#and i actually finished this one so there's something to look forward to!!!!!

[inkedinshadows]

Until the Last Breath

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel is injured in battle. Badly. You try everything you can to save your mate, but sometimes, it might still not be enough.

Warnings: heavy angst, blood and injuries, death

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: I finally finished it! My gosh, this was... a journey. And a real challenge. But I'm very satisfied with how it turned out. Huge thanks to Rae @illyrianbitch for giving me a first opinion on this, you're an angel and I love you 🫶🏻

Azriel had shut down his side of the bond. He always did when he went into battle so that you wouldn't feel his fatigue and his anger. His pain.

You hadn't sensed it. He had shut it down so well that when you heard Rhysand's voice in your head, you lost a few years off your life.

Azriel was hurt. They're taking him back to camp. Rhys paused, and you braced yourself. Y/N, it's… it's bad.

You raced past tents and injured soldiers, pushing people out of the way, not caring about the mud clinging to your shoes and shins. You were already calling out for a healer, and when you noticed one stopping in her tracks to look at you, you grabbed her hand and pulled her into a run.

But when you reached your tent, despite your slight panting, your breath caught in your throat.

Three soldiers had helped carry Azriel back, and as they walked past you to leave, they cast you sorrowful glances. But your eyes were fixed on your mate.

Azriel lay on his stomach on the table, his labored breathing echoing through the small space. He was covered in dirt and blood that wasn’t his own. But his wings…

The healer quickly walked up to him to assess the damage. Azriel didn't even open his eyes.

You were frozen in place. You couldn't move. What had once been majestic, powerful wings that Azriel had taken great pride in were now shredded to ribbons. You had seen him hurt before—he had taken arrows, ash-made and poisoned—but this… this was worse. So much worse than any other injury he had ever sustained.

Bile rose in your throat, but you pushed it down. You refused to let tears prick your eyes. You glanced at the healer as her hands hovered over the remnants of your mate's wings, then you finally took a step forward.

“Azriel?” you called, his name little more than a whisper. “Az?”

His eyes fluttered open and immediately settled on you. But they were glazed over with pain.

He tried to move, to lift a hand and reach out to you, opening his mouth to say something. A rasping breath was all that came out.

You were by his side in an instant. Ignoring the constant dripping of his blood on the ground, you crouched down in front of him and cupped his dirty face.

“Don't talk,” you murmured. “It's alright. We're going to save you. You understand? You won't get away from me that easily.”

The lie rolled off your tongue effortlessly, but Azriel knew better. Every breath was a struggle, each heartbeat a reminder of the agony that coursed through his veins. He couldn't feel his wings anymore. His whole back, actually. There was only pain—a blinding pain that threatened to overwhelm him and pull him under.

Your eyes found the healer's, and Azriel didn't need to see her to know she was shaking her head. He'd walked beside Death most of his life, had heard its call more times than he could count, and he knew he couldn't ignore that call any longer. The periodic dripping of his blood on the floor seemed to remind him of it, ticking away the few minutes he had left.

But a new determination settled onto your features. He was your mate. He was yours—yours to love, yours to have, and yours to save. And you would save him. There was no other option.

Standing back up, you grabbed the healer and dragged her to the other side of the tent. You avoided her gaze and that look of sorrow and resignation that only made you want to punch something.

“There must be something you can do,” you gritted out through clenched teeth. She wasn’t at fault for this, you knew, but she was a healer. It was her damn job to save lives. She had to save the most important one. “Anything.”

“He’s lost too much blood,” she replied calmly. “I can't save his wings.”

How could she remain so composed and professional when your whole world was shattering?

You glanced back at Azriel. Even though he couldn't hear what you and the healer were saying, he could tell you were trying to find a way to do the impossible.

He wanted to call you back to him. He needed you by his side in these last few moments. He clung to that thought, to the feel of your hands on his face just seconds ago, fighting against the darkness blurring the edges of his vision.

“Can you save him, though?” you asked, turning back toward the healer. Seeing Azriel like this, struggling just to keep his eyes open, was breaking your heart.

The healer looked confused, and you clenched your jaw. “Can you save him?” you repeated slowly, punctuating each word as if she couldn't understand you. “You said you can't save his wings. But can you save him?”

She finally caught on, and her gaze shifted back to your mate. Azriel didn't even strain to try and listen in on your conversation. He only wanted to ask you to hold him again, but his tongue was sandpaper in his mouth. He couldn't get the words out.

“Maybe,” the healer finally said. “But he's weak. It might not make a difference. He might not survive it.”

Maybe. You could work with a maybe. It was better than nothing.

“Alright, then.” You were already turning to walk back to Azriel. “Let's get to work.”

But the healer placed a gentle hand on your arm, stopping you. You gave her a questioning look.

“I…” She hesitated, glancing at Azriel. “I’ll have to cut them. But the chances of him surviving are still very low.”

You didn't let your heart drop. You didn't let yourself consider what that might mean. If Azriel survived, he might very well hate you for the rest of his life for forcing him to live without his wings. It was a selfish choice, but if the alternative was letting your mate die when there was still some sliver of hope… It wasn't really a choice. You would gladly endure his hatred if it meant he was still alive.

“Do it.”

The healer gave you a sharp nod. “I'll go get what I need.”

Azriel watched her leave, fighting to keep his heavy lids from closing. It would be so easy to just let go, to let the darkness claim him. It was where he had always belonged, and his shadows had gone already. No tendrils swirled around him, curling near his ear to whisper secrets and truths.

But you were still standing too far away from him. Still staring at the tent entrance where the healer had disappeared.

He tried to say your name, but a ragged cough racked his body, sending a new wave of pain through what was left of his wings. Everything hurt. Blood bubbled up from his lungs, its coppery taste filling his mouth as it trickled down his chin.

At last, you turned and raced to his side, grabbing a wet cloth to wipe it away. “I'm sorry,” you whispered. He didn't know what you were apologizing for. He was the sorry one—for failing you, for causing you this pain when he had promised he would never hurt you.

“The healer is coming back,” you continued. Your voice cracked despite your efforts to sound calm and steady. “She'll fix you. You'll be alright.”

You had always been a terrible liar. Azriel knew it, and you knew it too. Neither of you believed your words, but you both clung to them because you had nothing else to hold on to.

“Let me in,” you murmured. Your hands were on his face again, your thumbs gently brushing his cheeks without a care for the dirt smudged on them. “Open the bond, my love.”

Azriel shook his head as best he could, trying to speak again. He wasn't going to let you feel his agony, even if it was watered down through the bond. You were suffering too much already, and though he wanted to let that invisible thread stretch between you, he wouldn't put you through that ordeal.

“Azriel,” you pleaded, your voice trembling. Your eyes locked onto his, and you let him see the raw need to feel him in their depths. “Azriel, please…”

He looked at you for a long moment, but in the end, he let the wall come down. He needed to feel you too—his mate, his love, and right now, his only anchor to this world.

Relief flooded you as he finally opened his side of the bond and the love you shared flowed freely between you, weaving through your very souls. But with it came his pain.

It hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. Azriel saw your eyes widen, heard the little gasp that escaped you, and was ready to shut you out once more. But as if sensing his intention, your trembling hands steadied on his cheeks.

“Don't,” you said firmly. “Let me share your burden.”

Sparing you from it was what he should have done. He shouldn't have let you feel it in the first place. Yet the selfish part of him wanted to keep the bond open, to feel your love and affection pouring into his straining heart—sweetness in the pain, warmth in the cold.

Even as you tried to hide it, panic rose inside you, twisting your gut and threatening to overwhelm you. Where was the healer? Your gaze darted to the entrance again and again, expecting her to walk in at any moment.

Azriel coughed once more, another trickle of blood spilling from his lips. You wiped it away quickly, but you knew more would come. You knew he needed help before it was too late.

“Hold on, my love,” you whispered as you leaned closer. “Just a little longer and then you'll be fine.”

“Li–” His voice was so feeble, interrupted by another fit of cough before he could even finish the word. “Liar…”

Before desperation could root itself in you, the healer finally came back. She placed an array of tools on a smaller table next to the one where Azriel lay, and you looked up at her, hope battling against dread.

Surely, she would get to work. Surely, she would cut off what was left of his wings and save him, and then he would hate you, but he would be alive and that was all that truly mattered.

An older healer walked in. Azriel caught only a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye, but the table with the tools was close enough for him to see what had been placed on top. He had seen enough clippings during his years at Windhaven to know what was about to happen.

Despair twisted his gut, adding to his pain and his fear. If losing his wings meant he had a chance of survival, would he take it? Would a life without his wings really be life?

Suddenly, he was back in his father's dungeon, a helpless child who couldn't fly even though his very blood longed for the skies. Then your face emerged from his memory. Your smile, your bright eyes, all the moments together, the life you had built over the centuries.

Could he do it? Could he give up his wings for his mate? Give up one love for another?

He didn't know what he would choose. But he never got to choose.

“You didn't tell me he was in such bad condition,” the older healer said, giving the younger one a sharp look. “There's nothing we can do here.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. You weren't sure you were still breathing as you stared at them, disbelief and anger building inside you.

“What do you mean there's nothing you can do?”

The older healer turned her gaze to you. Her stern features softened for only a second before she sighed. “He lost too much blood.”

Her hands glowed a faint yellow light as they hovered over the torn membranes of Azriel’s wings. She placed one on his back, and though her touch was warm and gentle, Azriel had to bite back a scream. The pain was blinding, sharp enough to steal what little breath he had left. And whatever she was trying to do… it wasn't working.

“His heart is beating too slowly already,” she stated, pulling her hand back. Azriel let his head fall against the table once more, his breaths shallow and ragged. “My apprentice shouldn't have given you false hope.”

Rising back to your feet, you turned to the younger healer. She'd said there were low chances, but chances nonetheless.

False hope.

The words echoed in your mind, cold and final like a death sentence. Azriel’s death sentence.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides. The apprentice backed away a step, well aware of the raging fury that you didn't bother to conceal as it kept building inside you. But before you could do anything, Azriel groaned, and your attention snapped back to him. He reached out with a shaking hand, the movement slow and agonizing, yet he wrapped his fingers around your wrist.

“It’s alright…” he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

It wasn’t alright. But to him, this was just confirmation. He had known it would be his end the moment those soldiers had picked him up, broken and bleeding, from the battlefield. He was holding on, barely, just for you. To see your face, to hear your voice, to feel your love one last time. But he was so tired, and the darkness was pressing in, and now the healers had spoken aloud what he had already understood.

“No,” you snapped. “No, it’s not alright, Azriel.”

You regretted yanking your hand free the instant you saw the flicker of pain on his face. Guilt surged through you, and you dropped to your knees before him again, taking his scarred hand in yours. Gently, you brought it to your lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I’m so sorry, my love. I just…”

Your voice broke, the words dying on your tongue. You couldn’t stop the tears then, and they rolled down your cheeks in waves. A terror unlike anything you had ever felt clutched your stomach, and you clung to the mating bond as though you were the one who needed a lifeline.

Neither of you noticed the two healers leave, probably to give you some privacy. Your sobs drowned out the clashing of the battle just a mile away from camp, each of them hitting Azriel like a stab in the heart. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what you were going through. For him, it would be over soon. But for you, it would last much longer. He didn’t want to contemplate the possibility of living in a world where you had died, and yet you had to suffer through the same thing because he hadn’t been fast enough to avoid an attack from behind.

He wished it didn’t have to be this way. He wished he could go back in time and turn around one second earlier, or stay with you, in this world, forever. But no matter how much he tried to hold onto life and will his heart to keep beating, he was growing tired. The little strength he had left faltered and diminished with each passing second, and you were still crying and sobbing, still grasping his hand as though it could save him.

“My love…” he croaked before being interrupted by yet another cough. You blinked, lips wobbling as you tried to stop your crying long enough to hear his weak voice. But even without the usual light in his hazel eyes, you still understood what he was about to say.

“No,” you said before he could even start. “Don’t say goodbye, Az.”

You shook your head, and your hands moved to cup his face once more. He closed his eyes, as if feeling your touch was all he wanted.

“Don’t leave me,” you pleaded. You kept pulling on the bond between your souls as though it would keep him here, silently praying and begging the Mother not to take him from you. “You can’t leave me… please, my love, I still need you.”

Azriel felt your desperate tugs on the bond, but all he could do was send his love down the bridge to you. He couldn’t feel his body anymore. There were only your delicate hands on his cheeks, and though he was so damn tired, he opened his eyes to look at you one last time.

“I’ll always be with you,” he whispered hoarsely. He couldn’t even lift his arm to point to your chest, to the heart he had cherished and cradled for centuries, the heart he knew was now breaking, just like his own. “I’ll always be in your heart.”

“Please,” you repeated. It was the only thing you could do—hold on to the childish hope that pleading would mean something. “I can't lose you, I… I can't…”

Right then, a gentle hand pressed against the walls of your mental shield. You let it come down, expecting to hear Rhysand’s voice, but it was Feyre who spoke into your mind.

How is he?

You almost let out a hysterical laugh at the absurdity of the question, but when you answered, your voice sounded as broken as you felt. Forget the battle and get over here. All of you. He’s not… he’s…

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, even now. But Feyre understood, and you could hear the pained note in her voice as she said, We’re coming.

“You have to be strong,” Azriel murmured. It was just a whisper, barely audible, and it drained him to speak, but he needed to reassure you, to make sure you were as alright as you could be. He’d seen your eyes glaze over for a few seconds and knew you’d talked to either Rhys or Feyre. They’d probably be here soon, and they’d take care of you in a way he couldn’t anymore.

A sob shook your whole body. “No,” you replied. “No, just… no.”

You weren’t sure what you were trying to refuse—his plea to be strong, the inevitability of what was about to happen, the unfairness of it all? Did it even matter anymore?

Azriel grasped at the little life left inside of him. His body was already floating on a cloud, and the beautiful features of your face—the lines he knew like the back of his hand—were nothing more than a confused blur. He couldn’t hold on anymore, and he knew it.

“I love you…” he managed to rasp out. He wanted those to be his last words to you. The only words that had ever mattered.

You could see the way his eyes grew distant, the light slowly abandoning them. “I love you too.” Your voice broke as you said them, desperation clawing at your insides like a living beast, sharp nails digging deep into you until nothing else was left. “I love you, but please… please, stay with me.”

You tried to meet his gaze, but he wouldn’t look at you. He didn’t have enough strength.

“Stay with me…”

His eyes fluttered close.

“Please, my love… stay with me.”

His heart stopped beating.

“Please…”

And you felt the mating bond shatter.

Six people rushed into the tent just as you cried out in pain, despair, and heart-wrenching loss. Your screams and wails carried through the whole camp, maybe even the battlefield and the world at large.

Your family knew then. They had come too late.

A clattering sound echoed as Cassian dropped his helmet and then fell to his knees, his wings slumped on the ground and heartbreak written on his dirty face. Mor began sobbing, wrapped in Rhysand’s arms as tears streamed down their faces. Amren brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes shining. Nesta looked like she was about to throw up, but she silently knelt next to her mate and drew him close to her side. Only then did they both start crying.

You didn’t notice any of it. You didn’t notice Feyre approaching you slowly, weeping like all the others and yet trying what she could to be there for you.

“Y/N…” she called gently, reaching out to you.

You shook off the hand she laid on your shoulder as if the touch had singed you. “No,” you growled, the sound more animalistic than anything. Your hands were still on Azriel’s cheeks, and you had no intention of letting go. “Don’t.”

He would open his eyes soon. Your mate wouldn’t abandon you. Not like this. Not when there was still so much more you had to experience together. The centuries you had had with him weren’t enough. You wanted—needed, craved—more, and Azriel would open his eyes, and he would tell you that it was alright, that he would heal and you would keep trying to have the family you both dreamed of.

The minutes passed. Your cries got louder and more desperate, drowning out any sound that came from the rest of your family. You were barely aware of their presence. You were waiting for Azriel to open his eyes.

But he didn’t. You reached for the bond in your soul only to find broken shards of what once was a golden connection built on love and understanding and mutual respect.

He was really gone.

Your Azriel.

Your mate.

Dead.

Dead.

You must have said the word aloud because Feyre reached for you again. Your head snapped up, ready to lash out at her again, to yell at her and everyone else to leave you alone because how could they ever understand what you were going through? How could they ever understand what it meant to lose the love of your life?

But it wasn’t Feyre that was now standing next to you. She had retreated back to where the others stood, her hand clasped with Nesta’s as the two sisters held each other close and wept together.

“Y/N.” Cassian’s voice cracked, but his hand on your shoulder was steady as he crouched down in front of you. “Come here.”

He pried you away from Azriel and pulled you into a hug, even as you fought him. You didn’t want his touch, didn’t want anything that wasn’t hearing Azriel’s breathing and feeling the mating bond come back to life.

You screeched and struggled against his embrace, hands fisting to push him away, to hit him for a reason not even you understood, hoping it would bring you some wicked kind of comfort. But Cassian didn’t let go. He kept his strong arms around you, and the little fight you had left soon disappeared.

You collapsed against him, slumping against his chest as if life had been drained from you too. Maybe it had. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if it did. Your tears soaked into Cassian’s bloodied leathers, your sobs muffled by his embrace.

“I know,” was all he murmured. You could feel his own tears fall on your hair as he tucked you close and rested his cheek on your head. “I know…”

Somehow, the simple acknowledgement of what you were going through soothed you. Just a tiny bit. Enough for you to choke out, “I can’t do this without him, Cass.”

His hand rubbed slow circles over your back. If he was trying to get you to stop shaking, he was failing miserably.

“It’s alright,” he replied quietly. “You don’t have to figure it out now.”

It was reassuring knowing you didn’t have to. Cassian was giving you a chance to grieve, to let it all out, to scream and cry and sob because he knew you needed it. 

So you did.

Emptiness grew inside you until it threatened to swallow you whole, and you let it. You didn’t have to figure it out now. You didn’t want to. You could just let yourself feel, even if it killed you. A part of you had already died, and, just like Azriel, you would never get it back. You would never be whole again.

“We had so many plans,” you whispered. Someone was sniffling, but you couldn’t tell if it was Cassian, someone else, or maybe even you. “I thought… I thought we’d have many more centuries together.”

Cassian’s arms tightened around your trembling form, but before he could reply, another pair of arms slid around you both. You didn’t bother lifting your head to see who it was.

“We all did,” Mor said, her voice weak and broken. “But we’ll be alright, Y/N.”

Shuffling steps drew closer, and then you couldn’t tell who was where, but you still sensed all your friends gathering together to hold you and each other close.

We’ll be alright. You weren’t sure you would ever be alright, not without half of your heart and soul, but… we. Mor had said “we”, not “you”.

You had lost your mate, but they had loved Azriel too. They had lost a brother, a friend, and they were suffering just like you. With you.

“We’ll be alright.” Rhys. Somewhere to your left.

You finally opened your eyes and found him staring at Azriel, still on the table. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your mate.

“In time,” Rhys murmured. His teary eyes found yours, a quiet understanding in them. “But not now.”

For you, it was most likely never. Without Azriel, the future was black and empty. There was nothing to look forward to. You couldn’t face it without him, and you didn’t want to. But you didn’t have to figure it out now.

For now, you let yourself grieve.

2nd a/n: how do writers kill off their characters? Writing this destroyed me. Now I know why SJM always finds way to bring them back to life... my soft little heart longs for a HEA whenever I write, so I'm never doing this again (maybe idk)

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

@booksbypisces i know you asked me to tag you in this months ago. Hope you're still interested! I didn't think it'd take this long 🫣

[lostinlovingrevery]

Skinny Dipping (18+ Only!)

Logan X F!Reader

Plot: You're bored, and you decided to go bug Logan on a hot day

A/N: I actually had this idea in my head FOREVER. This is the first time writing smut, so pls forgive for any inaccuracies. I actually had fun with it! but I feel I still need some work on describing a scene with so much movement happening. You could technically imagine any Logan, but I pictured the X! movies Logan. Comments/critiques welcome and appreciated!

Warnings: Friends-to-Lovers type style, Smut, Unprotected PiV, slight voyeurism, nudity, sex in a lake (watch out for STIs!), it's sorta dubious consent but readers been horny for him for awhile and very eagerly accepts it. Not proofread and I also wrote this in one go.

Word Count: 2996

It was an unusually hot spring day at Xavier's School for the Gifted. The air held a certain dryness that was usually felt in deep July, and the sun was annoyingly bright. It was Saturday, most of the students had gone home to be with their parents, and the ones that stayed here were taken on a field trip by the other professors to a local planetarium. You had some work to finish up, so you stayed behind in your study. It was just you, and Mr.No-Fun Wolverine, who didn’t go either because he didn’t feel like babysitting. 

You were tired of having sat in your study most of the morning. You were almost done with your work and figured you could finish it up in the evening or on Sunday. It was one of the most rare moments you ever had in school- time alone.

Except you weren’t planning to spend it alone.

You left behind your study, your work, to hunt down Logan. Something had crawled in your bones and urged you to go annoy the hell out of him. Your favorite activity. Despite it being a huge mansion, it wasn’t hard to find him- sitting in the living room, watching some old movie you’d probably seen before but couldn’t really care about to remember the name of. What you focused on was the swirl of smoke coming from his hand.  

“Y���know, you aren’t supposed to be smoking in here.” Your voice made him turn his head, giving you a side glance, just to acknowledge you. He purely grunted in response, turning his head back to the tv as he took another long- almost as if he was being obnoxious- puff of his cigar. You walked around the couch to face the front of him, and his eyes tracked you, as he took his time blowing the smoke past his lips, another obnoxious move to rub in your face that he just didn’t care. He leaned back on the couch, spreading his legs in some kind of display of dominance that didn’t really deter you from backing down. It merely just turned you on. 

“Ain’t no one here to complain bub.” He finally says, eyes leaving you and turning back to the tv. You weren’t going to take that though. You moved to step in front of the tv, blocking his view. You crossed your arms. 

“I’m here.” You challenged yourself. “It stinks Logan. Seriously.” 

“I’ll light a candle.” 

“That’ll just make it worse.” 

He shrugged, showing you he didn’t consider it his problem. “You’re blocking my light doll.” He mutters. You kept your spot, arms still crossed, and eyebrow quirked upwards as if questioning if he was going to do anything about it. He looked at you, and finally he gave in, leaning forward, he stubbed the cigar out on the ashtray that he likely had stashed in his room and brought out here, looking at you with his brow drawn together and his lips pursed together in displeasure. You actually could have cared less if he smoked, the stench of cigars had become a welcome smell- because that’s what he smelled like and it had grown comforting to you. Like you felt earlier- you just wanted to annoy him. You could never actually do that though, because he was too fond of you to ever actually be annoyed with you in any shape or form.

You and Logan were close. You were the only person who challenged him when he’d forget his manners and become rough around the edges. You’ve kept him in check since he’s come to the school. You also were the only person who’s truly taken the time to get to know him. You saw beneath the rough exterior, the raised hackles, and the bared fangs- something everyone else saw as aggression, you saw it as self-defense. You broke through his stone-like exterior, his foolhardy confidence, and his flirty way of pushing people away, and found a man who simply was lost in the world, lost in who he was. You found him to be intelligent, compassionate and has a great penchant for being a sweetheart if you just gave him time. To put it simply, you loved him to pieces, for the man he is. He, on the other hand, has been too damn stubborn to let himself experience any joy of being loved and cared for. You knew he felt the same though, you saw the way his eyes would lighten up when he saw you in the kitchen in the mornings, how he would relax when you’d join the X-men meetings and sit next to him, the gentle way he’d touch your shoulder or hand- as if afraid he was going to hurt you. Whatever it was you guys had going on between you, it was being completely unspoken and frankly you were growing impatient. At first, you believed that Logan simply needed time to adjust- then he would make a move. Now though, you think it’s you that needs to make the move. Logan has an incredible ability to be self-destructive and shut himself out from the world. Even if you see the yearning he has in his eyes in front of you right now, you’re not sure he’d ever do anything, purely for the sake that he believes you deserve better.

You know what you want though, and by God you’re going to get it. 

Logan, has met his match in someone equally as bull-headed as he is. 

“Thank you.” You say dropping your arms to your side, and moving away from the tv. You walked over to him, and grabbed his hand. “C’mon.”

“What?” 

“Let's go for a walk.” 

“It’s hot outside bub.” He pulled his arm back, making you groan dramatically. 

“I’ve been cooped up all morning. I wanna go take a hike by the lake.” You say grabbing his hand again, this time succeeding in pulling him off the couch. You knew you’d never be able to actually lift him- as heavy as he is- but he’d just hate to see you struggle. You smiled at him victoriously as he rolled his eyes and sighed just as dramatic as your groan. 

“Fine.” He mutters. He can say no to you once. Twice though? How could he when he’s looking straight into your pretty little eyes, looking so pleadingly at him. 

You did a little dance in victory, a small wiggle of your hips- his eyes couldn’t help catch sight of, as you held onto his hand and pulled him with you as you made your way to the front door, outside in the heat, and down the familiar path that you’ve walked with Logan plenty of times before- whenever either of you just needed to get out together, and talk, towards the lake somewhere on the estate of the school. 

Your walk had started out silent, side by side, your hands brushing against each other. If it wasn’t so hot, you’d actually be clinging to him- you’d hook your arm around his, you’d lean your side against him- he didn’t mind, he was tall and sturdy, and the weight of you pressed against him was grounding. Now though, even though you urged to be near him, the hot sun pushed a space between you. 

Half way on the walk, that’s when you started complaining. “Ugh, it’s WAY too hot for April.”

“Told ya.” he mutters. He glanced at you, and you were tugging on the hem of your neckline, pulling back and forth to allow some air, showing the cleavage of your breast, enough to make him get some dirty thoughts. Something something- licking the sweat off your skin… His eyes darted away from you. 

There was tension building between you both. Something that had been building a long time, you- you didn’t like leaving things unresolved. 

Reaching the lake, you both slowed your pace to enjoy the scenery and the nature around there. Logan wouldn’t admit it, but he enjoyed these walks with you. He enjoyed the ones that were filled with comfortable silence, and the ones where you both couldn’t stop talking, it was rare to get him into a conversation, but you had a way of drawing it out of him. You’d talk about everything from politics, religion, his history, your history, the universe, how bad Scott and Jean's cooking was.  

This walk would be no different, if it wasn’t for your complaining.

“I told you it was hot.” He states again, “But you wanted to go out.” 

“Well excuse me for wanting to stretch my legs, get some fresh air.” You say, glancing at the lake. It looked cool, refreshing. That’s when you get an idea. 

“There’s a whole mansion full of stuff to do-” He says as he keeps walking, He picks up that you stopped, no longer next to him anymore, “Bub?” He turned around, his face dropping as he watched you shed your last item of clothing, and began to run into the water. Once you were up to your knees, you dived in- creating a splash of water that sent waves rippling towards the shore where he stood. His eyes trailed over to where you left your clothes behind, and blood rushed straight down, stirring his cock. 

You popped your head up above the water, your location now deeper into the lake, having to kick your legs to keep you afloat, and you waved at him. He swallowed, as he pictured your naked form- having only gotten a glance of it before you disappeared into the water. His cock throbbed in the confines of his jeans. 

Fuck it

He thought to himself, as he moved to shed his own clothes. You had turned around, swimming small laps in circles, dipping your head underwater to refresh yourself, feeling the inner temperature of your body cooling off. You didn’t notice him taking his clothes off- you somehow didn’t hear him over your splashing as he quietly swam towards you. 

So when his arm came around your waist, turning you and pulling you against him, you shrieked at first. Only to gasp as your breasts came pressed against his chest, the feeling of his coarse hair stimulating your nipples that had become hard from the cold of the water. He barely gave you a chance to catch up to what was happening as his lips crashed down onto yours, making you moan as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You relaxed your legs from kicking, able to rely on Logan who’s already so freakishly tall, was still standing as the water lapped at his shoulders. You marveled at the feeling of his muscled body against yours, his strong arms wrapped around you, god you spent forever imaging him like this.

He nipped at your lips, moving down into your jaw, sucking and biting at the skin there, while his hands ran up and down over your body. One hand pressed to your lower back, the other ran up your thigh, warming your skin that had grown cold from the water temperature, he pressed the hand under your thigh, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his hips- which you eagerly obliged. He groaned,

“You’re gonna be the death of me, bub-” He muttered as he pressed kisses down your neck, “Being a fucking tease like that. You were planning this the entire time weren’t you?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, not responding to his question, as his beard delightfully scratched at the skin of your collarbone. You brought your hands up into his hair, running it through the wet strands and scratching at his scalp gently- making him moan in response. You tipped your head back and raised your hips, softly grinding against his lower abdomen, really also urging him to put his lips on your chest. His mouth sucked and licked the skin of your breast, his hand coming up to fondle and squeeze the nipple of the other, as he twirled his tongue over one, making you moan- a warm, syrupy honey feeling sat in the bottom of your stomach- but it wasn’t enough. 

“Logan-” You whined, your hands tightening through his hair. 

“I know, I got you baby.” He murmured against your skin, right over the place where your heart is located. Adjusting the both of you, he brought his lips back to yours, pressing a few small pecks against them, as he ran his throbbing member between your folds, making you gasp at the sheer size of him. 

“Fuck, you’re big.” You whimpered into his lips, shutting your eyes tight, you could feel him smile against your cheek. 

“You can take it.” He purred soothingly into your ear.

The resistance of the water against your bodies forced you both to be slow. As fast as Logan wanted to fuck into you, he was forced to take his time, as he wrapped an arm around your waist, using his other hand to lead his tip into your entrance. The water provided a natural lubricant for you, although you wouldn’t have needed it, even before now, Logan just had this amazing ability to soak your panties through, unlike anyone else. 

You felt him enter, and gasped, practically a squeal as he pushed into you- music to his ears.

“That’s right-” He moaned. “Make all the pretty sounds you want gorgeous, I got you.” as he pushed deeper inside you, a small thrust of his hips, and he was down to the hilt inside you. Your cunt was tight around him, almost molding around his length, making him grunt as he had to take a moment to not bust inside you right then.

“Oh god-” You gasped, pressed your forehead against his. His nose bumping clumsily against yours, as you felt his own breath began to pick up. His hands moved down to your hips, he dug his fingers into your plush skin, attempting to get as much leverage as he could, before he lifted you up in the water,

It felt like slow motion, the way the lake pushed at you both, as if it was reminding you to slow down, and savor the moment between you. His hands pushed down on your hips, his movements fighting at the water, as he brought you back down onto him again. He continued those movements, angling his hips forward under the water, digging his feet into the sandy ground he stood on. Once he found a steady pace, an angle that sent you squealing, wrapping your thighs tight against his hips, your hands digging almost painfully into your scalp, he kept going. 

“Been wanting to do this for fucking ever baby-” He grunted. 

“Lo-” You whimpered. Every thrust hit that sweet spot inside of you. He glided easily in and out, his hips bouncing against yours, but you wanted him deeper. You spread your legs- your thighs open farther, the water allowing you to easily loosen your limbs and float, his grip on you keeping you close. You gripped onto his shoulders, tipping your head back. Your upper half of your body came out of the water with each thrust, and Logan watched- hypnotized by how your wet tits bounced, and he felt heat pooling inside him. You were so fucking perfect. Everything about you, your face, your lips, your tits and ass. Your personality, your heart. “Lo please-!” You gasped.

“Fuck-” He grunted, bringing a hand to your throbbing clit, as he begin to rub tight circles against it, sending your hips squirming against his. “That’s it, take it all-” He moaned. “Feel good darling?”

You nodded desperately, finally getting that stimulation you needed, as you quickly brought your body back to him, desperate to feel him everywhere as you began to rise to your peak. “Don’t stop, please don’t-” You begged, as you placed open mouth kisses on his lips that he returned. 

“Cmon, cum for me-” He grunted. His thighs were shaking, and he was unsure he’d be able to hold out much longer. He wanted you to cum first, he needed you to cum first. He wanted to see you come undone by him, to feel your cunt pulse and squeeze him so tightly he couldn’t pull out if he tried. “Fuck, fuck, I love you-” He practically whined into your mouth. 

That was exactly what you needed, as you felt your explosive finish finally reach your peak. You screamed his name as your legs wrapped around him, and you buried your face into his neck, moaning and crying as waves of hot ecstasy ran through your body. You cupped his face with one hand.

“I love- I love you too-” You managed to gasp, looking up at him in his eyes. It filled you with a certain pride, as you watched Logan's face become undone, as he thrusted up into you, you could feel his cock throb, and his cum coating your walls inside, making you feel full, and warm. He practically whimpered, carefully pulling out, as he held onto you, his head resting against your shoulder. 

“Fuck, sorry.” He muttered,

“It’s alright, I really don’t mind.” You hum amused. You would have told him to finish inside anyway. 

He sighed, looking up at you. His eyes were filled with adoration as he looked over your face. You smiled, cupping his jaw, leaning forward to give him a sweet kiss, that he happily returned. 

“Feel better?” He asked, a cheeky grin on his face. You rolled your eyes.”You got out, got some air, stretched your legs.”

“Shut up!” You playfully hit his shoulder, pretending to pull away from him, but he didn’t let you go, pulling you back into his arms as he wrapped them around you protectively. 

“Uh uh, you ain’t going anywhere bub.” He purred. “Now that I got you, I ain’t letting you go.”

“It’s about time…” You smiled, muttering against his lips, but he only smiled. You were wrong, Logan did end up making the first move. Turns out, you just needed to keep being a pain in his ass. 

[thelittlewarrior98]

Hello!

So I know that this is an absolute long shot, but I wanted to share this here anyway in the hopes that someone in the Phandom could maybe help me coz I literally just don't know what else to do at this point 🥺🙏

My name is Holly-Jayne but most people call me Daisy, I'm 26 years old and I've been a part of the Phandom for over a decade now like D+P have pretty much always been my most favourite YouTubers and humans in the whole entire universe 💜

I've unfortunately never been able to see them live during any of their tours though as I've just sadly never been able to afford it!

It's always been one of my biggest ever dreams to finally go to one of their shows and maybe even meet them so I can finally thank them personally for everything they've ever done for me 💜

But then late last year I suddenly got very very sick to the point where I became bed bound and wheelchair bound and could no longer eat or drink anything without throwing up and I ended up losing way too much weight to the point where I genuinely looked like a living corpse and I was soooo so tired and in so much pain all the time and I even started struggling to breathe, but then after going through all of this for about 4 months as well as countless doctor appointments, miss-diagnosis including being told it's just anxiety and is all just in my head and also have to stay in hospital got about a week or so, I was very sadly diagnosed with Stage 4 (Terminal) Serous Carcinoma Ovarian Cancer that has spread to multiple areas of my body and I have now also completely lost my fertility because of it 😔💔

I also apparently had over 2 litres worth of fluid on my lungs which is why I was struggling to breathe and could barely even walk up the stairs without my legs just completely giving way.

So I've had to endure 6 very difficult and grueling rounds of Chemo which I actually finished around 2 months ago and I'm now on a targeted treatment that I have to have every 3 weeks for about a year and I also have to take blood thinners every single day for up to 2 years due to a rather big blood clot that they also found on my lung during my 1st round of Chemo!

I also almost died again during my 2md round of Chemo as I had a very bad reaction to it and stopped breathing for a couple of minutes......

We've had quite a few scares which I guess is just my new normal now, but i now as back to normal as I can be with Cancer and I'm very slowly but surely getting my life back together and just trying to live my life as much as I can for as long as I can as even though I'm terminal, I'd like to believe that I'll still be around for many many years to come and D+P have especially helped with his as watching their videos through all of the dark and scary times have always just completely cheered me up and put a smile on my face and they still give me the motivation and determination to fight and stay as strong and healthy as I possibly can be 💜

So yeah, it's probably been the most hardest and most painful year of my life, plus my grandad very sadly and suddenly passed away last October just before all of this happened and then we also very sadly lost my aunt in May of this year after a 16 year long battle with Cancer and my nan was also unfortunately diagnosed with Leukemia around the same time as my own diagnosis, so 2024 just hasn't been kind to us at all!

Soooo so much grief, pain and trauma that we're all still trying to deal with 😔💔

So yeah, when D+P announced the TIT I was absolutely BEYOND happy and excited like yessssss another chance for me to finally go and see them and potentionally meet them if I can get an M&G ticket and finally just something for me to look forward to after this very crappy year!!

But alas, time and luck once again just weren't on our sides as when the tickets were released for both dates we just so happened to be at the hospital for appointments and treatment and they all sold out before I even had a chance to try and buy them 😭💔

So I tried to use one of my wishes to see and meet them instead, but we've unfortunately just found out that the company no longer have any money and can't fulfill people's wishes anymore!!

But the thing is, we submitted the wish absolutely months ago like back when the tickets had just sold out and we never heard back from them at all until now when our macmillan nurse got in touch with them a few days ago, so they never even bothered to tell us which is really annoying and inconvenient because we could have maybe sorted something else out by now, but now we've only got a couple of weeks left and we're just at a complete loss as to what to do as this could literally be my last ever chance!!

Really starting to lose hope over ever getting to see or meet them now and I'm absolutely devastated as we just don't know when or if they'll ever go on tour again and even if they do, who knows if I'll still be here by then or how my health will be!!

I mean I'm always staying as optimistic and hopeful as possible, but we still just never really know......

So yeah, I just wanted to share this in the hopes that someone in the Phandom could maybe help in any way at all??

Idk how or what could be done or anything, but I thought it was worth a shot anyway as I've pretty much got nothing to lose at this point!

I was hoping for Manchester on the 29th btw as that's the only date that I'm able to do.

Thankyou soooo so much for reading all of this if you've actually made it this far, I appreciate it more than you'll ever know!

I'm in this Phandom business for life haha 🤣💜 @danielhowell @amazingphil @danandphilupdates @danandphilhq @danandphilnews @danandphilsaltsquad

[hyuniemyunie]

could you do an imagine about jun-hee (player 222) from squid game x male reader, with the reader being a guard and helping her in the bathroom and then them being hidden together

guard reader helping kim jun hee*ੈ✩‧₊˚

male reader!

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

ᯓ★ The first time the guard, you, bring her food, Jun-hee freezes, unsure if it’s some kind of trap. She’s been conditioned to see the guards as ruthless enforcers, not..allies, especially not to her.

ᯓ★ “Why are you doing this?” she whispers sharply, her eyes darting around the room as if expecting someone to burst in.

ᯓ★ Even after the second or third time, she’s still wary. She eats the food but watches the guard closely, waiting for the moment when he might turn on her.

ᯓ★ She hesitates to speak at first, her guard (no pun intended ahah..sorry.) firmly up. She’s not used to kindness in this place, and it feels too good to be true.

ᯓ★ Over time, she starts to see that the guard’s actions are genuine. You bring her things she needs. water, extra blankets, or even something to ease her pain.

ᯓ★ “Thank you,” she mutters one day, avoiding your gaze. It’s the first time she’s expressed gratitude, and it catches even her by surprise.

ᯓ★ She begins to wonder why you're helping her. Are you just a good person? Do you pity her because she’s pregnant? Or is there something else?

ᯓ★ “You’re risking a lot for me,” she says one day, her voice quiet but firm. “I don’t understand why.”

ᯓ★ For the first time since entering the games, Jun-hee feels a flicker of safety. She knows it’s fleeting, but the small acts of kindness give her hope.

ᯓ★She starts looking forward to the brief moments when you come to check on her, your silent presence a small comfort in an otherwise hostile environment.

ᯓ★ One day, when the you hand her food, she doesn’t just take it silently. Instead, she looks up at you and says, “You don’t have to do this, you know.” Her voice is softer than before, almost grateful. you don’t respond, but your lingering gaze tells her enough.

ᯓ★ As her trust grows, so does her fear for you. She knows how dangerous it is for you to be helping her, and she begins to worry about what might happen if you're caught.

ᯓ★ “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispers one day, her hands clutching the food you've brought. “If they find out…” yet you shush her, shaking your head before she could finish her sentence.

ᯓ★ Though you don’t talk much, or at all, Jun-hee starts to notice little things about you. the way you linger a moment longer than necessary, the slight softness in your movements.

ᯓ★ She begins to feel a quiet connection, even though she knows nothing about you—not even your name, or hell, your face.

ᯓ★ She starts paying close attention to your movements. Even though you wear a mask, she notices how your posture softens when you're with her, the way your head tilts slightly when she speaks.

ᯓ★ you, the guard, isn’t used to comforting someone, and his attempts to help her with pain or offer support are clumsy but endearing.

ᯓ★ Once, when she winces from a sharp cramp, he awkwardly hand her a warm cloth. She chuckles softly, despite the pain. “Thanks… I think.”

ᯓ★ you don’t talk much, but Jun-hee begins to feel like you understand her struggles in a way no one else does.

ᯓ★ Sometimes, they’ll sit in silence for a few moments before you leave, and she finds the quiet companionship strangely comforting.

ᯓ★ The guard starts bringing her little things beyond just food—extra socks, a scrap of fabric to use as a makeshift pillow, even a tiny trinket he found somewhere.

ᯓ★ She holds onto these items like lifelines, each one a reminder that someone cares about her and her baby’s survival, unlike the actual father of it.

ᯓ★ One day, the guard brings her something unexpected—an extra ration of fruit, the first fresh food she’s had in weeks. She laughs softly, the sound surprising even herself. “You’re full of surprises,” she says, her smile genuine for the first time since entering the games.

ᯓ★ Despite her initial reluctance, Jun-hee starts to depend on the guard’s visits. His small acts of kindness become the only thing keeping her grounded in this death game.

ᯓ★ Jun-hee knows she can’t fully trust anyone in the games, but the guard comes closer than anyone else ever has, comes closer to a father her baby never had.

[overlyenthusiasticfictionreader]

Oh, delightful, thank you for the tag @brunheiffer!

Last song: Moonlight, from the Beacon Pines sound track. Needed a soundtrack to cook dinner, and Beacon Pines delivered.

Favorite color: Blue, with green tinge. Teal and aqua, my beloveds.

Last book: I'm in the middle of the Overlord light novels (just finished #6). In the midst of that, I started/finished Axiom's End by Lindsay Ellis. It definitely has the MegOp vibes /chef's kiss

Last movie: that we actually paid money for was Transformers One, which I greatly enjoyed. That I dug out of the DVD/Bluray pile was... Big Trouble in Little China. Baby Kurt Russell, so adorbs. Surprisingly still getting new fanfic in 2024. Amazing!

Last tv show: that i finished was Loki. Delightful, although i have yet to dip my toe into any fanfic. Also currently working through the Black Clover anime (episode 150-something, i think).

Last thing I searched online: translations of hobo signs! to support a fanbind >.> I am not planning a life on the rails ;)

Current obsession: I restored an antique guillotine, and i finally started using it. Chop Chop Chop! Fandom obsession... I just reread a bunch of Homestuck fanfic? ongoing, never ending obsession ;)

Sweet/spicy/savory: i have to say savory is what i enjoy most. The recipes i cook most bear this out! I won't say no to sweet though :D

Looking forward to: various meetups with the local bookbinding crew this year. The last meetup was hilarious, gosh I wish I lived closer to everyone!

People I’d like to know better but no pressure! @white-aster @wearmanyhats @tainry @canon-in-too-deep @towns-end-bindery @simply-sithel and you know, whomever wants to play!

In general, I would love to be more social on here, I'm just not actually good at it :) Anyone is free to tag me or send a question, whatever!

Ten people i’d like to know better

Thanks for the tag @hermiola

last song: one of the songs I loved most lately is 'In The Modern World' by Fontaines D.C.

favourite colour: blue

last book: that is not fanfic? 😂 The last book I've read is Persuasion (and yes, it was my first time). I'm currently reading Emma and a very Italian book written by the same awesome author who tagged me for this game (@hermiola 💜)

last movie: I can't tell you the last 'new' movie I watched at the cinema because I'm a bit ashamed (it's a Xmas movie made by two Italian youtubers, but what don't we do for our kids?). Last movie I watched on my couch, though, is Underworld: Rise of the Lycans (and yes, I don't feel fine about it 🤣)

last TV show: I'm watching THERE SHE GOES for the first time and I've just re-watched Around the world in 80 days. I'm also currently re-watching Scrubs and Staged with my husband (his first time, he's loving it 😂). Last 'new' show I've watched and finished is probably Dead Boy Detectives, though. Oh, I'm also currently re-watching Good Omens. Like constantly, always.

sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury

last thing i searched online: holiday vacation destinations for next summer (because the kids, again, you know 😃)

current obsession: Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens-Good Omens. Probably, also the whole M+D world (so, Staged too, apparently) 😂

looking forward to: those fu**ing pictures of Michael and David with dyed hair.

ten people i’d like to know better: (no pressure tags 🤩)

@anatomic-girl @ineffablerainstorm @somewhere-in-wales @captainblou @firephoenix2305 @phoen1xr0se @sunrisesinthesuburbs @bellisima-writes @yokohamama @missunderstoodlyrics

[anincompletelist]

ㅤ♡ end of 2024/start of 2025 fic recs! ㅤ♡

my previous recs can be found under this tag!

happy new year everyone! :D I have been so far behind on my tbr list lately but I have managed a few that I've thoroughly enjoyed and felt like sharing! it is by no means a complete list - ha - but I grabbed a few I'd made note of in case anyone is looking for recs.

happy reading and a very happy new year to you all! x

in no particular order:

ㅤㅤㅤSweet Rivalry | bleedingballroomfloor | E | 11k

“Hunter’s entering again,” Alex explains before Henry can finish, “and somehow, that fucker beat both of us, even though he has half the skill of both of us combined. We’ve dominated the bake off year after year. If we want to see him go down, this is the only way to ensure that.” Henry blinks. “So you want to —” “Gang up so we can beat the shit out of Hunter, yeah. Were you even listening to anything I just said?” [Or, Alex and Henry are rival bakers day-to-day, but a newcomer in the Park Slope Christmas Cookie Bake-Off has them becoming a lot closer than originally planned.]

All my promise and my pride (all my fear and all my fight) | @kiwiana-writes | E | 10k

“And the thing is, I get it.” He grips his phone hard enough that he knows he’s risking cracking the screen again, barrelling forward before Henry can interrupt him with bullshit platitudes. “They’re both out there trying to fix the whole damn world to make it a little better for their trans son, but fuck, I miss being able to come home and having that be the one place I didn’t have to deal with any bullshit, you know?” The silence that follows is so absolute, Alex pulls the phone away from his ear to check that the call hasn’t dropped. “Henry?” “I’m here.” Henry’s voice is cracked and hoarse, and he must realise it at the same time Alex does, because he clears his throat before speaking again. “Alex, I don’t—did you mean to tell me that?” [Or, Alex is a stealth trans guy. That doesn't stop canon from barrelling ahead.]

(of everyone i ever knew) i'm giving it all to you | @alasse9 | T+ | 18k

[In a world where the be-all and end-all of relationships is determined by soul resonance, Henry can’t have a soulmate and Alex experiences soul resonance in such a disruptive way that he just doesn’t want one. Against all odds, this is their story.] So he obediently shuffles after June and Nora to say hello, trying his very best not to get distracted by all the connections his brain is shouting at him about. He’s actually trying so badly not to get distracted that he ends up not realizing it’s his turn to say hello to Prince Henry until he’s right there in front of Alex, holding out a hand, and it means he doesn’t have time to register much outside of wow, are his eyes really that blue? and that’s less of a smile and more of a grimace before their hands touch. And for the first time since puberty hit, it’s not a sensory shock, it doesn’t feel like someone’s soul is shouting at him. It’s peaceful. It’s— “Quiet,” Alex whispers. “Your soul is so quiet.”

hit me(n) baby one more time series | @bananzie | M | 15k

(no summary for the series as a whole but it's a&h as hit men! beautiful and captivating, and feel free to check out their entire whumptober as well if it's your thing -- it typically isn't mine but I ADORED all the works in the series!)

Whole Package Babe (I Like The Way You Fit) | @fairflowered | E | 3k

The thing is — they’ve talked about this. They’ve talked about it a lot, Henry fucking Alex. The mechanics of it, the things they’d need to order, if that was even something either of them wanted. (They wanted it).

King Alex and the Little Prince | @smc-27 | M | 16k

“We’ve a proposal. As a show of good faith, Her Majesty is willing to ally our kingdoms the old fashioned way.” Alex glares across the table. “What does that mean?” Philip tips his chin up. “There is a prince. He is yours if you’d like him.” Oh, for fuck’s sake.

+

and that's all for now! my goal is to finally get around to reading both more fic and physical books in the near future, so I will keep you all updated as I go along :D

x

[myfavouritefoodismilkbread]

Title: Unspoken Words

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hospital/Accident, Emotional Overload, Miscommunication, Hurt/Comfort, Crying Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Summary:

Bang Chan has always been the type to pour everything into his work, his friends, and his music—leaving little for the one person who needs him the most. On your anniversary, you find yourself sitting alone, waiting for him to notice the cracks in your relationship. But when the worst happens, Chan realizes too late how much he’s taken you for granted, and how far he’ll go to make it right.

Author’s Note:

Hey everyone, I hope you'll enjoy this! 💕 This one’s been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I’m so glad I finally finished it. It’s a bit angsty (okay, a lot angsty), but it has a happy ending. Just wanted to share my love for Chan and this idea I had about miscommunication and making up after a tough moment. I hope it hits right in the feels!

As always, feedback is welcome! Reblogs and comments are appreciated. 💖

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

Bang Chan had always been the kind of person who gave all of himself to others—his friends, his family, his music. It was one of the things you loved most about him. But lately, it felt like there was nothing left for you.

You sat in his studio, a place that once felt like your second home, the faint hum of his unfinished track filling the silence. He was in his chair, facing the monitors, hunched over his laptop as if you weren’t even there.

It was your anniversary. You’d been looking forward to this day for weeks, hoping it would be a chance to reconnect with him, to remind him that there was still a you and him beneath all the chaos of his life. But as you watched him work, barely acknowledging your presence, something inside you broke.

“Chan,” you called softly, your voice strained.

“Hmm?” he replied, not turning around.

You swallowed hard, fingers clenching the fabric of your sweater. “Did you forget what today is?”

He paused, his hands hovering over the keyboard. Slowly, he turned to face you, and the guilt in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“I—” he started, but you didn’t let him finish.

“You forgot,” you said, your voice trembling. “I can’t believe you actually forgot.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, standing up. “I’ve just been so busy with this project, and I lost track of time. You know how much pressure I’m under right now.”

“Pressure?” you echoed, your voice rising. “Do you think I don’t know that? I’ve watched you work yourself into the ground for everyone else, Chan. But what about me? What about us?”

He frowned, running a hand through his hair. “You know how important this is. I don’t have the luxury to stop and—”

“To stop and what?” you interrupted, your voice cracking. “To stop and care about me? To stop and make me feel like I even matter to you anymore?”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his tone sharper now. “You do matter to me.”

“Then why don’t you show it?” you shot back, tears stinging your eyes. “Why do I always feel like an afterthought?”

The silence that followed was deafening. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. And that was worse than anything he could’ve said.

You grabbed your bag, standing up. “You know what? Forget it. I can’t do this right now.”

“Wait—” he started, but you were already walking out the door.

The sound of it slamming shut echoed in your chest like a gunshot.

You didn’t hear from him after that. Days turned into a week, and with each passing moment, the ache in your chest grew heavier. You kept hoping he’d call, that he’d apologize, that he’d say something. But he didn’t.

And so you told yourself it was over.

Chan, on the other hand, was falling apart. He’d thrown himself even deeper into his work, hoping it would distract him from the gaping hole you’d left behind. But it didn’t work. Every note he wrote sounded wrong, every lyric felt empty.

Your voice haunted him, the way it cracked when you said, Why don’t you show it? He wanted to call you, to tell you he was sorry, to promise he’d do better. But every time he picked up his phone, he froze. What if you didn’t want to hear from him? What if it was too late?

It was the day of a major performance, one of the biggest stages of his career. The members were buzzing with excitement, but Chan felt nothing. His mind was somewhere else—on you.

He sat backstage, scrolling through old photos on his phone. There was one of you from months ago, sitting in his studio, laughing at something stupid he’d said. You looked so happy then. He stared at the photo, his chest tightening.

He should’ve called you. He should’ve done something, anything, to fix what he’d broken.

His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. It was a call from a mutual friend. Frowning, he answered.

“Hello?”

“Chan.” The voice on the other end was frantic. “It’s Y/N. They—they were in an accident.”

The world stopped.

“What?” he breathed, his heart pounding.

“They were hit by a car. They’re at the hospital. I thought you should know.”

Chan didn’t hear the rest. He was already on his feet, ignoring the confused looks from the members as he grabbed his things and bolted out the door.

When Chan arrived at the hospital, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The smell of antiseptic, the fluorescent lights, the sterile white walls—it all felt wrong.

A nurse directed him to your room, and when he saw you lying there, bruised and unconscious, he broke.

He sank into the chair beside your bed, his hands trembling as he reached for yours. “Y/N…” His voice cracked.

The guilt was suffocating. This was his fault. If he hadn’t pushed you away, if he had just been there for you, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I should’ve called you. I should’ve told you how much you mean to me. I’m such an idiot,” Chan choked out, gripping your hand as if letting go would make you disappear. “I’ve been so caught up in everything else that I forgot the one thing that matters most—you.”

His voice wavered as he kept talking, even though you couldn’t hear him. “I thought I was doing the right thing, working so hard for our future. But what’s the point of any of it if I’m not there for you? If I can’t even make you feel loved?”

The room was silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor. It was the only reassurance he had that you were still here, still fighting.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you to wake up,” he whispered, leaning closer. “Please, Y/N. I need to make this right. I need to tell you how much I love you, how sorry I am for everything. Just… just give me one more chance.”

His tears fell freely now, and he pressed your hand to his forehead, his body shaking with quiet sobs.

Hours passed. Chan refused to leave your side, ignoring the nurses who told him to take a break. He stayed there, holding your hand, whispering apologies and promises into the quiet.

When you finally stirred, it was so faint he almost missed it. Your fingers twitched against his, and his head shot up, eyes wide with hope.

“Y/N?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyelids fluttered open, your gaze unfocused at first before it landed on him. “Chan…?”

Relief washed over him so intensely it felt like he might collapse. “You’re awake,” he breathed, his hand tightening around yours. “Oh my God, you’re awake.”

You winced, the pain from your injuries making it hard to move. “What… happened?”

“You were in an accident,” he said quickly, his voice thick with emotion. “But you’re okay now. You’re going to be okay.”

You frowned slightly, confusion mixing with the lingering hurt from the fight. “Why are you here?”

Chan’s heart broke all over again at your words. He leaned closer, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with regret. “Because I love you,” he said, his voice trembling. “And I’m so, so sorry for everything. For making you feel like you didn’t matter. For not being there when you needed me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you remembered the fight, the pain of walking away from him that night. “I thought you didn’t care anymore,” you whispered, your voice raw.

“I care more than anything,” he said, his hand gently cupping your face. “I was just too stupid to show it. I let my work consume me, and I took you for granted. But I swear to you, Y/N, I’ll never make that mistake again. You’re the most important person in my life, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you.”

Your tears spilled over, and you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you. “I just wanted to feel like I mattered to you,” you said softly.

“You do,” he said, his voice breaking. “You always have. I’m so sorry I made you feel otherwise.”

Chan stayed by your side for the rest of the night, refusing to leave even when the nurses tried to insist. He helped you drink water, adjusted your blanket when you shivered, and whispered soft reassurances whenever you seemed restless.

As the hours passed, the weight of the fight began to lift. There were still things that needed to be said, wounds that needed time to heal, but for now, you were together. And that was enough.

The next morning, as the sunlight filtered through the hospital curtains, you woke to find Chan still sitting beside you, his head resting on the edge of your bed. His hand was still wrapped around yours, his grip firm even in sleep.

“Chan,” you whispered, gently brushing his hair out of his face.

He stirred, his eyes fluttering open. When he saw you looking at him, a tired but relieved smile spread across his face. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice still weak but steady.

He sat up, his expression serious. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Water? The nurse?”

You shook your head. “I just need you.”

His eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of gratitude. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “Not now, not ever.”

You squeezed his hand, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the pain. “Good. Because I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”

He chuckled, wiping his eyes. “Fair enough. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

And you believed him.

True to his word, Chan made changes. He started setting boundaries at work, learning to say no when things became too overwhelming. He made sure to carve out time for you, even if it was just an hour at the end of a long day to sit and talk.

It wasn’t perfect. There were still moments of stress, arguments, and the occasional doubt. But the difference was that he never let the silence linger. He made it a point to tell you how much he loved you, how grateful he was for your patience, and how sorry he was for ever making you feel unimportant.

And every time he did, you reminded him that love wasn’t about being perfect—it was about showing up, even when things were messy and hard.

Together, you rebuilt what had been broken, one word, one moment, and one promise at a time.

[adamnsey]

new chapter of When The Fog Clears up now and she's a doozy..... cryptic adam parrish fans come get ur dinner......

[cent-scratchnsniff]

here together

[art--harridan]

[Image description: A digital drawing of Amanda Young from the Saw franchise. She's wearing her outfit from the third film, but has her hair from the first. She's wearing the reverse bear trap, which leaves only the top half of her face visible. Her eyes are open wide and staring directly at the viewer. Eyeliner runs down her cheeks. In one hand she holds overflowing needles which are falling from her loose grasp. In the other she has a tape recorder. Her arms are stiff, as if she's a posed mannequin. Bandages are wrapped around both of her wrists. These bandages, the tape recorder, the needles and the reverse bear trap are all coloured a bold light blue. Amanda is coloured bright white with grey shading, while the background is a darker grey. It also has a subtle spiral pattern to it.]

[horatiocomehome]

ISAT is perfect for fandom activities, like it's got worldbuilding! It's got angst! It's got awesome characters and found family and banter! It's got ANGST! It has TIMELOOP! Did I mention the ANGST!

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Back to your blog to look at your wonderful lofe-giving art

Charles looks so cute with the blush on and so sexy with the bdsm and crop top on ajfkakfk awoooga bark bark bark, drooling, looking very disrespectfully, staring, daydreaming, licking my screen afjkakkk

Also following that Charles bdsm and crop top combo (already very deadly) with hot fox haired magneto (ahckskfk deceased)

welcome back to the blog to ogle anon, lovely to have you 😌 !!! thank you for enjoying my bdsm charles art... i do love drawin blush i aint gonna lie ... i dont advise lickin the screen tho ... but everything else is encouraged 😌

the silver fox that erik is IS pretty deadly this is true... and that beyond his ability to fold anyone like an omelette .... thank you my friend ..

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

[sysig]

Somehow, persisting despite the likelihoods and odds (Patreon)

[fictionadventurer]

Potential January Reading:

A Bell for Adano by John Hersey

The Foxhole Victory Tour by Amy Lynn Green

The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder

Something by Pope Benedict XVI/Joseph Ratzinger

A classic (new-to-me or reread)

[youtube-fucker]

Day Seven, woohoo!!! Ignore the cut in the hour-long one. I didn't wanna show me drawing the ID (probably would've made it closer to around two hours if I didn't cut it). Ignore the little USB disconnected sound, I was using a drawing tablet. Also be nice about the new end cards. I drew them myself. I am good with small-scale things, not larger ones. (Videos) Fun Fact for today: I made that new ending because I felt bad about Clover dying in every ending once I changed Genocide. I felt I had to do something to let them be happy, so here it is! Main Point for today: Favorite Ending? Gonna exclude the one I made because that seems like cheating, True Pacifist. I don't need to explain why, I think.

Credits can be found HERE!