fucking knew it! Ha-HA! Told you I’d convince you. God, I’m so good at this.” She grinned wildly, and you huffed a fond smile. Though you knew this couldn’t last forever, you were so fucking grateful for the time you’d had with her now. The weight of unspoken words between you had lifted from your chest, though another had settled there.

You had to say goodbye. 

“Jade…” you began, only to trail off instantly. Her grin shrank slightly into something of understanding companionship. Taking both your hands in her own, she squeezed slightly.

“Yeah, I know. Can’t last forever, right? Besides, I don’t think we would have lasted very long anyway. Not if tall, dark and broody had waltzed in a couple years later,” you chuckled tearily, knowing she was absolutely right. 

“I was never blind to how you looked at Ororo, by the way.” You shot back lightly, and Jade shrugged in faux innocence.

“What? She’s gorgeous. Sue me.” She winked again, and a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. “Oh, right. I wanted to give you this. Since you chucked your away and everything and I don’t really need it…” her hands fiddled with the clasp of her necklace behind her, and your heart skipped a beat as the locket fell into her hands, before she placed it in yours and closed your fist around it. 

“I can’t take this.” You muttered, searching her face for anything that would tell you she didn’t want you to have it. But your search came up short. 

“Of course you can. What am I gonna do with it? Not sure it’ll come with you when you wake up, but let’s just give it a go, yeah?” Your breath choked as you saw her own eyes well up, and you realised this must be just as hard for her as it was for you. You wished you could have both. You wished you could take her with you.

But she was just a memory. Sure, she was real, but only in here. 

“Okay…” you nodded slightly, and she tilted your head up with her finger beneath your chin.

“Don’t get stuck in the past. You have a family out there waiting for you. You’re not alone anymore,” tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, your soul cracked as she started to fade. “Oh, and when you take on Kreva, kick his balls for me, yeah? Bastard deserves what’s coming for him.” She grinned wickedly, and you nodded again, your voice caught in your throat. “Give ‘em hell, Shadow.” 

Jade punched her fist in the air as her image faded completely, the rest of your surrounding mind fading into white.

With a sharp gasp, your eyes flew open, seeing nothing but light before you blinked a couple of times, your vision returning as you registered both Charles and Jean looking a little worse for wear.

“Welcome back.” Xavier smiled tiredly, and you sucked in a breath. You were back. You were home. You remembered everything, from the start of your torture eighty years ago to the moment you lay on the bed. Steadily, you pushed your arm beneath you to rise into a sit, bracing a hand on your forehead as it to stem the slight headache from remembering over a century of memories. 

“You feeling okay?” Jean asked a little hesitantly, leaning against the back of Charles’ wheelchair. You didn’t remember her being in the room when you started, but you guessed what had happened in your mind had been reflected in the conscious world. 

“Yeah… I’m okay.” You responded, cricking your neck to the side before a voice you didn’t know you needed to hear called your name from your left. 

Tears lined your lashes as you took in his appearance. Spots of blood stained his white singlet, a large rip had torn through the knee of his jeans, a bloom of scarlet had drenched the fibres. You didn’t need to ask what happened, you already knew.

But the way he looked at you, terrified hope dancing in his hazel eyes, you couldn’t stop the way your legs swung from the bed and you all but leapt into his arms, holding him so impossibly tight as if he’d disappear into thin air. 

But he wouldn’t. Because this was real. He was real. And just as Jade as promised, he was waiting for you.

“Logan…” you breathed in his scent, comfort blossoming where it wrapped around your heart. And Logan swore he’d never let go of you, not as his hand braced the back of your head, his other pressed against your spine as he held you. And held you.

“Thought I lost you for a minute there,” he tried to play off just how utterly petrified he was when Charles said he was losing you, but the way you nuzzled closer into his neck told him you saw right through him, and he didn’t hesitate to press his cheek to the top of your head. Wordlessly, Charles nodded to Jean, and the two of them silently decided to leave you in peace, closing the door behind them as they left. 

Logan shifted you so you were cradled completely in his lap, your legs straddling his bended knees as he basked in your presence, in your touch. He had you. You were back.

You were home.

“What happened in there?” He asked, his tone hushed as you pulled back slightly, only far enough to look him in the eye, his hand on the back of your head skirting to rest against the side of your face. 

“I was focussing on the shit I’d done…” you explained quietly, leaning into his palm. “I was so wrapped up in the pain I’d caused I couldn’t think of anything else.” 

Logan rested his brow against your own, empathy pulling at the strings of his heart. He knew that feeling so damn well, and to know you had experienced that exact same thing tugged at his very soul, harder than anything your mutation had done to him earlier.

“How d'ya get out of it?”

Only then did you brain register the warmth of metal in your closed fist, the slight dig of a dainty chain in your soft palm. Removing one of your arms from around his neck, you opened your hand in the space between you, a smile of fond disbelief creasing your brow as you looked down at the gold locket nestled in your palm. You didn’t question how it happened. Didn’t question how she’d somehow made something materialise from nothing but your memory. That wasn’t even part of her mutation. 

It was something that wasn’t meant to be questioned, even as Logan’s head tilted in slight confusion. 

“Ran into an old ex.” you said by means of explanation as recognition dawned on his face. He knew he’d seen that locket before, and gratitude filled his chest. He’d never get to meet Jade, but he hoped she knew, somehow, just how thankful he was for her. “She approves of you, by the way.” You grinned, and Logan wondered how he’d gone even this long without kissing you.

“I’ll have to find a way to thank her, then,” he whispered, before pulling you in and sealing his lips to yours, pouring every ounce of sheer, raw love he had for you into the way his tongue danced with yours, savouring how your arm returned around his neck and held him there, your chest pressed against his own, his heart almost reaching out to yours. 

He had you back. 

You were home.

[kairiscorner]

omds i luvvvvvvv your writing so much 🤭🤭 could i req a earth 42 miles or a hobie brown fic where reader gets bullied for dating miles/hobie (whichever one u pick 🖤) because people think she’s “not good enough for him” because she’s like one of the quiet kids she doesn’t go to like parties and stuff like that she’s always studying and that kinda stuff and miles/hobie finds out when one of his friends confronts him ab it (you can write this however u like!!!!) and he talks w reader and stuff just a bunch of htc!! 🖤 thank you sooooo much

OH DAMN, sure thing anon !! i am just like y/n fr it's just that i don't have bitches 😭😭😭 but i hope u like this rahhh !!!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

they're more than worthy of me. – miles 42 x reader

nobody ever has a perfect life, let alone a perfect love life, but when you were with miles, everything felt just right. he loved you with a love that wasn't overbearing or possessive, he gave you your space when you needed it and supported you from the sidelines in every endeavor you dared to try. you didn't stand out much though, really, you blended in quite well into the background. you were used to not being recognized or acknowledged immediately, and you were fine with it—though you were confused why recently, a few of your classmates were acting a little mean to you.

you never harbored any ill will towards these people—as far as you were concerned, you doubt that more than half of these kids would even remember your name. every time you approached a classmate of yours for a question, they'd immediately walk away the minute you walked over to them, others would ask you in sarcastic voices if you couldn't even do something so simple with a smile that tried to get you thinking they meant no harm when in reality, they wanted you away from them. you couldn't even pretend and think that they were just busy or being realistic—that you should be able to do something as simple as the question to an activity that you were stumped on, but you couldn't—this was because a lot of those classmates of yours adored miles.

they liked miles and having his attention on them, angry if anyone else were to get his attention away from them. before you entered the picture, they were all over him—devoted and loved him like a friend, some had loved him in more than just a friendly way, but none of his friends and admirers in your class took it very kindly when they noticed you and miles getting along a bit too well back then; when you two became a thing, everything just got worse. miles still hangs out with some of these people, though he doesn't consider them his friends—tonight, he'd be attending a party of theirs with ganke, with you opting to stay behind and catch up on school works.

late at night, as you were finishing up your studying session, you got a text from miles, asking you to come down and meet him by your front door. you got up from your chair and walked down to your front door, and there he was, battered and bruised in the face—looking into your eyes with hurting in them. you asked him in worried stammers about what happened to him, who did this to him, if he was even okay. you checked his face all over, and when you saw the backs of his hands, they were reddened and scarred, you couldn't tell if the blood was his or someone else's, because you knew this was no accident that happened to him—he got into a fight, a serious one.

"miles, what happened?" you asked him in a shuddering voice, with miles bringing his red, bloody knuckled hands to your shoulders and wrapped you in his arms. he didn't answer you quite yet as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tightly as his initial response. "how could they not accept that i love you?" he murmured as you gently placed your hands on his back, reciprocating his hug despite your confusion. "i... miles, what?" "ganke told me he heard a bunch of the guys at the party talking shit about you behind my back. i... i confronted them, asked them why they said what they said, but the last thing they wanted to do was cooperate and be honest. so i... i did some things i wasn't proud of. i'm sorry, i'm just so sick of people hurting you all for my sake–you deserve better, mi cielo..." he whispered as you pulled away from him, watching the tears form in his eyes as he frowned up at you amidst the cuts and bruises on his face.

you brought him into your house and sat him down on the couch, hurriedly getting him a first aid kit to treat his wounds. you wrapped his knuckles up in gauze, with him mindlessly following your hands with his gaze–him taking in all the gentle and softness of your touch. "i'm sorry, again, mi vida. i shouldn't... i should've handled it better." miles apologized to you again as you were tying up the gauze on his hand. "love..." you called out to him, placing your hand on top of his with concern and love filling your gaze. "i'm just glad you're alive and well. i wish you didn't have to get hurt or hurt anyone, but... i'm glad you love me enough to defend me like you did even though i wasn't there." you said in a quiet voice, smiling up at him with tears in your own eyes, matching the tears in his as he looked back at you and nodded, his lower lip quivering.

"i'd do it all again, and more, for you–mi cielo. i swear, you... you won't ever shed another tear... because of another person being an asshole to you–i can't not love you, cielo, i can't..." miles murmured with a cracking voice as he got more vulnerable. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close as he sobbed, muttering to you how he'd love you forever, that much would never change–no matter if the multiverse demanded you two cannot be, he'd make a world for just the two of you, even if everyone else would disagree.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @solecitoszn @onginlove @euphovlq @meowmoraless

[silverbladexyz]

HIII I JUST WANTED TO SAY I LOVED UR UNREQUITED LOVE FICS I ATE THOSE UP SO GOOD

this isnt a request btw just some food for thought but how do u think chuuya and yasuko would react if reader came back but they werent exactly. themselves yk? like they got revived but almost like a sentient doll with no memories of the past? do you think they would leave the reader alone or would they try to reconnect with the reader ? again this isnt a request im just curious because sometimes my daydreams take a sudden turn !!! :D

HIII ANON AJSSHHSH AND I LOVE YOU FOR MAKING MY DAY BETTER 🥺🥺💞

And oooh... actually, I have already been thinking about making a bonus part similiar to your idea :) I just haven't had the time and creativeness to write it recently since school is keeping me very busy😭

BUT in response to your question, I think Chuuya might initially keep his distance from the reader first. Partly because he blames himself for their death because he didn't finish his mission sooner, and also partly because he doesn't want to lose them again. It hurts him a lot, but he convinces himself that it's the best decision to make to keep reader safe. However, I can see him secretly keeping a close eye on them so that if they were in danger, he could save them this time and not make the same mistake twice (Chuuya honey it wasn't your fault ajshahs 😭)

Then after bumping into him a few times, you wonder sometimes; why does this ginger-haired man seem so achingly familiar? And why did you feel this pain in your heart whenever you looked at him? Almost as if... he was a past lover you never got to be together with. But you shrug it off; there was no way you could've known such a handsome and rich man in your life, because if you did, you'd be sure to remember him for eternity ashajhhasj

Whilst Yasuko would feel immensely guilty upon seeing you. Even as you tilt your head to innocently inquire what was wrong, she can't bring herself to articulate all the shame, sorrow, and remorse that she felt ever since the day you died. I can see her accidentally forming a sort-of friendship with your revived self, but also keeping you at an arm's length because she thinks that she doesn't deserve to even call you as her friend. Half of her wants to atone for the wrongdoings she committed against you in the past, but the other half wants her to suffer with your unawareness because it's all her fault that you were gone. However, I can totally see her trying to get you and Chuuya together in this life 👀 wingwoman Yasuko for the win

Anyways, I can see both of them keeping their distance while also trying to rekindle those pleasant memories with you. But sooner or later, you'll come to question why they treated you differently from the rest of their friends. And when you confront them about it, maybe then you'll finally learn the painful truth as it all pours out of Yasuko's lips. What you do afterwards is all up to you.

WHEWW sorry for making that kinda angsty :') but hey, at least reader has a chance with Chuuya now. Just that they'll have to break down all those walls he has formed around himself, and finally win his heart that their past self never got the chance to hold. While Yasuko, Dazai, and the PM will be wingmanning the entire way.

I hope this was able to answer your question anon! :D

[geesegooseblog]

Patterns - Connor x autistic!reader (dyscalculia)

A/N: this one is based on a real interaction I had the other day with my best friend at work. I have dyscalculia, which means I can’t add up any equation, no matter how simple they seem - and I figured Connor would be the most comforting character to help [Y/N] out. I also wanted to dip my toes into autistic!reader fics!

Content warning: hyperventilation, for my dyscalculia buddies i did put some numbers in there too but it’s just for show, I wrote them all out in sentence form too to help cause it helps me :D

The break room was cold, but that didn't stop you from standing there, wide eyes fixated on the whiteboard on the wall. You had been asked to tally up some scores on the whiteboard in the break room at your behest, but according to Hank, "you're the only one bothered enough to do it". Little did Hank and the rest of the precinct know, you can't read number patterns.

Everyone in the precinct had been asked to put down suggestions for the Christmas party, with everyone writing down their suggestions in different coloured markers. This was fine, except lots of the other officers had stopped adding suggestions, and had started promoting the ones already written down by writing "+1" next to them in different colours. This would also be fine, except there were too many repetitive numbers stuck next to each other, spanning all across the whiteboard. With your dyscalculia, all it did was create confusion for you. You couldn't decipher these seemingly simple patterns that just seemed to overwhelm you.

So there you stood, effectively white-knuckling the opened marker in your hand as you stared at the numbers like a deer in headlights, praying to god that no one would walk in and see you shaking like a leaf as you stared at the numbers.

"Hello, Detective."

Connor's familiar voice would often bring a calmness to your day, but in this moment it only made you shake more with the fear of being called out. You stayed silent, your back turned to him as you stared at the patterns and your chest rising and falling faster as you tried to calm down.

"It's getting late, [Y/N], usually you'd be out of office by now and I-... is something wrong?"

You slowly turned to face him, your eyes still wide as you looked up at him. He stood as he usually did, his uniform pressed neat and his expression neutral, but his LED blinked yellow as he tilted his head, expressing his gentle, unspoken concern.

"... I need your help." You quietly breathed, your breath hitching as you admit defeat. There was no way you were gonna be able to count these numbers up on your own and you hoped that Connor, of all people, would be the least likely of the staff to spread gossip.

Connor nodded his head once and stepped closer to you, standing at your side and surveying the whiteboard.

"How can I help?" He asked simply, not questioning why.

With a shaky hand, you pointed at the first suggestion.

1. Paintball +2 +1 +1 +1 +1

"... what does that say?" You asked quietly as you looked over at him, hoping that he wouldn't react with venom like so many others have before. You had already prepared for a nasty remark as he opened his mouth.

"Six."

His simple response caught you off guard. You had expected him to laugh in your face or insult you, even though you knew that he wouldn't do that for a second. You nodded your head and slowly scratched the numeral under the equation, taking your time with the single number.

You pointed to the next suggestion, the pattern seemed smaller,"... And that one?"

"Five."

You scratched that number slowly under that equation too.

Your confidence slowly came back as Connor helped you with the numbers. He didn't comment on anything else, only speaking the answers to you with the same gentle tone: "Ten.... Four... Eight... Thirteen..."

You got into a bit of a rhythm with him, your breathing calming slowly as you realised that you didn't have to explain yourself away to him. He seemed content just helping you with this little task, and that's something you're grateful for.

This feeling dissipated quickly when you hit the largest pattern. You felt your breathing begin to hitch again, but Connor answered before you even had a chance to point to it for his cue.

"Twenty-seven."

You nodded your head, and lifted your marker to write the numeral, but found yourself distracted as you stared at the equation. It wasn't like the others, people had started adding numbers higher than 2 to the suggestion, making it way to overwhelming. You had the answer; all you had to do was write "2" and "7" next to each other and move on, but your mind was cast back to your schooling years when you were met with numbers like this, causing your breathing to become rapid as you started to hyperventilate.

"Here, may I?"

Connor's hand wrapped around yours securely as it held the marker, guiding your hand to the space under the numbers. His grip was gentle as he helped you etch out the numbers. You held your breath as you let him guide your hand, helping you etch out the neatest 27 you've ever seen.

"... thank you." You breathed softly, exhaling as he kept your hand held in his.

You noticed the LED flicker from yellow to blue as he looked over at you, his neutral gaze softening as he spoke gently. You knew he’d keep this a secret, but at the same time you knew that he’d give you this same help without question next time.

"It's my pleasure."

[candywraptor]

Hello! I just found your "gentlemen prefer blondes (but I'm not classically trained)" fic and I love it so much. I'm sorry if you've already answered this but how do you guys work on it together? My friend and I tried to write a fic together once a long time ago and it got really messy and we stopped because it was too hard to make it fit together. How do you and @frostbite-fable (sorry I just picked you to send the ask to but it's to both of you) write so your story and characters stay so consistent?

Hello! :DD

Thank you for the ask and it's a very fun question!

First of all, I'm very glad you're enjoying blondes! ^__^ I hope you like the things we have planned for future chapters! I think I've said this every time but I am so excited for the things that are coming.

As for your question. . .I think Frost and I's situation is a little unique in that we were previously married (genuinely) and therefore we are used to working together very closely. I'm not sure I could do a project like this with absolutely anyone else (and with a lot of this content, I'm not sure I'd want to!). That also means I have pretty easy access to her if I have a question or need clarification regarding what to do with Lucifer - which brings me to a point that I think may be one of the biggest reasons we can keep the characters in line:

We have complete and total control of the character we write. I'll use myself as the example. If I am starting a chapter and I need to refer to Lucifer, I ask Frost what he's doing in that moment or has been doing since the events of the previous chapter. If Lucifer is actually present in a scene, then me and Frost are actually in the document working together and writing in real time. Anything Lucifer says or does is Frost, not me - any dialogue is written by the one who writes the character and actions are dictated by them (but not written out - that's the job of the chapter author). If we need them to go in a different direction than where we're headed naturally, we can reconfigure some dialogue or how they approach each other and we figure it out together.

This is possibly the most fun thing on the planet and I live for these sessions.

It is also really challenging. I have to read my previous chapter and remember the headspace Alastor should be in before jumping in to work with Frost in hers. Not writing out how Alastor feels (he's very introspective) before responding means that I'm working a little more blindly than I prefer. When I write Alastor, sometimes his response is different than what I expected so not being able to work through that means I need to be very careful with him in Lucifer chapters. It also means I can't explain why he did or didn't do something that may seem out of place.

And Lucifer is terrible at paying attention. A lot of what you can get out of Alastor in Frost's chapters are subtle but the sad, wet, pathetic man-child doesn't notice shit. And he sure as hell doesn't think about anything, either. It is no mystery why he's a disaster, truly.

Switching perspectives can also be jarring so I tend to start my chapters right after Frost is done with hers so I can transition as smoothly as I possibly can but no matter what there is a gap of time. I think I find that to be the most difficult part - Alastor goes through growth that I didn't get to explore as fully as I wanted since I didn't write it.

So the short answer is that we're very comfortable with one another and we're very involved in each other's chapters. We also worry only about the character we write so it isn't on us to determine what the opposite one might do or think - someone else keeps track of them.

Frost is going to hop in with her own take on everything but I wanted to thank you again for this fun ask! :D

And thank you for reading blondes, too, I'm very happy that you like it! <3

P.S - Fun fact. You would think we favor the character we write but that isn't the case. Lucifer is my favorite of the two and while I absolutely like Alastor, knowing so much about him (this version) and hanging out in his head make him less appealing than Lucifer who I know much, much less about. I shit talk Luci because that is my job but I adore him - to the point of infatuation, really, so take from that what you will.

[shzmluvrs]

Hi! I saw that you write for Jon, Damian and Billy and decided to take this opportunity to request an imagine-

So basically Reader is wonder woman's daughter and her, Jon and Damian are best friends and form some kind of "Mini Trinity". The boys notice she's been busier a lot more lately and find out its because she's dating someone which is where Billy comes in. This part might be a bit ooc so feel free to ignore it! Damian and Jon ask to meet Billy and Damian is putting on his best "Hurt her and I'll go after you" attitude on while Jon is more on the nicer side but still a bit protective. tysm in advance 💞

OMGOMG I love this idea sm you don't even know!! I already know writing this is gonna be fun for me >:D

Spoiler Alert: This was very fun writing for me😼.

~ Star✨️

Batson and The Bat's Son

Prompt: You should've known you wouldn't have been able to hide it for as long as you wanted. You were lucky you had gotten away with it for this long. Of course, it's not that you didn't want to tell your best friends that you had a significant other. It was... just a lot harder when those friends were overprotective guys, and also literally the sons of Superman and Batman. But like, especially Batman...

Timeline: Post S!:FOTG

TW/Content: Damian being...himself⚡️Tension (both good and bad)⚡️Slight bits of angst, maybe??⚡️Billy loving you so so much⚡️Martian Manhunter cameo😱?!?!

Reader: Fem! She/Her/Hers Pronouns! Wonder Woman's Daughter!

Requested By: Anon

Back to the Master List

"Valkyrie."

"Great Hera...!" You gasped at the montoned demand of your superhero name, jumping and whipping around faster than you could put away your glasses. But upon realizing it was only the infamous Boy Wonder, you relaxed. Letting out a huff and bringing the crucial part of your disguise back into view, you wanted nothing more than to land a blow worthy of launching him across the street onto his chest, but didn't, seeing as you had scoldings to deliver and your questions answered immediately first.

"I've told you time and time again not to do that, Damian! You wander this earth like a ghost, and I scare too easy for you to just...appear behind me like that!"

"I'm surprised you were alarmed at all. I would have assumed you'd known that I was with you the whole time."

Your eyes narrowed, and you pointed an accusing finger. "With me..." You mocked. "You mean you were following me."

"There would be no need for me to do such a thing if you weren't vanishing so often."

Your (E/C) eyes rolled, never once leaving the side of the alley wall. You ignored his words, arms crossing over your chest before your head lolled upwards towards the sky.

"I suppose Jon is here as well."

No response, not that you needed one at this point considering the circumstances.

"Listening in right now." You added matter of factly. "You can come down now, I know you're at least a mile away."

As if on cue, a loud booming sound went thundering overhead, like a canon being let off until Superboy himself came landing right in between the two of you. The gravel shook and cracked at his entrance, completely opposite to his awkward and smiley demeanor the moment his blue eyes focused on your pursed lips and knowing glare.

"...Hi."

"Hello, Jon." You greeted flatly before addressing the both of them. "What are you two doing here? Why are you following me?"

"There needn't be any reason for us to do so if you weren't sneaking around. The question now becomes: What are you hiding?"

"Nothing!" You hissed, trying your hardest to ignore the guilt panging in your chest at his words. "I'm not hiding anything, there's nothing to hide. I'm just-"

"-Avoiding us?"

Another tug at your heartstrings, the gleaming look in Jon's eyes hoping that what he had suggested wasn't truth. It surprised you that the boy would even think such a thing, you quickly expressing this with a swift shake of the head and more excuses.

"What? No! No, no, I'm not...avoiding you. Either of you. I'd never do that. You're two of my closest friends ever, I'm just-"

"-So you're hiding something."

"Damian...!" You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose at his second of the same accusation. And yet, you had no words to truly defend yourself. Hell, you couldn't even deny it! You weren't hiding something. You were hiding someone. But, just as quickly as you realized this, you had also come to the conclusion that they didn't have to know that. Your little secret could still remain just that. A secret.

"Yes, yes, I am. . . hiding something."

"Like what?" Jon pushed, already hovering circles around you in optimism. "Like a surprise type of something?!"

"Don't be naive, Jonathan. If that were the case, I would've found out sooner, and I'd know what it is already."

You giggled at their difference in personality, throwing out a quip of your own in hopes to de-escalate the situation.

"Well, know-it-all, it's good thing it's not a surprise something."

"Don't act as though you're off the hook." He responded curtly. "We're still standing in a desolate alleyway in the heart of Metropolis with no reason as to why, other than you're hiding..."

Flicking his wrist in your direction, he prompted a response from you that you were struggling to come up with. Their expecting gaze wasn't helping, and it left you to awkwardly fiddle with the arms of your glasses until you meekly let out a pathetic, "...Something."

"Something like what, though?" Jon egged further, to which Damian shook his head in dismay.

"More like who. 'Two of my closest best friends'?" He quoted words you hadn't even remembered you said, throwing more of his deductions into your face like this was a game of Clue. And goodness knows, at this rate, he was going to win.

"Two out of who, (Y/N)? Not to highlight your lack of social skills, but the only person you have to consider a friend would be Jon."

Jon coughed, rather harshly, in Damian's direction before he sighed and quickly grumbled, "And I as well, I suppose."

"Uh, rude." Was your only comment at first. Though you were not yet ready to admit defeat, a sigh escaped your lips and you came forward with the most honest demeanor you could throw on, looking into the green eyes of Damian behind his mask and then the blue ones of Jon.

"Look, you two are my best friends in this entire realm, okay? Nothing will ever change that, and I swear, there isn't anyone else."

There was a looming silence, and though Jon was satisfied with your expression of care by showing you another smile, Damian had decided on the more...intense route.

"Do you put that on your mother's life?"

"Dude..." Jon sighed. "C'mon..."

And before you could answer, the sound of metal clanking together immediately threw the trio of you into defense. Jon's eyes glowed a neon red while the 'slinth' sound of a katana being ripped from its case was heard, Damian aiming the pointed end towards the loud noise. And before you could even begin to put your mother's Lasso of Truth to good use, your face went deadpanned and you wanted nothing more than to slap the culprit who was struggling to put the two trashcans back in their places.

"Besides him..." You added to your last set of words, lowering your guard and urging the other two boys to do the same.

"Stand down, it's just..."

"Oh! Oh, (Y/N)! I did not at all see you there; Why aren't you in your disguise, wh-? ... Uh..." The man in glowing red and gold slowed both his actions and his words, his excited face shifting into one of confusion at your unexpected company.

"So, is this what you were unwilling to disclose?" Damian further pressed. "If a partnership outside of us was something you were searching for, I'm sure there were more...suitable... members of the league for you to choose from. Better yet, I can make a phone call, and you'd be allowed to choose."

With your heartbeat increasing at the predicament you had so recklessly caught yourself in, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a pit and wither away. But, you had to keep level-headed. If you didn't, things would go very wrong in a matter of seconds. You didn't want that for your best friends, or...

"I'm sure you could, Robin, but I chose him. He's perfectly suitable for me, and shouldn't that be all that matters?"

He cocked a brow, further testing both your patience and your judgment while Jon was simply happy to learn that you've made a new friend.

"When did you guys meet?" He began to hover circles around the man dressed in lightning themed Greek wear. "I don't even think I've seen him around Metropolis before."

"I-...Well, yeah," he went to answer for himself. "That's 'cause all the cool stuff happens right here in Philly. You know... wizards...and dragons and such."

"You fought a dragon?!"

"Yeah, I've fought a dragon!" The super exclaimed enthusiastically. "It was made out of wood and spewed blue fire. It was awesome!"

Both you and Damian gave an eyeroll, his of unamusment while you were quick to state one less cool fact about the whole ordeal.

"And then it killed you."

"Wha-?!" He stopped himself, looking towards you before pointing a finger. "Yeah, but then I got resurrected! So it's all good, everything's good."

"Yeah, by my mother!" You added sternly. "Billy, I know you did what you had to that day, but you seriously need to learn to think things through, because I don't plan on having to resurrect you myself anytime soon."

"Yeah, well- I..." He stopped himself from replying to you, suddenly becoming aware of how casually you dropped his real name and how he wasn't supposed to respond to it. And before he could do anything to correct you, Damian had gone back to his analysis on the situation.

"And that's your reasoning for working with him? Because your mother has forced you into cooperation based upon the fact that she...resurrected him?"

"Well, no, not exactly." You attempted to clear up. "It was more of a meet-cute, and-"

"-Dude, do you even watch the news?" Jon interuppted your words, his smile growing bigger with each passing moment until he himself finally realized who this man was.

"He's one of the new superheroes here! He literally saved the world. Twice."

There was a pause in the air, Damian clearly having not paid any mind to the news (at least, not anything relating to whatever was happening in Philadelphia) and was still unimpressed by just the information being told.

Jon went on, this time in hopes to make it all sound just a little more appealing.

"It's not just him. Like I said, he's in a group. The...Philadelphia Fiascos, something like that."

You couldn't help but try and force back a giggle, knowing just how much the title irked the man standing in front of you as he threw and then dropped his arms against his sides.

"No, that is not our name. It's actually one of the stupidest things I've ever heard. It's definitely not my name. My name is Shazam."

And just like that, with a flash of lightning and a bolt of thunder, "Shazam" was now back to the original name you had given earlier.

"Oh shit-...." He cursed, but you struck an arm out before he could run off or say the word to change back.

"Don't bother." You sighed, taking in the surprised look on Jon's face and the expecting one on Damian's (because lord knows hardly anything surprises him at this point).

"This was all inevitable, I might as well get this over with..."

You inhaled, preparing your words of explanation to the three boys you admired most.

"I know I told you guys that you two are my best friends. You guys have been there for me through my worst and my best, and I'm forever grateful for that. My mother told me it was best that I made new friends. And I did. But... she didn't say anything about not having a boyfriend..."

Jon's eyes nearly widened out of his sockets at your words, Damian's stoic demeanor dropping for a mere split second before he slapped it right back on, hoping you hadn't noticed. But, you did, the shift in his aura already making you more nervous than you already were to introduce your boyfriend.

"You guys... this is Billy Batson."

There was a deafening silence, the four of you staring at one another as if someone was supposed to speak up first. And naturally, this troubled you, but you couldn't help but feel such a strong batch of weight fall from your shoulders.

Relief clouded over you unexpectedly and maybe even too soon, Billy leaning over to you with a hushed tone and a worried glance.

"Are...they supposed to know that?"

Sure, it might not have been your place to suddenly reveal his secret like that, but you figured that maybe it was for the best. Not to mention, he had basically done so on his own inattentive accord. It was just even more of a reason to somehow try and make this trio a quatro. A quartet? A...group of four friends, two of which are dating.

Yeah. Totally not awkward at all.

"Well, yeah, I don't see why not. It's the same as how I know that that's Jon Kent..."

And with a simple gesture over to the raven-haired boy repping his father's symbol of hope on his chest, he gave another wave and this time, an unsure smile towards the dude who he was now supposed to accept as your...boyfriend...

"...'Sup."

You turned towards the other, giving another throw of the hand in hopes to make and keep things seeming causal.

"...And that's Damian Wayne."

And though you hoped he'd at the very least show some form of peace, he kept his glare and stoic nature in tact, staring down Billy as if he were some low-life thug from Gotham City. Someone easy to beat to a pulp, should the boy prove he deserves such a fate in any way, shape, or form.

"(Y/N), how do we even know we can put our trust into this...imbecile? I thought you-"

"-You can trust him, I swear. You trust me, don't you?" You cut in before Damian could even finish his light scoldings. "Besides, he revealed himself to you-"

"-On accident." Billy quickly added, already wishing he hadn't. Wishing he was still in his grown, superhero form. At the very least, his own intimidation tactics would come from confidence rather than cockiness and might even actually work.

"But you did it." You reminded. "He did it. So it's only right that he knows who you are, too, you guys." You informed calmly.

"How did you even meet him? How do I know he can be trusted, (Y/N)?" Damian berated further, Jon nodding in agreement as you huffed in frustration. "This is just as reckless as it is dangerous, especially for you. You need to learn that these types of things can lead to your own downfall."

Before you could even give yourself a chance to think of a response (not even wanting to admit he could possibly be right), Billy had spoken up on your behalf, regardless of his outward appearance.

"Hey, look, I know you're super protective of her and all, I get it... but she can totally take care of herself. I've seen it firsthand. So, relax."

As if the atmosphere couldn't grow any thicker, you felt as though you'd choke on your own shallow breaths, watching the two stare down into each other's matching colored eyes with no intentions to back down. Jon quickly threw you a glance, knowing all too well how Damian tended to "appreciate" these sorts of challenges, and you were the last hope at stopping it, both physically and through your words.

You chose the latter, piping back up with a worthy story to back it all up.

"Like I said... It was a meet-cute."

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"Mother, I don't understand. I've learned all there is to know about this realm. I've read every book you've given me, and I've seen...so many things I wish I hadn't..." You raved on as you practically jogged to keep up with your mother's long strides.

"What more could I possibly have to gain?"

"Young (Y/N)..." She began, stopping abruptly in order to turn and face you.

"My sweet girl..." You looked up at her with curious eyes, still unsure as to why you two were left wandering the streets of a busy Philidelphia. Deep in the heart, the sea of people wading around your cloaked figures. Shooting you weird glances, but minding their business nonetheless while your mother cupped your chin.

"There is always something more to learn. Much to know, something else to discover. And, if you must take my word, the journey is worth it."

"But-"

"In time, you will see. But, for now, I have a rather important lesson for you today."

You were left befuddled at this bit of information, your brows knitting together as you wracked your brain for what the lesson could possibly be.

"I have completed all of my training. And I wasn't assigned a mission..."

"No, but you're not exactly ready for your tournament on the island, either." She teased with a smirk, leaving you to do sort of a 'har-har' motion with your head at the implication of your later-to-be-done trials on Themyscira. An island you had yet to go back to, having been born there and no memories after that once Diana had made the decision to bring you back to the land mortal man resided on.

"Today is a lesson of cooperation. Teamwork."

"Oh, mother..." You sighed frivolously. "I know how to work with a team. I-"

"I am aware of your allyship with Clark and Bruce's sons. I admire it, actually. You three are a lot more cohesive than what I could ever be with their stubborn fathers. But, I assumed as such. You guys became friends before your superhero duties came into play."

You contemplated such words, and supposed they were in truth. Your mother, Bruce, and Clark seemed to act more like coworkers rather than friends. Unlike the relationship you had with their sons, having bonded and forming a close-knit pact amongst the three of yourselves before having even thought of doing superhero work together.

And when you did, it made your chemistry on the battlefield a lot better; improved your guy's intuitions for the others' next move. Things got done with smoothness, a quick and ease that other teams seemed to have lacked.

"But," your mother continued, intersecting your own thoughts. "I need to know you are capable of such skill and cohesiveness when your partner isn't someone you know. That you will succeed, even if it means working with a foreign accomplice."

"Someone new?" You predicted, suddenly growing unsure of whatever was to come. And rightfully so, the ground suddenly beginning to shake while the crowds around stopped in their hurried tracks. Their gazes went upwards, yours following until the source of such powerful steps came into view.

"Great Hera..."

Your words came out no louder than a whisper, (E/C) eyes widening at the sight of the largest, reptile-like creature you had ever seen. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, your blood running cold the moment you had a clear view to recognize the beast.

The father of monsters, leaving all to see within their complete rights to run away in terror. A creature you had only heard about in legends and folklore, and only the kind your mother had told you as a young girl...

"That's... That's Typhon..." Again, your words dwindled away into fearful breaths, taking steps back hoping to fall into your mother's embrace as though it would somehow help the overall situation. And suddenly, it had grown worse, not able to feel the woman behind you and only realizing she was gone when she called down to you from the air.

"Be strong, my child!" She encouraged with an unchanged smile, flying away as if she was really going to...

Oh...oh no...

"Mom! Mom, no, you can't leave! You- You're literally Wonder Woman, you can not just leave me to die!!"

"You will not die, for you are the one who chooses what perishes and what remains in your wake. My Valkyrie. . ." She reminded you, ending it with a charm you didn't dare forget. "With or without accomplice, you are so much more capable than you know!"

Whatever lesson this was, it was insane. But, surely, your own mother wouldn't actually put you in a position where you wouldn't return, right?

You took in a breath.

'Trust yourself, (Y/N).' You reminded yourself. Just like that, you disregarded your cloak, revealing your superhero outfit/armor and drew your weapon. For now, you were all that stood between this city, and this ravenous-

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"Are you done?"

Your voice cut out, your expressive hands and dramatic tone faltering while your eyes shifted towards Damian in disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

"This...really isn't giving me meet-cute vibes..." Jon next to speak as Billy gave a huff and an eye roll at the sudden interruption.

"Well, maybe if you'd let her finish-"

"I don't recall asking you."

Another pause, Billy giving Damian a knowing look to combat what seemed to be a permanent glare etched onto his face.

"I didn't know I needed your permission?"

"In the presence of those more advanced than you are, I suggest you learn to wait until it's given."

Billy's eye narrowed as he started up another petty bicker, Jon remaining unaware of the upcoming fight brewing between the two. He was busy working out his own thoughts...

"I'm still trying to figure out what he has to do with any of this..."

"More than you." Billy scoffed, now stuck in a defensive attitude.

"Enough! I will go on and you two will listen, or so help me, you will get no explanation at all and you're just going to have to deal with the fact that I have a boyfriend and like it."

And finally, there was quiet once more. A subduing, accepting one that left you satisfied, nodding a little in accomplishment before continuing on.

"Thank you. Now, as I was saying..."

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

You were all that stood between the city, the rest of the world, and this ravenous, ghastly beast. As a result, the creature did nothing more than throw you around and cause more destruction. You were thanking your lucky stars there had been no casualties, and that you yourself were still even alive. But that could change at any moment following after a simple mistake.

One lazy swing of your weapon or step of your foot. One moment of being at the wrong place at the wrong-

"Watch out...!!"

And before you could even process the end of a sharply filed wing coming your direction in hopes to inpale you, a flash of red, white, and gold blurred your vision and suddenly, you were no longer in the path of a painful death. Just left very stunned and confused while the only thing that could leave your lips was a shocked, "Barry, what are you-?!"

"Who?"

Your mouth snapped shut, looking up and staring into eyes that certainly didn't belong to the Flash, even though he was the only person you knew who sported such a combination of colors and possessed super speed. And yet, here you were, being proven wrong and gently set down back onto the pavement.

"N-...Nobody, nevermind."

"Are you okay? You seem...not cut out for this."

This statement caught you off guard. Sure, you were most definitely shaken up and could hardly plan your next course of action without a wave of fear striking up your spine, but...

Not cut out for this?

"That is most certainly the complete opposite of the case, I'll have you know. I do this for a living."

The man gave you a look up and down, a mix of amusement and unsureness crossing his face as he spoke quickly.

"I dunno, you were kinda... If that were true, I don't think I would've had to come in and save you."

"Save me?" You couldn't help but repeat this, truly flabbergasted at such a claim. "Save me?"

"Also, is there a way you can tell me why you're dressed like a Wonder Woman wannabe?" He asked with no true intent to offend, but the more he talked, the deeper the hole he was digging himself would grow.

"'Cause not to harsh your flow or anything, but the original is always better, and I should know because I met her, but you don't wanna hear about that, I mean..."

"I am not-!" You cut into your own loud protest, fighting the urge to discredit any comparison of your person to your mother. You were your own person, no matter the affiliations you carried, and you were quick to make such information known once a breath left your throat.

"My name is Valkyrie, last born of Themyscira and granddaughter of Zeus. And I'll have you know I'd never step down from my duties of protecting the innocent lives of this land, for I am the one who chooses who lives and and who dies. And that beast...?"

You pointed upwards in the relative direction of where it had last been, but the chaos surrounding was enough for both of you to know neither of your jobs were done.

"It goes down. Tonight."

The super in front of you nodded as if he wanted to believe everything you just said but truly couldn't. A little chuckle even slipped through his lips, the man slowly backing away with intent to return to the fight as well.

"Okay, you seem very focused on all of the right things, but since you're obviously way younger than me which makes you more inexperienced, I think I should at least show you how it's done first so you don't get yourself hurt. Alright? Okay."

And with that, he flew off, the short breeze of wind that was left from his takeoff blowing your (H/C) hair back while you stared up in perturbance.

"...Imbecile." You cursed.

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"You were arrogant, which made you stupid. And you lacked precision and grace, as well as the ability to properly communicate." You further informed, recalling the way Billy had just as much of a hard time defeating Typhon as you had. If anything, with no training experience, even worse. And when you tried to join in on the fight, he simply remained in your way, and neither of you had ever gotten anywhere for the longest.

"Is that all? Because I'm starting to get a subliminal message that we aren't as girlfriend-and-boyfriend as I thought..." Billy sighed, his face shifting into a light shade of red at your truthful words and thoughts.

He wanted to say how he didn't recall things to have gone that badly at all, but you spoke up before he could.

"No. That isn't all. But, to spare you, I'd like to point out how though you have no mental training whatsoever..."

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"...I must admit, you are...very powerful. And your magic isn't like any kind I've seen before." You uttered through heavy breaths, having spent what felt like hours just to defeat such a cruel animal.

"Are you...a god?"

There was a delay, the man trying to work out your question in a way that would make the most sense.

"Demi-God, actually, technically... It's really complicated to explain. My brother would be way better at telling you all about it."

Your head tilted, clearly confused by his words, which only caused him to try and clear it up further.

"Short version, I got my powers from a wizard who said I was like, pure of heart...wise- No, strong in spirit...or whatever, something like that. And ever since, I've been saving the world with my family, which is super cool, by the way."

"And this wizard..." You inquired. "Was he a god?"

"Uhm...no." he answered, again, with a vagueness that caused you to tilt your head once more. It made his heart leap and brought on the sudden urge to tell you more.

"But you know, one thing we do have in common, the whole Zeus thing...that's totally what the 'Z' in my name stands for."

You nodded, accepting the oddly placed information for what it was before sticking out a hand for him to shake. He did so with an eagerness that almost reminded you of Jon.

"Well, regardless of all previously stated about you, your wizard was correct. Your heart was in the right place the entire time, and I admire that. It's...been a pleasure working with you..."

He smiled, hurrying to provide you with a name. Quickly and unthinking, as usual...

"Shazam."

A flash of lighting made you pull away instantly, the thunderous bolt causing you to jump back into a defensive position until the smoke cleared.

What was revealed to you was a teenage boy around your age and looking up at you with wide, emerald green eyes. His brown hair was disheveled, and he practically stumbled over his own two feet in attempts to get away as fast as possible.

"Wait-!" You stopped him, grabbing at his wrist to which he swiftly tried to pull away from. The close proximity only made you more aware of the height difference, yourself maybe only a couple inches taller, which merely added to the fact that he was wildly intimidated by you as a whole. He wanted nothing to do with the consequences of you finding out his biggest secret, especially after all of the things he had said laced in a tone of condescension.

He continued to pull, but you didn't budge. Instead, you calmed, lowering your tone into a whisper that ceased his movements.

"Wait..." You gave a firm nod of solidarity. Filled with compassion, and you were quick to add a smile. "Your secret is safe with me. You have my word."

"Thank you..." He breathed, watching as you slowly released the hold on his wrist. His touch lingered, your fingertips the last to meet before the both of you were now left standing, face to face before you registered the entirety of the situation. Replaying your mother's words...

'I need to know you are capable of such skill and cohesiveness when your partner isn't someone you know. That you will succeed, even if it means working with a foreign accomplice.'

"You were the lesson."

"...What?"

The confusion splayed across his face amused you, a giggle escaping your lips that made his chest fill to the brim with butterflies while you explained.

"Do you recall the Zeus thing you pointed out earlier?"

He nodded.

"Well," you began, straightening yourself out. "My name is Valkyrie, last born of Themyscira, granddaughter of Zeus."

"Yeah, I...caught that the first ti-"

"Also known as (Y/N)," You cut in. "Daughter of this land's beloved Wonder Woman."

"Oh... Oh, my god...!" He gasped, a mixture of amazement and shock in his tone while you gave another laugh and a nod.

"You have revealed yourself to me, so-"

"Accidentally."

"But you did it." You swiftly reminded. "And I have revealed myself to you. So, it's nice to officially meet you..."

"Billy!" He filled in the blank as fast as he could, soon realizing you may want a full name before awkwardly adding the rest.

"Batson...Billy Batson."

"Hm." You hummed in satisfaction, your smile never once faltering as you gave a nod. "I...look forward to working with you in the future. Preferably, not under the circumstances of another lesson."

You pointed upwards, the large body of "Typhon" shape-shifting into one Martian Manhunter, staring at the two of you from high above with Wonder Woman at his side, the two giving nods of content.

"Holy moly..."

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"Oh! I see now...! Meet-cute." Jon expressed as Damian gave a disappointed shake of the head.

"Careless." He huffed, to which you ignored in favor of only responding to Jon's positivity rather than Damian's negativity.

"Exactly. And then, a few weeks later, I took him out for a date."

"Which I think went pretty well, by the way." Billy added, smoothly lacing his hand with yours (completely ignoring Damian and his icy glare as well).

"Mmm..." You hummed with a tone that begged to differ, leaving it clear you and Billy remembered your first date very differently...

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"Wait, so...you really can't fly?"

Though the question may have seemed jarring, the bustling crowds of the inner city masked such an odd remark. It left you two free to converse on topics of both citizen and superhero life. Or whatever else came to mind.

Hopefully, all that came to mind, seeing as your time together was limited for the day.

"Unfortunately, no. Just because I am my mother's daughter doesn't mean I inherited all of her capabilities."

Billy shrugged, making sure to keep pace with you in order to actually be by your side. And, as a courtesy tip from Mary, keep himself on the outside towards the road and yourself inwards. 'Just in case' she had said, which confused him. Not that he doubted, though.

"I guess so. I just thought that maybe since you're her kid-"

"-I'm not a carbon copy, Billy. I am my own person, you know." You informed.

"Yes, of course, I totally get that! But, if you can't fly, and if you're not immortal...what powers do you have?"

Such a question left you to think for a moment, your lips pursing up until you were finally left to shrug yourself.

"Well, I wouldn't really consider them powers. Unlike your abilities, I-..."

A gasp cut into your own words, your mood boosting upwards just like your eyes towards the pink neon sign above.

"Oh my gosh, oh my-! I've heard of this, I've always been so curious to try, but it seems there's never any time..."

At first, Billy was confused by your jolt and burst of excitement, staring at you in muddled amusement.

"Huh?"

You grabbed him by the chin, between your thumb and index finger, and forced his gaze up where yours had been. Quickly, he now understood and looked back down at you in bewilderment.

"You've...really never had ice cream before?"

"Well, with my training and all, on top of my studies and hero duties, I never really...get the chance to do much of anything considered downtime." You explained before giving an obnoxious sigh.

"Hell, if only you knew what I went through just to convince my mother to let me out today. And don't even get me started on my best friends..."

"Your...best friends?" Billy inquired, nudging you with his shoulder in a teasing manner. "Thought I was your best friend."

"Yeah, you are." You admitted, casually nudging him back, which struck up bashful giggles between the two of you. "But, in a different way. They are...my first friends. My first superhero friends, normal person friends...my first best friends. So, naturally, getting past them is like attempting to look a gorgon right in the eyes and not turning to stone."

Though he hadn't caught onto the last bit, the analogy something foreign to him, he'd had come up with a plan instantly to both woo you and to simply give you the experience you deserved.

"Tell you what, (N/N)..." He began, using a nickname he had come up with a short time ago.

"Hm?" You chirped in response, eager for his solution as your walk continued on as a gentle and slow stroll.

"I'll take you for a fly around the city. Watch the sunset, maybe grab some food on the way; Ice cream for dessert..."

You face grew hot just thinking about such an ordeal. It was ideally romantic, and it did end with you getting the treat you had always wanted to try.

"It'd be killing two birds with one stone."

His own weird analogy had caught you off guard, taking in a dramatic inhale as a hand flew to your heart.

"Billy...!" You almost scolded. "I do not wish to kill any birds! Especially not with a stone, that's terrible."

He couldn't help but laugh, though you were having trouble finding the humor in his statement as he pulled you into him, an arm around your shoulder providing a cheesy type of comfort you couldn't help but fall for as well.

"It's...an expression. Just means getting two things done at once." He explained cooly, only for you to pout.

"It's a terrible expression."

He huffed, sending you a deadpanned expression.

"Do you agree to the idea or not, (Y/N)?"

You pretended to think about the offer, though you had already come up with your answer. You just didn't want to come off as too desperate, especially considering this was your first date. Sure, you asked (er, more or less commanded) him out, but that didn't mean it wasn't any less nerve-wracking. And natrually, your mother was not the best of help, pushing and pulling the whole situation.

Encouraging you to show strength and pursue the love that pleased you. But, as instinct to protect their child, as any living creature would, often told you no when it actually came down to you wanting to spend time with Billy.

But, you were here now, and that was all that mattered. Matter of fact, you swiftly realized how silly it would be to hold back on maybe a once in a lifetime experience.

"...I suppose." You finally hummed, to Billy's excitement before you quickly added, "And...don't call me (Y/N)."

"What?"

"To you, I am (N/N)." You instructed, having grown fond of whatever little nickname or petname he had given you. "It has been decided upon."

"Okay, (N/N)."

It wasn't long before you two had wandered into a more desolate area, being thorough that the coast was clear before a bolt of lightning was struck and a pair of glasses came flying off.

"Are you...sure this is safe?" You began to hesitate. No, you weren't afraid of heights. But you were definitely afraid of falling, and while of course you trusted whenever Jon would carry you or when your own mother would, Billy had proven himself a tad more...

Distracted? Nuanced? Impetuous? All could be applicable, really...

"Yeah, of course I'm sure! It'll be fun, c'mon, no stress." He urged, beckoning you over with the wave of his hand while now in his superhero alter ego.

"Do you..." You didn't want what you were about to ask sound silly. You were practically indestructible. Falling should be the last thing you were worried about. And yet...

"I'll fly low through the city; and I won't even go my top speed, I guarantee no building crashes." He further pushed with a hyped up grin.

"Do you promise not to drop me?" You rushed, almost embarrassed with how meekly it seemed to come out. Not like you at all, but Billy couldn't help but find it endearing as he walked forward and placed a comforting palm on your shoulder.

"(N/N), only an idiot would drop someone like you."

And that was all the more convincing you needed, ignoring the butterflies in your chest while he lifted you into his arms in bridal fashion.

He made sure to handle you with the utmost care, keeping his promise having never once even let you so much as wobble or slip from his grasp. And, his plans had proven worthy of the hype, the city lights a whole different view to behold while flying so low. Even as the sun began to set, you had no intentions of returning home anytime soon, regardless of curfew. You couldn't leave now!

Not while you and Billy (now back to himself) sat atop of one of the highest points in the city. Cooped up together on one of the bridge towers while he taught you the proper way to eat a philly cheesteak.

"No, no," He scolded, teasing and light as you let your sandwich rest in your lap, giggling at his example. "You gotta' do it like this. The experience isn't true if you don't get cheese like... literally all over your face, watch..."

And he did just that, leaving you to shake your head as laughter escaped your lips.

"Billy, that seems...unnecessarily messy."

"Well, fine then...!" He challenged, his mouth still full as he gestured towards you. "Lemme' see you try and take a bite without getting cheese or toppings anywhere else."

"Bil-"

"Go on."

You huffed, pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes in his direction before giving in to his petty challenge.

. . .

"It's good, right?"

"It's messy, like I stated..." Your words could've very well been chokes if you weren't careful, your mouth just as full of food as Billy's once was while dots of cheese lined your lips.

"Well, then, congratulations. You did it right. You've made me proud." He announced smugly, handing you an honorary napkin to clean your face with.

Once you had managed to swallow it all down, you couldn't help but admit you were left satisfied.

"How...often are cheesteaks sold?"

He chuckled at your question, now left genuinely proud that he had seemed to have successfully transferred his food addiction onto you.

"Don't worry, we'll get you more another time."

He reached to the side of himself, picking up two small cups filled with the icy treat you had even forgotten you'd gushed about. It left you happily surprised once again as he handed you your own.

"For now, I think we should start you off with the most basic flavor. It's really sweet and really cold, so I didn't wanna overwhelm you."

"What flavor is it?" You were practically bouncing with glee, anticipating its taste before he could even tell you what it was. He didn't even get to get the word out before you had shoveled a bite into your mouth.

"French Vanilla."

"Oh...my gods..." You sighed, savoring the taste on your tongue as the ice cream began to melt in your mouth.

"I'll get more of this sooner as well, right?" You hoped aloud, Billy nodding but encouraging you to "slow down" before you ended up with a "brain freeze", whatever that was.

Speaking of freeze, the chill that passed by was certainly enough to calm you down from the ice cream, your arms littering in goosebumps as the two of you stared deep into the sunset. It casted a glow against the horizon on the water, and though it was growing more and more chilly by the moment, you couldn't help but comment on the beauty of it all.

Billy was swift to agree, not that he was actually looking at the sunset. Too busy admiring your features, the way your hair fell, and how your eyes practically sparkled. The tone of your skin making any scars and beauty marks pop against it with the glow of the sun highlighting it all in gold.

He had to refrain from grazing a hand against your arm, his brain starting to convince him that he was dreaming or that you were an angel of some sort, unreal until he could prove otherwise. And, without really thinking about it, he made moves to do so.

"(Y/N)?"

"Hm?"

"Are...you cold?"

You thought about it, even though you didn't really have to. Not to mention, there was a feeling rising in your chest. A feeling that you knew where this was going, and of course, you wanted nothing more than to experience that.

"Yeah, kinda."

And in a solid flow of motion, the boy beside you had taken off his flannel to drape it across your own figure. Eager to pull you closer into him, practically on his lap as you two watched the remainder of the setting sun. Well, tried to, your focus still shifting towards Billy every now and again as if you had to make sure, convince yourself, that he was still there.

"You're gonna miss it..." He pointed slightly in the direction of the golden ball of light, his voice practically a whisper when he saw you look back at him for what seemed like the miilonth time. Even so, he couldn't help but smile, one matching your own as you shrugged.

"That's okay..." Was your only response before you felt yourself leaning in closer. It was like you were metal, and he was a magnet, not that he seemed to mind before mimicking your actions. You-

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

"Oh my god, are you telling us about your first kiss? I don't wanna hear about that..." Jon brushed away the mere thoughts of that with a wave of his hand, his actions only humoring you and Billy as you swayed up against him.

"Yes, the first of many~."

"Stop, oh my god...!"

"You're so immature." You chided at the boy's revulsion. "Can't you just be happy for me?"

"I don't blame him." Damian insisted. "I, too, find it hard to be content when this 'relationship' was merely established a few months prior. Especially without us knowing."

"Well, maybe this is exactly why I didn't want to tell you." You spat before gesturing towards both boys. "Either of you. You don't get it."

"Oh, I understand. Trust me." Damian scoffed at your vehemence. "I understand that if you expect me to allow this to continue any further, I must see whether or not he's actually capable of keeping you safe. And that he can be proven worthy of, not only your time and efforts, but to be trusted as well."

And when his green eyes met with Billy's, it was clear he had no tolerance for the boy whatsoever. If anything, it was almost like there was a purposeful intent laced within his words to gain some sort of a rise out of him. One which he got, expectingly.

"Um, allowed?" Billy repeated, not at all liking the idea of being told what to do by anyone other than his parents, much less another boy his age. And chiefly when it came down to you.

"First of all-"

"Oh my gods, here we go..." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose once more in complete detest for more of the bickering about to occur. It seemed as though no one was willing to listen to your words, Jon able to sense this when his eyes left your dejected figure and took notice of the forming tension between Damian and Billy.

"You guys...!" Jon cut in, putting out the spark where it began. "Maybe...she's right. Maybe this could be a good thing?"

"Of course I'm right!" You gasped the minute Jon had come to your defense. "Look, I understand that you guys just want to protect me, but... I can't learn things if I don't ever make mistakes. My own mistakes." You emphasized, knowing how quickly Damian liked to swoop in to take over your own, potentially dangerous, missions. And how often Jon managed to talk you out of different situations with charisma you sometimes lacked.

"And, to be fully honest, I don't believe Billy to be a mistake." You added, looking him in the eyes and then turning back towards them. "I really, really want this, okay? And I don't care if you guys don't trust him or... even like him. I like him. I trust him. And that's it."

A final act of silence fell between the lot of you, Damian trying his best and failing at avoiding your pleading (E/C) eyes. Failing, so, he gave up.

More accurately, gave in.

"Very well." He huffed, never one to fully let his guard down, but doing the best he could to provide some sense of acquiesce.

"But, should there be any trace of even a minor slip up," he worked in his own version of compromise, sporting a final death glare in Billy's direction. "I will kill him."

"Oh, please..." Was his only reaction to the threat which left you to step in with your own word of reassurance.

"He won't."

"If he knows what's good for him."

"He won't kill you, he's just saying that..." Jon laughed. It was awkward, a sign of attempted lightheartedness before he went on.

"But really, please don't do anything that will make us regret trusting you. I think it'd be cool to have a new guy around!"

And naturally, Billy was a lot more inclined to warm up to Jon, giving him a nod of respect. It all finally left you able to wind down, knowing that though it wasn't today's plans or intentions, you had successfully integrated your best friends with your boyfriend.

A group unlike any other.

One you... still couldn't come up with a name for.

AAAAH I feel like this took me way longer than it should've, or that maybe the story itself is too long, but, either way, I hope you liked it!! I can't wait to figure out a face claim for Jon and Damian, btw, that's still sumn I gotta do.

~ Star✨️

Back to the Master List

[canis-dentem]

okay hi I’m the anon that you wrote a long response to, thank you so much it helped a lot<33 if you don’t mind I’m gonna just send my thoughts to you I guess? Idk writing things out helps me understand my thoughts better. shrug

your bit about not labeling your alterhumanity as spiritual or psychological actually connected with what I feel a lot esp the “i have it, and that's what matters to me.”

I was trying to read up on the different types but i didn’t connect with either to a HUGE extent but also. my connection to some things does feel so like. ohg its like. its such an existent thing; it’s hard to explain. just pure happiness and contentment and hhhfffffh (insert happy noises) when I’m in the woods or the rain or thinking about/drawing certain animals. And if anything it’s more spiritual but it’s also just there and it’s whatever it needs to be

“in my opinion, the biggest question is not "am i really a therian?" and instead, is, "does it make sense/bring me joy/fulfill me to connect myself to an animal?" if it does, move on from there.”

^okay this was so amazing to read because. this is stuff I’d tell people about other aspects of identity in general. like in the past when a friend has came up and said “I don’t know if I am this thing because I don’t know how well I meet criteria” I’ve said “does it make you happy? then go for it” But I wasn’t holding myself to that/letting myself consider that I might be somewhat something, and I didn’t realize that till now?? thank you so much actually wow (happy squinty eyes at you)

I’m still gonna be figuring things out but right now I’m kinda the vibe of “might be a little bit otherhearted, it seems similar to what I feel, but whatever I am, it’s something, and it’s mine, and that’s pretty cool.”

wow this was another long one, hope you don’t mind lol, thank you so so so much I really appreciate you taking time to answer my first ask! hope you’re having a wonderful existence<333

i don't mind at all!! im so glad my advice was able to help you :D i think alongside the like. identity bit, a lot of times people in this community don't tend to treat alterhumanity like any other label people can identify with--but that's what it is, you know? maybe someone identifies as a therian for a really long time and then realizes they were wrong, but that identity made them happy while they had it. i think that's more important than "am i really xyz???"

alterhumanity should be about exploring ourselves and using otherkinning as a way to do that. a way to learn about ourselves and find joy in something. if it's bringing you stress, it's not worth it. i hope you find what makes you happy, anon!!! go forth and be excited about the experience of finding yourself. <3

(and again--my askbox is open for any more "thinking out loud" or self-discovery talk!!)

[wetcatspellcaster]

Hiya! I hope this doesn't bring up shitty memories, but I thought you mentioned before how Rosalie was in a sense inspired by your experience playing a lawful good character in your home game, and having to deal with players who did not share a similar morality.

I recently had a similar experience in my homegame and it felt very Good, but also not very Fun to go against your party like that. Like I enjoy roleplaying a good character (being able to solve problems by being kind is my power fantasy) but I dont want to take away from the fun my friends could be having.

So I wanted to ask if you dealt/deal with that too? And if yes, how did/do you go about it?

I hope this isnt too weird a question, but feel free to ignore if it is! In any case, good luck with your goings-on, Dr. Wetcat!

hey anon! it's not a bother, that D&D game was an awful experience but it taught me so much about playing and DMing that I've carried forward so I'm always happy to share my thoughts :)

I guess my first thought is, how big was the disagreement and how much does it mean to you? If it was a roleplayed argument that got resolved, you're fine. negotiations in character are part of the fun, you might just have social anxiety (i say this, from experience). if it is something more impactful than that, e.g a decision that will play out longer term, or that split the party, or that resulted in your character going off on their own, or it impacted other people's stories, then I got you. maybe you wanna talk about it.

The second question is: was the upset from you, or your character? Bleed is a very real thing, but if you found it more stressful for your character than for you, and you were able to chill with your friends afterwards no issue, you're probably ok. if you yourself are feeling sad/stressed/upset about it after as *you*, that's also my red flag from personal experience. maybe you wanna talk about it.

And that's my biggest piece of advice: communicate. Either with your DM, or your other players, or both! idk the nature of your game, but my problem game was filled with LARPers who refused to have above-the-table conversation - it created this really intense atmosphere where stuff just happened and it all happened in character, and it couldn't be negotiated or discussed out of character, which created some incredibly high, insane stakes. if you're having a disagreement in character, it's totally ok to come out of the 'scene' and say 'is this ok?'. this can diffuse the situation, both stressful in-the-moment wise as it gives people a break from the 'drama', and it'll also help you get a read of the situation, and for people to give their honest, non-roleplayed answers.

talk about it afterwards as well. check in with everyone to see how they feel, if this is something out of the ordinary for your game. Some people really like disagreement and may even be like 'this could be a really good plot line/piece of development for your/my character', they might tell you there was no real issue whatsoever and you were just having a social anxiety, or they might be honest and say 'i don't want to do that again'. As someone with RSD, i get that the second answer might feel a little rubbish at the time, but in the end, it's all useful info right? It tells you how to act in the moment :) it gives you better parameters on how to act going forward :)

Remember that D&D is NOT a first person game, it's a third person game - it's the story of the party, not just you or any other single player. At points, you may have to go with the consensus. The question to ask at these points is: "...is this still fun for me?" Like yes, you might not be getting your way, but is 'their' way actively unpleasant for you to be involved in, or is it ok to concede the point? If the answer is 'yeah, it's fine', you're all gucci. I personally left my problem game, bc I realised the consensus was not for me, and I decided that was on me and my responsibility - I couldn't spend my weekends trying to change people's minds about how to have fun, but I *could* remove myself from a situation I was not personally enjoying.

having some disagreement is ok. not everyone is going to agree 100% of the time. but if you're feeling weird about it, I hope this advice helps!!

[aimportantdragoncollector]

Hazel BUT i have my dad's eyes and with time his became slightly green and the same will probably happen to me.

Yes.

Depends on what's changed but Im open to that discussion

Tracking devices? Yes. Cameras? Not all the time and the child must be aware of them and be explained the reasons why.

Yes, more time to write books with moral bankrupt MC and criticisms about out society.

I'm open to adoption. Aditional bio kids? I'm having at max 2 bio kids but I don't exactly have a limit when it comes to adi«opted kids (must be below 7).

I'm a great cook. I know mostly western gastronomy but I'd absolutely love to learn more about oriental dishes. Im also a great baker.

I prefer to finish them but that's bc I need to know the ending to be able to rewrite a version I like in my fanfic.

While ties are attractive I prefer men with them. But button-up shirts without ties? That's the most attractive shit ever.

Demon King obviously, DK has motivations and a more compelling story.

no.

Absolutely!

I loooove his quirk and which to study it. The rest? Meh. He's too loud and I don't trust anyone that smiles so much. He obviously is hiding something.

Attractive but I prefer curly and messy hair. White is preferable

B

2

B

B but is that didn't result A

D, Im their parent not their friends and I must do what's best for them e

A B and C are al perfect and I cant choose.

C

Hot

C

I look great in black

B

I get his cause. Why shouldn't he be allowed to have other people's quirks when he can use them so much better? Not to mention how attractive he is. I find him interesting and smart and I'd love to have debated with him about morality and the best ways to dispose of a body. Not to mention I think his relationships with other people are goals.

I wont send this as an anon bc Im not ashamed of my love for him. <3 Hope he considers me.

Like you, All for One’s eyes changed color after he started using his quirk. He’s optimistic that might mean you have a powerful ability, so you have immediately grabbed his interest.

However, you did miss the point on the cameras question—if the child knows there are cameras, then they are too easy to remove. All for One learned that the hard way with his brother.

It’s great that you’re open to adopting a large brood because All for One has kidnapped many children over the years. Kurogiri and Dr. Garaki are threatening to strike if he unloads more cute white-haired orphans on them. He tried to give one to Gigantomachia, but there was a tragedy where Machia did not look before he stepped.

Baking skills are a strong plus. All for One likes maximum sugar.

All for One will concede the need to finish stories in the service of writing fanfiction with better endings. By the way, he’s sending you a link to his Archive of Our Own page with 200+ Demon King wins fanfictions. Lengthy and flattering comments on his stories will greatly aid your courtship. He has also enclosed (1) picture of himself with a button-up shirt and no tie.

Your commitment to trash-talking All Might has put you ahead of the competition! Your AFO simping was even more appreciated. Most of all, you impressed All for One with your willingness to de-anon. For that boldness, he’s giving you a chance. He’ll pick you up for your first date on Monday. No need to tell him where you live, he already knows.

AFO simps, he’s still taking answers to the questionnaire. Hurry up before he has the exclusivity talk with an (un)lucky simp. Please be careful @bookwalmartav because he may attempt to steal your quirk regardless of how well the date goes. I take no responsibility for my creation if this ends with you getting vaulted.

[ashplayz]

'Bored' Jasper x reader angst pt 2..

'Redo''

Okay so I made that fanfiction some time ago and while it did get a good amount of attention nobody had asked for a pt 2 originally I was thinking about making a pt 2 with a happy ending but since I thought I didn't have a reason to I never did. But I finally did get someone asking for a pt 2 so here you go (now it might not be as good as the first one but I really tried it's not very long though)

(It switches from she/you)

Narrator:

So you're probably wondering what happened after the break up between y/n and Jasper all that time ago, so this is that story..

Jasper had nowhere to go after y/n kicked her out, she could have gone back to her cave but she knew she couldn't necessarily better herself in a cave, now she knew even if she did improve on herself y/n probably wouldn't take her back. But she desperately wanted her to know she was trying to improve for her.. So she went to the place that had been preaching about improving herself this whole time. Now she did face some uneasiness from a few of the gems, while they were happy she wanted to change, they knew they had a long difficult road ahead of them. Even more difficult with Steven off to other things. But they sure all hell were gonna try their best.

Amethyst was the person that had the most uneasiness towards Jasper. She was suspicious of her, but she happened to be the first person Jasper told about the reason why she wanted to improve herself, or well the person she wanted to improve for. Jasper didn't like talking about it, but when she did talk about it she wasn't afraid to admit she screwed up. She knew that as much as she wished she could take it back she knew she couldn't. Now Jasper said just being friends with y/n would be enough for her but that didn't mean she wouldn't have some certain people trying to play matchmaker (if Garnet is unfused I definitely see ruby and sapphire getting in on this.)

Jasper insisted she could let go of y/n in the romantic scene but she would never imagine that the next time she'd see her it would tear apart her heart all over again..

Jasper was finally improving a great deal at little home school and Amethyst thought she was ready to talk to y/n so she went off to find her.

You were hesitant to allow yourself to be happy about the fact she had improved for you, because it all felt as if it was in vain, but nonetheless you followed amethyst to little home school, hoping to tie up some loose ends with Jasper. When you two saw each other there were so many feelings going on at once, Jasper clearly seemed like she had changed. Y/n definitely had.. She wasn't that same girl that Jasper once knew to go to war over the last soda.. No she was sheltered and distant.. Maybe even cold but Jasper couldn't blame her after all she had put her through. Despite being guarded, y/n still offered Jasper her full support in bettering herself. Even rendering her to a therapist, it wasn't really like they could talk like old times but it was enough for them to be able to smile in each other's presence.

But there were still some people eager to get you two back together instead of just letting things be. But there attempts at 'parent trapping' the two of you only led to problems because well.. Y/n was engaged..

(Cliff hanger!-

No. Not really, I really don't feel like writing a pt 3 so..)

Jasper felt a mix of emotions upon this news she was hurt. But happy for her.. Yet.. She couldn't help but notice you didn't seem happy.. (I recently watched the d&d movie so Jasper basically asks y/n the same thing holga asked her ex husband.) "Do they make you happy? Happier than I did..?" Jasper asked, if the answer to that was yes, she'd support you.. "They don't cause me any pain.." Was all y/n said in response.. But.. You still didn't answer the question..

Now Jasper's smart, but a bit impulsive so if she thought for a second that you were unhappy in your new relationship she was quick to jump on board any plans to stop it. And this was NOT so she could get you to herself. You deserved happiness and if you wouldn't fight for your happiness she would.

(Narrator: so this basically turns into 'speak now' from Taylor swift) Jasper teamed up with a few gems in hopes to crash the wedding. Amethyst led this group of wedding crashers and garnet who was often unfused to teach at little home school, so Ruby and sapphire. Peridot didn't really know what was happening but she wanted to help. Bismuth was there to offer support if needed. Some of the other gems (like pearl and lapis) thought it was a bad idea but we're still there to back them up if anything went south.

*Insert speak now from Taylor Swift*

(I really don't have the experience writing for a wedding crashing)

So the wedding was crashed, and it didn't exactly have the ending in the song. But the truth about the lack of feeling between you and your 'fiance' came out. So as you were pulled away from the wedding, you couldn't help but feel grateful. But at this point it really didn't feel like you and Jasper would ever be back in a romantic relationship with each other but maybe you were wrong about that too..

Because within a year or so you two are getting ready for a 'redo' date and of course y'all had your band of wedding crashers to help you get ready.

Jasper was nervous. It had been so long since the original breakup and she knew she'd never forgive herself for screwing up again. Y/n was nervous too.. While she was ready to open her heart to Jasper again she still had these walls up, although she was confident that Jasper would break through those walls given time..

As Jasper aproched y/n she awkwardly extended y/n's favorite type of flower. To which y/n chuckled.. "You remembered.." Y/n remnmaked while sniffing the flower.. "Of course" Jasper replied, giving her a nervous smile (god she's a dork) "Look.. I know I hurt you.. And that it will take time before things will truly be fixed but I won't stop fighting for us" Jasper said, taking her free hand. Y/n smiled "I know.." She replied..

…

"Hopefully I won't be 'bored' anymore."

"You won't be."

…

The end..

(Wish it was longer but this is all I've got, hopefully those who liked 'bored' will enjoy this) (please do not ask for a pt 3 🥲)

[nimmenstjer]

Hallo!

Quick question for you! I’m slowly learning Dutch and I wanted to ask if you have any advice for a beginner.

I’m a bit ashamed to ask but I really want to improve and I figured that asking to someone who is Dutch might be helpful.

Also probably by the end of the year I’ll be able to visit a friend that is moving near Utrecht. Do you think I should try to interact a bit in Dutch or people will get upset if I can’t pronounce/catch the answer very well? (I’m autistic and sometimes I have some issues in elaborating what I hear even in my own language)

I hope I haven’t annoyed you too much with my questions

I think the best kind of advice would be from someone who is also learning dutch, since they would run into the same difficulties.

The one thing I can think of is figure out how vowels sound so you can get the pronounciation more easily when reading something, wich is pretty consistent in dutch, so that might be helpful.

A thing you might at first have trouble with spelling 's ochtends, 's avonds, and suchlike, but that's the same rules as how "you're" is short for "you are", it's just that "des" is an old fashioned version of "de", and basically only survives in contractions like that.

Something you might run into is also the difference between "de" and "het". Both of them are basically "the", with "het" ocasionally leaning towards "it", but in casual use, getting it wrong a couple of times isn't a disaster or anything. Pretty sure this one is mostly an experience thing, so don't sweat it too much.

A lot of compound words have a connecting "e" such as pancake being pronounced "Pannekoek" but spelled "Pannenkoek". This is because in casual word use we went the opposite way of the Germans, and rather than not always pronouncing the "e" en words that end in "-en", the dutch don't always pronounce the "n". As such, at the time this spelling rule was established, it was assumed to be lazy/casual language usage, and the "correct" spelling had an "n" put in, despite the fact that the "e" in a lot of compound words is more of an ease-of-pronounciation add-on than anything else.

I don't think anyone would be upset, your biggest issue with trying to talk in dutch will be that a lot of people know a decent amount of english and will switch to that mid conversation once they figure out that's the language you're better in.

Hey, fellow autistic! Anyway, you have the perfect excuse built in right there! Not that you really need an excuse, but "Oh, I didn't quite catch that, could you repeat that?" and similar is a pretty useful response in those cases, and if you're surrounded by people with varying levels of accent or you straight up don't know the entire language, it's even more effective.

What I remember from school, in grammar, the trickiest bit was figuring out wether a verb ended in a d or a t or a dt, which I basically always just always did by comparing it to "Ik loop, jij loopt, wij lopen, ik heb gelopen/I walk, you walk, we walk, we have walked" rather than figure out what kofschip/fokschaap stands for (some grammar trick about letters I never bothered to figure out, as my method worked most of the time)

A fun fact: There is something called "steenkolen engels", literally "coal english", wich is basically what happens when english speaking crews have to work together with dutch speaking harbour workers, and they figure out that if you pronounce things with the other guys accent and add some of the words you do know, you can mostly figure things out together. So it's basically dutch with an english accent and some english words.

second fun fact: if you ever become fluent in dutch, as an english speaking person, your accent has a chance of sounding frisian, even if you don't speak frisian at all. This is because frisian and english are closely related.

third fun fact: You are not annoying. People who try to learn and improve in anything are a delight. You are, therefore, a delight.

A joke (paarden is dutch for horses. Fokken is dutch for breeding a type of animal) A guy was at a party talking to an englishman when he was asked what he did for a living. "Oh, I fok horses." "Pardon?" "Yes, paarden."

[destinyc1020]

Which scene is your fav and which scene shocked you the most?

I'll put my answers to your questions below the "keep reading" mark, just in case some still haven't seen all 3 episodes and don't like spoilers... 😊

Can I just say though?? It's really weird watching Tom play someone so shy, reticent, and down on his luck, because irl he's anything BUT that lol.... 😅 Idk...it's like messing w/my mind or something lol. 🥴 Is it just me?? Anyway....My responses below...

It's very hard to say which scene is my favorite since there are a lot of scenes (and subtle nuances) that I'm enjoying so far.

Personally?? I've been feeling so sorry for Danny during this whole entire 3-episode viewing, so I'm actually enjoying watching him in the scenes where he's actually hanging out with his friends, liking a girl, smiling, and just having some FUN, since it seems like so much of his life has been so traumatizing and full of drama. 😔 I actually enjoy those scenes the most tbh. I just feel so sad for Danny!!!😩😭

I think this is the series very smart way in not portraying him (or people with DID) into monsters. Just a guess.... His scenes with Rya and Arianna are really nice. I enjoy their interactions the most. :) I like how Rya tries to dig deep and get him to come to the realizations on his own. I hope they change scenery a bit during the series and don't just have them sitting across from each other in that cell the entire time though lol. The scene that shocked me the MOST was that "suck my d*ck" scene.... I was CRINGING!! I was like... "NO! TOM don't do itttttt!!!!" 😩😭

I honestly don't know if I would have been able to UNSEE that image in my brain, so I'm SO glad they didn't go through with that scene lol. 😅🤣 Ugh!!! 😩

That scene was shocking....and honestly, totally unnecessary if you ask me. But I think it might be providing some "clues". 👀

[murderoushagthesequel]

Hey hag!

2, 21, 23, 27 and any other one you'd like to answer for the writers asks <3

Have a nice day, lovely 😊

ah! hi lynne :)

sorry these answers didn't make much sense lol but thanks for sending the ask!! i was really hoping to get some questions from that list of prompts :D i love talking about writing.

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

It depends! I started just writing as I went but I'm trying to start planning now so I can make sure to keep track of all my ideas and everything. Currently, icotfs is mostly planned out but not fully, r&rfaf isn't planned out at all, and there are a couple other bts wips that are in the midst of being planned. I'm not the best at remembering to plan but it does make writing a lot easier!

21. Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

Absolutely, but it would have to be somebody I know really well :). I'm not great on compromising with my ideas. I want to be able to get all my ideas across and i'm very picky about my wording so I need the freedom to do that. Also, writing is very personal to me and I'm not totally comfortable just working on that with everybody, especially due to my insecurities.

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

Ahhhh. Idk :sob:. I think, don't rush yourself. Find ways to motivate yourself, and if that means giving yourself a deadline, that's great! Initially, having the deadlines for icotfs helped me get chapters out but then I didn't meet that deadline and it felt like shit. Don't underestimate yourself either! I'm going to be completely honest, I didn't think I was any good at writing at all until I started posting my writing on ao3. Turns out, I'm pretty good! And I've written some things I'm really proud of! Don't feel pressured to write anything. If you have something you really wanted to write but never did, that's okay! Also!!! Use synonym websites, they're a lifesaver. I think that's all the advise I have to give that I actually follow myself lol. Just find a way to write that makes you comfortable and happy! I have all my google docs set up, music to listen to, and I enjoy sending quotes and snippets to my friends to keep me motivated :).

27. What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

Hm. I don't know, it really depends on what I'm working on. My favorite part is always sharing, but sometimes I don't really get many interactions or responses, and then it's my least favorite part. One of my favorite things I've ever written is one of my least popular fics and that sucks. But I would say posting it is my favorite part, choosing tags, writing out my notes, and being excited about people reading it. My least favorite part is writer's block and running out of inspiration which sadly, happens to everybody. Nobody is immune *sigh.* And another favorite part is when I have a lot of inspiration and can't stop writing because I just have so many ideas. It's a lot of fun.