#I LOVE YOU HANK. PLEASE STAY ALIVE

[beheadable]

Wanting to reblog gifs to main but I’m only halfway through the show and I don’t want to be spoiled and also I’m afraid my favorite character might die because of random stuff I’ve seen a while ago

[sacredsorceress]

Scars / Logan Howlett

pairing: dofp!logan howlett x mutant!reader summary: every person has a soulmate. after settling in the future that he saved, logan starts to consider his next mission when a suspicious mark appears on him. word count: 3.2k a/n: good ol'fashioned soulmate AU. this is the first actual fic i've written in a long time so please have some grace. reblogs and replies are super appreciated! warnings: general mentions of logan's past, scars, self-doubt, alcoholism, reader smokes a cigar, mentions of razors, scars, wounds, two uses of y/n

logan masterlist | inbox | full masterlist

It had been a week since Logan woke up in his healed timeline.

For most people, the change would have been dramatic. But Logan was far unlike most people. The initial dreamlike state he was in when he first walked through the mansion- seeing the ghosts he had once known returned to the flesh, unscathed- quickly subsided. Logan had always been a man thrown onto a new path- how he lived life constantly changing to best fit his interests. Now, with his newfound peace he found the most complicated mission of all: what to do with the life he was now free to live?

Even before the sentinels, the battles, the wars- he had always been a man on the run. He was solo, strategic, concise. For a man who was gifted with infinite regeneration, he had solely concerned himself with staying alive. He ate for sustenance, sought shelter for safety, and nursed a bottle to find enough peace of mind to sleep at night.

The professor had once told him that for a person to reach self-actualization they first had to have all of their needs met. Logan had scoffed at the time, assuring the professor that he knew himself just fine. But now, with his problems so solved that they had ceased to ever exist, he wondered if maybe the professor was right.

Who was he? Where did he go from here?

The answer was found in the form of a scar on his hand.

"Well, everything seems to be just fine."

Logan scoffed at the blue man in front of him

"Well it's not." Logan said. "Check again."

Two days after he had come back, a large, circular scar had appeared on the palms of each of his hands. When they hadn't disappeared after two minutes, he rushed to the bathroom and nicked himself with his razor, watching as the wound healed with only blood dripping down his scruff as a remanent of it. Thirty minutes after that he found himself in the lab with Hank, Jean, and the Professor hypothesizing his miraculous marks.

"Logan, the tests came back clear." Jean assured him, leaning against the wall. "Maybe it's time to consider that it's something else."

Logan quirked his head towards her.

"I haven't had a scar in over two hundred years," he reminded her, his voice laced with irony. "I get not one, but two and you... what? Think it's a coincidence?"

Before Jean had a chance at rebuttal, the professor moved to face Logan.

"That's not what Jean's inferring, Logan." Charles reminded him. "We're simply asking that you consider other options. Less... dire options. It could, after all, be a good thing."

"Yeah?" Logan scoffed. "Like what?"

A silence hung in the air.

When Logan had first come to them with news of his scar, the thought had been on all three of their minds. Still, there were a plethora of things that could have caused that. Though, when the tests came back clear and his skin continued to heal from all sorts of abrasions, it felt as if there was only one answer for his seemingly magical scars.

However, none of them were keen on sharing this diagnosis with Logan. One wondered whether he'd handle the idea of his body failing him over fated love.

Hank was the first to speak up.

"Like a soulmate."

Oh that was rich, Logan thought.

Logan wasn't unfamiliar with the idea of soulmates.

Around the time that two fated lovers were destined to meet, there would be a sign for each of them. In some cases they were eyes changing colors, feeling the other's pain, finding their names everywhere they looked. In other cases they were new birthmarks, tattoos, scars.

In some way, the two were inextricably connected.

In his long life he had seen others experience it dozens if not hundreds of times. When the first thirty years of his life rolled around with no one, Logan accepted that he was one of the outliers. He considered it for the best and by now, with everything that he had gone through, the concept of soulmates almost seemed like an old wives' tale.

Logan glanced at their faces. When he realized they were serious, a deep laugh escaped from his gut. There was a lack of light in his eyes that admitted his insincerity.

"So I disappear for a few decades and you all start believing in fairytales?" Logan pulled the needles from his arm, the heart rate monitor going flat as he did. "What a bunch of bullshit."

Jean laid her hand against his chest, urging him back into the seat.

"Logan." She soothed him. "This is a good thing. Scott and I-"

Oh this was real rich.

"Scott and you are... what, huh?" Logan urged. "Soulmates?"

Logan scoffed, swiping Jean's hand from his chest.

"Bet you're so happy with your 'soulmate' and that's why you lead me on, huh? That it? You're happy?" He taunted, a dark laugh escaping him once more. "Spare me-"

"Logan, that's enough!"

The professor's voice echoed against the linoleum walls of the lab, reverberating off of the medical equipment throughout.

"If you want to wallow in your own self-deprivation, be my guest, but spare the rest of us your grief." Charles continued. "I think it would be best if you go back to your quarters and consider the future the universe has offered you."

The energy in the air was thick.

Jean and Hank avoided Logan’s eye contact while the professor’s nearly burned a whole through him.

Accepting defeat, Logan threw his hands up in the air and pushed himself out of his metal chair.

“Fine.”

Soulmates. Logan thought. Who would believe in a thing like that?

-

"It's a pleasure to see you again."

The atmosphere in the mansion was a stark contrast to the lab Charles had been in days before.

Now the school day had commenced: children skipping from class to class, students chatting with their friends in the hallway, teachers grabbing coffee between lessons. Amidst the organized chaos, Charles had arranged to meet you in the foyer: the replacement history teacher for Logan's class.

"You too, professor." You smiled, reaching out your hand. "I was so glad to hear from you."

Your hand hung in the air briefly, awaiting his return. Charles examined it for a moment- a twinkle in his eye- before taking it. His thumbs brushed against the newfound scars between your knuckles as he did.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't always have these scars, did you, Y/n?" Charles asked.

You had not.

You had woken with them a few days before. Despite your powers rooted in chaos magic, it wasn't uncommon for blemishes or wounds to etch themselves into your skin. However, you often knew why. These marks, scars, were not faint, but instead quite profound. Three thick, healed over wounds patched together like a stitch on the back of each of your hands.

"No professor."

He closed his eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips. Though you knew he wished to ask more questions, the moment was broken by Logan.

"Ah, the man himself." Charles beamed. "Logan, I'd like you to meet Y/n. She'll be covering your class."

You had seen your fair share of news stories about the Wolverine. Who hadn't? Though the television had never prepared you for just how tall, or broad he was.

"It's nice to meet you, Logan."

"You too." He nodded, taking your hand.

His hand lingered in yours for a moment. Charles cleared his throat.

"We were just discussing the most peculiar scar on Y/n's hand." Charles said. "Appeared just a few days ago out of nowhere."

Charles nodded his head in the direction of your hand, leading Logan to squint. As if a light bulb had gone off over his head, Logan glanced between Charles and yourself and with your hand still in his, he turned it examine the back.

Three scars between your knuckles. Right where his own claws would be.

Though he liked to imagine himself as the patron of remaining suave, Logan's eyebrows shot up at the recognition. He traced his view from your hands, up your torso, to your face where you eyed him questioningly.

He thought back to the way that he woke up in the seventies, wrapped in the arms of another woman. If times had been different and Logan hadn't undergone all the so-called character development in the last forty years, he was sure that a face like yours would have gotten him in a lot of trouble. You were beautiful, and your demeanor highlighted your strength.

Your face radiated kindness, warmth and most of all, sincerity- a trait that was difficult to come by in a trade such as his.

But then Logan recalled that this wasn't the seventies and you weren't at some bar leading him on the entire night: your hand was in his and, according to everyone else, he was yours.

The idea almost couldn't register in Logan's brain.

"Interesting, isn't it, Logan?" Charles asked, breaking the silence. "Almost identical to where your claws are, hmm?"

Oh the professor thought he was quite funny.

Logan pulled his hand back from your grasp and shook his head.

"Not that easy, Charles." Logan commented before turning to you, a spiteful tone in his voice. "See you around, bub."

Before you had the chance to open your mouth, you watched as Logan stomped down the nearest hallway, his boots squeaking against the floorboards as he did. His fists clenched and released at his sides as he disappeared from view.

His reaction had come so far from left field that if it hadn't given you whiplash, it would have hurt your ego. Instead you turned back to the professor.

"Was it something I said?" You asked.

The professor shook his head, patting your hand gently.

"Logan's quite a complicated man." He assured you. "I'm sure you'll come to know that more than the rest of us. Now, to your classroom..."

Glancing over your shoulder to the void-like hallway that Logan went down, you considered the professor's words.

-

A storm had taken over the mansion by nightfall.

As you padded down the wood panelled hallways, the lightbulbs shook in their glass with each thunder clap- wind swatting at the window panes every few seconds. The pitter patter of the raindrops, although harsh, was comforting. It was almost as if the mansion had been engulfed by the storm, trapping everyone inside, while consequently making the outside world feel a thousand miles away.

When you found Logan's door, tucked in at the end of the hallway, you knocked.

"Yep."

The weight of the door fell against the palm of your hands as you pushed it open.

Logan's room was dark. The only light in the space had been from the embers of the cigar that hung in his mouth, cradled between his thumb and forefinger. Despite the darkness, you could make out his figure sitting at his desk chair by the window, feet kicked up on the sill.

Logan only gave you a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to the view.

"What d'you want?"

His voice was thick and rough around the edges.

"I came for your textbooks." You replied, tiptoeing against his floorboards. "The professor said you'd have them."

The hand of his that held the cigar waved around. Minuscule ashes fell to the floor as your eyes remained trained on the light and the faint glow of the moon that illuminated the side of his face.

"Be my guest," he said. "Don’t have a clue where they are."

The professor had given you the lowdown when he saw your scars.

Charles told you that despite everything that you had learned- the history that you had known- the Wolverine you'd meet was not the same person. He was a man from a different time with far different, darker memories and enough baggage to weigh down dozens.

Amidst the silence, you cleared your throat.

"Must be hard to wake up in someone else's life."

By now you had reached his desk, your fingertips tracing the lines in the dark, lacquered wood.

You could smell him and the cigar from this distance- aftershave mixed with smoke.

"The professor tell you that?"

"Mhm."

The chair creaked as Logan flicked his hand towards the window, ushering you to come closer.

Watching your step in the dark, you maneuvered around the furniture and sat beside Logan on his desk- pushing loose papers to the side.

"He give you his whole spiel on soulmates too?" He asked, eyes trained on the rain outside.

Soulmates.

Now that was the last thing you expected to come from the Wolverine's mouth.

You'd heard of them more times than you could count. You once wondered whether every repetitive coincidence was a sign that your person was coming. But, when that never happened, you lost hope.

Who got to tell you who you belonged to anyway?

Leaning over, you gingerly took the cigar from his grasp and replaced it with your own fingers. Sitting back into the desk as lightening struck a tree in the distance, you took a puff.

"So that's what the scars on my hands were all about," You thought aloud.

The window fogged as you let the smoke leave from your mouth in a breathy sigh.

Logan tapped his fingers on his thighs, counting the seconds between a lightening strike and its consecutive rumble of thunder.

"Listen, I'm no prince charming if that's what you came here looking for."

Logan's chair creaked again as he leaned back in his seat. His arm draped against the desk as he met your gaze.

You chuckled and held out his cigar, offering it back to him.

"I came here looking for textbooks." You laughed. "You're the one who keeps talking about soulmates. I think you're more of a romantic than you let on.”

His fingers brushed against yours as he took the cigar back into his own hand. Another lightning strike met the ground in the distance, a clap of thunder following moments afterwards.

"You don't buy it?" Logan quirked his eyebrow. It was a teasing question, one he was curious to hear your answer to.

You shrugged.

"I don't think the universe gets to tell me who to love," you said. "If I fall in love with you it's because I love you, Logan. Not because some mark told me to. I just think of it as... a little shove in the right direction.”

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile for the first time.

"A shove?"

"Like a... blind date." You finished. "Ever been on one of those?"

A congested laugh escaped him.

"Sweetheart, do I look like the type of guy to go on a blind date?"

You bit the inside of your cheek at the name.

Rolling your eyes, you swatted at his arm. You wouldn't admit how much it hurt your knuckles to do so. You'd have to make a mental note to remember his adamantium skeleton.

"Gosh, you're cocky!"

Logan shrugged, "You're the one who likes it apparently."

You felt yourself grow hot at his accusation.

Even though he had a mark signalling his future affection for you, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed by Logan's knowledge of yours. You felt like a child who's crush had just been exposed to the whole class. Was he noting ever glance that you gave him? The way you didn't move when his arm brushed against yours?

A brief pause hung in the air until another thunder clap reverberated against the walls.

"So what's your mark?" You asked.

Logan shoved the cigar into the corner of his mouth. The biting motion forced him to flex his jaw in a way that you would refuse to admit made you start to realize that maybe the universe was right.

And that maybe his cockiness was justified.

He laid out his hands for you. The room was still dark, making the ability to discern the details of his scar impossible. Taking Logan's hands in yours, you summoned your magic into your hands, watching as they glowed gold.

Logan had two large, circular scars imprinted into his palms. It was a clear indicator of your own magical power that surged from your hands.

It left a feeling you couldn't describe in your chest to know that someone else was marked for you. They were destined for you. To be with you. You had a future written together before the two of you had met. Even if he rejected you, there was a sign etched into his skin that bound the two of you together in some fateful way.

Gently, you traced your fingertips against the mark, feeling the warmth that radiated from his palms.

When your eyes flicked upwards, you noticed how close the two of you were now sitting. You could feel his warm breath against your lips as the lingering smell of the cigar drifted up your nose.

Although he wouldn’t admit it, Logan was enchanted by the energy radiating from you. Whether people hated or loved him, his ability got a lot of talk. In his mind though, he would never be a hero. He was just some guy who got lucky.

You, though? He didn’t need you to tell him that you were an Omega level mutant. Logan had heard about you from the professor: you could cast spells, read minds, reconfigure reality- to name a few. You didn't need a reason to fight for what's right, you just did. Again, and again, and again. Even here, now, you were picking up Logan's history class when he knew very well you could be on the other side of the world sipping pina coladas if you wanted.

What the hell was the universe thinking putting you with him?

Logan admired the reflection of the magic on your cheeks and the way your eyes stayed trained on his palms. Your touch was so gentle he could have sworn he was in a distant dream until your eyes met his.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, gaze locked.

Then another clap of thunder shook the mansion.

You quickly leaned back, pulling your hands from Logan's touch.

"I should... I should go." You said, pushing yourself off of Logan's desk. "It's getting late and I have my first class in the morning."

Logan leaned back in his seat. He said nothing but eyes remained fixed on your form as you made your way towards the door.

Looking back at him with your hand on the knob you made a mental note to remember the image of him with his feet kicked back on the window as he smoked his cigar.

A soft smile remained.

"Good night, Logan."

When you didn't leave immediately, he nodded.

"Night, sweetheart."

Mustering up the courage to shoot him one last smile, you pulled open the door and stepped outside.

Now, Logan didn't know how much he believed in soulmates, but he could be inclined to consider that it was one good wingman.

Leaning back in his seat, Logan sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself drown out his worries with the sound of the rain.

a/n: my inbox is open for more requests! thank you for the request @welcometochilis585

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ 28

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,995ish

Summary: The aftermath of the Battle of Alcatraz Island.

Warnings: Possible character death. Grief.

Notes: I know I said that I'm taking a break. I am. I'm focusing on taking care of myself. But I also got to take care of you all. Hopefully, this provides a slight distraction for any pain any of you may be feeling. (Also, I know the gif happened in the last chapter, but it can still work here...)

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

The debris and water around the area quickly fell as Jean collapsed, dead. Logan spun around, looking for you. He couldn’t see you on top of any of the debris, making his heart sink.

“Y/N!” He screamed as he began using his senses to find you. “Y/N!” He caught a whiff of your blood and immediately began throwing debris. As soon as he could reach you, he pulled you into his lap. “Y/N? Sweetheart?” His heart dropped at the realization of how cold you were. “No.” 

He frantically looked for any sign that your body had begun to heal itself, but there was none. His fingers shot up to the pulse point at your neck, waiting with bated breath for something—anything to tell him that you were alive. He came up with nothing. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” Tears began pouring out of Logan’s eyes. “Somebody help me!”

“Logan!” Hank shouted, running towards Logan. “Logan, what—“ The blue, hairy mutant came stumbling to a stop. His eyes widened as he took in the scene of you limply laying in Logan’s arms with Jean dead a few feet away.

“Why is she not healing?!” Logan began panicking. What had happened that caused you to not be able to heal?

Hank broke out of his trance and rushed over to kneel on the other side of you. He placed two fingers under your neck and silently prayed for a pulse. His heart sank further with each passing second.

“Logan—“

“Do something, Hank! I need you to do something! Anything! I can’t lose her again!”

“I can find us a jet, perhaps get her back to the mansion. But, Logan, there’s no promises that she’ll… that she’ll wake.”

Logan shook his head, pulling you closer into his chest. “She’s not dead! She can heal!”

“She’s not healing, Logan.”

“No! You need to do something! You need to try! Or I swear to God that I will kill you.”

Hank gave a solemn nod. “I will go see if there’s a jet we can borrow.” Hank rushed off, worrying about how Logan would react if you didn’t wake up.

Logan’s eyes fell back on you. He began rocking back and forth. “I need you to wake up, baby,” he whispered, using everything in him to beg. “This isn’t funny. I know that I’ve made a shit ton of mistakes, but I can’t fix them if you’re not here… Wake up, sweetheart. Please.”

~~~

Hank was thankful to quickly find a jet that they could use. The X-Men piled up in it, steering clear of Logan and you. Hank brought Jean’s body on board, covering it with something so no one had to look. It was completely quiet the whole way back to the mansion.

“Logan,” Hank called once they had landed. “I need you to give her to me.” The Wolverine simply growled, holding on to you tighter. Hank sighed. “I can’t do anything with you holding her.”

“Work around me,” Logan snapped.

“I can’t do that.”

“Try.”

“Logan,” Ororo walked up, trying her hand with him. “We know that you love Y/N; we do too. But you have to let her go in order to help her.”

Logan shook his head. “What if I let her go. and she’s truly gone?”

“We don't know that until we let Hank try.”

After a brief second, Logan nodded, loosening his grip on you. Hank quickly took you and carried you off to the lab. Logan felt empty without you, sliding to the floor and breaking down. Ororo was quick to kneel beside him, trying to comfort him.

“I can’t—She can’t be—I don’t think I’ll—“ Logan’s mind was spiraling so fast that he couldn’t finish a single thought. “I should’ve stayed with her. I should have protected her… Ororo…” She sucked in a breath as Logan used her real name for the first time. “What if I’ve lost her?”

Though Ororo knew that Logan didn’t like physical affection from anyone besides you and sometimes Rogue, but she couldn’t help herself. She flung herself at Logan, holding him close. His head fell against her shoulder as heart-wrenching sobs began to wrack his body. Ororo rubbed Logan’s back as she let him cry. She knew it was pointless trying to say anything of comfort. She had seen you for herself and was utterly heartbroken at the thought of losing you after the loss of Scott, Charles, and Jean. But she didn’t love you in the way Logan did, for as long as Logan had. So Ororo would do what she could, which was to hold Logan as he let out his emotions while she said a silent prayer to whoever was listening.

~~~

Hank had to keep his emotions in check as he worked on you. The first thing he had to do was check to see if you had been injected with the cure without anyone’s knowledge. It was the only thing that he could think of for the reason why you weren’t healing, why you weren’t breathing. As Hank took a vial of your blood, he quickly realized that your blood was bubbling like it was boiling. He quickly began to run the test for the cure as he took another few vials, noticing the same thing: your blood was boiling.

Hank locked down the lab, not wanting anyone to enter if something was terribly wrong. He knew that Logan would fight it and could get in with his adamantium claws, but he had to take that chance. There was something going on with you. His only hypothesis was that Jean’s own powers had down something when she was controlling you. But what? 

Checking the monitoring for your stats, Hank noticed that your temperature began rising again, though you still had no heartbeat. 

“What are you doing, Y/N?” He muttered to himself.

It didn’t take long before Hank could confirm that you hadn’t been injected with the cure. He carefully monitored you, making note of your slowly rising temperature.

“Hank!” Logan yelled, pounding on the large lab doors. “Let me in!”

“Not a good idea, Logan!” Hank responded, not taking his eyes off the monitors as your temperature rose faster.

“I need to be with her!” The monitors began frantically beeping as your temperature rose to dangerous levels. Logan could hear them. “What’s going on?!”

“Stay out there!” Hank backed away as smoke began to lift from your body.

Logan sniffed, smelling the familiar scent of your smoke. He unsheathed his claws and before Hank or Ororo could stop him, cut a large hole in the lab doors. He rushed in, with Ororo right behind him, only to see your body go up in flames.

“NO!” He hurried forward only to be pushed back as your flames suddenly grew. “Y/N!”

“Storm!” Hank shouted. “Can you put her out?”

Storm shook her head. “I don’t know if I should.”

“Someone do something!” Logan yelled.

Abruptly, the flames that had engulfed you disappeared, leaving behind a heap of ashes where your body once was. Logan reached out, hands trembling over your ashes, before collapsing to the ground.

“No,” he breathed out. “No…”

Hank looked down, shoulders slumped as Ororo covered her mouth in shock. The two watched as Logan let a few tears trickle down his cheeks before his jaw clenched and his eyes closed. His hand found the dog tags tucked underneath his leather suit and tore them from around his neck. Logan’s eyes snapped open, with a cold, determined look in them. He stood up and tossed the dog tags onto the pile of ashes. Spinning around, Logan marched out of the room.

“Logan!” Ororo called after him, Hank following. “Where are you going?”

“This is not my home,” he sneered. “Not without Y/N.”

“That’s not true,” she shook her head, trying to get in front of the man. When she did, he simply stepped around her. “This can be your home. We care about you.”

“There’s nothing for me here anymore.”

“Logan, please… we all have lost enough. We need each other.”

“I do better alone.”

“No, you don’t,” Hank responded. “Don’t go, Logan.”

Logan paused for a brief moment, thinking about you. He was sure you wouldn't want him to be alone. But you weren’t here to stop him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled before heading upstairs.

Ororo and Hank didn’t bother going after him, knowing that it was hard to change Logan’s mind. And that Logan needed time to mourn your death.

~~~

A week passed since the Battle of Alcatraz Island. Jean had been buried with both her and Scott given memorials next to Charles’. No one was ready to give you one yet. No one had set foot in the lab since you had turned to ash.

Rogue, now going by Marie, returned having taken the cure. She and Bobby finally got to touch, but her biggest concern was Logan.

Though no one had officially followed Logan, they had heard that he was at a nearby bar, drinking and fighting his way through his grief. Ororo and Hank made sure to keep tabs on Logan by bribing bar regulars and did their best to keep Marie from going to Logan. He wasn’t okay, and no one wanted her to see him like that.

“The President wants me to be the new ambassador to the United Nations,” Hank told Ororo one night. They were sitting in the Professor’s office, often finding themselves there at night when they couldn’t sleep. “He wants me in DC tomorrow to announce it.”

“You should go,” Ororo encouraged. “You’ve helped out so much. You need to get back to your own life.”

Hank nodded. “I should clean up the lab before I go.”

“We should put the ashes in an urn. Logan may want them one day.”

“Okay… I just wish I could understand what happened to her. Why did her healing abilities stop working? How did she turn to ash?”

“I do, too. For Logan’s sake.”

“Keep me updated on him, will you?”

“Of course.”

Hank wished Ororo goodnight and headed downstairs to find something to clean your ashes into. He immediately froze at the door when he arrived. The ash pile had grown, with a similar shape to yours. Slowly, he moved closer. All of a sudden, you gasped, shooting up. The ashes fell off of you and onto the floor, revealing your naked body.

“Oh, my— Y/N!” Hank exclaimed. 

He grabbed the lab coat from a nearby chair and rushed to your side. He draped it over your shoulders as he began to take in your form. There were no scars on your skin. It was like brand new.

“What—“ you cut yourself off with a cough. “What happened?” You glanced around the room. “Where’s Logan?”

“What do you last remember?” Hank asked.

“Uh… we were at Alcatraz Island. I was injured, I think… Jean got a hold of me, and then nothing.”

“Well, you died.”

“What?”

“You died a week ago.”

“No,” you shook your head. “That’s not possible.”

“I know, but somehow you died, and then when we got you back here, your body went up in flames. You turned to ash.”

“That’s… insane.” You looked around again, finally noticing the dog tags in your lap. You carefully picked them up. “These are mine and Logan’s. Where is he?”

Hank sighed. “He left after you turned to ash.”

Your heart dropped. “He left?”

“Yes, but we’ve been informed that he’s at a nearby bar, drinking away and cage fighting.”

“I have to go get him.” You scrambled off the table, the lab coat slipping off you.

“Uh, Y/N?”

“What?”

“You may want to put some clothes on.”

You looked down to find yourself naked. You picked up the lab coat and wrapped it around yourself. “Right. Thanks.”

“Be careful. Logan’s not okay.”

“That’s why I can’t waste another second.”

next chapter >

[urdreamydoodles]

Love your works!!!! And I love Mr. Pickles!!!

May I ask for headcanons if reader dies in their arms?

Asking for: Emma Frost, Charles Xavier, Jean Grey, Piotr Rasputin, Beast, and Illyana Rasputin

No pressure ofc!!! Thank you!!

And have I mentioned that I fucking love your works?!?!

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

You die in their arms (Part.1)

In the heat of battle, you succumbs to fatal injuries in the arms of your partner. Each X-Men, torn apart by grief, reacts to the devastating loss, facing the crushing reality that their greatest power cannot bring back the person they love most.

Characters: Emma Frost, Charles Xavier, Jean Grey, Colossus, Hank McCoy & Magik

First of all, thank you for this message, you are my first request and you have no idea how much it touches me. And secondly, your compliments make me blush, I'm glad you like my work, because personally I've never had as much fun as writing about something as this. Get ready for a LOT of headcanons because I have a lot in store. Above all, don't hesitate to ask for other requests <3 And thanks to you, you inspired me to make your request for other X-Men and X-Women. PS: MR. PICKLES WILL RETURN

Emma Frost

The battlefield was littered with chaos—explosions, screams, and the metallic scent of blood filled the air. You and Emma had been fighting alongside the X-Men, as you had countless times before, but this time was different. This battle had been brutal, and even though you had faced danger before, nothing had ever felt this dire. You had always fought by her side, both of you in sync, but as the fight raged on, you felt your strength starting to wane.

Emma’s voice was sharp and commanding in your mind, as always. “Stay with me, darling. We’re almost through this,” she had said, her mental link giving you strength. But when the blast came—one you hadn’t seen coming—it sent you flying, the pain immediate and overwhelming. You crumpled to the ground, clutching your side, feeling the warmth of your own blood seeping through your fingers.

Emma’s scream tore through the battlefield, her telepathic wail so fierce it silenced everyone for a moment. In the next second, she was at your side, her diamond form shimmering as she knelt down, her hands trembling as they reached for you. The moment her fingers touched your skin, her diamond exterior shattered, leaving her vulnerable in a way she never was on the battlefield.

"Y/N," she whispered, her voice breaking. "No, no, no... this can’t be happening."

You struggled to stay conscious, your vision blurring as you looked up at her, the love of your life, her face twisted in anguish. "I’m sorry," you choked out, each word a struggle. "I tried... I really tried."

Tears fell from her eyes, something she rarely allowed herself to do. She pressed her forehead against yours, her voice shaking. "Don’t you dare say goodbye. Not yet. I won’t let you go."

But you could feel it. The life slipping away, your heartbeat growing fainter. You reached up weakly, your hand brushing against her cheek. "Emma... I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Emma’s breath hitched as she gripped your hand, holding onto you as if her sheer willpower could keep you alive. "I love you too," she whispered back, her lips brushing your forehead. "Please... please stay."

But you couldn’t. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body growing still in her arms.

For a moment, Emma just sat there, her mind refusing to accept what had just happened. Then, with a heart-wrenching scream, she unleashed a wave of telepathic energy so powerful that it swept across the battlefield, knocking down enemies, sending shockwaves through everyone’s minds. She cradled your body, her chest heaving with sobs, her mind desperate, reaching out to you, trying to find any trace of your consciousness.

But you were gone.

And for the first time in her life, Emma Frost felt utterly, completely broken.

Charles Xavier

The fight had been relentless, and despite the X-Men’s best efforts, the battle had taken a terrible toll. You had always been the calm in Charles’ storm, the grounding presence he could rely on when the weight of leading the X-Men grew too heavy. But today, everything had gone wrong. You had been separated from the team, cornered by enemies, and though you fought bravely, you had been wounded—badly.

By the time Charles found you, the world had already started fading around the edges. He wheeled towards you with a speed and desperation you had never seen in him before. His voice echoed in your mind, trembling with fear. *"Y/N, hold on. Please, just hold on."*

You could barely open your eyes, the pain in your body making it difficult to even breathe. But you heard him, and you smiled weakly, your heart aching as you felt his mind reaching for yours, trying to steady you, trying to keep you present. "I’m sorry, Charles," you rasped, your voice so faint it barely carried over the sounds of battle. "I wasn’t strong enough."

"No," Charles said, his voice firm, though you could hear the fear beneath it. "You are strong. You’ve always been strong. Don’t leave me, Y/N. I can’t lose you."

You felt his hand grasp yours, his grip trembling. You had always marveled at how Charles carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, always keeping his emotions tightly controlled. But now, there was no control. There was only fear, and love, and desperation in his eyes.

"You were always my strength, Charles," you whispered, your hand squeezing his as best as you could. "I love you. So much."

Tears filled his eyes, his voice breaking as he spoke. "And I love you. You are everything to me."

You could feel his mind wrapping around yours, trying to hold you there, trying to stop the inevitable. He was begging, pleading with you to stay, to fight, but your body was failing. You felt the warmth of his love in your mind, a comfort even as the world started slipping away.

"Please, Y/N," Charles whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Please, don’t leave me."

But you couldn’t hold on any longer. The pain faded, the world grew silent, and your grip on his hand loosened.

Charles sat there, his hand still holding yours, as the battlefield around him seemed to blur into nothing. His heart shattered, and in that moment, all the strength and control he had maintained for years crumbled. He lowered his head, his tears falling onto your lifeless body, and he sent out a silent scream, a wave of raw emotion so powerful that it resonated across the minds of every living person on the battlefield.

Charles had lost many people in his life. But losing you felt like the end of everything.

Jean Grey

The battle had taken its toll, not just on the X-Men but on the world itself. You and Jean had fought side by side, your powers complementing each other in ways that made you an unstoppable force. But this battle had pushed you both beyond your limits. You had been caught in an explosion, your body thrown against the rubble, the pain blinding and all-consuming.

Jean was at your side in an instant, her telekinetic powers lifting the debris off you, her hands trembling as she reached for you. "No... no, no, no," she whispered, her voice cracking as she cradled your head in her lap. "Y/N, stay with me."

You could barely keep your eyes open, the world spinning as you struggled to breathe. "Jean..." you whispered, your voice so weak, so broken. "I... I don’t think I can..."

"Don’t you dare say that," Jean said, her voice fierce but laced with panic. "You’re going to be okay. I won’t let you go."

You could feel her mind reaching out to yours, wrapping around your consciousness, trying to keep you there with her. Her love flooded your mind, a warmth that soothed the pain, but you could feel your body slipping away, your strength fading.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, your hand weakly reaching for hers. "I’m so sorry."

Jean’s tears fell onto your face as she held you closer. "Don’t apologize," she said, her voice breaking. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve always been there for me. Please... just stay a little longer."

You could see the anguish in her eyes, feel the desperation in her mind as she tried to hold on to you. But the pain was too much, and your body was failing.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I love you too," Jean said, her voice shaking as she pressed her forehead against yours, her tears falling freely now. "Please... don’t leave me."

But you were slipping away, the world growing darker, quieter, as you took your last breath. Jean’s sobs echoed in your fading consciousness, her mind screaming out for you, trying to pull you back. But it was too late.

Jean held your lifeless body in her arms, her chest heaving with sobs. She let out a scream, a psychic wave that shattered the air around her, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. Her grief, her agony, her love—they all collided in that moment, her powers surging uncontrollably as she held onto you, unable to let go.

In that moment, Jean Grey—one of the most powerful beings in the universe—felt utterly powerless.

Colossus

The battle was at its peak, and the sounds of war echoed around you. Explosions rocked the battlefield as Colossus, in his full metal form, fought valiantly beside you. His towering figure was always a source of comfort, an indestructible wall between you and the chaos. The ground shook beneath your feet as you moved to join him, your heart pounding with adrenaline.

But then, an enemy blast caught you off guard, the impact throwing you off your feet. You hit the ground hard, the pain immediate and overwhelming. Blood seeped from your wounds as you struggled to breathe, your vision blurring. You tried to push yourself up, but your body refused to respond. The sound of heavy metal footsteps reached your ears, and you knew Piotr had seen you fall.

His metallic form glimmered in the firelight as he ran toward you, his eyes wide with terror. You had never seen him like this, even in the most dangerous situations. He dropped to his knees beside you, the cold steel of his hands cradling you gently despite their immense strength.

"Y/N!" His voice was thick with fear, a sound you'd never thought you'd hear from someone as powerful as him. "Please, no. Not you. Not like this."

You tried to smile, but the pain was too much. "Piotr..." you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I... I can't..."

He shook his head, his metal features twisting in agony. "Don’t speak. I’ll protect you," he promised, though the pain in his voice told you he knew there was nothing he could do. He tried to stem the flow of blood from your wound, his massive hands shaking.

His metal body was usually unyielding, but now he seemed so vulnerable, so afraid. He held you close, his cold arms pulling you against his chest. "Stay with me, please," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. His entire body trembled as he struggled to maintain control.

Your hand reached up weakly to touch his face, the cool metal of his cheek sending a shiver through your fingers. "I love you," you whispered, the words catching in your throat as darkness closed in around you.

He let out a sob, his steel form shuddering with grief. "I love you more than anything, Y/N. You’re everything to me."

But it was too late. Your breath faded, and your hand slipped from his cheek, falling limply to the ground. Piotr let out a roar of anguish, his voice reverberating across the battlefield. He held your lifeless body close, his tears mingling with the blood and dirt that stained your skin. Even in his indestructible form, he felt more broken than ever before.

Magik

The battle had spiraled out of control, and you found yourself separated from the rest of the X-Men, the air thick with smoke and the sound of clashing metal. You had always admired Illyana’s ability to remain calm in the face of chaos, but this time, the situation was different. The enemies were relentless, and no matter how hard you fought, it wasn’t enough. Then, out of nowhere, a blade struck you, piercing through your side, and you collapsed to the ground.

Before you could even cry out, the world around you warped, and you found yourself in Limbo. Illyana stood before you, her eyes wide with horror as she took in the sight of your bloodied body. “No...” she whispered, her sword clattering to the ground as she rushed to your side.

You tried to speak, but the pain was overwhelming, your vision flickering in and out of focus. Illyana’s hands shook as she pressed them against your wound, trying to stop the blood that poured out of you. “I’ll fix this,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can fix this.”

You had always known that Illyana was powerful beyond measure, but in this moment, she looked small, fragile, as though she was trying to hold onto something that was slipping away. She stared down at you, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she knelt beside you, her hands glowing with the dark magic of Limbo.

“I can’t lose you,” she whispered, her voice breaking as tears filled her eyes. “Not like this.”

You reached up with what little strength you had left, your hand brushing against her cheek. “Illyana,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I love you.”

Her breath hitched as she leaned down, pressing her forehead against yours. “I love you too, more than anything,” she said, her voice shaking. “You can’t leave me. I won’t let you.”

But you could feel your life slipping away, the pain becoming numb as the darkness closed in. You wanted to stay, to hold on, but it was too late. Your hand fell limp in hers, your chest rising for the last time as your heart stopped.

Illyana let out a scream that echoed through the very fabric of Limbo, a sound so filled with grief and fury that it sent shockwaves through the demonic realm. Her magic surged uncontrollably, her power crackling through the air as she cradled your lifeless body in her arms. In her rage, the demons of Limbo cowered, the sky itself trembling in fear.

But no amount of power could bring you back, and that realization shattered her. She held onto you, her tears falling onto your skin, whispering your name over and over again as the world around her grew dark, consumed by her grief.

Hank McCoy

The battlefield had turned into a warzone of destruction, and even though you and Hank had fought together many times before, this battle was unlike any you had experienced. You had always admired how composed and intellectual Hank was, even in the most dire of situations. But this time, the enemy had been too quick, too brutal, and before you could react, you had been struck by a powerful blast.

Your body hit the ground hard, pain shooting through you as you struggled to breathe. Blood spilled from the wound in your chest, and every breath felt like a mountain weighing down on you. Through the haze of pain, you heard Hank’s voice, panicked and desperate, something you had never heard from him before.

“Y/N!” He shouted, rushing toward you, his blue fur standing on end as he dropped to his knees beside you. His large hands were gentle as he cradled your head in his lap, his eyes wide with terror as he took in the sight of your injuries. “No, no, this can’t be happening.”

You tried to smile up at him, but the pain was too much. “I’m sorry, Hank,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t... I couldn’t...”

“Shh,” he said, his voice shaking. He pressed his hand to your wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. His eyes were filled with panic, his normally calm and collected demeanor completely gone. “You’ll be alright. Just stay with me.”

You could feel the life draining from you, the world growing darker around the edges. You reached up weakly, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

Hank’s eyes filled with tears, something you had never seen from him before. “I love you too, more than you’ll ever know,” he said, his voice breaking. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his tears falling onto your face. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t... I can’t do this without you.”

You wanted to stay, to hold on, but your body was failing, your heart slowing with every passing second. You looked up at him one last time, your vision blurring as you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

And then, everything went dark.

Hank let out a strangled sob, his entire body trembling as he held you close. His mind raced, trying to think of a solution, something that could bring you back, but he knew it was too late. You were gone, and nothing could change that.

He sat there for what felt like an eternity, holding your lifeless body in his arms, his tears falling freely as he whispered your name. The battlefield raged on around him, but for Hank, the world had stopped. You were gone, and with you, a part of him had died too.

[multi-fandoms-posts]

In the Storm of Love and Rage

X Men Masterlist:

The mission is dangerous, as it often is, but this time something feels different. Y/N, Charles, and Erik are heading out together to stop a dangerous mutant faction threatening a secret facility. The air is electric, and the tension weighs heavily on their shoulders. Y/N fights as always, side by side with the two men who share her heart, but she feels that something ominous is in the air today.

"Stay close to me," Erik murmurs, his voice quiet but intense as they approach their target.

Y/N rolls her eyes slightly, casting him a quick glance. "I can take care of myself, Erik. We all know that."

Charles, standing calmly beside them, looks from Erik to Y/N and smiles gently. "We know you're strong, Y/N, but he’s just worried about you. We both are."

Erik grumbles in agreement, his eyes still focused on the mission ahead. Yet Y/N can sense the underlying worry he’s trying to hide. She knows him well enough to understand that he views any danger to her as a personal enemy.

---

The fight breaks out faster than they expected. The enemies are well-organized and skilled. Charles coordinates their attacks mentally, keeping their opponents at bay, while Erik uses metal structures around them to neutralize enemies from a distance. Y/N dodges blows, fighting with strength and precision, but suddenly, the unexpected happens.

A mutant, faster than she anticipates, sneaks up from behind and stabs a knife into her side. She gasps, the world around her blurring for a moment. The pain is overwhelming, and she drops to one knee.

“Y/N!” Charles screams in her mind, and Erik whirls around, his eyes widening in shock and fury.

“No!”

With a furious shout, Erik loses all control. The metal around him shatters and tears through the attackers nearby. His power is unleashed without restraint, while Charles tries to reach his thoughts.

"Erik, calm down!" Charles rushes to Y/N, who clutches her side, her face contorted in pain, blood dripping through her fingers. But Erik is beyond hearing, his rage boiling over.

"I’ll kill them all," Erik growls, his eyes burning with uncontrollable fury.

Charles knows words alone won’t be enough. He steps in front of Erik, blocking his view of the enemies. "Erik, listen to me! She’s alive! Y/N is hurt, but she’s alive!"

But Erik doesn't stop. Metal shards swirl around them, and Charles sees Erik sinking deeper into his anger. Without thinking twice, Charles grabs Erik's face, forcing him to look into his eyes.

"Erik, please! You’re losing yourself in your rage. She needs us both right now, not your anger!"

For a moment, Erik seems trapped in his fury, but Charles doesn’t hesitate. He pulls Erik into a deep, calming kiss, his lips firm and demanding. It’s an attempt to pull him back from the darkness, and slowly, Erik’s body begins to relax. The floating metal falls to the ground with a dull thud, and Erik breathes heavily as he finally comes back to himself.

“Charles…” Erik whispers, his voice rough. He pulls back, his eyes searching and filled with pain.

"It’s okay," Charles murmurs softly, leaning his forehead against Erik’s. "She’ll make it. We just need to stay calm now."

Erik takes a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly, but he nods. The storm inside him has subsided, at least for now. He quickly turns and rushes to Y/N, who lies on the ground, trying to stop the blood from her wound.

“Y/N,” Erik whispers, kneeling beside her and taking her hand. His voice nearly breaks with worry. “I’m sorry, I should have protected you.”

Y/N slowly opens her eyes, her face twisted in pain, but a small smile appears on her lips. “I knew you’d freak out as always,” she says, her voice weak but with a hint of humor. “Charles has everything under control, right?”

Charles, who has also come over to them, smiles slightly, his hand gently resting on Y/N’s forehead. “Always,” he murmurs. “But you should rest. Hank will take care of you soon.”

Y/N closes her eyes briefly before opening them again, looking at the two of them. "You two..." She sighs and then laughs quietly, though it makes her wince in pain. "If I weren’t in so much pain, this would be the perfect moment for sex."

Charles and Erik exchange a glance, both smiling slightly despite the tension. "At least she hasn’t lost her sense of humor," Charles says softly, while Erik gently strokes her hand.

“You’re incredible,” Erik murmurs, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

Y/N weakly winks at them before closing her eyes, exhausted but with a smile on her lips.

[pocket-watcher]

Hello friend! I have a request, please!

Betrayal. Specifically, one of the hero’s sidekicks had previously been kidnapped by a villain and hypnotized to lead the rest of the group into a trap. They’ve been brainwashed to the core, and now that the rest of the group is trapped, the villain can finally take them as well, their loving, hypnotized pet sidekick at their side. Smiling. Maybe they even lightheartedly apologize to their doomed friends. Lots of resistance attempts and “snap out of it!” stuff.

Hi friend!! This is such a deliciously evil concept, you mastermind. I hope this does it justice…

Day number 57 since a member of the team had been captured by the villains.

And man, it was just eating up everyone inside.

Lacey had giant bags under her eyes, Hank had gone through the security footage at least 100 times, and me?

I was… fine.

I mean, I’d be better if we had Petey back, but, it was fine. I was fine.

“You don’t look so good, Elle.” Lacey put her hand on my shoulder.

“Really? Because I feel great! Super, even. Aha, pun intended.” I laughed weakly, before clearing my throat.

The warehouse echoed with it.

We’d ran the data. And then ran it two more times. Petey was here, all we needed to do was our jobs.

We just had to save him.

Hank scanned the room and gestured for us to move forward. Stopping and scanning, every few feet, until he faulted for a moment.

“…Petey…?” He said, with relief, running out into the open.

The man tackled Petey into a bear hug.

“Oh thank the lord.” Hank mumbled into his shoulder.

Lacey stood back whilst I joined the two.

“What happened? Are you okay? Where were you?” I asked, checking his face for any distress.

No new wounds, that was good.

“I’m okay.” He said, truth in his eyes. “I promise you I’m okay. I’m just happy to see you guys again.” Petey was smiling between the two of us, when his face turned to confusion.

“Lacey?” Petey asked.

She was still hanging back.

“I’m just… this feels a bit too convenient, right?”

We all stared blankly at her.

“Lacey, I’m fine -“

“How did you escape? How are you even standing in front of us, we all know that -“

Her voice broke.

We all know that hostages don’t make it out alive.

“Can’t you just be grateful?” Hank shoved her shoulder. “You always gotta be some sorta conspiracy theorist.”

“Guys, enough.” I yelled. “Let’s go home, come on.”

I grabbed Petey’s hand to walk out the door when -

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you do that.”

Petey’s feet were planted on the floor. He was smiling, sweetly at me.

I looked at him in confusion.

“You wanted to know how I escaped? I didn’t.”

His tone was all wrong. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

That was when Lacey shifted into a fighting stance, when Hank staggered backwards, and I pushed Petey behind me to see someone walking out of the shadows.

A villain.

“Ah, so these must be your friends?” The voice asked.

“You stay away from him.” I growled.

“Petey, be a good boy and come here, won’t you?”

I watched as Petey, without a hint of resistance, casually joined the villain at their side.

Lacey’s teeth were bared. Hank looked broken.

“How could you?!” Hank yelled.

“Don’t blame dear Petey, he was just doing what I told him. And now he’s brought me some new toys to break in.”

I started at that. I had to get Petey away from this monster. Away from whatever was making him act this way.

The other two jumped into action, ducking and dodging the villain’s attacks.

“Come on Petey!” I yelled, being batted away from him by a large mechanical arm that had sprung from who knows where. It tried to pin me down, but I wrestled. “Fight it!!”

Hank went flying past me.

Petey stood there, smiling, muttering something. I read his lips.

“Just give in. It feels so good. Stay with me.”

I shook my head and snapped the robotic arm, throwing what I had at the villain to distract them from Lacey.

“I know you’re still in there Petey! Just hang on, I’m coming.” I started, before I felt arms pulling me back.

Except this time, they were human.

“Hank?! What the hell are you doing?? Let me go!”

He had some sort of helmet on him, controlling him.

This must be what they did to Petey, I thought.

I turned to see Lacey’s terrified eyes lock with mine as she too had a helmet forced onto her.

I pleaded with Petey. He smiled warmly at me.

“Don’t be sad. We’re together again.”

He walked over to me and carefully placed the helmet on my head.

And I dropped.

[kboo1999]

Chicago P.D. Season 12, Episode 2: "Blood Bleeds Blue"

yaeah forgot, how still big mad i am at them for this

oh ruz

this is not what to do sir

is this going to be the "new" actual officer

oh wow...if this is her, she's showing her toughness

ahhhh!!! yessss!!! atwater!!!!

i love that kev was the first from intelligence to come to adam's side

i guess i did kinda miss patrol being more involved...it was just different when it was burgess & atwater or even burgess &

yes for telling him to grab it

cook. lol.

oh no. ruzek is going silent deadly mode...

anyone else find it interesting how anytime that they've introduced a new female character, kim has NOT been in that particular episode...

ugh. hate this.

"he's just a tiny little thing"

officer cook is pretty hilarious it seems

boys? plural?? hold up. whatttt??????!??!!??!

oh yeahhhhhh torres!!!!

lol. dante. hank calls him dante now???!!!?!?!!?!!!

i really hope that next epsiode 12x3 brings the same that 11x3 brought with all the. domestic Burzek

i love all this multi team up between units, teams, etc - patrol, all of platt's people, and more - people being concerned about martel

yeahhhhhh, this officer cook is funny as fucking hell. she really said, "dumbass"

oh..no...kevin's face. it says it all.

omfg. i guess martel really had a lot of people that liked her..

ugh. poor ruzek.

really hank???

OCD teams...

these kids trip me fucking out!!!! like immediately taking defense against the cops just because

this kid is very knowledgeable, though

yyeaaahhhh. this dad, daryl. he screams bad news frf

lol. not i didn't want to know. that should tell you all that you ever need to know about someone.

yes officer, yessss!!!

oh no.

i forgot he even had the blood on his hands to begin with

yes. see officer cook. yes. good.

um...so the kid grabbed a gun.

exactly why the hell. ohhhhh. yep. so the kid is going after his dad. at least that's what I'm assuming

bruh. these people and aiming guns at the cops like that ...

ugh. and these damn kids.

really kid?? really?

yes, torres yes!!!!!

lol. not the my dad's crazy.

"until you hear direct word from officer ruzek" agh!!!! ⎯ i love that, adam deserves to be in charge of these things again, he's more than earned it, and been in intelligence the longest.

lol damn - adam was mother fucking ready

and boom. it all goes boom.

aww, hank's little run up to adam and trying to get through to adam is wild.

really dig officer cook.

sooo, maybe it's adam that's going to get his gold shield then?

um interesting. so we're going straight into a atwater centric episode.

ADAM RUZEK

oh ruz

god. poor ruz.

and kim is not here to be with him.

this is not what to do sir

ruzek goes crazy when. in vengeance mode, we know that

aww, the way that adam says, "he's just a tiny little thing"

soooooo, is he ever going to at least give kim like a quick call or text to let her know that he's at least alive??

awww, kim is calling!!!!

but seriously, lol wow, it's like i just knew there connection would lead to kim and adam

i am curious as to if makayla stayed with adam, or if she's with kim at her little conference

not adam knowing it's hank before he even pulled into his peripheral

and she calls againnnnn!!!!

awww!!!!! the pic of Kim & Makayla as Kim's contact pic

lol your wife. the fact that she assumed it was his wife. like yes duhhhhh!!! DEFINITELY HIS WIFEY!!!!

soon to be.

awwwhhh.

you can't!!! you just can't???

OMFG. ADAM. DO NOT BE THIS VERSION OF ADAM AGAIN. please!!!!!

oh hell. adam!!!

yes. this reminds me of OG ADAM RUZEK!!! ⎯ the adam that i feel in love withhh

oh no. ruz. he's shaking so bad

so based on the progression and word usage of this episode, I'm going to go out on a limb here, and assume that it's adam that's going to be promoted to detective

OFFICER COOK

the toughness

she really without hesitation dove into partnering up with adam

officer cook is pretty damn hilarious it seems

this chick is funny!!!

she really without hesitation dove into partnering up with adam

"dumbass", lol i cannnnooooottttt, she's funny lol

yes officer cook, yessss!!!

that was a nice little love tap to the side of the car there officer cook

oh hell!!!!!!

he really drove off with her ass on the hood.

and then she still hung in there and got a damn shot off

she's a badass. i like her. i like her a lot!!

ATWATER

love that kev was the first to get there for adam from intelligence

kinda hate that atwater seemed to have been "stuck" (can't really think of any other word for it then that)

DISTRICT 21

i love that they finally showed us some of the rest of the district

it's been a really long time since they've all been keyed in and involved

TRUDY (MF) PLATT

oh trudyyyyy lol. i missed ma ladyyy, hardcore!!!

yessssss, platt heard intelligence, and was like hell fucking nah.

platt heard the ruzek part and was hell nah bruh

god. seriously. i love a trudy platt.

the way that trudy loves adam is just ahh.

BURZEK

soooooo, is he ever going to at least give kim like a quick call or text to let her know that he's at least alive??

i am curious as to if makayla stayed with adam, or if she's with kim at her little conference

and she calls againnnnn!!!!

lol your wife. the fact that she assumed it was his wife. like yes duhhhhh!!! DEFINITELY HIS WIFEY!!!!

soon to be.

awwwhhh.

you can't!!! you just can't???

OMFG. ADAM. DO BE THIS VERSION OF ADAM AGAIN. please!!!!!

OFFICER RUZEK & OFFICER COOK

lol wife!!!. the fact that she assumed it was his wife. like yes, YESSSSS DEFINITELY HIS WIFEY!!!! - adam's little "soon to be", i am loving this whole thing

“officer cook you alright?” - the slight desperation in adam’s voice there

the way that adam gave props and recognition. a wonderful man.

HANK VOIGHT

the way that hank walks when he's rushing. lol.

DANTE TORRES

aww, dante torres. one of the best additions to the team..

seriously just mmmm. another torres sighting.

torres and this car crack me tf up!!!!

it's a good way to stay undercover though

god. the way he talks. *sigh* i love him.

i love torres and all his tats

i also just love dante torres as a whole. he's an amazing and delicious man

forgot how amazing and quick torres is. such an on your feet thinker….

you can tell he cares soooo much too...

DEPUTY REID

Deputy Reid…yeah. seems like he's going to be a good addition, fr fr. maybe we can actually keep him

PADDY

well damn paddy. what did you do turning your off break?? cause babbbbyyyyyy, them muscles are yelling 💪🏼

[bisharp-that-likes-chips]

Can we get a reader that was born and grew up on an island/archipelago with either the main 3 or 4. For example, Philippines or Hawaii?

People in the madcom x reader section when I post

Not only that, but the boys are going on vacation or something better (also slight nsfw warning for Deimos cuz he’s a bit of a perv) Hank:

He wonders what your life what like in what is considered to be a paradise according to the majority (perhaps he’d like to go there as well)

If you offer to take him to your home country, he has so many wonders

When you first arrive at a sunny beach, he feels like he just escaped hell and what feels like to him, heaven. Oh wait.

I hope you agree with his pleas to stay (apparently, this scary ass mf tries to act all cute and gives you the puppy eyes cuz he really don’t wanna leave)

Shia LaBeouf voice: DO IT! JUST DO IT!

Sanford:

Sanford always dreamed of leaving Nevada and staying at an expensive apartment by a warm sunny beach for the rest of his life so he’s jelly

If you plan to leave Nevada with him and go to your childhood home, he’ll be the happiest man alive

He flops down on the soft hot sand and breathes out a heavy sigh. He finally had his dreams come true

He’s more playful and enthusiastic. Also splashing you with water when you least expect it and swimming around the shoreline like some professional swimmer (headcanon that this dude’s athletic. After all, he’s jacked up)

After the day ends and you’re both tired. He holds you very close to him and peppers your face with kisses. This is his way of saying “thank you” and that his love for you skyrocketed higher than Snoop Dogg

Deimos:

“Wait if you’re from an island? Could you take me there?! Please! Please! Pleeeeeeease!” (Yea Deimos is the most childlike out of the main four)

If you take him to your home country, he’ll be more ecstatic than a sugar addicted kid who drank 5 bottles of Coca Cola.

Bro saw you in your swimsuit and he’s just there staring at you and drooling like damn (his mind: Lemme smash)

He is very rowdy and wild when you guys visit the beach and he acts like a child all day until the sun sets, then he’s knocked out after his excitement rush

2BDamned:

Like Sanford, he’s also jealous. He has to work for 3 annoying, psycho men in a crazy and corrupted environment while you got to relax at a beautiful beach

If you tell him that you and him are gonna leave to go to your home, he’ll love you forever cuz he is so ready to be done with his old job for good

He has a foodgasm when trying exotic foods native to your homeland (he’s tired of eating that stale metallic mush that’s basically the only food he’s allowed to eat in Nevada), and he doesn’t take his eyes off the views of the beaches for more than 2 hours

If you rent an apartment with big cozy beds, best believe he’s holding you extremely tight when you’re sleeping with him

[cowgurrrl]

Heya. Love the work, could we please get some Joel with the twins?

Hi! Thanks for the sweet words!! I hope you like this!!

Beautiful Girls

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: oh I love them

Summary: Your first night at home with your twins

Warnings: slight description of birth complications, NICU stay :(, new parent exhaustion, mention of Sarah’s husband!!, breastfeeding, idiots in love

When Sophia and Violet are born, they're small. Of course, you knew they would be. They're twins, and they were likely to be born earlier. Besides, Sammy was small too. You thought you had it handled. Sophia is born first at a whopping five pounds three ounces. Small but not too scary. She cried on your chest the second she entered the world, her little hands feeling your skin for the first time as she got acquainted with being outside your body. But Violet weighed four pounds eight ounces, and she didn't immediately cry. Your doctor put her on your chest, rubbing her back, as the nurses suctioned fluid out of her mouth, but she was silent. You looked at Joel, terrified, before looking down at her and watched those big brown eyes open and heard her wail. You sighed in relief and kissed her head, and you thought that was it.

To make a long story short, Violet spent a day and a half in the NICU because her lung function wasn't what it was supposed to be. Chump change compared to some of the babies that have been there for months, but seeing her hooked up to oxygen to stabilize her breathing ate you and Joel alive. Meanwhile, Sophia wouldn't breastfeed because she had a lip tie which made the entire process difficult for both of you and required intervention. You both cried for a long time, bouncing back and forth between the NICU and your recovery room as you scrambled to make the best decisions for your daughters. Needless to say, by the time you're discharged to go home a whole four days later, you're both exhausted.

Sammy falls in love with the girls and takes turns holding each of them even though he barely looks big enough to hold a baby. Daisy cautiously smells the girls' heads before giving them the gentlest kiss on the cheek and lying back down. She never was very interested in Sammy when he was this small. You give it six months before the three of them are partners in crime. Sarah, Ethan, Ellie, and Dina come home to meet the girls, which is no small feat considering how busy their own lives are. Hank and Lucia are scheduled to fly in later next week to help around the house and meet their newest granddaughters. Your house is a mess, and there's basically nothing in your fridge besides dinosaur chicken nuggets and apple sauce packets, and you would stress out about it if you didn't watch the love of your life interact with the lives you created.

After the older kids settle in their bedroom and Sammy begs to crawl into bed with Sarah and Ethan, you and Joel stay in the living room where you've sat since you came home from the hospital. He's holding Sophia on one knee and Violet on the other, and he just looks at them. You don't say anything because you're watching him watch them, but you wonder what he's thinking about. You wonder if he's memorizing their features to see if they're truly identical or not. You wonder if he's remembering when Sarah and Sam were babies. You wonder what he sees when he looks at them. Does he see the way their noses curve exactly like his? Or the way their cupid's bow bends like yours? Or the way that you can already see the wavy pattern in what little patch of dark hair they have?

He's gorgeous like this. His hair is a beast from all his worried tugging and playing, and the bags under his eyes are dark even though his frames cover them. He's wearing a loose flannel so he can unbutton and do skin-to-skin with the girls if he so chooses, and his soft smile is almost gentle enough to make you forget about the pain throbbing through your body.

The trance breaks when Violet fusses and wakes up Sophia. Like clockwork, you and Joel step into action. You take Violet in your arms, already unbuttoning your shirt to feed her, as he snuggles Sophia to his chest to get her back to sleep. There's a mess of tangled limbs and caught fabric, making Violet cry in that shaky newborn tone you were so used to when Sammy was born. You shush Vi and get her latched while Joel hums a song you can't make out. In seconds, both girls are content and quiet again, but Joel is still humming. You tune into the melody and try to place it, smiling when you can, even through the baby-shaped fog in your brain.

"Are you humming Van Halen to our daughter?" You ask, and he smiles, all bright and shy. You can't help but smile too.

"Gotta start 'em young, right?"

"Whatever you say, Miller."

Being a family of seven was never on your radar when you met Joel, but now that it's here and it's real, and you're each holding a perfect baby girl while your other three kids are sleeping upstairs, you can't imagine anything else. You're almost positive you would take this as sleep-deprived and pain-ridden as you are over anything someone could ever offer you. How could you not when Joel looks at you like you made the oceans and the stars while holding one of your newborns, his wedding band catching the lamplight as he hums Van Halen to her? And you're almost positive this is what love is meant to look like— not just perfect dates or surprise flowers but the long, hard nights spent rocking babies to sleep and still finding ways to hold each other even when you're on opposite sides of the couch.

[qomrades]

welcome to season 2 of twin peaks

"you alright down there?" he is visibly bleeding out

"warm milk" THANKS MAN

"thank you" DALE STOP SIGNING HIS GRATUITY BILL YOU ARE STILL BLEED9NG OUT

first 5 minutes of this season the longest of my life oh my fucking god. Is That A Ghost.?

thank you for the omens ominous french man. are you an alien of some sort or perhaps a mason

"you will require medical attention" yeah man i think he fuckin noticed

AUDREY I FORGOT YOUR DAD IS A PERVERT

what thr fuck jerry did u kill blackie or something

SCARIEST SCENE ALIVE STAY AWAY FROM HERRRRRRRRRRRR

"i would like to make love to a beautiful woman who i feel genuine affection for" implying you haven't before 🤔 curious

dale my goofster how i missed you and your autistic cadence

oooh please don't kill ronette poor ronette

why the fuck is his hair grey. leland palmer is an insane man i am a little bit obsessed with his mental decline

and Maddy's too hello?

WHY ARE THEY DANVING INSANE MEN??

really beginning this season with the kookiest shit they could imagine

intense and insane tension between dale and albert. i don't think they've known each other carnally but i do think a part of them has wanted to

james look different this season idk why

donna and her insane winona ryder slay. why is she seducing her boyfriend in prison. i feel like donna and james are going through thr craziest teen nancy drew light spice drama investigation novel ever and everyone else is doing whatever the fuck theyre doing in twin peaks.

what the fuck is up with the jazzy ass music. "Is it not okay for me to want you" WHAT ARE THEY ON. WHY DID SHE BITE HIM

ive become so lost these last few days without the show i need to be put back in thr boiling pot

why are dale's lower eyelashes so long and luscious

why are there so many pointed shots at the terrible hospital food

why are bobby and shelly genuinely cute. all i got is questions

loving the nadine/ed/norma/hank backstory. just the kind of drama im looking for

daddy issues conversation slightly messed around by bobby's crazy eyes. no hate to the guy but his overt facial expressions and large eyes scare me on occasion

hank did you just poison bobbys dad or some shit

andy's sweethearted nature makes its return. i missed your tears king

beginning to doubt that manslaughter of hanks was quite as manslaughter as he was saying it was

what the fuck are ben and jerry's deals

AUDREY DONT TELL THE HOT EVIL LESBIAN(?) YOURE NOT INTO HER

love the beautiful presentation put on by the hayward sisters. and then we pan across the table and the doctor looks disquieted, leland looks like the fucking godfather, Sarah looks as depressed as possible and donna and Maddy are just sitting there ominously.

leland there is something so fucking wrong w you babygirl

is audrey praying to dale? girl me too

THE GIANT FRENCH GHOST MAN IS BACK

DID HE JUST CAST FIREBALL

ronette is getting possessed like the girl from thr exorcist. why is some guy there. what the fuck is happeningggggg

[poetoflawed]

The Mission

NOTE: ok so this is based on the oc that @v-cain Writes about. I love their toothless mutant-inspired reader fics and had an idea of one for one and thought i'd give it a shot.

Edit: I'm not adding more to it because i have writers block now but i hope you enjoy this drabble <3

Fandom: X-men

Warnings: Swearing (probably), fighting, hurt/comfort, fire, let me know if there's more.

Pairings: (All Platonic) Logan Howlett x gn!teen!reader, Hank McCoy x gn!teen!reader, Scott Summers x gn!teen!reader, Kurt Wagner x gn!teen!reader, Jean Grey x gn!teen!reader, Jubilation Lee x gn!teen!reader, Charles Xavier x gn!teen!reader, Erik Lenhsherr x gn!teen!reader

Finally my first mission, I'm still not where the professor would have liked for regular missions but Apocalypse isn't our regular villain. To defeat him we needed everyone, and I was one of the only people on the team who could come at him from the air. When we left we were too sure of ourselves, to cocky.

Well not anymore, the fight is raging around me, and I find myself on the ground. rocks digging into my back. I look around and there are bodies littered everywhere. Both sides of this war obviously having taken hits.

As I'm trying to get up, I let out a hiss of pain, there's a long deep gash down my ribs.

As i'm there assessing the wound i hear a voice, "Stay Down, y/n"

"Professor?"

"yes, stay down. we can handle it.."

before he can convince me I look over and see Logan rushing Apocalypse before he's caught and thrown. I watch as I see his body crumple to the ground. the fear and anger is unbridled now, I wasn't gonna let this bastard get to anymore of our people.

Against orders, I rush Apocalypse, just as Logan did, grab him with my claws, and shoot us straight up before anyone can stop us.

"You meek human, you think you can stop me?" he's taunting me, I have to ignore it and just focus on producing my fire breath.

"Was he your friend? Father maybe?" he smirks.

"Ignore him. Focus." i think to myself.

I'm pulled from my concentration as a knife is plunged into mu stomach, i start to falter and we start hurtling towards the ground however at the last moment i send my fire straight to his face.

I drop him, losing blood as i quickly approach the ground.

There’s fires raging everywhere, out of the corner of my eye I see Jean. She’s unconscious, she must have been air support. I dive for her and then everything goes black.

Third POV

Logan’s body crumples against the ground, and y/n immediately gets the advantage on Apocalypse, pulling him upward. Logan’s just getting up in time to see them fly above the clouds.

Everyone is still as they watch the sky. With the enemies slowly dropping.

“They did it…” Charles is looking up in awe and fear.

“What did they do,”

“Logan-”

“No, professor. Tell me what they did. Please.” Logan can feel his anxiety rising.

“They ended it. But not without consequences consequences. ” he said gravely, “they have little strength left.”

Jean immediately shots up to help, but is knocked out by one of the last soldiers still alive. She’s careening to the ground before everyone sees you fly out of the clouds and grab her before you smash into the dirt.

“Kid…” Logan runs over to where you fell. Wings, tail, and body wrapped protectively around Jean, who is unharmed. Jean gets up and is pulled away from you by Scott. You are left there groggy, and barely lucid.

“Kid, what did you do…” Logan’s face is set in fear,anger, and sadness.

“Is everyone ok?” Y/n asks as they breathe shallowly.

“Everyone’s fine.” The professor assures. “You on the other hand are a different story.”

“Kid. Goddamn it. Why did you do that. What did you do.” Logan is moving you of the ground to lean against him now. Their breathing to slow for his liking.

“I k-knew i could d-do it. I had to t-try.”

As he watches he notices the gashes and blood stain their suit.

“You’re fine… you’ll get better.” He’s applying pressure. But the stain is steadily getting larger.

Everyone is to shocked to move, until the professor talks.

"get them to the jet."

[bloughjobs]

RIP to my friend, Hank, who had to be euthanized yesterday.

Hank was found wandering around town last summer, presumably an escapee from a slaughter truck considering his breed, as well as size/age upon intake.

Turkeys like Hank are intentionally and selectively bred to grow as fast as possible in the shortest amount of time possible. This is, of course, to save time, money, and resources for the “farms” raising them.

After only a few weeks, these babies are already too heavy for their own bodies, and they are sent to slaughter. Yes, probably every turkey you’ve ever eaten was still a baby.

A VERY small number of these babies get *super* lucky, and despite all odds, end up at an animal sanctuary like the one I managed last year when we first found Hank. Here, they must be kept on a very strict diet and exercise regimen. Because, even though no one plans to eat them anymore, their biology still betrays their will to live and causes them to carry an excessive amount of weight that puts stress on their legs and organs.

And despite all of the love and effort their sanctuary caretakers put into improving and extending their lives, most of these birds will still die from conditions directly caused by their selective breeding… because, according to the meat industry, the only thing that matters is that these animals can stay alive long enough to reach “slaughter weight.” Whether or not the rest of their bodies can handle that weight is of no concern to an industry that views them as objects, and has no plan to see them live beyond those few weeks.

This is exactly what happened to Hank. His legs and his heart could no longer carry his weight, and despite veterinary intervention, he was no longer able to stand at the end of his life. His heart and breathing were labored, and he was suffering. Hank did not deserve to have his life stolen from him so soon… The only thing to take solace in is that he got to spend 10 whole months in the sun with friends, and got to pass surrounded by those who loved him, a much different fate than 99.9% of all other “meat birds.”

Hank was a sweet, sensitive, handsome boy full of love and hope. He would follow me back and forth all morning while I did the chores, and was never shy about showing off his feathers and strutting his stuff for anyone watching (including himself in the mirror!) He had a best friend, Timmy the rooster, that he cared for and spent all day and night with.

He was a sentient being, no different from the cat or dog you share a home with right now. No different from you or I in any of the ways that matter. We have so much to learn as a species and as individuals when it comes to what really matters in this life…

Please try to remember the individual that once carried around that weight next time you buy a package of meat from the grocery. And remember that every day each one of us has the chance to make a difference in the world through every little decision we make. Choose compassion.

[positivelybeastly]

She's kicked back on one of those fancy, overstuffed Xavier couches--shoes off, of course. Her legs dangle over the side, and she's propped comfortably on a pillow, gazing at the ceiling. A battered, paperback copy of Murder Ballads--one from Booker's library decades ago--is in her hands.

All at once, she lets out a "fuck," tossing the book onto her stomach. It lands with a little flop and rustle of cover and paper.

"I just remembered James Horner is dead."

The swear has Hank glancing up from his own book - a rather tattered but well loved copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, gifted to him by Logan a good many moons ago - and blinking at Tess. He would ask what's wrong, but he knows her answer will be forthcoming.

Tess isn't the type to misuse her swears, after all. Deploy them in a cluster pattern for maximum efficiency, or with the deadly efficacy of a long range tactical nuclear device, absolutely, but misuse? Not usually.

Then she speaks, and his face falls, too. He brings his book down and taps at the spine, thinking for a moment before sliding his bookmark into place and leaning over to take her hand and squeeze in a way that's the kind of intimate only best friends can manage.

"Have I ever told you the story of when I decided I wanted to be a scientist? I was . . . eight years old, at the time. My father brought home a copy of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan on VHS, because that was in the time period when VHS was actually dominant media and not merely an artefact of the before times. I was absolutely enraptured from moment one. The opening narration arrested me - in the 23rd century. I was in. And then, Main Title."

"Enterprise Clears Moorings!"

"Kirk's Explosive Reply!"

"Incredible track after incredible track, set to the single best Star Trek story ever told. William Shatner's single best acting performance, achieved only through sheer bloody persistence by director Nicholas Meyer. A performance of the original Spock by Leonard Nimoy that was good enough that it made him want to return to the role! But. More than anything else, it was the quiet scene in the middle of the film."

"Kirk has nearly been killed by a son he had almost forgotten he had, who is so very much like him, and yet not. Has just seen a man die, pointlessly. He believes he's been marooned on a moon, buried alive, buried aliiiive . . . he lets out a primal scream of agony. He's near the end of his rope, and then, Doctor Carol Marcus appears."

"The entire film is about . . . life, death, birth, rebirth, age, youth, revenge, letting go. And she and Kirk have this incredible conversation. I've never forgotten it, in the twenty nine years that have come since I first heard it."

He puts on his best subdued, mature William Shatner.

"'I did what you wanted. I stayed away . . . why didn't you tell him?'"

And then he shifts his voice. He can't do Bibi Besch, but he can replicate the tones of her voice, the exact moment he fell in love with what science was, with what it could achieve, with what it represented.

"'How can you ask me that? Were we together? Were we going to be? You had your world and I had mine. And I wanted him in mine, not chasing through the universe with his father. ... Actually, he's a lot like you. In many ways . . . please, tell me what you're feeling.'"

Switch back to his Shatner. It's - passable.

"'There's a man out there I haven't seen in fifteen years, who's trying to kill me. You show me a son that'd be happy to help him. My son. My life that could have been ... and wasn't. And what am I feeling? ...Old. ...Worn out.'"

There's a certain mistiness to his eyes. He clearly holds this moment very dear to his heart. These are the words. This was the moment.

"'Let me show you something ...that'll make you feel young, as when the world was new.'"

There's an uncharacteristic crack on the word young.

". . . And then she takes him by the hand, and they walk into the Genesis Cave. The hollowed out interior of an asteroid, turned into a veritable Garden of Eden. Paradise. 'You did all this in a day?' 'The matrix formed in a day. The lifeforms grew later at a ... substantially accelerated rate.' And Carol has this look of absolute pride, and honour, and accomplishment on her face.

Can I cook or can't I?"

"That, was the exact moment I decided I wanted to be a scientist. James Horner gave me that moment, with those strings and that flourish and that sense of wonder. James Horner, and Nicholas Meyer, and William Shatner, and Bibi Besch, every part of it, made me the man I am today."

There's no 'for my sins' or twinge of self-deprecation. This is a moment of pride, and surety, and happiness.

He squeezes Tess' hand again.

"Another Doctor McCoy pointed out, at the end of the film, 'he's really not dead. As long as we remember him.' So. Let's remember him together, Tess."

[simping-for-kamski]

12 Steps of Christmas - ch 2

2. Shock

“Today, we welcome a new member and a returning member into our group,” the therapist said. It was another therapist, and another group.

Leo was the returning member, and coming back felt both like an admission of defeat, and a step in the right direction. He knew he had to get through this, do it for himself this time, because he was the last one left alive. Dad wasn’t there anymore. Leo had no one left to please, and it gutted him. All he wanted was love, affection, and now, he was never getting that. All chances were gone, and he felt like it was all his fault too. Absolutely everything he’d done the night Carl died had been a succession of every worst possible choice.

In a way, it was all too surreal, and a part of Leo still thought it might all just be a very long bad trip.

He sat on his chair and blankly looked at the middle-aged man in front of him. Same unkempt silver hair and scruffy beard, sad blue eyes, old leather jacket and funky shirt. Hank had a problem with alcohol.

He didn’t speak much this time. Leo on the other hand talked.

“I stopped coming and… I guess I just didn’t see the point in trying to stay clean anymore. It wasn’t that I lacked the willpower, it’s that… nothing was changing. The stuff that drove me to this. Even when sober, my dad, he never got it—never got me . He did drugs because it was fun and artsy. He thought I was a loser for using Ice as an escape from all the shit I couldn’t deal with. And frankly… I felt like, why bother? If being high is the only way I can get a semblance of function in my life, if being sober doesn’t make me feel better… Why bother? So, yeah, I stopped coming, I relapsed, everything went to shit, I spent all of my money, got back to begging my dad for cash…” He fisted his fingers hard enough that his knuckles whitened. “I just wanted him to give me a reason to care, but…” He bit his lips. “I pushed the provocation, I got fucking mad at him and his fucking android—my own dad! He-!” He exhaled loudly and massaged his temples. His eyes were pricking again but he wasn’t about to cry in front of others. “All he ever cared about was himself, his plastic toy—that fucking machine that doesn’t feel a goddamn thing, and now… Shit.” He took a long inhale, a long exhale. “I’m not sure what even happened. Argument got heated. I fought with the android. Next thing I knew my dad was on the floor, clutching his chest, clutching that fucking android, talking to him to his last fucking breath, like I wasn’t even there, and police was there and they shot the android. I don’t fucking know.”

“Shit, mate…” one of the seniors of the group whispered—Dino. “You mean… your dad passed away?”

Leo merely nodded but held up his hand. “No condolences or sympathies, please, don’t…”

He didn’t deserve any of that.

“Have you come to take the pledge again, Leo?” the therapist asked.

Leo nodded slowly. “He’s the demon that led me into this hell and now he’s dead, so I… I guess I just gotta bury him once and for all, right?” he said and met his peers’ approval.

The session went on but Leo found himself spinning in a haze. He’d give anything for a smoke. His skin itched and he felt sweaty. He was thankful when it all ended. He didn’t feel all too well and rapidly left to join the bathroom. He just had the time to bend over the toilet before it all came down, burning acid through his throat and nose, prickling, scratching. The sounds he made were godawful and reminded him of the reason why he needed to quit the habit.

“Fuck…”

He wiped his face with toilet paper in an attempt to look just a bit representative before leaving the stall, for the sake of the other person who’d entered the room. He flushed, exited the small cabin and dunked his face with tap water by the sinks. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was still red; he looked just great .

“You’ okay?”

Leo turned to look at the guy washing his hands a sink away from him. Hank. He nodded.

“Yeah, yeah… Y’know… or maybe you don’t…”

“I know.” Hank gave him an apologetic smile. “I know what that shit does to your system. Not from personal experience, but…” He shrugged. “Sorry you have to go through this—Leo, right?” he checked the name. “It’s a brave choice you’re making.”

“I dunno nothing about being brave, man.” Leo sighed, dabbing his face with paper towels. “Head’s all a fuzz even when I’m sober. …Do you like art, by the way? Know people who like art?”

“Why you ask?”

“Got a whole museum’s worth of paintings and sculptures I need to get rid of,” Leo said.

“Your old man’s stuff?” Hank guessed. “Do you need money or—?”

“I need to get rid of it all,” Leo stammered. “It’s okay, forget I said anything,” he apologized and moved toward the door.

“Huh, yeah. See you next time,” Hank replied with a short nod.

Leo nodded back, feeling awkward as fuck. “By the way… sorry you got stuck with that plastic thing at work. I mean… Until next time.” And then a second too late: “Hank.”

READ IT ON AO3

[rejectedbad]

Rejected Bad: Digimon

The following is a rejected script from an early season of Breaking Bad.

INT. SCHRAEDER HOUSE - DAY

Hank walks into the living room, dressed in a Digimon costume, grinning from ear to ear.

Hank: "Hey, Marie! Check out my new costume! What do you think?"

Marie: "Hank, what happened to your Pokemon costume? I thought you loved it."

Hank: "I do love my Pokemon costume, but I wanted to try something different this year. Digimon is pretty cool, don't you think?"

Marie: "I don't know, Hank. Pikachu is much cuter than any of those monsters."

Hank's face falls. He stares down at the ground, then back up at Marie. His voice is serious.

Hank: "I gotta be honest with you, Marie. Pikachu doesn't do it for me anymore. I need something new in my life. Something that gets my blood pumping."

Marie: "Hank, what are you talking about?"

Hank: "I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I've decided to start selling meth."

Marie's eyes widen in shock.

Marie: "What?! Hank, you can't be serious."

Hank: "I am serious, Marie. I've seen how much money Walter has made. I could help provide for our family, finally give us the life that we deserve."

Marie: "Hank, please. This is crazy. You can't just jump into something like this. Think about the danger, think about the consequences."

Hank looks at Marie, his resolve weakening.

Hank: "I... I don't know what to do, Marie. I just feel so lost."

Marie: "Hank, don't worry. We'll get through this together. I'll help you find something that gets your blood pumping, something that makes you feel alive."

Hank looks up at Marie, his eyes brightening.

Hank: "Thanks, Marie. That means a lot to me."

INT. METH LAB - DAY

Walter and Jesse are busy moving barrels of meth around the lab. Jesse accidentally tears his shirt on a sharp piece of metal sticking out.

Jesse: "Damn it! This was my favourite shirt, man."

Walter stops what he's doing and looks over at Jesse.

Walter: "Jesse, we've talked about this. You need to be more careful. One mistake could ruin everything."

Jesse nods in agreement.

Jesse: "Yeah, sorry, Mr. White. It won't happen again."

Walter looks at Jesse with a critical eye.

Walter: "Jesse, I need you to focus. We can't afford any mistakes. The DEA is breathing down our necks, and one slip-up could get us all thrown in jail."

Jesse looks down at his ripped shirt, then back up at Walter.

Jesse: "I know, man. I'm trying, I really am. It's just hard, you know? This is a lot of pressure."

Walter puts a hand on Jesse's shoulder.

Walter: "I know it's hard, Jesse. But we'll get through this together. Just stay focused, and we'll be okay."

Jesse nods and looks up at Walter, grateful for his support. He takes a deep breath and gets back to work. Walter tightens his grip.  Hard.

FADE TO BLACK.

[fromasgardandback]

My Other Half

Jay Halstead x Reader

description: You’re engaged to Jay Halstead, but life had other plans.

word count: 1.0k

a/n: am i fixing why jesse left the show? yes. am i sad writing this, thinking about him being gone, yes. please enjoy :)

𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚂𝟷𝟶 𝙴𝟶𝟹

masterlist | oneshots

Jay Halstead. A man of few words, but facial expressions of many. The love of my life and my other half. The man who I would come to say I Do in a few months and the father of our future children. Jay is loveable and affectionate. He shows everyone just how invested and deeply he cares for them. Jay is the kind of man I had always dreamed of and the man that my grandma always told me that I deserved. Even though his parents weren’t alive anymore, they would have been proud of who he became. 

Many things happened to Jay over the years. Heartbreak, loss, physical and emotional pains. His morals and the way he policed changed over the past few years, which we didn’t know at the time, but eventually tore him apart from the inside. Jay told himself he wouldn’t end up like Voight. No matter what happened, I told him I would follow him through anything and that wasn’t going to change now. But to be honest, I was not expecting this.

I got a call from Hank saying that work had been hard with Jay. I didn’t know what to expect, but when I walked into the district and saw the look in Trudy’s eyes, I knew something bad must’ve happened.

“Trudy. Where is he?” I said walking up to the side of her desk, and whispering softly.

“Upstairs. Locker Room.” She said quietly, with a downcast face. I followed her instructions as she let me in through the code. I ran up the stairs passing everyone and going straight towards the locker room. When I walked in I saw him sitting on the bench in the back of the room, I walked towards him slowly.

“Jay?” I approached him, squatting down. “What happened, my love?” 

He couldn’t talk. He just sat there stagnant. Almost catatonic by the way he was moving. Jay’s eyes stared directly down at his hands, while they shook. I could tell it was horrific cause the only other time I saw him like this, he had a PTSD attack. I held his hands, tenderly pulling him down onto the floor with me. Leaning back against the lockers, I held him against my chest. Before I could do anything else, a quiet sob came over him. He conveyed to me what happened in the case. In detail from beginning to end. The part of the robbery, to the part of the perp dying. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, I knew this wasn’t my Jay and I knew he couldn’t have done this easily and maliciously. 

“I killed him. I just… Just went for it and couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop, Y/N. I…” Jay shakily expressed.

“We’re going to fix this, handsome. I promise this will all be okay… Whatever it looks like.” I said rubbing his back.

The best way for Jay to get out of this was to resign from Intelligence and take up a job in the Army again. This meant him being on location in Bolivia, but to be honest, anything that got him out of the situation he was in, I urged him to do it. Consequently, that’s what we did.

I walked in the front door of our shared apartment following his footsteps. I knew what Jay was thinking, but I could not let him go through with his plan alone. I told him through thick and thin, and that meant this too.

“Jay,” I said leaning against the doorframe.

“Y/N, I love you, but you cannot come with me. It’s dangerous and a job. I’ll come back for you, but I don’t know how long I’ll be.” He sighed, looking down at the bed.

“Do you seriously think that I would let you leave without me? Do you not understand that when I told you you are my other half I meant it? I love you so fucking much, Jay Halstead. You can’t get rid of me that easily. I don’t care how dangerous it is, and for you to say I’ll come back for you, are you kidding me?” I said gently grabbing his hand, and turning him to me.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you, Y/N.” He sighed. “I can’t stay here either. And I won’t risk your safety.” Jay looked me in the eyes.

“I’m not asking you to. I’m saying wherever you go, I’m going with you.” I held his face in mine. He leaned into me nodding gently. 

“I love you. But I can’t have you in my problems.” He said.

“I’m an adult. I know what’s best for me, and if I see danger and won’t commit anymore, I’ll leave. But I’m not, so understand that.” I said kissing him as if it were the last time I saw him. He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me close. We stayed leaning against the wall for another couple of minutes before a knock came on the door.

“That’s for us. Are you sure you’re ok with this?” Jay asked one more time.

“Yes, let’s go restart our lives,” I said following him out the door.

We left that day, not looking back at anyone or anything. All he needed was reassurance that life was going to be alright with his new assignment and our upcoming marriage. I told him that from this day on, we were the only ones we had, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m sorry this is the life we have now. I promised you, but now it looks different.” Jay said, whispering into my ear.

“I don’t mind, it’s an adventure now. Yes, our life is different but it does; throw us curveballs. What’s life without challenges? You are my forever, and I will never doubt that.” I said gently running my fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“My other half.” He said leaning his forehead on me.

“My other half,” I said leaning into him, kissing his lips softly that turned passionately.