#absolute catastrophe timeline

[thefunny-and-thesilly]

kinda wanna post some doodles for it so here's some really vague context on another au

Absolute Catastrophe Timeline AU (or just Catastrophe AU)

-post-canon, second summer

-time traveling incident sends old grunks to swap places with their 8 year old selves

-8 year old grunks are like "woah it's the future" and ask a million questions. Dipper and Mabel don't have the heart to tell them that they don't get a boat until they're almost 60 so Mabel impulsively lies before Dipper can do the reasonable thing and say "oh I can't tell you too much about the future it could mess things up"

-kids explore around while Dipper and Mabel try to figure out what they should do. they try time traveling but are unable to find older grunks

-while exploring around, 8 year old grunks find the portal, decide it must OBVIOUSLY lead to their boat and switch it on (older Ford fixed it and was trying to make it stable. it still isn't very stable but it runs efficiently enough that it opens a lot quicker now)

-cue Dipper and Mabel being like "wait where did they go", feeling gravity get wonky like it does when the portal is on, and run to the basement

-they manage to save Stan but Dipper ends up going through the portal with Ford.

-Mabel is now stuck with no brother and an 8 year old Stan who just ALSO lost his brother. he also finds out from Mabel that the portal does not, in fact, lead to a boat.

-Dipper is stuck in the multiverse with an 8 year old Ford and has thus ended up having to take care of a child even though he is only 13 and therefore also a child. but he's also almost 14 so is it really THAT bad?? (it is. being 14 makes absolutely no difference)

-the twins do not reunite for a very long time

-the time police can't even help bc once you're in the multiverse, you're basically separated from your universe's timeline until you come back.

-since the time police can't help, they basically end up isolating that timeline. nobody is allowed to touch it anymore it's broken. they did take any and all time travel related devices tho so. yea

this is the shortest summary I could make lol

[vigilskeep]

baffled and vexed by instalment 3 of this fic having an obvious title. does that mean i have to title the rest of them. good lord

[avelera]

thesis about the sea peoples you say? may i request an infodump about the sea peoples?

Heya!

So, basically in college (undergraduate) I got really obsessed with the questions around the Collapse of the Aegean Bronze Age, mostly because I wanted to set my big Magnum Opus historical fiction novel in that time, and the deeper I dug into the rabbit hole the more it appeared that no one, absolutely no one, actually knows why the civilizations around the Mediterranean all fell from a state of pretty sophisticated internationally-trading civilizations to literal Dark Ages (all except for Egypt which was substantially weakened and never really recovered), all at once around 1200-1100 BCE.

The Sea Peoples are the names of the only contemporary (Egyptian) account we have that names who might have been responsible if this collapse was due to an invasion. It's a popular theory because a viking-style invasion is a much sexier reason for a civilization to collapse so we all gather around it like moths to flame. But the thing is, there's a lot of contradictory evidence for and against and shading that hypothesis.

Suffice to say, literally no actually knows what happened and almost every answer comes up, "Some combination of these things, probably?"

But what makes the Collapse even more interesting from a modern perspective is that if there was a historical Trojan War (and I think there was) as fictionalized in the Iliad and the Odyssey (and Song of Achilles, for the Tumbrlistas), then it would have taken place within a generation of the entire civilization that launched the Trojan War crumbling to dust.

So like, if you're Telemachus, your dad Odysseus fights in the Trojan War, some even manage to get home, and then like... everything goes to shit. Catastrophically. And doesn't recover for 400 years.

Seriously, they lost the written word, like how to actually write things down and read them and it took 400 years to get it back. That's how fucked shit got during the Collapse of the Bronze Age.

So my thesis was asking: what if these two things were related? What if the Trojan War either led to the Collapse or it was part of the Collapse or it was a result of the Collapse? Because the timeline is so unknown and muddled that it really could be any of those and again, that's if the Trojan War isn't entirely fictional (which I don't think it is, but many academics disagree, it used to be a whole thing up until Schliemann dug it up, and many doubted it was ever a historical event even after that.)

Ok, so at the risk of writing 75 pages on this again, let me just say:

My conclusion (more of a hypothesis proposal ultimately since there are so many gaps in our knowledge) was that the Trojan War took place before the Collapse of the Bronze Age. But, it might have been launched in response to a wider breakdown in trades routes and resources, causing the Greeks to launch the campaign basically as a bid to replenish their own coffers because they were getting squeezed by what they didn't know was the first rumblings of a global domino effect.

Therefore, since taking out Troy didn't solve those larger trends and forces, they all went home and then got slammed by the REAL problem, which was all the people who had been displaced from further away by this rolling drought or invasion or whatever that was disrupting these delicate international trade routes.

But the Greeks might have been part of the Sea Peoples too! Our only record of the Sea Peoples is from the Egyptians in a highly propagandistic text which makes them sound like this big fearsome foe but that might have been because saying, "We slaughtered a bunch of desperate refugees at our border who were looking for shelter," didn't sound as cool. If the Greeks (or Achaeans or Ahhiyawa) got swept up in this slow-rolling collapse/displacement of people, then they absolutely could have been among those refugees who crashed against the shores of Egypt.

A lot of my evidence was based on looking at how Troy was sacked (it was stripped literally down the nails and there was a lot of evidence of a long-term siege, like what we read about in the Iliad) vs. how Mycenae (Agamemnon's city) or Pylos (King Nestor's city) was sacked, where they were burned and stuff was stolen but they weren't stripped, it looks more like a standard looting hit-and-run type thing. Which led me to believe that it was different turmoil that rocked Mycenae and Pylos than what led to the sacking of Troy, despite the fact these things happened within about 20 years of each other. (Helen being a made-up reason for a resource-driven war would only be the oldest trick in the book, as far as propaganda goes, after all.)

But really, the craziest detail I'll leave you with is: we just don't know! And then it gets weirder. Because the Hittites fell at the same time so the Hittites scholars say, "Nah, the Sea Peoples weren't Hittites, they were probably Greeks." And the GREEK scholars say, "It wasn't us, it was probably the Hittites or someone else. " and the EGYPTIAN scholars say, "Yeah it was someone north of Egypt, maybe the Hittites or the Greeks." and the LEVANT scholars say, "It wasn't from the Levant, we know what was going on there, it has to be from somewhere else."

Literally every single possible source of the Sea Peoples has the scholars who specialize in that location saying it's not them and it must be the guy next door.

It's maddening!

And then there's a big ol' gap around Bulgaria and the Black Sea because, oh yeah, the Soviet Union forbade archaeology in those areas to quash any local pride so those places that were behind the Iron Curtain are decades behind on scholarship that would allow them to say, "Oh hey, it was actually us! Yeah, the invaders came from Bulgaria and got pushed down by a famine." or something to that effect.

We also have some histories from the time saying that the Sons of Heracles returned not long after the Trojan War to lay Greece to waste! And it's really evocative and sounds like it fits what we've got of all these burned cities that happened right after Troy fell! Except that's in doubt now too!

The latest theory is that it was climate change that led to a massive drought. You can read about it in the latest and most popular book on the subject, 1177 BCE which I highly recommend because if it had existed when I wrote my thesis, I wouldn't have had to write it.

But I disagree with the conclusion! Or rather, I'm skeptical. Because very decade, the problems of the day have been hypothesized as being the cause of the Collapse. Like, in the 60s, there was a theory that maybe it was internal strife around a labor strike, like the French Revolution. And y'know when there's a world war, they think it's an invasion. And there was a theory that it was 'cuz of an earthquake (I think that one is nonsense, Mediterranean civilizations famously bounce back quickly from earthquakes.) And now that climate change is on our mind, I'm a little weary to see that it's the new theory because it feels way too much like we're just projecting our problems onto this giant question mark.

Was climate an aspect! I think so! I think it might have contributed to the break down in trade routes that made everyone in the Mediterranean really stressed out and hostile and warlike and led to a lot of displacement. I'm not sure if it's the only reason though and I think the book just kinda reiterates everyone else saying, "I think it was this but in the end, we just don't know, and it was probably a lot of things." which we've known for ages so it's just repeating all the same conclusions. *sigh*

... Like I said, I wrote my thesis on this so yeah, I could go on for a while lol.

[areyouwell]

Athazagoraphobia

Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of forgetting. Children or adults with this condition tend to experience nausea, raised heart rate or panic attacks when attempting to remember someone they don't.

Ch.5

Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <--

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, sexual content, talks of suicide, suicide attempt, descriptions of extreme bodily harm, needles, this chapter gets dark, reader discretion is advised

Word Count: 13.7k

A/N: i have been looking forward to this chapter for so long oh my GOD i am vibrating. this is the shit i love, although the absolute BATTLE i just fought to get this post off the ground was long and arduous so rip my formatting tumblr didn't like it :( god gives his hardest battles to his silliest soldiers. also kurt and hank are here because i felt bad leaving them out timeline WHAT TIMELINE?

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside

To say Logan hadn’t gotten much sleep was an understatement. Sure, he’d dozed off here and there, but he would jolt awake every time you held so much as a sleepy breath. He couldn’t shake the image from his mind. Seven of them. The way their heads cocked at an unnatural angle. The way they silently stared, faceless, voiceless, seemingly just watching. Waiting. The way they sank back into the shadows the moment you stirred. They must have been from you, some subconscious product of your mutation. Still, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t creep him out a little. 

Though, he didn’t know what else he expected. You could manipulate and walk through shadows. You were bound to have some creepy quirks, as well as constantly looking tired, apparently. 

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, dust mites floating in the golden beams filtering through the leaves of the various plants near your window. You’d told him a while ago you’d named them all, something about giving them a voice making them grow faster, or something else equally as ridiculous. He still didn’t quite know which one was Molly and which one was Dalia, but he could tell his Herberts from his Judases, which was a start, he supposed. 

Fucking hell he was down so bad.

You still slept soundly against his chest, occasionally a soft snore would melt his heart, or a discontented pinch of your brow only to smooth out when you nestled closer. Part of him wished neither of you ever had to move. Actually, scrap that, he wished you didn’t have to move with his whole being. He silently thanked whoever came up with the idea of Saturdays and the knowledge that the two of you could spend a lazy morning in bed without the approaching threat of teaching a class. 

Maybe he would take you out today, steal Scott’s bike and escape for one peaceful moment. There were a few lakes nearby he wouldn’t mind visiting with you, end the day at a bar or something. The image of you perched behind him on the bike, your arms wrapped around his middle, cheek resting against his back made up his mind. He was definitely going to take you out today. Get away from everything for a while. Away from teaching, training, the possibility that if you didn’t get your mutation under control you could be lost to the shadows for good…

That kind of thing. 

He gazed down at you, your mussed hair and twitching features. He loved you. Logan knew that. Two months and he was already certain. It was just saying it, he struggled with. Admitting it out loud. That’s where the problems started. It was like he was cursed, the moment he uttered those three words, some kind of catastrophe would strike and he’d lose everything for good. 

He hoped you knew. Fuck, he hoped you knew. Hoped you knew that with every waking moment, he burned to be near you, seared with the need to touch you. Even innocently. A hand on your knee, an arm around your shoulder, anything. Sure, he’d happily spend the rest of his life with his face between your thighs or his cock submerged in your cunt, but that didn’t seem realistic. And, if nothing else, Logan was a man of realism. 

A sigh escaped your slightly parted lips, eyes fluttering slightly as you started to wake. He brushed the stray hairs from your face, your features scrunching, blinking awake. 

“Good mornin’,” he smiled, and you groaned in response, closing your eyes again and hiding your face in his chest.

“No.” your response was muffled but audible, and he cocked a brow.

“Bad mornin’?”

You shook your head slightly. “No morning. Wake me when it’s midday.”

If there was one thing Logan had learnt about you, it was that you were not a morning person. ‘Too much light’ was your typical excuse, and he couldn’t say he blamed you. He used to drag himself out of bed with the promise of a strong cup of coffee before he became a teacher. He didn’t know why he was shocked to learn you were a night owl, it made a shit ton of sense considering your mutation. Though he chalked it down to the fact that your smile shone like the sun itself.

“Coffee?” He asked, and that silenced your protests. Your clock was still discarded on the floor, but flicking his wrist up in front of his face, he grinned seeing the time. 8 am. Oh, you were going to be furious. Especially since it was a Saturday. 

“What time is it?” you asked, raising your head from his chest and turning your head to your window as if the sun had personally offended you. You had half the mind to storm over to the curtains and snap them closed. If only you hadn’t been so comfortable, you’d really show the sun what for.

“A little after eight…” he said tentatively, and your head whipped back to look at him, face a picture of utter disbelief. 

“You’re fucking joking.”

“Nope, sorry sweetheart, the clock doesn’t lie.” he showed you his wrist with the time, and you groaned in frustration, your forehead hitting his chest in defeat.

“It’s a goddamn Saturday, not even Jubilee is up this early on a Saturday.” You lamented, pulling the covers up and over your head. Logan chuckled slightly, finding your detest for mornings amusing as you hid from the sun. “Fucking curtains not being closed for the fucking light to get in fucking god fucking damnit.”

“Yeah, you tell ‘em.” His hand rested on your covered head in faux protection, feeling you shift beneath the duvet, your angry huff fanning his chest. 

“I will.” He could almost hear your pout, shuffling forward to poke your head from the covers like the world’s most gorgeous groundhog, the duvet wrapped tightly around your head so he could see only your face. “Did you say coffee?” You asked, and even if you didn’t have the hope of a child being offered a lollypop dancing in your eyes, he still would have nodded. Though with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. 

Couldn’t appear too keen to bend to your every request.

“What’ll you give me for it?” He smirked, knowing full well there were very few lengths you’d go through to acquire a fresh pot of caffeine in the morning. And your narrowed eyes confirmed that knowledge. 

“I’ll suck you so hard you’ll see fucking stars.”

Logan choked on his own saliva. He didn’t know what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t that. “Fuckin’ freak…” he muttered, failing miserably at hiding his smile. You flashed him a toothy grin, knowing you had him in a box. Honestly, you’d do it anyway just for fun and maybe to tease him a little. 

Logan threw back the covers on his side of the bed, waiting for you to move so he could sit up and start his coffee-making mission. Only, you didn’t move, just blinked at him expectantly. “You gotta move, hun.” 

“Why can’t you be telekinetic, so inconvenient.” You grumbled, reluctantly releasing him from your arms and rolling onto your other side, only to huff once again as sunlight invaded your eyes. “Fucking sun!”

Logan watched with no small degree of admiration as you angrily threw one of your pillows and the window, eyes tracking the trajectory as it hit the curtain with a slight thump before falling to the floor. “You showed him.” He quipped, receiving a small kick to his side. 

You looked over your shoulder as he stood, watching his naked body shamelessly. Shit, he was so fucking hot. Your mouth almost watered as he stretched his arms above his head, his back flexing, muscles tensing. You sat up a little against the headboard, sandwiching your thumb between your teeth as he flexed his back again, and this time you knew it was on purpose.

“Enjoyin’ yourself?” he didn’t even need to look to know your eyes were on him. He could feel them, for fuck’s sake. And your maniacal little laugh confirmed it all.

“You’re nice to look at, excuse me for finding you attractive.” There wasn’t even a hint of guilt in your voice. You really were a freak weren’t you? 

Logan slowly turned to face you, watching as your eyes dragged up and down his body, your mischievous smile only widening. He cast his gaze skyward, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Ya done?”

You clicked your tongue. “Not even close. But, I really want a coffee, so I guess I am for now.” You shrugged as if you hadn’t just been fucking the shit out of him with your eyes. Logan huffed a laugh, shaking his head in fond disbelief. As if you couldn’t be any more endearing. Yes, you were a grumpy little shit in the mornings, but you were his grumpy little shit. And he had a sneaking suspicion you might feel exactly the same about him. 

You rolled your eyes as he shrugged on his singlet, pulling up his briefs and jeans before looking around the room, unable to locate his belt. He spun in a slow circle, eyes scanning the floor. He swore it had fallen with his jeans. “Have you seen my–”

Hearing the telltale clink of metal, Logan looked back at you holding up the leather by his buckle. That was not where he thought he’d left it. He raised a brow of questioning, and you shrugged again. “I had it on hand. In case…” you trailed off and his eyes widened in scandal, brow furrowed.

“In case of what?!” 

“Just, in case.” You pursed your lips in an attempt to hide your filthy grin and failed spectacularly. Logan barked a laugh of disbelief, skirting around the bed and snatching the belt from your hands, tossing it on the covers as he trapped you in his arms.

“You,” he started, before pressing his lips to yours. “Are such,” he kissed you again. “A freak.” He finished, moulding his mouth against your own in a lingering, lingering dance. You giggled into his lips, your hands finding the soft strands of his hair. “Only two months in and you already want me to tie you up?” He drew back with a smirk, just far enough to see the perversity in your eyes.

“Who said anything about tying me up…?”

He blinked. How many fucking surprises were you going to spring on him this morning? “Hate to break it to ya darlin’, but if that’s your intention then a thin strip of leather ain’t gonna cut it.” 

Your irises sparkled with the realisation that he wasn’t saying no. “Well, in that case, I’ll just have to get something stronger.” You murmured, closing the gap between the two of you once again before breaking it almost immediately. “Maybe some of those metal zip ties… or just a really thick wire. I dunno, how strong are you?”

“Real fuckin’ strong.”

Your brows furrowed in thought, and he ruffled the top of your head. “Don’t strain yourself.”

You gaped in mock offence. “So rude. Go get coffee, I don’t even want to look at you right now.”

“Weren’t sayin’ that earlier, were ya?”

“Yeah, but now your shirt’s on.” 

“Face not good enough for ya?”

“Not when it’s insulting me, no.”

“And when it’s doing this?” Logan leaned into your neck, his tongue darting out to lick along the side of your throat, teeth gently nipping at your soft, bruised skin from last night. You gasped a strangled moan, still sensitive from where he’d left his marks on you. 

“That’s more forgivable.” You breathed as he drew back, a smug smirk plastered across his face. “Go, before I drag you back into bed and have my freaky little way with you, belt and all.” You wiggled your brows and he chuckled darkly, as if anything you said could be seen as a threat. But he acquiesced nonetheless, feeding his belt through the loopholes of his jeans, securing the clasp. 

“I’ll be back in a few.” He placed a kiss to your forehead and you hummed a soft, contented smile before he turned away and headed out down the hallway. You were right, it was far too early for anyone to be awake on a Saturday. As far as he could hear, nobody was up yet, which just meant he got a good few more hours to spend with you before the rest of the mansion started to think you were either dead or missing. You weren’t a morning person, but that didn’t mean you weren’t up most mornings, just with a face like thunder. 

He loosened a contented sigh, cracking open the door to the kitchen before crossing to the kettle and flicking the switch, listening to the low hiss of the water heating up before he pulled open the overhead cupboards to retrieve two mugs, a glass one for him and your favourite one for you. Logan realised with no small degree of shame that he didn’t actually know your birthday, and come to think of it, nobody else had mentioned it either. He hoped it hadn’t already been and gone, seeing your small collection of mugs had given him the perfect idea. 

He rifled around for a bit, before locating the larger, cáfetier. It was easily big enough for two cups and then some. Popping open the steel lid to the coffee grounds, he spooned four heaps into the glass, guestimating the correct amount. Two heaps each seemed about right…

It had been too long since his biggest worry was something as domestic as how many heaps of coffee should he put in a cáfetier for two. It gave him a sense of peace, despite the events of three days ago. And with nobody else up and about yet, it really did feel like the two of you were alone in the world. 

And honestly, he’d be fine with that.

At least, it did feel like, before the fantasy was shattered by approaching footsteps. Logan groaned internally, knowing that gait and heft anywhere. He didn’t even need to turn around to know it was Scott. Why, of all people, did it have to be fucking Scott.

“Logan… I didn’t know you’d be in here so early.” His tone was curt, stunted almost as if he was allergic to being nice. Logan simply grunted, pouring the freshly boiled water into the cáfetier and placing the lid on. 

“I was just leavin’.” He responded gruffly, hooking his fingers around the two mug handles and carefully lifting the coffee pot, making for a quick escape before Scott cleared his throat. 

“I uh… Look man, I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Logan paused, giving Scott a sidelong glance, a silent suggestion for him to continue. “About what happened the other day. The Professor was right, it wasn’t the time for us to fight.”

Logan grit his teeth. “That’s what you’re apologising for? Not for suggesting we should just get rid of her?” he snarled, his fingers tightening on the mug handles. Scott sighed, running a stressed hand through his hair. 

“It’s not– It’s not that simple, Logan. She’s done this before, and last time it resulted in the death of one of our teammates. Jade was so kind. And she–”

“Loved her, yeah I know.” Logan finished, and Scott started in surprise.

“She told you that?” he asked, disbelief lacing his tone.

“I’m startin’ to think you’ve never actually had a conversation with her.” He bit, keeping his self-control intact. Though he didn’t know how annoyed you’d be if he told you he’d smashed your favourite mug over Scott’s head. 

“She was my teammate before you were, Logan. I– It’s not easy to be the one to make these decisions, or even suggest them. But sometimes we need to do things to protect other people. You know that.”

Logan nodded in confirmation. He did know that. He knew that better than anyone. “And you should know that there is nothing I won’t do to protect her. So you come at her again, spoutin’ bullshit about neutralising a threat, and there’ll be no Professor to stop me from tearin’ you apart. Got it?” He snarled, subconsciously baring his teeth. Scott sighed again. It wasn’t uncommon for Logan to threaten his life, when they first met it was almost on a daily basis. 

“I don’t want to neutralise her. I just want her under control,” he explained wearily. “Sure, the first time this happened and she killed Jade, I’d been the one to suggest that. But we were scared. We were damn terrified of her. It was only thanks to Jean that she came back.”

Logan paused for a moment. He knew Jean was keeping something under wraps. “How? What exactly did she say?”

Scott shrugged, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. “No clue. She wouldn’t tell me. She told me to ask the Professor, but we were all a little caught up in grief to ask questions at that point, and by the time we’d all managed to move on, it didn’t seem to matter anymore,” Scott paused, evidently debating his next words. “But she responded to you. We all saw that. So, what I’m trying to say, is keep doing whatever it is you’re doing. None of us want her gone, Logan. We couldn’t help her, but maybe you can.”

It was the closest thing to a compliment Logan had ever received from the man, and he honestly didn’t know what to do with it. So he nodded in silent acknowledgement. It wasn’t exactly an olive branch, but something had definitely shifted in their dynamic. But before he could contemplate it further, Scott piped up again. “I’m happy for you two, by the way. You really complement each other. Or maybe I’m just happy you haven’t been making eyes at Jean for the last two months.”

Nevermind. He hated the prick. “Go fuck yourself, Scott,” he uttered with disinterest, and if he had either of his hands free, he would have flipped him off as he left. Heading back up the stairs, Logan wondered when it would ever just stop. When everything would finally come to a halt and he could have just one day for the two of you and not think about anything catastrophic happening. Yet here he was, climbing the flight of stairs up to the third floor, contemplating your mortality. He fucking hated it. 

And he was having such a nice morning, too. 

Shouldering open the door to your room, he was greeted by an empty space and the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, steam rolling out of the small gap where you’d left the door open a crack. Maybe he could still salvage this morning after all. 

Settling down the coffee and mugs on your nightstand, he left the grounds to soak in the water before briskly stripping off his clothes, leaving them in a collected pile at the foot of your bed and slowly opening the bathroom door a little wider. It was like a sauna in there, steam fogging up the mirror, the walls sweating. You hummed a soft tune, one he recognised after a beat.

It was the same song he’d asked you to dance to. 

His heart inflated as he opened the steamed-up door to step in behind you, wasting no time in wrapping his arms around your waist to your small jump and gasp of surprise.

“‘S’just me, don’t worry,” he soothed, burying his face in the crook of your slick neck. Your hair hung limp, freshly washed as you leaned back into him, holding his arms against you.

“Mmm, was just thinking about you.” You hummed, and if Logan wasn’t already half hard at the sight of your dripping naked body, that low, sultry tone of your voice would have been enough. 

“Yeah?” he loosened his grip so you could turn around to face him, your arms slinking up his body and around his neck. “What about me?” he asked, biting back his groan as you swapped places with him, warm water cascading down his back. 

“‘Bout last night… all the things I didn’t get to do…” You teased his lips with whispers of kisses, barely making contact as you held his gaze hostage, your eyes darkening with each passing moment. He felt lightheaded already when you bypassed his mouth altogether, your teeth instantly biting down against his collarbone. 

“Like what?” he strained, his hands skirting up and down your waist, your lips trailing up the hollow of his throat, over to the side of his neck where you sucked a harsh bruise that, to your irritation, faded instantly. You knew doing it again was a losing battle, but that didn’t stop you from sinking your teeth into his flesh, feeling his rising groan on your tongue as you smoothed over the unmarked skin. Your hands braced against his chest as you rose up on your tip toes to breath into his ear.

“I wasn’t joking earlier.” Was all you muttered, nibbling at his earlobe and leaving the side of his head tingling before you travelled lower down the curve of his fuzzy jaw, back down the path you’d carved for yourself, pressing kisses down his chest, your nails lightly scratching down either side of his ribs, following the curve of his hip bone and to his hard cock. 

Logan inhaled as you took him in your wet palms, squeezing around his shaft, delivering pinches with your teeth around one of his nipples, clamping down around when you teased his already leaking tip.

“Shit…” he gasped as you sucked against his shockingly sensitive bud, the scent of your own arousal heightened in the steamy heat, driving him mad with need. Releasing him from your mouth, you giggled softly as he thrust into your grip, his hands sliding from your waist to your hair as you sank to your knees before him, making sure you kept eye contact. 

  Sticking out your tongue, you waited for what felt like an eternity to him, before you delivered a small kitten lick to the underside of his cock. His jaw fell open as he watched you, all your attention now stuck on teasing the fuck out of him, not going any further than small, short swipes. He didn’t want to push you but holy shit were you testing his self-control. 

“Fuckin’ tease.” He huffed, gritting his teeth when your malleable tongue traced one of the thick, pulsing veins down the side of his shaft. His fingers tightened in your hair, though not to move you, rather just to feel you beneath his fingertips. 

Logan’s head fell back as your lips enveloped his sensitive tip, and he realised he would happily drown in this shower if it meant you didn’t stop, water washing away the sweat from his brow, bouncing off his closed eyes. A gravelly moan bubbled from his chest, echoing slightly off the walls. “Jus’ like that, baby,” he whispered almost to himself as you took him further, your pointed tongue dragging down the underside of his cock, one of your hands pumping what you couldn’t fit, the other braced against his hip to hold him still. 

You bobbed your head slowly, tasting the distinct musk and salt of his ecstasy as you flattened your tongue, hollowing your cheeks and humming lowly. The bathroom became an orchestra of gravelly groans and airy gasps, all drowned out from the outside world by the running water. Sinking into a comfortable rhythm, you looked up at his head thrown back, one of his hands had moved from your hair to the wall as he all but leaned against it.

Opening your throat, you slipped him further in your mouth until your nose was nestled comfortably against the coarse hairs at his naval. There you held him for a moment, swallowing around his cock and he fucking whimpered at the feeling of your throat squeezing him. You gagged slightly, and Logan looked down, his jaw slack as he took in possibly one of the hottest things he’d ever seen in his over a century of being alive. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and he made to pull away to give you a moment to breathe. But the moment he shifted, your nails dug sharply into either side of his hips, holding him against you. 

He stuttered moaning of your name and you knew he was close, so you hummed around him again, the vibrations of your voice travelling his throbbing length. The hand in your hair tightened as he slowly thrust his hips into your wanting mouth, gently fucking your face. 

“Jesus Christ you feel good…” he uttered breathlessly, tensing his jaw as he approached his peak. You smiled wickedly around his cock, dragging your slick tongue down that same vein you were paying attention to earlier as he moved back, your teeth ever so slightly scraping atop his length, and it was his undoing. 

Pleasure flooded his senses, fire coursing through his blood as he went to pull from your mouth, only to have you angrily shove your head forward, swallowing again around his member as he threw his head back to embrace the stream of the shower. “Fuck, fuck!” He stuttered a long, drawn-out groan as he spilled into your mouth, painting your throat white as his hips bucked uncontrollably, the tips of his claws poking through his knuckles as he fought to keep control, stars dancing behind his eyes.

The waves of ecstasy receded with each pulse, leaving him dizzy and gasping, his head falling forward to catch his breath and steady himself. Looking up from your knees, you drew back, leaving a lingering kiss on the head of his cock, your hands gently squeezing his thighs. 

“You okay?” You asked, rising to your feet, palm softly cupping the underside of his jaw and moving his face to look at you. He was stunned, dazed almost, as he wordlessly searched your eyes for an answer to a silent question. You laughed a little, and he drew you in with a thumb and forefinger pinching your chin, claiming your mouth with his lips in a delicately passionate kiss. The way he tasted himself on your tongue almost had him hardening again. 

“You almost suffocated yourself and you’re asking if I’m okay?” he asked with subdued disbelief, and you grinned wildly. 

“You seemed out of it for a moment, wanted to make sure I didn’t kill you.” You responded with airy innocence, and Logan huffed a laugh.

“Murder attempt number two. Not a great track record, huh?” He teased lightly, and you narrowed your eyes at him. But before you could come up with some witty retort, he sank to his knees before you, throwing a leg over his shoulder so bruskly you had to steady yourself against the wall. “Fuck you’re so hard to ignore when you smell this fuckin’ sweet, darlin’.” He murmured, before wasting no time in devouring your cunt until you were whimpering his name and gushing all over his tongue. 

Consider the morning salvaged.

“This is going to be insanely strong coffee.” You called from the bedroom as Logan dried his hair with a spare towel, draping it across his shoulders before padding out the join you. “Someone didn’t want to leave the shower.” You shot pointedly with a small grin. He simply shrugged in response, trying not to be too disappointed that you’d thrown on a baggy t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs. 

“Not sure how I’m to blame for that.” He crossed the room to stand behind you, towel wrapped dangerously low around his hips and circled his arms around your waist, setting his chin atop your head. “You started it.” 

You leaned back into his chest, basking in the warmth of his embrace. It was these little moments of soft domesticity that you craved with him. Yeah, the sex was great. Mind-blowing, in fact, and teaching and training with him was a fantastic excuse for the two of you to spend time with each other, but it was these moments you valued. Swaying in the kitchen to whatever song blared from the radio, your head resting on his lap as you dozed off to some shitty reality tv-show, or vice versa. These were the moments you’d remember when you were old and grey and he was–

Still looking gorgeous and young. Fuck, you hadn’t thought about that. How had that only just occurred to you? You pushed the thought into the furthest corners of your mind. Now was not the time to be entertaining such things. 

“Why did you take so long, by the way? I was halfway through the intended length of my shower by the time you got back.” You asked, mourning the loss of his contact as you went to pour the coffee into the two mugs, your heart expanding when you saw he’d picked your favourite one. The one Kitty gifted you. 

“Ran into Scott in the kitchen…” You snorted at the irritation in his tone, clearly not a fond memory. 

“What’d he have to say for himself?” A hand extended behind you, clasping the top of the glass mug between your fingertips as you handed it to him, pouring yourself a mug of your own before you turned to sit on the bed.

“Thanks. He was just runnin’ his mouth, to be honest with ya. Though he did apologise, which felt weird.” Logan returned to his side of the bed, sitting up against the headboard and raising his arm as a silent request for you to join him. You shuffled closer, ducking beneath his arm and cosying into his side, making sure to hold your full mug of coffee steady. 

“He did? What for?” 

“We argued the whole training thing. He was apologising for the timing of it.” 

You snorted a laugh into your mug. “Trust Scott to apologise for the thing that mattered least. But it’s a start, I guess. He say anything else?”

“Not really. Said he was happy for us and that we complemented each other, which also felt weird.” He didn’t think you’d be thrilled about the Jean comment, so he left that in the past like he had his feelings for her. 

“Huh. Strangely nice of him.”

“‘S what I thought.” 

You sipped on your drink, pleasantly surprised it was still warm, savouring the bitter-roasted flavour. “Yeah, a little too long, think the beans are a bit burnt, but it’s still good.”

“How’dya know the beans are burnt?” 

“You can taste it. Or I can. I was a barista for a while, dontcha know?”

He raised a brow. No, he didn’t know that. “How many jobs have you had?” He asked, impressed that you had such a wide range of skills. You thought for a moment, it was actually a pretty good question. 

“Ya know what? I have no idea. What’s funny is that I never remember quitting them either. I’d just wake up one day and bam! New job. I guess I liked to bounce around a lot. Still do.” You elbowed him, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively and he groaned in exhaustion. 

“Terrible.”

“You liked it.” You stuck out your tongue and he huffed in amusement. Yeah, he did. And he wasn’t about to deny it.

Logan paused for a moment, knowing the next topic he wanted to talk to you about was likely going to be a sensitive one. You hadn’t told him for a reason, and if you didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t push you, but he wanted to let you know that he knew. “Can I see your wrist…?”

Predictably, you shot from his side, muttering a curse as your coffee sloshed from your mug and onto your hand. It wasn’t like you’d made an effort to hide your scars, it was more that you banked on the fact that people, generally, were too afraid to ask. But you should have guessed Logan of all people wouldn’t shy away from something like that. Not where you were concerned anyway. 

Tentatively, you set your mug down on the nightstand, turning back to him and offering one of your wrists. He did the same, shifting to set his own mug down before slowly taking your outstretched hand in his own, inspecting the deep, faded scar with the pad of his thumb. “When?” He asked gently.

“Years ago. It’s all kind of a blur really, and I don’t remember much of it. I just– I was terrified of being a mutant and couldn’t see a way out. I think my brother found me, and took me to a hospital. I don’t know why they’re still there, honestly. I’ve used my mutation countless times since, but I guess scars are as part of the mind as they are the body. Or something like that.” It was the only explanation you had for the marks littering your body, not just the ones on your wrists, but your chest, thighs, and neck. You were a scrappy kid, always picking fights with the wrong people. 

Logan brought your wrist up to his lips, ghosting featherlight kisses down the raised line. “I’m so sorry.” He murmured, and your heart bled. He had nothing to apologise for, you hoped he knew that. 

“‘S’okay. I… learned to accept what I am. Rowan helped me with that. That’s his name, don’t know if I ever told you. After he was done being mad at me, that is. Not that I blame him. I don’t know what I would have done had the roles been reversed.” 

“You got on well, didn’t ya?”

You sighed. “Yes and no. We did when we were kids, but as we got older we started to drift apart. I think the grief over our parents changed him, and he got more cautious, whereas I got more reckless. We would fight a lot, but that didn’t mean I loved him any less. I just wish I could remember what our last argument was about. We were so fucking mad at each other, I left and deleted his fucking number.” You huffed a sigh of past frustration, turning to retrieve your mug of coffee. 

That was news to him. He didn’t know your parents had died. He knew they weren’t around during your teen years, but he didn’t know they’d died. But the way you just casually mentioned it told him it was a topic that didn’t need discussing right now. 

You settled back against him, his arm draping over your shoulders, your head dropping to the dip in between his collarbone and neck as silence settled back over you. You appreciated the way he didn’t press you for more. You doubted you’d be satisfied with such a brazen explanation, and you knew he most likely had more questions for you, so when he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, you smiled against his skin. 

“‘M gonna take you out today.”

“Like on a date or with a gun?”

You felt his snort of laughter against your cheek. “Have you always been this dark?”

“I’m a shadow weaver, comes with the territory.” You responded nonchalantly. 

“‘S that was you’re calling yourself now?”

“Nah. I still kinda like Phantom. But who knows, maybe I’ll change my mind someday.” You raised your head to take another sip of your coffee, grimacing as the liquid had gone from piping hot to lukewarm.

“On a date, dumbass. Thought we could get away for a while.” He brushed a strand of your hair back from your face, smoothing over your eyebrow with his thumb. 

“What’d ya have in mind?” You asked, leaning into his touch a fraction. 

“Take a drive, head to one of the lakes in the area, grab a drink after. Things normal couples do.”

You huffed in amusement. “We’re not a normal couple, Lo’.”

He smirked slightly. “Yeah, I know. You’re a freak.”

“And you’re not? Mister ‘I can smell your arousal and it gets me going’.” You poked the centre of his chest and he flicked your forehead in retaliation. 

“You up for it?” 

“I get to spend the day away from the kids and visit a super scenic lake with my second favourite mutant in the mansion? Followed by an evening of drinking in a bar? You might as well have asked me to marry you here and now.” 

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, we’re n– wait second favourite?”

You nodded, looking at him like the answer was obvious. “Well yeah, Kitty bought me my favourite mug so she reserves favourite person rights.” 

“S’that how it works?”

“Bit slow on the uptake aren’t ya?” Logan pushed you off him, careful not to shove you too hard so you spilt any more coffee on yourself.

“I take it back. We’re gonna spend the day here.” You gasped dramatically, setting your drained mug to the side before trying to cosy back up to him, only for his arm to hold you at bay.

“I lied, I lied! You’re incredibly smart and quick and my favourite person I’ve ever met ever!” You exclaimed through fits of laughter as you tried to fight through the wall of sinewy muscle. 

“Didn’t hear ya. Come again?” He held you off with one hand, the other effortlessly raising his mug of coffee to his lips. It was a testament to his strength how he could keep you back with just one arm.

Maybe metal cable ties weren’t strong enough after all…

You conceded, flopping down onto the pillows next to you, bubbles of laughter still popping from your chest. “When do you wanna leave? What time is it actually?” you asked, taking him by the wrist only to see he wasn’t wearing his watch. Must have taken it off to shower.

“Lemme check, hold on.” Logan leaned down off the bed where the poor alarm clock still lay completely abandoned, retrieving your lamp at the same time and setting them both on the nightstand. “Just gone nine. Leave in an hour? I think it’s roughly three hours by car, but Scott’s bike shaves off at least half an hour so…” He shrugged with a cheeky grin, and you laughed at the mischief in his eyes.

“Gives us around six hours to ourselves, minus the journey. Sounds perfect to me.” Being unable to withstand a lack of physical contact with you for any longer than three minutes, Logan lifted his arm for you again, and you returned to the home you’d built next to his heart.

“We should get out more…” he lamented softly, his hand holding your shoulder, thumb stroking your soft skin beneath the short sleeve of your t-shirt. 

“If we had the time, that would be great.” You sighed, feeling his slight despondency. If only your circumstances had been different, and you were just a normal couple that could do normal couples things. But now, you had to teach younger mutants how not to accidentally kill the wrong people, and how to effectively kill the right people. Not only that, but you had to train to ensure you didn’t accidentally kill yourself in the process.

Fuck’s sake.

A fist knocked at the door three times, and you braced for Kitty to simply let herself in. But the longer the silence after lingered, the surer you became that, whoever was on the other side of the door, wasn’t Kitty.

“Come in!” You called, not making any efforts to obscure either yourself of Logan. The whole mansion knew by now, it wasn’t like you were trying to keep it a secret. The door opened to reveal Ororo, her white hair neatly tied back from her face. 

“Morning! Just wanted to– oh. Hey Logan…” she eyed the two of you suspiciously and you shared a glance with him. The fact he was only dressed in a towel and you in a loose tee and boxer briefs didn’t exactly help your case of innocence. “Right… anyway, I guess this saves me two trips. Xavier has a conference in Connecticut, Jean’s going with him. They’re giving a talk on starting up a new school for both mutants and humans to start coexisting, so you’re both on babysitting duty.”

Your heart sank. “What the hell are you and Scott doing?!” You asked accusingly, sitting up from Logan’s chest. Storm’s brows pinched like she seemed genuinely remorseful this was how things had to be.

“Tying up some loose ends for Kurt and Hank before picking them up. They’ve been away for a while now, but they’re back today. That and Scott has some errands to run, so we’ll be back late.” She explained sheepishly, and you groaned in frustration. The one day off you thought you could have and you’ve been stuck with babysitting.

The gods really like shitting in your dinner, don’t they?

“Alright… but you owe us.” Logan piped up, and you whipped your head to him in exasperation. He read your face instantly. ‘Are we really going to do this?’

‘Like we have a choice.’ he silently communicated back, and he knew you’d understood what he’d said when you sighed heavily, dragging a hand down the side of your face.

“Fucking fine, but Logan’s right, you owe us. And I was wondering where those two had got to, how long’ve they been away?”

Ororo loosened a breath of relief. “Thank you. And next Saturday? All your’s, I promise. As for Kurt and Hank, around a year or so? Xavier sent him off on a private mission not even we knew about until a couple months ago, just before you came back. We’re going to pick them up just to make sure they get here safely.” She didn’t seem too confident about wherever Nightcrawler and Beast had been.

“That dangerous, huh?” As if the mere mention of a dangerous mission set him on edge, Logan’s arm wrapped back around your shoulders protectively. Neither of you had been required for one since your return, and he was honestly dreading the day. 

“Kurt’ll explain more when he gets back I’m sure, but yeah, that dangerous. Hank doesn’t like to go on missions like these, but apparently, Charles needed his diplomatic expertise and Kurt’s quick getaways, so who knows?” Ororo shrugged, before looking pointedly at Logan’s bare chest and then your bare legs. “Do I even wanna know what you guys were up to before I knocked…?”

You laughed, waving off her concerns. “Having a coffee and chatting about the day we did have planned before being landed with babysitting duty, nothing exciting don’t you worry.”

“Unless you wanna talk about the shower…” You shot Logan a scandalised look, mouth and eyes wide in utter shock.

“Ew, no, I’m good, see you later.” Ororo shielded her eyes as she left as if she could unsee the mental image Logan had just planted there. As soon as the door shut you smacked his arm with the back of your hand.

“What was that for?”

“Did it look like she was gonna leave anytime soon to you?” You took a moment to think about it, and Logan’s expression shifted to self-satisfaction. “Exactly.”

Well, you couldn’t argue with that. You offered him a little, defeated smile. “Guess our day off will have to wait.”

He leaned forward, tucking you into his side before relaxing back against the headboard. “I’ll take you out soon, ‘kay? Promise.”

“Like, on a date or w–” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before he clapped his hand over your mouth, stopping you midway through.

“Enough. It wasn’t funny the first time, why did you think it would be funny again?” 

You stuck your tongue out to lick his palm, a foolproof method of removing someone’s hand from your mouth. Or, at least it had been foolproof in the past. But you raised your eyes to his face, and he looked at you with disinterest. “Not gonna work, firefly.” 

You adored that nickname. He never explained where it came from or why he started it, but it didn’t matter to you. As long as he never stopped. 

Thick black boots pounded the floorboards as you raced through the hallways of the mansion, vibrations humming up your legs with every step, your breath like fire in your lungs. Shouts and screams echoed in every corner, flashes of torchlight illuminating cones of white against the walls like searchlights. The Professor was away. Why was the Professor always fucking away?

Sliding to a halt as you heard footsteps around the corner, you quickly slipped into the shadows, hushed voices muffled as if underwater as you jumped to the ceiling. Light separated the shadows, and four silhouetted figures walked cautiously beneath you. You could make out the outlines of their guns as the torch shifted before the hallway was again drenched in darkness as they continued their search.

Morphing to the floor, you reformed from the black, stealing a quick glance behind you to where they’d disappeared. There were no students that way, Logan and Scott had made sure of that. The moment Logan had sensed something was off, the evacuation had begun, escorting the students silently from their beds and through the hidden channel behind the panel wall. You knew there were stragglers, but you focused on the knowledge Ororo and Kurt were with them.

How had things gotten so out of hand so goddamn fast? You’d woken up on Logan’s chest this morning feeling like a whole new mutant, comfort wrapped around your heart like an embrace. Now, the opposite couldn’t be more true. You cursed the fact that Jean followed Xavier around like a lost soul. You could really use her help right about now. 

A piercing, shooting pain rushed through your head as you clamped your hands down over your ears, crouching to the floor. Your eardrums throbbed as you recognised that ability, gut knotting at the realisation that Theresa was still inside somewhere, her sonic scream sending waves of agony through your mind before it stopped abruptly. Fuck.

With a new sense of urgency, you sprinted through the entrance hall, taking the stairs two at a time. If you’d been a little more focused on your surroundings and less hellbent on saving the girl, perhaps you would have noticed the line of guns pointed in your direction. One moment you were racing full speed down the first-floor hallway, the next you’d frozen solid as torches flared simultaneously, erasing any easily accessible shadow. You braced, knowing after they “killed” you, they’d turn away and leave you to sink into the darkness and reform. 

But they held fire, your strained pants the only sound in the eerie silence of the bedroom corridor. 

“They were right…” you whipped your head back to the voice behind you, knees bent in anticipation as two figures stepped from the room you knew to be Jubilee’s, and you prayed to whatever sick, twisted gods above that Logan or Scott had got to her first. The torches behind you revealed a man you thought to be in his thirties, a pair of thick, round glasses perched on the end of his crooked nose. He was taller than whoever was next to him and unnaturally thin. “We missed you dearly.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Come again?” You spat, eyes darting between the two.

The man just laughed heartily, opening his arms as if offering you a hug. “Of course, how could I be so rude? I’ve read the reports… Subject Five, if you could be so kind.”

Panic surged through your body as Subject Five stepped forward, a golden glow emanating from beneath its clothes. Your eyes closed instinctively as the hallway lit up as though the sun had risen, your hands flying to shield your face. 

“That’s a bit better. You look good, Eight, but you always were the resilient one.” You were barely listening, still caught up in the dawning revelation that you knew that mutation. You’d know that mutation anywhere. “We’re here to take you home. Subject One isn’t here, sadly, so I’m afraid you’re just going to have to take my word for it, but we really have missed you.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” you managed to grit, your eyes adjusting to the light as you cracked them open a little.

“I have to say, when I received word you were a teacher now, it almost made me laugh. You hated kids! Why on earth would you surround yourself with them? But then it dawned on me. A mutant school. If only my great-grandfather had thought of that at the start.” He continued as if you were engaging in nothing but a pleasant conversation in the park.

“Ya know, for someone who talks so much, you really are saying very little.” you quipped, finding a nugget of solace in the fact that this man didn’t want you dead, at least as far as you could tell. “Let’s start with introductions, yeah?”

He chuckled again. “You’re absolutely right. My name is Doctor Kreva. This man here, why you should already know him, even without Subject One to help out.” he was almost condescending in his tone, and you hated the fact he was right. You did know the mutant. And your heart bled for him. What the fuck was he doing here? Why was he raiding the school with this chucklefuck?

“Means nothing to me. The fuck do you want?” you snarled, to his further amusement.

“Were you not listening, darling? We want to take you home. My father was so stupid for letting you go,” it was the first emotion you’d seen on his face beyond sadistic joy. His eyes filled with frustrated hatred. “He never had the stomach for science. And after Seven somehow managed to kill my mother, a problem you so kindly took care of, he started to pity you all.” He spat like the word was venomous before he took a breath of collection. “Seven years it’s taken to track you all down and rebuild what he destroyed. Seven long years. But we’re nearly there. All we’re waiting for is you.”

Your breath got stuck in your throat. Seven years ago, you and Jade were picked up by Jean and Ororo on the side of that highway. How could he possibly know any of this? “You got the wrong gal, sorry bub.” Oh, you’d been spending way too much time with Logan. Dr. Kreva sighed, holding out his hand expectantly. Like a king’s attendance, one of the guards stepped up from behind you, making sure to keep his shadow far from your reach, before he slung a heavy pack from his shoulder, dropping it into Kreva’s waiting hand. 

The doctor took a knee, removing one of the thickest folder’s you think you’d ever seen, and holding it up. It was old. Incredibly old. Whatever colour it had been originally had faded to a pale grey, the edges frayed and splitting. He placed it on the floor face up, and your eyes caught sight of a label, though it was too far away for you to read accurately. 

“Everything you think you know is a lie, Phantom. Didn’t you think it strange your memories are jumbled? Important moments of your life scrambled or forgotten. Loose ends never tied, arguments never resolved? But this, this holds everything. Your entire life, in one folder. All eighty-two years you were with us.”

You scrunched your face, slightly offended. “I’m thirty-two, asshole.” You spat back, your skin starting to burn under such intense lighting, those threads in your body begging to be released into the shadows to escape. 

“So that’s the age he decided before releasing you. Interesting. Well, I’ll have Subject One rectify that when you’re back with us. Tranq her. Now. Subject Three, begin evacuation.” Before you could even turn around to defend yourself, a sharp pain spiked the side of your neck. You froze, blood draining from your face as you realised you’d been pierced with a needle. Heartbeat rising, you fought the urge to throw up. You didn’t know where your fear stemmed from, but you assumed it was when you were taken for blood tests as a child.

If… if that even happened. Because if you were to believe anything this dickwad said, maybe you didn’t even have a childhood. 

Your vision started to swim, and you angrily blinked the grogginess away. “Rowan… wh– what’re y– what’re you doing…?” You could barely finish the sentence as the tranquiliser entered your bloodstream, taking quick effect on your mind as you struggled to stay upright, your knees buckling as you threw your arms out to catch yourself. Shadows. You needed a shadow. But there was nothing to morph into. Nothing you could reach to rid yourself of this feeling. Everything became muffled, as if you were underwater, only barely able to hear a gut-wrenching roar before your vision went dark, and you were out cold. 

Logan raced up the stairs, fury pumping through his blood. He’d been looking everywhere for you, crashing through doorways and slicing through skin and muscle to find you. Hank had mentioned he’d seen you sprinting toward Theresa’s room after she’d screamed, and he didn’t wait to hear the rest of what he’d said before he took off at a run. He crested the first flight just in time to see three figures halfway down the lit hallway, obscuring your unconscious body. He didn’t even take a minute to acknowledge the light was emanating from the figure on the right, rather than the lights themselves. The man in the centre turned just as Logan bellowed a cry of pure, unadulterated rage, offering him a curious tilt of his head before the one one the left took hold of each other their shoulders, and they disappeared before his eyes.

He didn’t care. They were gone and you remained. That was all that mattered. Racing to your side, he saw the cause of your condition, pulling the tranquiliser out from your neck and cautiously lifting you into his lap, checking your pulse just to be sure. 

You were alive. Your heart was still beating. He almost shook with relief. 

“It’s okay, I got you firefly, I got you.” He soothed, brushing your hair back and cradling you against his chest. “You’re safe now. You’re okay.”

“Logan?” He turned his head back down the hallway, heightened sight able to make out Kurt and Scott by the stairs, Kurt wringing his hands with worry. “Is she–”

“She’s fine, just out cold. Theresa’s still in her room if you wanna make sure she’d okay.” He gestured to the room a few doors down, and Kurt jogged passed him, pausing as he saw the file on the ground. 

His eyes widened slightly, gaze flickering from the file name to your unconscious form, then back again, before looking at Logan. Crouching down, he flipped the folder so it was facing him, before continuing to Theresa’s room.

Logan froze as he read the scrawled, ink-smudged handwriting on the front of the file, his blood turning to ice in his veins. 

NLMO. Subject Eight. “Phantom”.

Logan paced as he waited outside the med-bay, chewing at the cuticles of his thumb. Scott, Jean and Charles were having a heated debate in the room to his right, he could hear raised voices even with the doors closed. Ororo and Kurt had chosen to wait with him, Kurt crouched against the wall opposite and Ororo fixed her hair every two minutes. A nervous twitch, he noticed.

Since Jean was currently held up in the furious discussion, Hank had offered to perform the routine checkups on all the mutants they’d managed to tranquilise, yourself included. It had been four hours since the attack, and he still hadn’t shown his blue furry face. Then again, there were quite a few students who’d been targeted, not just you. 

The meeting to his right went quiet before the doors slid open and Scott stormed out, a face like thunder. Logan couldn’t blame him, he had his own anger on a tight leash, simmering just below the surface. What the fuck was going on? Who the hell were you? Did Charles know about this? Did Jean? Was that why she’d been so strange lately after the training incident? The idea of the two of them knowing and not telling anyone made him want to tear apart the whole fucking mansion, and it seemed Scott was on the same wavelength as him for once. 

“Scott wait!” Jean called after him, running after the furious man, but not before casting Logan a cautious glance. He just glared at her in response, before she hurried to catch up with Scott.

“You should have told me, Jean. I’m supposed to lead this goddamn team, how can I do that without knowing who I’m dealing with. No wonder she can’t control her fucking mutation, and I’ve been made to look like a monster for wanting the situation sorted when you knew about this the whole time!” He heard Scott rage, and it was the first time he’d actually heard him raise his voice to her. It would have almost been refreshing if he hadn’t just answered one of Logan’s most burning questions. 

She did know about it. Oh, he was going to have a little chat with her later about that. 

There was a beat before Charles wheeled from the room, his face a grim picture. He loosened a breath upon seeing the three of them still waiting, his eyes lingering on Logan, the file held in his lap. Logan grit his teeth.

“Did you know?” Was all he asked, and Charles said nothing, moving his gaze to the med-bay doors. That just pissed him off further. “Did. You. Know?” he spat every word like venom, balling his fists in an attempt to keep his anger in check. 

“Yes,” Charles replied softly, as if speaking any louder would set him off. But Logan didn’t need him to raise his voice. That was all he needed to hear for his trust in the Professor to shatter completely. “Some memories are better off forgotten, Logan. You of all people know that.”

“Not her entire life!” He clamoured, causing both Ororo and Kurt to jump a little in surprise. He took a deep breath. It wasn’t their fault. They were as in the dark as the rest of the team. Except, it seemed, team telekinesis. “What’s in that folder, Charles? And tell me honestly. No more bullshit.” He seethed, though, to his subconscious surprise, Xavier held the file out to him. 

“That’s for you to find out. If you wish. But I’ll warn you, Logan. Nothing in that file is good. Nothing is happy. Everything that’s happened to her in the last eighty years or so.” He explained sombrely, and Logan didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or scream. Eighty years? How was that possible? You were thirty-two. You’d said so yourself. None of this made any goddamn sense. How could you just forget the fact you’d lived at least eighty years of your life? As if Charles had read his mind, which he most likely had, he spoke up again. “A powerful mutant with a focus on memory altering known as Subject One, or Obscurity. From what I could gather, he could alter and re-alter memories, planting ones that never existed and pushing those that deep to the farthest reaches of their minds. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best they had at the time.”

The best they had? The best they had? Logan wanted to punch something. Or someone. Preferably someone bald and in a wheelchair. But he refrained himself when the doors behind him whooshed open, and Hank stepped through. 

“All stable. Took a little longer than I thought it would. I think Jones will be out for another few hours, maybe a day or so. The poor little guy barely sleeps as it is, so a tranq knocked him for six.” Hank explained before sensing the tension in the room. Logan said nothing, almost knocking Beast to the ground as he breezed past him, uncaring as he was once again greeted by yet another sight of you lying unconscious on a metal table.

This was becoming a bad habit of yours.

“She should wake within the hour. The tranqs weren’t too strong, only designed for short knockouts rather than extended periods of unconscious.” Logan was barely listening, his heart clenching as you slept peacefully, hooked up to another fucking machine. How many of these have you been hooked up to in your life? How many other machines have you been monitored on? Was that how you received the scars? Or had that part of your story been true? Did you know anything about this? Or had you been lying to him the whole fucking time?

He had too many questions for you, but he knew how he could answer them. He extended a hand behind him. “Hand me the file.”

“Logan, you should–”

“Hand me the fucking file.” His arm shook impatiently, and there was a beat before Ororo took the folder from Charles and placed it in his waiting hand. Christ, it was hefty. Though, he supposed there was eighty years worth of information within its pages. Storm hovered next to him, sparing him a worried glance as he opened the first page. 

Well, any hope that it was another Phantom was quickly dashed as the faded type described you perfectly. From the texture of your hair and the colour of your eyes to the size of your feet and the length of your legs. His heart caught in his throat as he flipped a few pages, hearing Ororo’s gasp of horror next to him.

4th September. 1932 Ex.3 – 12 pm - 9 am. Deprivation / Indulgence Subject 8. “Phantom” / Subject 5. “Solaris” Observer: Doctor R. Kreva.

Removed all objects from Sub.8’s and Sub.5’s observation chambers, and installed flood lighting on all surfaces. Sustain peak lighting in both chambers for 24 hours and record findings. Since 8 and 5 have similar DNA, they have both been selected for this experiment. Their mutations, whilst similar, are opposites. Two sides of the same coin. Will repeat experiment with darkness at a later date. 

Hour 1 – No change in any subjects. Sub.5 seems extremely content with the change of atmosphere, it’s skin emits some kind of glow similar in colour and frequency to the light around. 

Hour 2 – Still no notable changes. Sub.8 raised its head to look around the chamber, perhaps seeking refuge from the light. Only movement in the last two hours.

Hour 5 – Sub.8’s behaviour has become noticeably erratic, its eyes flickering all around the room, has yet to make a move. Sub.5 has remarkably begun creating its own lights, I have included a sketch of my findings below.

Hour 8 – Due to the lack of shadows, Sub.8’s movements have become peculiar. At times, fast and frantic, searching the room for refuge, whereas other times it would be slow and sluggish, barely able to lifts its head to look around. 

Hour 10 – Much the same as Sub.8 in the dark, Sub.5 had disappeared completely. We can only assume, due to the similarity in their DNA, that Sub.5’s body has disintegrated into the light. Sub.8’s vitals are spiking and dipping seemingly randomly. Its body lags when it moves, almost glitching into shadow with every movement. Is this the molecules trying to release?

Hour 17 – Sub.5 has returned, its hair is now elevated above its head and its eyes no longer resemble that of a human’s. Where there should be an iris and pupil, there is now nothing but smouldering light. Sub.8 has begun writhing, parts of its body disintegrating and reforming where it lies. Is it in pain? 

Hour 19 – Sub.8 has started to scream. It’s interesting. With every breath, its entire body shudders as if trying to phase through the fabric of light itself, like Sub.5 can do. Its fingers bleed from frantically clawing at the ground and blood is leaking from its nose. Will need a cleaning crew in hereafter. In contrast, Sub.5 Is now levitating approx. 5 inches from the ground. 

Hour 20 – Sub.8’s condition has rapidly declined in the last hour, its skin seems to have veins of black spiderwebbing across its face, hands and feet. Must make notes to strip both subjects next experiment, but for now I must assume this continues across its body. 

Hour 21 – Sub.8 has ceased all activity and now lies motionless. Vitals have dropped well below human sustainability, heart rate of 20 BPM, and blood pressure of 90/60 mmHg. How is it still alive? Sub.5 has begun wielding the light from its body. It seems as surprised by this as I am. It has been able to form duplicates of itself, objects, and what could be interpreted as a pair of wings. Could Sub.8 be capable of such things?

End of Hour 21 – Leaving the lights on for 24 hours would most likely be the death of Sub.8. With the slow decrease of light intensity, Sub.5 settled back to the floor, its eyes dimming before returning to what we shall now call the default state. Sub.8 remained motionless for another 2 minutes and 42 seconds before their body disintegrated. Interestingly, it couldn’t disappear before the lights were off completely. Saved footage of Sub.8’s disappearance, the infra-red camera pinpointing the moment its body broke apart. Fascinating. Placed them both back into the observation house, and monitored them for the next few days. Sub.5 is already up and around, behaving regularly. Sub.8 still rests in bed. How will this affect its interactions with other subjects?

Ex. Duration: 21 HOURS Ex. Outcome: Success Findings: See above. Memory erased: Last 21 hours Replacement memory: Cooking lesson, NLMO bonding Comments: Must remember to use the same memory for Subjects 2,3,4,6 and 7

Logan felt sick, bile rising in his throat as he blew out a shaky breath, checking the date three times to ensure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Ororo whimpered a small sob next to him, her eyes scanning the page, her hand covering her mouth in utter devastation. Kurt looked between the two of them, not knowing if he wanted to be involved in whatever horrors lay within that folder. 

He couldn’t stop reading, some pages had notes about the life they made you believe you were living, a simulation world with the other seven, not dissimilar to the danger room. Only, every time you ‘went out on an errand’, or ‘went to work’, it was just a replacement memory for when they pulled you out for experimentations. Those were the pages that had shattered his very soul. What they did to you… How could they have been getting away with this for so long?

He continued flicking through, thumbing stacks of pages at a time before he settled on a less faded sheet, dated much more recently. He only read the first line before Ororo looked away, her head in her hands, Kurt bamfing next to her to hold her as she sobbed.

22nd September. 2008 Ex.1,243 6 pm-6:50 pm Pain Tolerance / Resilience Subject 8. “Phantom” Observer: Dr. J. Kreva

It has been noted that Sub.8’s tolerance for pain is exceptionally high. It can easily disappear with surface-level wounds and reappear as good as new. I want to test its durability to its limits and discover how deep we can wound it before we start leaving scars. In order to accomplish this without endangering Sub.8’s life, it will be stripped of clothing and strapped to the operating table and I have given us ten-minute windows. Using the same light-flooded room as Ex.3, a team will be entering the room with various appliances, following the strict instructions of careful harming, before leaving for the lights to be shut off. Sub.8 has been known to fight back, unlike its counterpart Sub.5, and we have lost good people to its unpredictability. So we will be using Sub.5 as a bargaining chip. It has been noted these two have some kind of relationship similar to that we would typically see in siblings. If Sub.8 refuses to cooperate, the team has permission to harm Sub.5 to whatever they deem necessary.

Each ten-minute window will be referred to as a cycle, due to the nature of the lighting we are implementing here. 

Under no circumstances should either Subject be killed.

Cycle 1 – Team TS8 managed to coerce Sub.8 onto the table, strapping it down with efficiency. It has yet to fight back, but it has noticed Sub.5 in the corner. It likely knows the terms already. A small cut has been made on its left arm, with no visible response from Sub.8, however, Sub.5 flinched. Interesting. Team TS8 left the room, lights still on. Nothing to note, Sub.8 disappeared and reappeared with the lightning, with no sign of the small cut. Though it is no longer strapped to the table. I am glad we brought along Sub.5. After seeing its capabilities in the mirrored experiment of Ex.3 (please see Ex.4), Sub.5 will be an excellent bargaining chip to ensure those abilities are not put to use.

Cycle 2 – Team TS8 has already threatened to harm Sub.5 to get Sub.8 to cooperate. Nothing physical yet, only threats. It understood and climbed onto the table itself, allowing itself to be strapped down again. It has said nothing in these moments, simply stared. Due to our already collected knowledge and the two-hour time limit on this experiment, I have had to jump a few levels of pain. I have provided Team TS8 with a conical flask of concentrated hydrochloric acid. It seems the jump was necessary, Sub.8 reacted with subdued screams and desperate tugging on restraints. With the skin tissue of its right calf burned away, I can see its muscular system is almost identical to our own, tendons working in the same way. Though this is no groundbreaking discovery, it is still important to note. Team TS8 left the room along with Sub.5, who seemed reluctant. Sub.8’s breathing is erratic, and it claws at the table in a similar way it did during Ex.3. Does this have any practical benefit or is this simply to ease the pain? It disappears once again along with the lights, a burn scar remains on its leg when it returns.

Cycle 3 – Sub.5 had to be harmed. I didn’t want it to come to this, but Sub.8 wasn’t cooperating as well as I hoped it would. We removed Sub.8 and Team TS8 from the room and turned out the lights. Sub.8 thrashed against restraints as it watched Sub.5 be beaten from behind the door. It agreed to continue swiftly after. Sub.5’s wounds healed as the lights returned. Their bond is a fascinating one, and one I would like to explore further. Sub.8’s Trypanophobia has been noted in its records, having an extreme reaction to the sight of needles. I have provided Team TS8 with various sizes of serrated needles with a diagram of its body. The idea was to see whether Sub.8’s mutation could remove things from its body by disappearing and reforming, or whether obstructions could prevent this. Sub.8 seems panicked by the sight of needles, surely triggering its trypanophobia. Once again it thrashes on the table with each insertion, though it only cried out when pierced in the side of its neck and its inner thigh. Perhaps these are somewhat erogenous zones? Or particularly sensitive places? I will have to make comparisons to Sub.5. Team TS8 left along with Sub.5, who seems to be doing very little to stop the process, though is exhibiting signs of great discomfort. Once again, Sub.8 disappears along with the lights, and interestingly, the needles are left behind on the bed, along with copious amounts of its blood. Not sure the cleanup crew could get those stains out. 

A sob wracked from Storm behind him, though Logan couldn’t find it in himself to tear his eyes away. They exploited your fears and used you to record responses for their sick, twisted gain. He grit his teeth, his jaw threatening to crack as his eyes continue to scan the page. 

Cycle 4 – We have recorded Sub.8’s behaviour on the brink of death in Ex.3, however it was due to lack of shadow. There were no threats necessary to encourage Sub.8 back onto the bed, the needles having been carefully removed. The next stage is incredibly simple. Team TS8 sliced through each radial artery on either side of Sub.8’s wrists. I am not a man easily haunted by much, however I do believe Sub.5’s scream will live in my memory for quite some time. I have made sure to set the cutting of the lights long before Sub.8 has time to bleed out. Sub.5 had to be dragged from the room, however, I can observe Sub.8’s body performing the same motions as it was in Ex.3 around hour 19, however, there is a complete lack of vocal response. Its body keeps attempting to disappear, though it has nothing to dissolve into. It’s fascinating to watch, parts of its limbs shimmering jet black before settling again. It’s like the molecules want to disperse. The lights have dimmed far quicker than the last three times. Sub.8 has not moved from the table. It has not disappeared at all, but it is simply lying in wait. Does it wait to die? Perhaps we underestimated its resolve. I have sent Team TS8 back into the dark room, a knife held against Sub.5’s throat. If it doesn’t dissolve, I have instructed them to make a small incision against Sub.5’s neck. It didn’t need to get that far, Sub.8 saw the consequences and immediately dissolved, though it took far longer for it to return. Perhaps the more severe the wound, the longer it takes to reknit the body back together. Will have to perform further experimentation on this. Two more scars have reformed on either wrist. Interesting. Will need to inspect needle incisions later.

Cycle 5 – It’s dead. I’m certain. Due to the ignorance and fear of man, I have lost one of my most valuable subjects. A terrified guard shot it in the chest several times and burst into the experiment. He didn’t exactly aim for it, but rather for Sub.5. It seems the bond between 5 and 8 ran deeper than even I could comprehend, 8 didn’t think twice about putting itself between the guard, taking several bullets to the chest. Four, to be exact, before he was apprehended. I couldn’t get the lights off fast enough, having to override the system I’d set specifically for this experiment. I wasn’t fast enough, and 8 suffered for it. It’s been here for the last 80 years, and one man ruined everything. Its body is still in the room. I haven’t found the heart to move it yet. Sub.5’s memory of the incident has been erased by Sub.1 once again, and replaced with a severe argument between it and 8, resulting in 8 leaving. I will most likely be dead before I find a subject as valuable for mutant research as Phantom. 

Ex. Duration: 50 MINUTES Ex. Outcome: Failure (subject fatality) Findings: I fear Mutants and Humans can never coexist Memory Erased: Experiment above, Sub.8’s death (for Sub.5 only) Memory Replacement: Severe argument. Comments: A devastating turn of events

Logan swallowed as he reached the bottom of the page. Was that how you escaped? Was that how you got out? They thought you were dead only for you to be able to heal from bullet wounds? Did you slip through the shadows? It took him a moment to think it over. No, that wasn't possible. The dates didn't add up. He turned the page over, seeing further notes scrawled on the back in pen rather than type.

22nd September, Ex.1,243 – Continuation. 1932, 11:42 pm.

The body has disappeared. I have kept the lights off since the incident at 6:50 and made the mistake of closing my eyes for a few minutes. When I opened them again, Sub.8 had disappeared. I sealed the doors immediately, hoping this meant it had somehow found the strength to dissolve back into shadow. Looking into the infrared camera, I have noticed the projectiles of bullets scattered where Sub.8 had fallen. Does this mean it’s recovering? Is it possible for it to recover from four bullet wounds to the centre of its chest? 

12:08 am

Sub.8 has returned. Remarkable. Though there are clear scars on its chest and wrists, it seems to have almost completely healed from the incident. This is a staggering discovery. Will need to alter Sub.5’s memory once again.

Logan dropped the file, pages still spread apart as he took a step back. This couldn’t be real. None of this could be real. What you’d endured, what you’d suffered. The scars that remained. You were right, what you’d said this morning. Mental scars leave the same marks as physical ones. Your body had altered to the memories they’d forced into your mind. They couldn’t remove the scars, so they made you think you’d attempted to take your own life. Made you think you remembered getting into fights as a kid. He knew what mutant experimentation was like. He’d had a firsthand experience. But this was on a whole other level. What the fuck was this all for? 

Now Charles’ words made sense. Some memories were left forgotten. He glanced back to the Professor, who nodded grimly as if to confirm all he’d seen. “My first act as headmaster of this school is to tap into the minds and memories of its students and teachers. Logan, trust me when I say, some things are better left in the past.”

He didn’t know what was right or wrong. Keeping this from you felt wrong but at the same time, you were happy with what you had. Was it already too late? Was that glasses-wearing motherfucker Dr. J. Kreva? How much had he told you? How much did you know?

“They were looking for her, weren’t they?” It was the first phrase he’d spoken since reading the file, pieces of your puzzle clicking into place. Charles simply nodded again. 

“It’s not safe for her to be here anymore. For the students and her. They know where to find her now.”

“Then what to we do?” Ororo asked through heavy sniffles, teary eyes looking between you and the Professor. 

“We take her off grid,” Hank said, setting down his glasses. He’d picked them up to read whatever was in that folder but quickly decided against it after seeing Storm’s reaction.

“But we can’t do that without good reason?” Kurt chimed in, casting worried glances around the room.

“Two years ago, I received signals from an environmental research facility we all believed to have been destroyed in a freak accident seven years prior. I sent Jean and Storm to assess the situation after the explosion, and that’s–”

“That’s where we found her and Jade… Oh my God, that was the site?” Ororo finished, her voice dripping with dread. “But… how did they escape? What happened?”

Charles sighed with resignation. “We don’t know. It would take searching her locked memories and risk pulling them to the surface to answer that question, and that wasn’t a gamble I was going to bet on, not after what I’d glimpsed in the past.”

Logan could barely hear any of this. His ears were ringing, white noise clouding his senses as he just stared at you. Your whole life had been a lie. A jumble of nonsense knitted into your memories by another mutant, reality locked away within the darkest depths of your head. He didn’t know what to do. His urge to protect you from this new threat fought with the urge to protect you from your own past. 

“The decision should be hers.” He interrupted the ongoing conversation, moving to take your hand and press a kiss to the scar on your wrist. “Whether she remembers or not. Explain to her what you said to me, and let her decide.” It was the only course of action he could see. The room fell into silence, all contemplating the suggestion before Charles moved forward to the file on the ground, picking it up and closing it. 

“Wherever you take her, wherever you hide her, take this with you. You can’t tell me where you’re going, and I won’t search for you. The less people who know, the better.” He instructed, and Logan nodded, setting the folder to the side. “When she wakes up, we’ll–”

“When she wakes up, you’ll what?” 

The room had been too caught up in their conversations to notice you stirring from your tranquiliser-induced nap. “You know, I seem to spend a concerning amount of my time unconscious these days.” You sat up slowly, the heel of your palm braced against your forehead as if to help the slight pounding at your temples. 

Logan was at your side in a single stride, his hands cupping the sides of your face delicately, as if holding you any tighter would cause you to break. Your relieved smile when you saw him broke his heart. “Hey Lo’.” 

Though that smile faded as he didn’t return it, his eyes brimming with an emotion your groggy head couldn’t quite place.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He responded, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, and it was as if that was all you needed for your headache to fade. You held one of his palms against your cheek, leaning into his touch.

“How long was I out?”

“Around four hours or so. You feelin’ okay?” Concern. That was the emotion you couldn’t pinpoint a moment ago. Concern and… heartbreak?

“Yeah… ‘m fine. Who died?” You asked, trepidation lacing your tone as you stole glances at the others in the room. Ororo had tears in her eyes, Kurt’s arm still wrapped around her shoulders in comfort. Hank looked more bleak than you’d ever seen him, his hands clasped together as if in mourning. You continued scanning the room, Charles offering you a look of sympathy before your eyes landed on the folder Logan had set down. It was like a trigger had been fired in your brain, hazy memories of before you fell unconscious rushing back to you in one big hurricane.

“Oh.” Was all you could say, and Logan wrapped his arms around your head in response, smoothing gently touches against your hair as you basked in the comfort of his embrace.

“How much do you know?”

[wszczebrzyszynie]

Hello everyone. Today i bring you the Space Mining au masterpost ... this is somehting i planned on doing for a while now, as space mining started becoming more and more fleshed out and my answers to your questions started getting more convoluted. Answered one question created 5 more kind of thing. So here is a timeline i made and a lot of links to different asks explaining even different-er things. Its a lot of loredumping but i tried to make it as clear as possible. Normally its the kind of thing youd learn by reading the story but im not planning on making a comic and i will never write a fic so this is how it has to work. average bartek story treatment

Despite humanity spreading all over the universe in post-space colonisation era, the only other life form ever found was a fungi-like, small organism living in giant colonies, which by their appearance resemble earth minerals. it can be found deep below the surface of different, seemingly unrelated moons and planets, desperately hiding from all forms of light; most of it is long dead, found in its rock-like form. commonly known as sculk, it is the newest and most important discovery in recent human history, although very little is actually known about it. Tango is a former HASA engineer, one of the people who revolutionized space mining, renowned for his work on the nature of sculk, and currently a wanted terrorist on the run, after he blew up a chunk of callisto, one of Jupiters moons, durning an illegal sculk mining operation. Completly unfit for the criminal lifestyle, its a miracle he hasnt been caught yet, especially with many bounty hunters and criminals alike on his tail

I tried to include the absolute most important parts. Doesnt look very well but i hope its at least readable

* Everything starts when Tango blows up a part of callisto. He worked there on a practically illegal sculk mining site; everything was meant to be kept secret, obviously, so when it turned out that the sculk is actually alive, parasitic and infecting everyone at a rapid pace, there was little help they could get. The outbreak was catastrophic but with HASA being a govermnent organisation that set up an illegal mining site not only outside of their controled area, but also in the solar system (which was and still is considered something like a buffer state... in space. At the time of the story lots of people from different places live there because its considered peaceful enough) there is no way they would get involved. So the few remaining survivors chose to blow up the mining site to save themselves. It both did and didnt work as intented, destroying a chunk of the moon and succesfully sealing the cave system, but also killing the remaining miners, with Tango being the sole survivor. Despite being a great asset to the company (he is, despite it all, considered the father of modern space mining), everything that happened was swifly pinned on him, with HASA claiming everything happened behind their back. Tango became a wanted terrorist in one day. An important note about the worldbuilding is that everything is corrupted and not good

More information to be found here. I havent linked every post ive ever made about it, just the ones i think are the most important! every space mining related thing can be found in the space mining au tag. This part will be updated with new information whenever i post it!

Designs:

Tango and Jimmy / Scar / Hotguy Scar / Grian / Pearl (+ info) / Joel / Martyn / Skizz / Impulse / Scott (+ info) / Bdubs and Cleo / pre-retirement Cleo, Lizzie and Gem / Ren / Doc

About:

Character relationship chart (not everyone is included) Desert duo/Ranchers/Imp and Skizz relationships More about desert duo / more about the ranchers / more about Impulse and Skizz + space mining as a whole More about Scott and Jimmy + space stations Etho and Bdubs (and Cleo) / more about Etho Cub (and the burning of the ranch) More about Grian Pearl (+ design) Martyn Gem Doc

Zeds full reference/design isnt included because it isnt up to date.

[avengersbtch]

Missed You- Armando Aretas (ONE SHOT)

Armando Aretas x Reader 

Warnings: Pre-established relationship, does not follow films timeline, And nothing else? Unless you hate fluff with a hint on angst if you look closely. 

A/N: Honestly this fic was meant to go a whole different way but guess this is what I felt like writing lol. 

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Armando escapes after the crash and finds you at Dorn’s.

The aftermath of Armando’s actions was catastrophic, he was locked up and you were stuck waiting on the other side for him. You warned him his mother’s instructions would come with a price, but he was loyal to a fault especially to his mother. However, no matter what he did and who he trusted, you were always a constant for him, and he loved you more for it. Seeing him in prison had broken your heart more than you could admit, you could see he had accepted his fate with the light in his eyes dull after his mother’s death, the only thing that kept you going and kept you hopeful was Mike doing his best to try and get him out, not that it was helping at moment, he was still behind bars. 

It had been routine for you, you would visit him on a weekly basis, only weekends because you worked full time as a data analyst for the PD. So, your weekends were spent driving down and seeing him and talking to him for an hour a day and doing the same thing the next day. He wouldn’t tell you much about his day or his week really, you assumed to not worry you, not that it helped, you stressed about him constantly and missed him dearly and wished you could at least hug him. He knew you were doing the best you could, and he knew that being with him also caused you more trouble than peace which swelled his heart. Seeing you on the weekends was his only sense of joy that he felt and knowing you were still there for him solidified his true awe in you. He loved hearing about your week, whether it was a friend or work drama that occurred that week or family related stories, he just listened to it all. He knew him being imprisoned wasn’t a good look on you either given you worked for the PD, but you never said anything to him because it was him before everyone else and he knew you flipped off anyone that tried to say a word about him, which of-course he was proud of. 

Today was any other weekend, you picked up a coffee and started driving early in the morning to see him again. You missed him especially with this week being your birthday, it just passed, and it had felt so empty not sharing it with him. You arrived earlier than usual despite the traffic which you chalked it up to luck and were not complaining. Walking into the large prison doors, a couple of officers asked you to sign in and requested the name of the person you were visiting, we’ll to quote in their words ‘inmate’ but there’s was no way you would refer to your Armando as inmate. Absolutely not. They knew who you were coming for, but it was policy for them, so it repeated every week. Following the same routine, you signed in, waited until you were cleared and walked through the X-ray, handing in all your belongings and once you cleared through, you waited until they brought Armando out. You knew he was ready when the officers signalled you in, to which you graciously complied and went it.

There he was behind bars, with his scruffy beard that you loved, and unkept hair sitting with cuffs waiting for you. The moment he noticed you, his smiled lifted, not completely reaching is eyes but a smile was enough for you. 

“Amor, you’re early today, I missed you” Armando greeted you instantly as you sat down. 

“Hi baby” you smiled grabbing his hand and sneaking a quick peck on his fingers through the bars while the officer wasn’t looking. He smiled at the action and held on to your hand with his fingers not wanting your touch to go just yet. “How are you feeling baby?” You asked slightly rubbing his fingers. 

“Me? happy birthday mi amor” He dismissed your question changing the subject back to you. 

“Thanks baby, I missed you I’ll be honest” you admitted ignoring the fact he dismissed the question about himself as per usual, you left it because you would harp on about him ignoring it later. 

“I was thinking about you baby I promise” he sagged while answering “I’m sorry you have to go through this” slipping his hand away noticing the guard nearing. 

“Don’t apologise Armando, it’s not your fault, she lied to you, and it’s been too long to look back now” you consoled “I’m just glad you here and alive and with me baby, I don’t care about anything else” you added, you hated seeing him like this. This wasn’t him; he was cool and calm and level-headed, and you knew he was only this way with you because he trusted you, but it still hurt you to not see him acting like himself. The longer he spent in these walls the worse it got.

“Anywaay, how are you feeling mister I like ignoring my girlfriend’s questions” you dragged putting emphasis that he was not getting away with ignoring your question. He rolled his eyes and beat around the answer again until he got you talking about your week.

You talked for more, told him work stories and what you did for your birthday while he listened with intent. At one point you had your legs crossed in a criss-cross fashion expressing all your concerns, that was until the guard knock on the window beside you yelling “ times up!” Indicating you had to get going. 

You turned your head to the guard and then back to Armando and sighed “I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” 

“Ok amor, I love you” he assured seeing your hesitation. 

You smiled and said softly “love you too baby” kissing your fingers and transferring it to the bars in front on him and he returned the same kiss back adding a cheeky wink that invoked a slight blush from your neck up. 

The next day you did the same, the drive was roughly an hour, you didn’t mind it, it was peaceful and enjoyable to have the break driving up. Today you were running later than usual though, it was almost midday and you had woken up late also having a few errands to run before you left because everything closed early Sundays. Nevertheless, you made your way to Armando as you did every weekend. 

Only this Sunday was different because the minute you walked into the Prison, the officers frowned and said without waiting “he’s not taking visitors today” they didn’t even ask you who you were visiting, you frowned in confusion. 

“What do you mean he’s not taking any visitors, did he say that himself?” you accused as you questioned the officers, knowing for a fact Armando did not ask to not see you. 

“He got into an altercation yesterday which has resulted in his visitation rights being revoked” he stated as if he was reading a script. Now you were absolutely confused and even more worried. 

“An altercation, what happened? Is he ok” you frantically asked worried about him. While Armando could hold his own in a fight, he wouldn’t start one for nothing. Something was wrong. 

“We cannot disclose any further information, please reach out to your lawyer for further clarification” he scriptly stated again which infuriated you further. 

“Like hell” you mumbled grabbing your phone and dialling Mike right away while walking out the prison. Did he know about this, if not could he out? The lawyer was who’d you be calling last, please. A million thoughts were going through your mind as the phone rang but the only one you need an answer to right now was if he was safe.

The ring paused, indicating Mike had answered thankfully and before you could greet him, he rushed and said “y/n, I’m dealing with it now. I’m going to try and get him transferred” advising you immediately showing he clearly knew what the fuck was going on. 

“Dealing with it now?! What the fuck is going on why the fuck did I get rejected to see him Mike?” You yelled frustrated this was how you were finding out, trying to walk back to your car. 

“I didn’t know you were going down, I would’ve called” he sighed, also repeating “I’m trying to get him transferred”. 

“You should have called me first! I don’t give a shit if I was going down or not” you spat, throwing all your anger onto  him. “Why are you trying to get him transferred, I need to know what’s happening” you demanded hands waving outside the prison.

He sighed mumbling something along the lines of not wanting to worry you which now worried you more. 

“Mike. What. Happened?” You asked him again with more force. 

“Someone’s trying to hurt him, I wen-“he started informing before you cut of him in panic. 

“What! Hurt him? Mike, who’s trying to hurt him? Why? “You asked frantically pausing in your tracks, your heart beating faster the more you listened. Why the hell would anyone want to hurt Armando. 

“If you didn’t interrupt me, you would have heard me say that I went to see him yesterday” he explained slowly as you allowed him to tell you what was going on. As he went on, you finished walking back to your car and put the phone on speaker. 

“to get information on Captain with him being framed and you know Armando being the one that killed him and all” Mike pointed out while explaining. 

You shook your head in disbelief and huffed “Mike, get on with it, you know it was his mother’s doing, don’t blame him for being loyal” you defended Armando, there was no way you’d let anyone, even Mike say a single bad word about him when he wasn’t present to defend himself, whether it was intentional or not. 

After this, Mike went on explaining everything to you and that he was going down to request his transfer so they could keep Armando safe so he could ID the true suspect behind the framing of Captain Howard. None of this made you feel any better but there was literally nothing you could do but wait for Armando to be transferred, that was what Mike said anyway. So that’s what you did, you went about your day doing errands, cooking, and cleaning and basically anything and everything that would keep you occupied. 

Later that day you got a phone call from Mike stating that the transfer was happening which felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders after hearing those words. You knew the transfer still had to happen for him to be one hundred percent safe so when Mike transferred him was when you’d truly feel at ease. You trusted Mike so waiting for this to go down would be ok, as long as someone was protecting him, not that he couldn’t protect himself but knowing he wasn’t alone made you feel a bit at ease. So then started a new waiting game, tomorrow he would be transferred, that wasn’t that far away you thought. Wrong, you didn’t sleep the whole night stressed that he was alone at that prison and unsafe, with people who wanted him dead, your heart constricted at the thought of him being hurt and feeling so alone.

Day two of waiting was a little easier given you were running on no sleep and had work, so it was difficult to focus on anything except not closing your eyes and although work was slow it offered some sort of a distraction from worrying about Armando. Well, that was until you noticed the news at work. You had been on your computer, and a news feed notification appeared on your screen that read “PRISON TRANSFER PLANE CRASH” this immediately sparked your interest and concern simultaneously. You clicked the notification, reading through was had been reported, time slowed down, everything was moving in slow motion. Not only had you read the words plane crash and Armando’s name in the same sentence, the words fugitive and suspects were raising major red flags as well. So much new information was being thrown at you and you honestly felt like you would faint. You breathed in and out at least 5 times and listed everything that you read. Armando had been in a plane crash; they suspect he survived with Mike and Marcus who were now wanted suspects. The plane crash was not a coincidence, you knew that, and you knew who ever wanted Armando dead was going through lengths to do this. You ignored the stares from you co-workers assuming they’ve seen the same notification and stood up to request to leave work early. 

You ran to your car and sat with your head on your steering wheel for a minute breathing in and out, five minutes passed, and you decided to try and call Mike, obviously with no answer, then called Marcus and the same. You must have sat there for what felt like an hour till you drove home and went on your laptop trying to figure something out, anything really but obviously no luck given this wasn’t your expertise and the only person you knew who may be able to help was Dorn. You contemplated going to Dorn’s place and asking him to help, wondering whether he was already trying to help, you thought about just calling him, but then you would risk your phone being tapped and that was not something you could risk given Armando was out, possibly hurt and maybe even alone however, you doubted that seeing as Mike and Marcus were now suspects to Armando’s escape. Your emotions getting the better of you, you grabbed your keys and decided that you would go to Dorn and ask him for help and at least have him offer you what he knows. Yes, it was almost midnight, but you wouldn’t be able to rest or breathe until you knew Armando was okay and Dorn would have to suffer for that.

Arriving at Dorn’s place, you noticed a light was on which was good and meant that you were not waking him up. You knocked softly, hoping not to annoy him at this hour, to your surprise, he answered immediately with a confused look on his face. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” He asked in concern standing at the door.

“Did you see the news?” You asked back in answer sliding past him inviting yourself in. 

“On Mike and Marcus?” He asked confirming he saw the same thing. “Yeah, I spoke to them just before it crashed, there is shit going down” he answered, telling me absolutely nothing as he closed the door eyes shifting upstairs. 

“And Armando, he’s probably with them” you added, causing him to shift slightly probably because he wasn’t Armando’s biggest fan. “So, you haven’t heard from them since?” You asked watching his eye shift slightly to upstairs again.

You rolled your eyes at him “get over it Dorn, I know you and Kelly are together.” You stated getting bored at his stress, needing his 100 percent focus.

“HOW?” He gasped and that caused you to chuckle, telling him how obvious they were. After that amazing discovery you had sat with Dorn and Kelly while they broke down all the data and information that had come to light before this crash. To be honest, you really didn’t care but if any of this brought you closer to Armando, you would endure it all and more. It had gotten late and Dorn had offered you the spare room to crash, after the day you had and the information overload that just occurred, there wasn’t much more you could do tonight and you felt bad for keeping Kelly and Dorn up till 3, so you agreed and used the spare room until tomorrow and you would go back home and try and figure things out. 

The next morning you had heard noise downstairs, assuming it was Dorn and Kelly you tried to go back to sleep. But it seemed louder than normal and there seemed to be conversation that had you interested. Getting out of bed, in the same clothes you were in from last night, you rubbed your eyes and yawned sliding your feet to the bathroom. You washed your face, fixed your hair, and overall tried to look more presentable given you looked like a troll in the mornings. Shifting your feet down the stairs one by one, the yelling getting louder and as your feet reached the final stair, you gasped and paused at the bottom of the stairs. Armando was standing right there with an unbothered look on his face and Kelly pointing a gun at his face.

“Kelly what the fuck?!” You yelled running to Armando to stand in between him and the gun immediately causing Armando unbothered façade to drop.

“Mi Amor? What are you doing here?” Armando asked calmly while you faced Kelly. He had not expected you to be here, not that he knew where Mike and Marcus were taking him but the last person, he expected to see was you while he was on the run. You slightly touched his arm, keeping distance between him and the woman with the gun. Your touch felt like fire and there was nothing more he wanted but to hug you and kiss you all over. He had been dreaming of it every time you visited him at the prison.

“Y/N I know you love him, but you need to step aside. He can’t be here.” Kelly declared as if that would make you move anymore, throwing her a confused look you stared at Dorn for help.

“Kelly step back, like you said, I love him and he’s Mike’s Son. He’s with them” you announced with no intention of moving out of her way. You wanted nothing more than to acknowledge the man behind you but the fear of seeing that gun pointed at him topped the feeling of missing him and needing him right now. Dorn had stepped in now to cool Kelly off, causing her to lower the gun. You breathed as if you had been holding it in the whole time and your shoulders dropped int relief. You turned slowly, finally being offered the space and time to see him and feel him with him only inches away from you now. You stared at him lovingly, chest rising as you stared at him not uttering a single word. You could see him waiting for you, it was what you both had been waiting for. 

You looked at him, from top to bottom, noting that he looked absolutely battered and whispered in relief “Armando?” 

He took this as you asking for him, which you had been and opened his arms to which you threw yourself at. He held on to you for dear life and you did the same, you hugged him so tight you may have started cutting off his circulation, but he hadn’t contested so you continued. His arms wrapped around your waist and head dipped to reach you with your head resting on his shoulders leaning into his neck and taking in his scent. 

“I missed you so much baby” you mumbled in his neck as he hugged you. Peppering kisses all over his neck while he whispered sweet nothings to you.

“I’ve dreamt of this mi amor, you are so beautiful baby, I love you so much” he whispered near your ear, peppering with almost as many kisses. 

You pulled from him slightly and looked up at him, pulling his face closer to you with both your hands cupping his cheeks. He immediately kissed you taking control with his hands still in your waist pulling you closer to him. He wasted no time at all slipping in his tongue, which you had no issues to at all with and reciprocated almost moaning at the feeling of him, but you held back knowing there may be an audience. You pulled from him, breathing heavily and rested your forehead on his, he lifted one hand to your face and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“Why are you here?” He asked again, completely dumbfounded that you were right here and how. 

“Do you want me to go?” You chuckled joking as you moved to hug his side allowing him to wrap one arm around your waist. 

“No never mi amor, you stay right here” he chuckled back pulling you closer to him, which caused you to smile softly nodding as your head rested on his chest.

“I came here to find you” you mumbled in his chest hugging him tighter almost as if he would slip from you. His touch and his warmth already made you feel so comforted and safe and loved, and it only been 5 minutes. Your heart stiffened at thought of losing him again. 

“You found me baby” he confirmed, kissing the top of your head leaving you smiling in his chest. He had definitely gained some muscle while in prison and you weren’t complaining. “Ok you too, we’ve had enough of this reunion, really. I had no idea you’d be here y/n” Marcus interrupted which made you laugh sweetly. Armando, not so much, he just mumbled something about not being funny at Marcus being annoying which you giggled at.

[orbital-inclination]

Moltendreams - Error Sans Alias - Static Pronouns: he/him, they/them Personality: Petty, holds a mean grudge, Big Tsundere, Complete Shut-in, Quick Tempered and Moody, fanatic with his interests, externally aggressive when in actuality he is quite shy. An absolute troll. His favorite passtime is messing with others. Paradoxically touch starved and suffers from haphephobia. Reckless with his own well being.

This variant of Error is capable of both love and compassion, he just hides it under a grumpy exterior and several layers of denial and self-destructive dogma. Other Notes:

Reluctant to harm Papyrus directly, though Static can't articulate why, and will generally avoid encounters Papyrus in any given AU.

Had a good relationship with his dad/W.D Gaster, actually.

Relates to "pest" pets; rats, mice, snakes, spiders, beetles, he loves them all.

Would have a pet rat of his own if he wasn't afraid of it shocking itself by chewing on his wires.

His favorite kind of chocolate is mixed with a hazelnut filling.

Views Frisk as a younger sibling.

Into Parkour.

-More Info undercut! -

Abilities: Static uses wire instead of string. Wire and summoned attacks can and do hold an electric charge. His presence alone messes with electronic devices. Residents of a particular AU may get a few minutes or seconds of warning as sweaters get staticy, computer screens glitch out, and anything with a battery spontaneously dies or gets super charged. By creating a circle of alternating RED and CYAN bones, Static creates a sort of reverse faraday cage. While Static can produce electricity, he can't directly control the voltage. He can only hope to direct it. The voltage of a charge is directly influenced by his emotional state. If you touch him, you will find his clothes zappy with static. Do NOT attempt to fight him in humid or watery environments for, hopefully, obvious reasons.

About: Static originates from a pre-Pacifist timeline that was followed by a looping Genocide Route. Through repetitive iterations, and an escalating instability in the timeline, the monsters of the underground began to recall events they didn't witness and memories they shouldn't recall.

Working together, Static, at that point still Sans, and Alphys were able to pin point the root cause of their timeline's instability. They made a plan to save the underground and separate Frisk from the Anomaly but when it came time to execute their plan something went catastrophically wrong. As a result Sans was torn from reality, and caught in the space in-between. Eventually, he escaped but not unscathed. Static has vague conflicting memories of his past, and to this day, questions if any of it was real. He can't find his original AU and secretly fears it may have been the first world he destroyed. He is still looking for it.

Outcode Politics: Static views all outcodes the same way he views every iteration of the original timeline that even slightly deviates: as glitches to be terminated. Bugs in the code he needs to hammer out before it all goes to hell. Static believes that by destroying deviating timelines and AUs, he is preserving the stability of the original. He is “saving’’ it from corruption by trimming the branches back. Despite his position as the self proclaimed Destroyer, Static is not above biases and making exceptions. 

Static includes himself on his long list of glitches in the code to be terminated. Static has a different view on the Spirits of Creation that Fable/Ink does. (Spirits of Creation are the in-universe term and stand-in for the creator of an AU). He calls them eldritch parasites. Abominations that should be avoided at all costs. And absolutely should not be encouraged or interacted with. Though he won't admit it out loud, Static is terrified of them. OG Error @.LoverofPiggies/CrayonQueen) Moltendreams @.me Edit: he has been named! Edit 2: revised his profile a bit

[writing-for-life]

The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known

Or: Does Morpheus really have commitment issues?

[Bear with me, I’ll get to this panel 🤣]

I’ve read many times that Morpheus supposedly has commitment issues, and it always has me scratching my head a bit…

I personally rather think he is desperate to commit. He so badly craves a serious relationship that he is prone to rush into it and build it on wonky foundations, but he has certainly no commitment issues as we would commonly understand them.

Is it in his nature though to be truly seen and understood when he is [a] Dream? And can dreams ever last? These are the much more interesting questions in my view. Let’s have a look at the romantic relationships we know of…

Killalla: Walked out on him. That wasn’t his lack of commitment. If anything, he came on a bit strong while she was still assessing her feelings for him.

Alianora: He fully committed to her despite basically being bullied into it by Desire. And they were happy for “a goodly while”. For those in doubt: “Goodly” doesn’t mean “a bit”. It means “great, large, long.” And the fact that Alianora couldn’t go back to her own plane because she had stayed in the Dreaming too long corroborates that they were together for a long time. Probably longer than any human relationship ever lasts, because I doubt “a long time” means “a couple of years” for someone who is 12 billion years old.

And now I’ll sandwich the relationship we hardly know anything about between some random (?) panels to also make a point why I think it might sit here in the timeline…

Titania: Who knows. Sounded like an affair, and as if they both had no intention of committing. He was clearly very fond of her though, and I can never shake the feeling that we should look a bit deeper into AMND and find the parallels between Auberon, Titania (not hard, and they are pretty much pictured as estranged) and Bottom. There are many ways to get confused with a jackass, you know? 🤣 Plus, Bottom is the one who gets to play Pyramus in “Pyramus and Thisbe”. That’s the ultimate blueprint for “Romeo and Juliet”: Ill-fated love of catastrophic proportions, people are dead by the end of it. That’s why I often wondered if the affair with Titania was actually pre-Nada, and the inspiration for Shakespeare wasn’t random (it wasn’t random for The Tempest either). I mean, it wasn’t random anyway because it was a parting gift, but I also don’t think it was entirely random with regard to their relationship. Wild head-canon of course, but maybe not that wild (he also says that Wendel’s Mound was already a theatre before humans walked the earth, so there’s that)? And even if he wasn’t committed (we quite frankly don’t know if he intended to but she didn’t or couldn’t), she and the Fae meant enough to him to give them a play as a parting gift.

Nada: Killed herself after one night, but that wasn’t down to lack of commitment on his part. Again: If anything, he came on far too strong, wanted to be with her and was far too pushy about it.

Calliope: We don’t know how long they were together before they had Orpheus. Could have been a while, could have been only a shortish time. But even if we assumed they had him fairly quickly—they were still together when Orpheus, who was mortal, got married to Eurydice, so even if he got married young, we’re still talking something in the realm of +/- 20 years, and that’s the absolute low-ball-estimate. And while they had started to drift apart (considering what we know from Calliope), they were still on good terms and had no intention of splitting up until the whole Orpheus drama caused a rift they couldn’t mend. Again: That’s not someone who has commitment issues. It’s a relationship breaking down over hurt, stubbornness and grief.

Thessaly: Again, she was the one who left him and caused his dramatic interlude in the rain. Were they ill suited? Yes. Did she feel neglected and went into a strop over it? Yes. Did he not get that she felt neglected? Also yes, but that’s not lack of commitment. That’s his not getting that people aren’t mind readers (must be hard if you’re probably one yourself 🤣) and, by and large, need assurances of love. He doesn’t get that these women don’t understand they have his love; he can’t grasp that line of thinking because it is all so clear to him when he loves someone: They have him, what’s the issue? Is that a not so great way of (not) communicating when you’re having a relationship to someone? Absolutely. Is it a commitment issue though? Absolutely not.

I think Morpheus doesn’t really have commitment issues in romantic relationships—wouldn’t that almost be antithetical to his nature? Rules and responsibilities. Yeah, about that one…

What I do think is that he struggles with the mortifying ordeal of being (not) known by his lovers. Because how could he? He is Dream. That is his problem. Dreams cannot be fully known or understood. He is very eloquent but at the same time a very… confusing communicator. I don’t want to say “bad”, because I feel that’s not getting to the bottom of it. Again, it is the nature of dreams to be confusing and strange, open to (mis)interpretation, hard to grasp and understand. And they also stop being dreams once they become real. All of that is true and hence makes relationships both hard for him and those involved. Is he truly not willing to commit though?

I still find that hard to believe…

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Steve slides down the wall as soon as he’s in the bathroom, hands going to his hair, gripping hard as he tries to remember how to breathe.

“Steve?” Robin says. “The door’s locked, it’s just us. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Robs, I look at her and all I see is bullshit, and I know she’s got questions, and fuck, she probably thinks I’m cheating on her, which I’d never do, but she- and Jonathan-”

“Whoa,” Robin says, grabbing his hands. “Deep breaths, Steve-o, we’re gonna make it through this. I will absolutely flirt with Nancy if it helps on the accusation front. I told Eddie the kids like D&D, so hopefully…” she trails off, listening, and they both smirk when they hear Eddie, already in character. “That didn’t take long.”

“He’s a good guy,” Steve says. “And they’re good kids. Mostly.”

Robin snorts. “Mostly,” she agrees. “Listen, why don’t you break up with Nancy? Nothing else happens between the two of you, right? So we tell everyone what’s going on, you pull Nancy aside—I’ll come for moral support if you want—and explain what happens and tell her you can’t see her anymore.”

“You don’t think it’ll mess with the whole timeline thing?”

“Steve. Buddy. We’re telling a group of twelve-year-olds about something that happens four years in the future. The timeline’s well and truly fucked. You weren’t happy with her, not after Barb, right? Because the stories you told me painted you as being miserable.”

Steve sighs. Reclaims one of his hands to run it through his hair. “Yeah.”

“Okay then. And hey,” she says, moving to sit next to him. “Maybe if you break up with her now, you can do something about your crush on a certain someone.”

“Robs, c’mon,” he complains. “Even if I did, what happens after? When we go back to ‘87? Are there three years of memories I don’t have? Do we break up before you and I go back, and pick it up again four years later? And what if we fail and he dies anyways? What then, Robin?”

She leans her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I dunno, Dingus. But hey, I’m here.”

He offers her a half-smile before laying his head on hers. “Yeah. You are.”

A knock on the door startles them. “Uh, Steve?” It’s Nancy. She sounds oddly apprehensive. “Eddie’s doing a great job at keeping the kids occupied, but we’d all like to know what’s going on.”

Steve sighs and pushes his face into Robin’s hair for a second before turning back to the door to answer. “Yeah. We’ll be right there.”

Nancy doesn’t answer. The first time around, it was something Steve had found endearing. She didn’t have time to waste on meaningless words. Now, it irks him a little bit.

“C’mon,” Robin says gently. “You can fall apart again after, but there’s no use catastrophizing over something that hasn’t happened yet.”

He quirks his mouth up at her. “Right, ‘cause you’ve never been dramatic a day in your life.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m a band kid, Steven, of course I’m dramatic.” She begins to smirk. “Besides, not like you mind when it’s-”

“Okay,” he says, but they’re both smiling as he unlocks the door.

They go downstairs and he smiles at the sight of everyone on the couch, enraptured, as Eddie’s crouched on the coffee table, eyes wide, monologuing. Steve casts his eyes around, taking everyone in, and starts to frown. “Where’s El?”

Nancy’s the first to break out of the reverie. She looks around, brows furrowed, then slaps at Mike’s arm until he slaps back. “What?”

“Where’s El?”

“She’s right- oh.” Saucer-wide eyes turn to Nancy. “I don’t know.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

@paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

[yuri-is-online]

Love and Deepspace Timeline: MC, Philos, and the Aether Core

Look I finished Xav's myths card. I don't regret waiting until I was done with it to post his timeline because the last two nodes have more to do with MC than him, but I am in a state so we are making this to cope.

This is all speculation and should not be taken as fact, I have done two other posts, one on Zayne and one on Xavier and I will not be doing one on Rafayel please see this reddit post by u/joonmin for relevant information about his myths card blah blah blah.

This post is less of a timeline and more here to answer questions you very likely have if you: A) decided to browse reddit and saw people saying Xavier feels like the "cannon ro" [this is a gacha game there isn't one] but have never read any of his memories, moments, or dates B) read chapter 8 and went "none of this makes sense I feel like I am missing something" or C) just generally are confused about L&D's world building and what's up with MC. I have answers for you. Wibbly wobbly soupy answers. This post also has a TL;DR in case you don't want to see me break out the string board and just want the relevant bits of information about MC you won't get from the msq.

SPOILERS FOR ALL IN GAME CONTENT UP TO CHAPTER 8, VARIOUS MOMENTS, AND ANECDOTES RELATED TO ALL 3 ROS, PROCEED WITH CARE.

Current Timeline MC (i.e. The one we are playing as)

The game starts with MC's graduation from the Academy and first day as a fully licensed hunter. We learn a few things in this first chapter, namely that MC is combat trained, has a rare heart condition known as Protocore Syndrome that has no known cure, and that her decision to become a hunter has something to do with what she experienced fourteen years ago during the Catastrophe when the Deepspace Tunnel opened and Wanderers started invading earth.

Specifically MC describes something burrowing itself into her heart. She feels helpless, like prey, and has a strong desire to never feel anything like this again. Which is unfortunate because I have a feeling a lot of someones are going to be on her trail sooner rather than later.

In Chapter 5 it is revealed that MC has an Aether core fused to her heart. This sort of human experimentation is highly illegal and it is unknown who did this to MC other than our beloved Grandmother was directly involved. Grandma appears to have taken MC away from wherever this happened after the tests started to threaten MC's life.

This is known to Dr. Zayne and Dr. Noah, though neither seem to know more than what Grandma told them. Neither of them seem to fully understand what an Aether core is or what it is doing to MC's heart. Zayne in particular seems to find this extremely concerning.

Uncovering the mystery of the Aether core seems to be what will be driving the first arc so we will not be discussing it at length here. I do want to note that Xavier absolutely knows what it is, while Zayne does not but does seem to know more of the technical aspects of how it is effecting MC, and Rafayel is at least aware of it being valuable and maybe why exactly the people in the N109 Zone want it.

At some point in the past MC met and made a promise to Rafayel. It is my personal theory that this likely took place on Hat Island during the field trip MC talks about due to some of the comments made in Chapter 7.

MC and Caleb were friends with Zayne in childhood. MC's exact age is a bit fuzzy, but the game does seem to suggest she is younger than Zayne. She does not know why Zayne disappeared from her life or what led him to become a doctor.

Comments in Chapter 4 suggests that Caleb encouraged MC to become a hunter. He seems to be very supportive of her, but Grandma seems more interested in trusting MC's protection to Zayne.

On the surface MC seems pretty normal. Her memories from before the Catastrophe seem to be gone, if she had a mother and father or other blood relatives, she doesn't remember them anymore.

Philos MC (i.e. What is Going on in the Myths)

It is revealed in Xavier's When Shooting Stars Fall anecdote that Philos is Earth in the distant future. This has confused numerous people in the notes of my Xav's timeline so I am going to be insufferable and attempt to assist with a graph:

The MC you play belongs to the game timeline, the MCs (plural each myths card features a different one) in the Myths cards come from the Philos timeline. I have tagged the Game timeline as a "potential tangent" as the events that take place in game are entirely reliant on the existence of the Deepspace Tunnel, which is created in the Philos timeline.

At some point in the Original/Philos Timeline, Earth's core ceases to function. Humanity replaces it with a new, artificial core that causes noticeable weather changes and fuses all of the tectonic plates together, and begins a new calendar counting forward from the years since Earth ceased to be and Philos was born. As a result, we don't know what exact year Earth's core giving out happened in the Original Timeline. The artificial core allows almost all humans to "live eternal." They seem to be like Tolkien's elves in the sense they can live for an eternity but they start to get tired after a while and give up on life. This is why there is a royal family that needs a line of succession. Xavier is the Crown Prince of Philos, he meets MC in school and learns she has a rare disease called Protocore Syndrome which will not allow her to live forever. He attempts to cure this by finding a specific protocore she mentions, but fails to reach her in time and is forced to watch her die. This all happens in the year 214.

At some point MC is reborn and assigned to the same teacher as Xavier. She is to train to become his knight and serve as the leader of the Lightseekers, an order tasked with killing Wanderers. At some point during or before Xavier's coming of age ceremony, he learns the truth about Philos: the planet is dying due to the artificial core never having been meant to sustain the planet this long. The Royal Family's solution for this is to occasionally feed humans to the heart of Philos in Starfall Forest. When they do this, it creates Wanderers. As if that wasn't bad enough, Xavier learns that his father and the royal family have found what they think could be a permanent solution: there is a girl who has achieved true immortality. She is the only person on Philos who can die and be reborn constantly, and while they don't seem to know why she does this, the royal family believes this girl is the life force of the planet itself.

This girl is MC and Xavier does not want this to happen. He has a plan that he does not explain to MC, but it involves traveling back in time. He says they have specific places in time picked out, but we know from Xavier's Passing By anecdote that something went wrong with his team's attempt at time travel and now there is no guarantee that the MC he left on Philos as its Queen is still there.

So now we have two timelines: Original/Philos Timeline and Game/Tangent Timeline. But all of that is just taking Xavier's anecdotes and Myths card into account... so what happens if we try to plug in the other two ROs?

Rafayel

In u/Joonmin's reddit post they mention two very important bits of information: 1) It has been 30,000 years since the sea dried up and 2) MC is a member of the royal family of Philos, not by birth but because "she has a heart that’s been blessed by the gods" and has "awoken from the depths." If all three myths cards take place in the same Philos timeline as the one Xavier leaves, we can reasonably place Raf's myths card after Xavier's backtrack mission.

So the Philos timeline would look like this. I have a note for Zayne's card there as well, but if I had to get picky with it I'm slightly tempted to place his Myths card between MC's first death and her being reborn to meet Xavier again. The other explanation would be that there are three separate Philos timelines created because the MC was successfully scarified to the Heart of Philos. In Xavier's Myths 6 MC briefly takes a dip in the space time anomaly at the center of Starfall Forest which could also explain MC scattering across different timelines, but the in game spacepedia makes a point to say that there is a chance that life still exists on Philos:

So it could simply be that MC over there has been stuck in the exact cycle of death and rebirth that Xavier was trying to prevent. It could also mean that when they add that mystery fourth love interest there is an explanation for a fourth possible myths card. Anyway all this information leaves us with a set of timelines that currently look like this:

This still leaves a lot of unanswered questions. For example, if the Philos timeline is where this all starts, what version of it is? What caused Earth's core to give out in that original timeline? Is Rafayel and Lumeria's existence the consequences of clashing timelines or are mermaids cannon to this universe? What effect on the space time continuum did Xavier's actions have? And how much of this is actually going to be answered in game?

TL;DR

Philos is Earth in the future with an artificial core that started running out of power, and never should have been made in the first place.

The royal family fed some of their long lived humans to the anomaly in Starfall forest to keep the planet running, but then they found out about a girl who could constantly be reborn each time she died and had an idea.

An idea Xavier wasn't very keen on but who cares. They thought that "when the time was right" they would sacrifice her to the rift and leave her there to die and be reborn forever. They also did not think to ask her.

Oh yeah when they fed people to the rift they turned into Wanderers. So wanderers = people as mentioned in Zayne's Still in the Dark anecdote.

Whatever makes MC reincarnate might have something to do with Lumeria, or at the very least the Lumerians in Rafayel's myths card seem to think it does.

In game MC, current timeline MC knows none of this, and has no memories from her lives, past or future. This is consistent across all her incarnations.

Final Thoughts

The only reason why I think this way about timelines is because I watched Donnie Darko in a college theater class. People like to argue about that movie and how it is supposed to be interpreted, but generally speaking they all seem to think that Tangent Timelines and the Tangent Universes they spawn get deleted very quickly, so maybe that's why the game starts by talking about "being able to leave this loop" and why Xavier seems to think something bad will be happening to Linkon City soon.

Chapter 8 ends with Xavier attempting to send a message back through the Deepspace Tunnel to make contact with someone. Interestingly enough he calls this "Traceback II." This sounded familiar to me and sure enough the game starts by mentioning that exact same thing, it is going past a black hole and is what says that line "we are stuck in this loop."

I thought in previous posts that the Aether Core is what could cure MC... but now I think the Aether Core is likely what Philos's artificial core is called... so who created it in the first place? ｢(ﾟﾍﾟ)

The Deepspace Tunnel is a spacetime anomaly likely caused by Philos's existence since it was "never meant to exist." So why was it created? And by who?

[avocado-writing]

HI IT’S THE CHILLY ANON, first off thank you sm that fic/drabble was absolutely tasty, very delicious

secondly !! if requests are still open (I tried to scroll back on your page to double check) could I perhaps! Request another astarion x tav/reader that’s afraid of the dark ?

giving you big hugs and a glass of water ^^

notes: thank you anon I am slurping it down mwah xx if you like my work, please reblog!

words: 1.1k

rating: T

pairing: astarion x reader

He hates the Underdark. 

More than anything because it reminds him of his life before, chained into the shadows without the possibility of being free in the sun, and he hates the idea of returning to that voluntarily. But the group insisted that it was the safest path to the Shadowlands - and gods know that sounds like a barrel of laughs, too - so here he is. Trudging. 

The excursion itself was bad, with its exploding fungi and minotaurs charging from nowhere, but things got catastrophically worse when that damned Bulette had appeared. Astarion is never a fan of enemies he can’t keep an eye on at all times so that thing surfacing scared the un-life out of him, and when you called a retreat the damned group got carved into two halves: Shadowheart and Karlach headed one way, towards the wide open mushroom fields, and the two of you another - into the shadowed safety of a cave. 

And then there was a bloody rockfall. 

It closed you off from them, splitting the bloody party like fools. Both of you trapped in a tunnel, covered in dust and dirt and feeling incredibly stupid indeed.

Alone together. 

Luckily Shadowheart had used a Sending spell to let you know they were attempting to find a way out, but it might take a while. Looks like they’ll have to source some explosives from somewhere in order to clear the debris from the cavemouth. With little else to do, you stayed put.

So here the two of you are, waiting for your rescue to be sprung with no real idea of a timeline. Astarion has been pacing, complaining as loudly as he can about the situation and listening to the echo of his own gripes, but you’ve been oddly… still. Sat against the rocky wall with a torch gripped so tightly in your hands that it’s changing the colour of your knuckles. The torch which, now he comes to think of it, you haven’t let go of since you climbed down that ridiculous ladder into this wretched place.

“We should have risked the damned mountain pass is all I’m saying. A handful of githyanki are hardly the worst choice when you compare them to all this bloody… gloom. I mean gods, I’ve not seen the sun in two hundred years and now we are actively choosing to hide from it. What’s the point of this damned tadpole if I’m hundreds of feet beneath the earth?!”

“Can you not?” you say, voice so quiet he almost misses it. For a moment, Astarion pause, turning with his whole torso to look at you. He inspects you through narrowed eyes.

“You’re the one who led us down here,” he sniffs, as if this justifies his bitching.

“Yes, because the group voted. Everyone but the two of us and Lae’zel chose Underdark.”

Your eyes don’t meet his when you speak. They’re locked solidly on the flame in front of you, a flame which is beginning to dwindle. A gentle sheen of sweat has broken out on your face and Astarion doesn’t think it’s from your proximity to the heat.

You’re right. You didn’t want to come down here either. A couple of things click into place for him, and his eyebrows raise as Astarion uncovers a secret about you.

“Are you… are you afraid of the dark?”

“Fuck off, Astarion,” you sigh. This is totally unlike you. Usually you’re willing to parry his teasing with your own, engage in a little sharp-edged banter. It’s one of his favourite parts of the day, actually - when he can volley back and forth with you. But right now you simply lack your usual gumption. When he attunes his attention to it, Astarion wonders how he was so obtuse; he can taste the fear in your blood without a drop of it needing to hit his tongue, the way it courses round your body, flooding you with adrenaline.

He hesitates. Part of him wants to slip back into pettiness and attempt to goad you into an argument, at least that way maybe you’d be a bit distracted. But another, far larger part of him, a part which he knows is going to win out, wants to reach out in genuine kindness.

“Ignis,” he mutters under his breath, and a Firebolt appears in his hand, flooding the cave with light. He doesn’t launch it at anything, and the flame is hot and uncomfortable against his palm - but not enough for him to care when he sees how you let out a held breath at the sight of it. The cave is bathed in warm light which illuminates every crag and cranny, a couple of spiders skitter away into splinters in the rock, but you don’t seem to care - quite the opposite. This is the most relaxed he’s seen you in a while.

“Better?” he asks. You nod, grip finally loosening a little on your torch.

“Much better. Thank you, Astarion.”

He saunters over, back against the wall and sliding down the stone as carefully as he can. Your eyes soften in the light he casts. From this close, he can admire every inch of your face. It’s a nice face. He’d like to admire it more.

“Didn’t pin you as the type to be afraid of anything. Well, except for the whole possibly turning into a Mindflayer thing, but that’s a given,” he reasons. You groan in frustration.

“I know. It’s silly, really. I’ve hated it since I was little, and as I got older… well, it became less about the dark itself, and more what might be hiding in the dark,” you sigh. Astarion nods. It’s a simple but honest explanation. It seems that, around every corner in this damned place, there’s another beast waiting to jump out at you. He’s been surprised more times in the past few days than he’s been in his entire life. 

“Well, we’ll be out of here soon. Here,” he nods at the cave-in, “and here,” he gestures widely with his free hand, as if to indicate the Underdark itself.

“Yes. And into a place literally dubbed ‘the Shadowlands’.”

“Exactly!” he agrees, and then, “...oh. Right. Shit.”

His genuine reaction of regret makes you laugh, and he realises he hasn’t heard that in days, either. You let your head fall to the side until it lands softly onto his shoulder. Astarion is filled with warmth, and it isn’t just from the fire.

“If I was going to be stuck with anyone in here, I’m glad it’s you,” you mutter. He’s worried it would show too much of his heart to reflect the sentiment, so he just lays his cheek against your scalp, and waits for the others to find you.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling@wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdousnugget @somethingblu3 @hopeful-n-sad

[kingprinceleo]

Find my Aus sorted by category here: https://deviantart.com/kingprinceleo

Where to find me: Complete List

Ao3 (home to one [1] fic): https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingprinceleo

Updates:

Vampire au is in overhaul progress ! Updated Masterpost (WIP) here

Ships present:

1000 Years Bound-None

Happy Auau- No active ships during the story but hints of Blazamy (married) and Knuxouge (flirting) from a hundreds of years ago. Sonic and Shadow have their typical weird tension with no clear definition as to what they are. (though i may draw non canon fluff art with them)

Fire n Water- None

Vampire Au- Sonadow (Eventual marriage + LOTS of non canon fluff), Blazamy, Knuxouge (flirting), Geraldoom

Desert Vampires Au- Wavouge (exes)

Tag method: Cw (blank)

General/Frequent Content Warnings for my art- Blood, injury, violence, horror themes, body horror, drowning, cannibalism (mostly depicting the urges, minimal straight up gore), gore (very rare, and never extreme)

1000 Years Bound Summary- 500 years into the future, Miles finds himself at the mysterious kingdom of Solar Sanctum, ruled by the long absent King Shadow. Shadow invites Miles to stay as a collaboration of great minds to try and solve the murky state their world has fallen into. It isnt long before Miles starts to realize Shadow is no longer the man he remembers, and starts to get tangled up in his web of madness.

Happy Auau Summary- An au of an au branching off the 1000 Years Bound timeline, or perhaps it's the original…

Sonic the Hedgehog, immortalized by extended use of the chaos emeralds, is alive and well 500 years into the future. His latest adventure leads him to taking down a tyrant king and he finds himself thrust into power when the people of the struggling kingdom declare him to be their next leader. Realizing he's absolutely boned, he calls upon his old friends for help.

Fire and Water Au Summary- Thousands of years ago, the Sol dimension and Mobius had become one planet after a catastrophic event caused by Solaris. After hundreds of years of research and splitting the beast into two halves, Iblis reeked havoc on the planet and threatened to destroy it once again.

Under a time limit and the constant threat of Solaris's return, a baby Sonic was chosen by the royal family to be the vessel to inhabit the flames of disaster.

Present day, Sonic and Blaze's parents have mysteriously passed away and Sonic's coronation is closing in. Desperate, he escapes the castle to pursue a life of freedom as a pirate.

Blaze, with no one left, sets out to retrieve him at any cost.

Vampire Au Summary- Angel Island is the only life Sonic has ever known. Being trapped within the permanent barrier encasing the 8 islands isnt quite his style, so finding a way to destroy it and explore the world below has been his goal for as long as he can remember. Hes got a number of other things keeping him occupied however, trying to prevent the Robotnik Family from taking over total control of the islands. 

When he isnt fighting them off, hes hanging out with his friends, living his best life being a vampire both day and night. When he wants to get everyone off his back, and feed from his favorite vampire hater, Shadow, he uses his magic staff to change his appearance into an alter ego, Hoax the "Tenrec."

Desert Vampire Au Hook- People are going missing in the desert...

[elizabethemerald]

The Son of the Red Hood

The Weight of the Time Stream

Clockwork intervenes in Danny’s life so that he can learn all needs to be the King of the Infinite Realms. Hopefully this time he can be loved and cared for like he deserves. 

The weight of monitoring the Time Stream was one Clockwork would never wish on another being. He had bared witness to horrors that were truly beyond the comprehension of a lesser ghost. He has seen Pariah Dark slaughter his way across the universe. He had seen Darkseid complete the Anti-Life equation and unmake existence. He had seen a rampaging Doomsday wipe out all intelligent life. All in alternate timelines where a hero had failed 

While his power was not absolute, Clockwork's purpose was to guide the Time Stream away from such calamitous endings. A small nudge of a bullet’s path here, a bomb disarmed at the last second there, a villain taking just a moment longer to monologue somewhere in the middle. Whatever it took to keep the Time Stream on the proper path. 

More important than protecting the Mortal Realms, Clockwork focused most of his attention on the Time Stream of the Infinite Realms. The so-called Ghost Zone was connected to an infinite number of dimensions and alternate realities and if the Zone were to collapse, or the Time Stream become marred it would lead to the catastrophic collapse of all other realities until all of existence was unmade. 

It was for the preservation of the Time Stream that Clockwork aided the other Ancients in entombing Pariah Dark. The Tyrant Ghost King would never have been happy with his subjects in the Realms. Eventually he would have wanted to conquer the universe to add all of existence to his control. Even if he somehow managed to slaughter every living thing that existed across all the infinite dimensions and realities he then would have turned his gaze back to the Zone and set about slaughtering and shattering his own citizens. 

Since the fall of Pariah Dark, no single being has had as much of an impact on the security of the Realms and the Time Stream. That was until a single boy, in action so unlikely that in all the infinite timelines Clockwork had witnessed it had only happened once. Daniel Fenton, known to the ghosts as Phantom, became the second ever Halfa. Half ghost, half alive. The moment echoes across the new timeline, carving and reshaping the possible futures from this one radiating moment. 

At first there had been numerous timelines where it was Danny who broke the Time Stream,  or who slaughtered his way across the cosmos. Maybe he went back in time and had accidentally unwritten his own birth causing the timeline to collapse into a singularity or a paradox. Maybe he was tortured into insanity by the Ghost Investigation Ward or his parents and in his madness brought about the end of all things. Maybe he cheated on a test and then watched his family die in front of him and then killed almost all life on the planet. 

However unlike others with this amount of potential for harm, it only took a single instance of Daniel facing his own dark potential future for those possibilities to vanish. Again the boy had the bizarre ability to simply will timelines into or out of existence. There were no longer any timelines where he would harm the Time Stream, or threaten the realities. 

Daniel believed in his own personal rules for himself so strongly that they could rewrite all manner of possible alternate realities. He told himself he had to protect and so he did so. He told himself he couldn’t become Dan, so he didn’t. It was an ability, a belief in himself that Clockwork had rarely seen before, no matter how many timelines he observed. 

When Daniel faced Pariah Dark, unknowingly challenging the Tyrant for the throne of the Infinite Realms, Clockwork could see the future of the Time Stream brighten with every blow he landed against him. When he successfully defeated Pariah in single combat Clockwork watched the numerous time lines wherein High King Phantom led the Infinite Realms into a golden age of peace and prosperity. 

However, even Daniel wasn’t perfect. He was untrained in many areas, self taught in others. There were beings, ghosts or mortals who were better fighters than him and if they challenged him could unmake the good work he could do. He needed to be trained, to be taught all he needed to know about how to fight, how to lead, how to govern, how to negotiate. All of that training would take time, and for once, Clockwork the god of time, who had witnessed timelines and futures beyond count, didn’t have enough time. 

Clockwork had managed to convince Daniel that he would not officially have to take the crown until he was ready. Daniel interpreted that as he had until his eighteenth birthday, only a few short months away now. Clockwork could not see any timeline where the boy did not take up the crown upon his birthday. So Clockwork, who had watched eons pass, was suddenly on a time crunch, to infuse Daniel’s mind with what some ghosts spent centuries learning and perfecting. 

So he had stumbled upon a solution. He needed to push back Daniel’s birthday. But how to do it? If he did the simplest solution and just held Daniel in his clocktower lair, outside of the Time Stream, it would be a matter of hours of instruction before the boy grew bored and left. Any other solutions would end up breaking Daniel’s very shallow trust in Clockwork which could lead to catastrophes in the futures. 

Daniel either had to choose to delay his own birthday, which he would never do because with his birthday also came with freedom from his parents, or he couldn’t know that Clockwork had delayed the day. It was fortunate then that Clockwork had the ability to manipulate a being’s place in the Time Stream. In the common vernacular he could make things age forward or in reverse at any rate he desired. It would be a simple affair to regress Daniel to a younger age, restrict his memories, locked behind certain aging milestones. But what to do with the boy then?

Clock could certainly train Daniel himself, or have one of the other powerful and trustworthy ghosts watch over the deaged boy king. There were however two flaws with that idea. Even before he officially accepts the crown, Daniel could still be challenged by other ghosts, so he would have to be hidden away from the ghosts that would threaten him. The other flaw was that Daniel was only half a ghost. His human half had needs that couldn’t be seen to in the Infinite Realms. He would need to be watched over in the Mortal Realms. 

Where to place a young boy, who would inevitably develop his ghostly powers and his heroic tendencies? Where could he learn to fight or to lead so that he could not be bested in combat and instead lead the Infinite Realms to the brighter future Clockwork had seen? If only there were heroes in the world that could guide the child king. Oh wait. 

There were numerous heroes in the Mortal Realm, many of whom would be delighted to care for, raise, and train a young hero. The Kryptonian, the Amazon, the Atlantean. All of them have things they could teach the boy, their moral codes: incorruptible iron. However, being Master of Time meant weighing all sides to try and gain the most benefits from a decision. While these power houses would be able to teach Daniel much before he took up the crown, they would benefit little from their tutelage. 

Searching for someone who had the skills Daniel needed to learn, the connections to fill in any gaps, and would benefit from raising a lonely and broken child led Clockwork to the Bats of Gotham. The Bat himself wouldn’t do, he had too many children already, and Daniel did not need another absentee or emotionally stunted parent. The children of the Cowl however… there were many options there. Cassandra to learn the way of Shadows, Damian to learn the way of Blades, Richard to learn how to fly even before his powers develop. Daniel would benefit equally from any of the Knights of Gotham, as the siblings would always, in every timeline, reach out to each other to ensure the best possible care. 

There was one that would benefit the most. The one who’s compassion had been drowned in the rage of corrupted ectoplasm. Yet still, fought every day for control, fought to protect. The one who would without question care for a hurt child, who would be calmed by the child king’s aura of pure ectoplasm. And with the network of heroes he would have access to all the help he could ever ask for in the training of his ghost child. 

Decision made, Clockwork turned to look at the floating gears around his head. In one a hero wearing a red helmet was being called to a source of ectoplasm that called to the Pit inside him. Danny had bled on Clockwork’s floor after the last time his parents had caught him in his Phantom form. Clockwork simply kept the blood and then poured it out onto a Gotham rooftop in order to bring his hero of choice into the proper position. 

In another, a tired Daniel flew back to the portal to the Mortal Realms. He had been through a long day. Multiple fights in Amity Park, then a long lesson in Clockwork’s lair. In the last gear, Daniel’s parents descended into their basement with Vlad Masters, the first halfa, otherwise known as Plasmius. Clockwork could have shortened the conversation with Daniel to prevent the coming confrontation, or he could have held him there in the Infinite Realms longer, but this needed to happen. 

He watched as Daniel stepped out of the swirling portal, transforming into his human form mid yawn. The Fentons reacted at once, his mother pulling and firing a blaster in the blink of an eye. Daniel lept back, flight taking over in an instant, one hand clamped over the blaster wound on his side. A flash of light again started to travel up Daniel’s body as his father levied his, much larger, ecto bazooka and fired. A sneer gleaming in Masters’ eyes at Daniel’s misfortune. 

“Time Out.” Clockwork said. The images in the gears froze. The hero and his brother were almost at the rooftop. Daniel was frozen mid transformation. A powerful beam of ecto energy was stationary, stopped on its course towards Daniel’s body. 

Clockwork willed himself to Daniel’s side. If he didn’t involve himself now this would be the worst of Daniel’s tortures at his parent’s hands, almost enough to drive him to a world ending madness. However even this wasn’t enough to overcome Daniel’s strength of character. Instead Daniel would withdraw from the world, turn his back on the humans. It would break him in a different way. 

He tapped Daniel with his staff and watched as the boy regressed, the consequences of puberty undoing themselves before his eyes. He stopped when Daniel was just short of five years old. Daniel would be old enough to learn from his new mentor without being an undue burden on someone not expecting to be caring for a child. And he would have 13 years to learn as much as he could from the heroes. 

Clockwork grabbed the deaged child in his arms then glanced around at the scene he was leaving. Anger and hatred radiating off the faces of Daniel’s parents. Cruel glee on the face of Plasmius. If the Fentons were allowed to live they would never stop hunting Phantom, the ghost they assumed had killed their son. They would keep escalating their attacks until war between the Realms was inevitable. 

Their hatred and rage would only be fueled by the man standing behind them. If Vlad Masters learned that Daniel was in a vulnerable state, he would not hesitate to try and manipulate control over him or to challenge a toddler for the crown of the High King. Under the rule of Plasmius the Infinite Realms would rot away in his constant search for more and greater power. Removing Masters at least temporarily and Daniel’s parents permanently could only be good for realms, at least if Daniel eventually could bring himself to forgive Clockwork for it. 

He tapped a panel of the portal with his staff and watched as the screws holding the panel in place corroded and rusted, aging decades before his eyes. When the screws finally crumpled to dust the panel fell to the ground exposing wires and charged ectoplasm that powered the portal. The ecto blast was directly lined up with the exposed components now that Daniel wasn’t in the way. 

It was the perfect time for an explosion. Daniel’s two companions were at their homes. Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson wouldn’t find out about the explosion until the following morning. His sister, Jasmine Fenton wouldn’t find out about it for a week. He had thought about trying to prevent her from reconnecting with her brother, but the girl was tenacious. It was a family trait. Trying to stop her from finding her brother was like trying to stop the very flow of time. When she inevitably found him, it would do nothing but help the boy’s emotional growth. 

Clockwork pulled Daniel away, changing his clothes from those fit for a teenager to those of a toddler. Daniel might be angry at him later, but Clockwork couldn’t resist the star themed footie pajamas. Bearing the weight of the Time Stream was a lot. He had to take his small moments of enjoyment where he could. 

The two of them appeared on the rooftop in Gotham. Clockwork knew the heroes were only a few roofs away. He set Daniel down on the rooftop next to the small puddle of his blood. Next to the boy, who had during his transformation to a child had fallen asleep, Clockwork placed his gifts. A red beanie saturated with Foley’s ecto signature. A pair of black, fingerless gloves saturated with Manson’s. And finally a teddy bear dressed up as an astronaut. The bear not only contained Jasmine’s ecto signature, but smelled like her favorite shampoo, a mix of her namesake and apple blossoms. Inside he had recorded a final gift from Jasmine to Daniel that the boy would discover later. The last thing he wanted was for Daniel to forget completely about the people who had loved him, even if his memories of them would be restrained for now. 

Clockwork glanced around to make sure that everything was how he wanted it, then appeared back in his haunt in the Infinite Realms. The two gears again showed their frozen scenes, just as he had left them. 

“Time In.” 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see one gear suddenly light up with green light as the portal overloaded and exploded, wiping out the Fenton home. He flicked his wrist and banished the gear away from his sight as he focused on the last. He watched as the Red Hood swung up and onto the rooftop. He watched as the hero came to a sudden stop at the scene before him. And even though he couldn’t see the man’ face through the helmet, he knew his eyes had widened in surprise. 

Clockwork just hoped he had done enough for Daniel to grow up, happy this time, and to have the skills needed to be the best king the Infinite Realms had ever had, or would ever have.

[rosemarymonths]

Introducing Rosemary Month 2023, all throughout October!

You can submit art, fanfics, music, cosplays, meta analysis, shitposts, etc, for the prompts!! I’ll be keeping track of the tags: #rosemary and #rosemary month2023 for submissions!! Or you can simply just @ this acc so I don’t skip over yours by accident!

Prompts:

Day 1: From The Start

Imagine rosemary at their very beginning of their dynamic or at the first step of their romantic relationship!

Day 2: Turtle Consorts

Rose and Kanaya hanging around Rose’s consorts would’ve been pretty cute!

Day 3: Meteorstuck

Imagine any Meteorstuck shenanigans Rose and Kanaya got into together!

Day 4: Hurt/Comfort

Obligatory sadstuck day, but with added comfort for safety measure!

Day 5: First Kiss

Either imagine Pre-Retcon Rose and Kanaya’s first kiss, or the unseen post-retcon kiss! Or maybe you want to explore a different way they could’ve had their first kiss?

Day 6: Quadrants

Time for some rosemary quadrant smearing!

Day 7: Birthdays

How neat would it be to see Rose and Kanaya celebrating each other’s birthdays?

Day 8: Cats

Imagine Rose and Kanaya playing with a bunch of cats!

Day 9: Rain

Rose and Kanaya going through rainy weather, or just explore anything you want to do with rain.

Day 10: Rays

After the rain, Kanaya and Rose finally get some sunshine.

Day 11: Game Over

Explore the absolute heartbreak that is Rose and Kanaya’s deaths, either during the catastrophe or the aftermath within the dreambubbles.

Day 12: AUs

Any AU you want!! Been thinking about a MLP AU lately? A Little Prince AU?

Day 13: Family

Explore either Rose and Kanaya with their own little family, or just them with the other Strilondes/Maryams! Or both!!

Day 14: Alpha Timeline

Imagine either Alpha Rose x Beforus Kanaya, or post-retcon rosemary! Whichever one you like best!

Day 15: Tropes

Explore your favorite rosemary tropes!! Or a trope you’d love to see with rosemary!

Day 16: Scars

Rose and Kanaya bonding over their shared scars, either literal or metaphorical.

Day 17: Flowers

Either Kanaya simply infodumping about her botanic skills to Rose, or just pretty flower art, you decide whatever!

Day 18: Stars

Perhaps Rose and Kanaya stargazing, or aesthetic pieces! Go crazy!

Day 19: Date Night

Imagine Rose and Kanaya finally going on a somewhat decent date this time around.

Day 20: Robots

Assigned meat rosemary day, or just do whatever you wish with robots and rosemary!

Day 21: Double Date

Imagine rosemary going on a double date with another ship you like!

Day 22: Dreambubbles

Either Rose and Kanaya having dreambubble fun times, or perhaps more Game Over angst?

Day 23: Domestic

Explore Rose and Kanaya’s sweet domestic life, as they deserve!

Day 24: Strider Third Wheeler

It wouldn’t be Rosemary without Dave trying to tag along like he’s their five year old son, right?

Day 25: Proposal

Who do you think proposed? Rose or Kanaya?

Day 26: Wedding Anniversary

Rose and Kanaya celebrating their marriage!!

Day 27: Snow

Imagine Rose and Kanaya undergoing snowy weather!

Day 28: Fnaf Day

Exactly what it says. Happy Fnaf Movie month

Day 29: Beach Episode

Imagine Rose and Kanaya just having some beach summer fun times

Day 30: Clothes/Style Swap

A good ol’ fashioned clothing/style swap between Rose and Kanaya!

Day 31: Halloween

Happy Halloween!! Are Rose and Kanaya trick or treating? Passing out candy? Going to a party?Scaring little kids to death maybe?? Do whatever halloween fun you want with these two!

[strawberrypinky]

Mystra and Gale

@legacygirlingreen "see my only experience with Mystra is purely in DND sense, since I do not play BG3, but USUALLY we change the usage of her depending on campaign and what the DM has come up with... so in the BG3 space I am assuming they made her really predatory towards her chosen one?"

Had to make a bit of a separate post for this as this is a bit ✨complicated✨, but my answer is below the cut!

Mystra has changed a lot over the various editions of DnD (more like WotC is killing her off and making a 'new' Mystra with each Edition, but anyway), so I understand why there are so many discrepancies between people's views of Mystra.

BG3 is based on the 5th Edition, but Larian took a few creative liberties. Generally speaking, Mystra is "the Mistress of Magic and Mother of Mysteries who guides the Weave of magic that envelops the world, [...] tending to the Weave, making possible all the miracles and mysteries wrought by magic and users of magic.".

According to BG3, Gale was a prodigy from an early age and eventually studied at Blackstaff Academy to further his talents. From the age of eight, he was mentored by Elminster Aumar, who is widely considered Mystra's "favoured Chosen". I'm not going to delve into the dynamics of Elmister and Mystra here, messed up as they are, because it would take too long.

Point is, Gale, from a young age, was essentially channelling Mystra's divine essence and, as a wizard, worshipping her. And yes - this is important for their dynamic.

Gale eventually became one of Mystra's Chosen, though the timeline was never specified. The earliest Gale could have met Mystra was in 1479, when Mystra was resurrected after the Second Sundering. Gale should have been between seventeen and his mid-twenties at the time, but there are a few canon inconsistencies that make his age challenging to place. Namely, the game takes place in 1492 and recognises Elturel's descent, which canonically didn't happen until 1494, but anywho.

Initially, Mystra was a teacher and muse to him, showing him her realm before eventually becoming his lover. The relationship turned sour/ended when Gale released parts of Netherese magic (absorbing it and creating the Orb) in an effort to prove himself worthy to her and gain access to parts of the weave she previously denied him.Was this wrong of him? Yes. Was there malicious intent behind it? No, absolutely not. Gale wasn't even aware that the magic he absorbed came from Karsus.

As part of his questline in BG3, Gale is tasked with destroying the Absolute with the Orb and is promised forgiveness by Mystra when he succeeds. If you let him use the Orb in Act 2 when finally uncovering what the Absolute is, you get a game over, and the game essentially tells how catastrophic that decision was. Aka, Mystra ain't shit.

As for her and Gale's relationship? While perhaps not inherently predatory in Gale's case (if he met her past the age of 18!), Mystra is known to prey on young boys. Minsc has a line about hiding young boys from her in his homelands if they show an early aptitude for magic.

Generally speaking, I don't think I need to highlight how incredibly messed up their relationship is and always has been. Gale was taught to worship her from a young age and was practically raised to adore the ground she walked on because she commands his very being - magic.

She is a goddess with infinitely more power than him. The power imbalance is insane and does raise the question of "Could Gale have ever said no?" With Mystra's track record, he may have never been able to. While he consented to a more intimate relationship with her (at least there isn't an explicit implication of SA), he was never on equal footing with her. And yes - Power imbalance impacts consent. Mystra is ingenuously responsible for the insecurities he's shown to have in the game and never should've put her hands on him or anywhere near him.

While Gale's hubris makes him incredibly complex and, yes, also flawed, his and Mystra's relationship should never have existed because it is borderline abusive.

[vaguely-concerned]

A short comic about the night Sophia Amell became Irving's apprentice.

CW: Suicide attempt, self harm, blood

*

And this is why for a large section of her life, Sophia would do pretty much anything for Irving without hesitation lol. He was exactly the adult she needed in the exact moment she needed him to be, and that kind of thing puts down deep roots in a person. More context/headcanon stuff behind the read-more! It mentions some mental illness stuff but nothing too in-depth.

Sophia was always a talented student, but as she closed in on her teens and started to come into her magical power truly, some stuff started going very, very wrong inside her. (She’s around thirteen in this comic.) Part of that was down to purely mundane untreated mental illness setting in, as it is wont to do and especially in one’s teens, and also the day-to-day fuckery of living in an environment like the Circle system. But a big component of it was also the relentless and seemingly unending way her magical potential kept unfolding, until there seemed to be no room left inside her for anything but the electrical storm intensity suffusing everything in her mind and her life. It became almost impossible to focus on anything else through the sound and fury of it. None of the techniques she’d been taught were enough to keep her centered or stop her from dissolving into the violence of potential screaming out through every cell of her body. The Bad Times were here and they meant to stay.  

Whatever stuff our souls are made of, hers naturally conducts magic like a motherfucker, helplessly, without pause or relief. She’s a relentlessly humming live wire of magic with no off switch. The Fade is constantly like ‘wow. Wish I could fucking live directly inside of her bloodstream that’d be neat too bad about this Veil thing getting in the way’. This is significantly less cool and more shitty than it sounds like to live with day to day, and doubly so in the Circle — on one hand potential phenomenal cosmic power, sure, on the other: congrats, you are an unceasing whole-person wandering magical tension headache from trying to contain said phenomenal cosmic power (which will absolutely wreck you and everyone around you if you lose control of it for a moment btw). and also there are Templars watching your every step. Don’t slip up ahaha. 

(Aside from any political or image reasons (and initially some deep seated respectability politics too lol), I think this is partially why Sophia has next to no interest in blood magic — Maker help her, her trouble does not lie in a lack of available power haha, it’s in trying to keep her act-of-god levels of available power focused and contained enough to not get fucking blown away by the recoil and leave nothing but a miserably smoking crater around her.) 

She was a straight As, teacher’s pet, never any problem to anyone student, which spelled exactly as much catastrophe for her as you’d suspect. Her only friend was Jowan, whose oblivious self-absorption would be almost cruel if it weren’t so hilariously real and unstudied lmao. (There’s some lingering if largely one-sided in that dimension resentment in that relationship all the way into DA:O. Catastrophic sibling event long before Jowan even realized it lol) No one could see what was happening, and even if she could have found the right words to do so she was so scared of telling anyone that she felt like she was losing control — she’s been told all her life that that’s the Worst sin a mage can commit, and she internalized that good and proper and was so ashamed that she was falling short. 

As these things do in the dark, her desperation and loneliness festered into true despair and hopelessness, which culminated in the night of this comic, hidden away in the most isolated and out of the way corner of the tower she could find. Thank the Maker for Irving, or there would have been no Hero of Ferelden in this timeline.

After he’d stopped the bleeding and covered up the blood well enough that they wouldn’t be stopped if spotted in the hallways, Irving brought her to his office — she was still half-sure she was in soooo much fucking trouble, but actually once they were sat down he just went ‘For formality’s sake I had thought to hold off on this until next year so you might finish your basic studies first. Under the circumstances, though, I think it better to broach the subject now’ and asked her to become his apprentice. 

(When Alistair asks her about it eventually, having spotted the very faint scar that remains on her arm when the light fell just right to reveal it, Sophia tells him: “I was… very confused that night, and he was very kind. I owe him everything you owe Duncan, and more,” and that is basically how she thinks about it for a long time. Irving’s side of that is slightly different, as I’ve tried to outline elsewhere — he doesn’t think she owes him anything, if anything I think he still feels awful he didn’t see how bad it was back then until it was almost too late and is still making up for that in any way he can — but the parental love is very much there on his side too. The way he keeps pushing his luck before Amell/Surana’s Harrowing to give them all the advice and support Greagoir will let him get away with??? Yeah. That’s his baby.)

With Irving’s direct guidance and support and attention to stabilize her, she found better ways to cope and learned to channel her magic into small, practical purposes when it felt like it would brim over in her veins and tear her apart. (When stressed out or agitated, she’ll still reflexively and methodically trace out glyphs to calm herself down haha.)

While all those strategies helped take the worst edge off and left her more or less functioning, I think Irving saw that long-term it wouldn’t be enough, and thus… his plan to send her to the Grey Wardens, where she regularly gets to go off like a live grenade at the one target that’s universally deemed morally and socially acceptable (i.e. the darkspawn). Irving you son of a bitch you did it, you got that girl to adulthood and beyond not only alive but still some definition of sane… and, eventually, even happy. You pulled it off again you machiavellian old fox (too bad about the jowan-shaped collateral damage along the way I suppose but hey. Eggs and omelets right. right.) 

(If the Wardens didn’t come along as conveniently as they did, he might have tried to get her into the King’s army instead, probably. Anything to get her out of the tower, because he — probably rightfully — thinks staying cooped up there really might have killed her in the end. And he’s her dad and can’t accept that.) 

Anyway Sophia is partially my way of playing around with the in-game dynamics of just how wildly, unreasonably OP a mage warden can be by the end of the game, especially through awakening. She was a gifted child, near-fatally so, and from whence most of her character springs. What more can I say. Also wow. Apologies for the parenthesis bonanza, that’s just where my brain is at right now I canot chancge this fhdskja