#because she was never truly loved…only tolerated

[infamous-light]

Their Eyes, Your Chains

Yandere Agatha & Rio Headcanons

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Their Eyes, Your Chains

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Possessive/obsessive behavior, yandere, manipulation, threats, stalking, jealousy

| Agatha

Agatha first discovered you on the outskirts of Westview. The instant her eyes landed on you, something primal stirred deep within her – an insatiable hunger that she couldn’t quite place. You looked so fragile, so misplaced in a world that would sooner consume you than offer kindness. At that moment, she knew she had to have you. You were perfect.

To ensure your safety – and her claim on you – Agatha placed a magical sigil on you, visible only to her. It would flare up if you strayed too far from her or if someone with ill intent approached you. You were hers and she would not tolerate anyone or anything that dared to threaten that bond.

Agatha controlled every aspect of your life – where you went, who you spoke to, and how long you stayed away from her. She masked her actions as “protection,” but the truth was clear: her obsessive need to keep you close drove her every move.

She was territorial. To Agatha, you belonged to her, and she allowed no one else to get too close to you.

Despite her possessive nature, Agatha showered you with attention, gifts, and affection, but her love still felt suffocating.

When you pushed back against her control, she alternated between cold fury and honeyed words, making you feel guilty for wanting freedom. “You don’t understand, darling. I do this because I love you. No one else will protect you the way I can.”

If you ever did manage to leave her, Agatha would go to terrifying lengths to bring you back. She would track you across the ends of the earth, twisting reality itself to prevent your escape. She might even cast a powerful spell to trap you in a dreamlike illusion, where you were blissfully happy and unaware of her manipulations, ensuring you would never wish to leave her side again.

Agatha’s most severe threat was to bind you to her permanently with a soul-link spell, tethering your life force to hers so escape would be impossible. “You are mine.” Yet, unbeknownst to you, she had already decided to cast it the moment she met you.

She frequently called you terms of endearment like “darling,” “my love,” or “pet.”

Agatha wanted you, and she would stop at nothing to ensure that you were entirely, irrevocably hers.

| Rio

As the personification of death, Rio saw you as someone destined to be hers. All living things would inevitably belong to her in the end, but she didn’t want to wait for that – she wanted you now and forever. Her obsession with you felt timeless, as if it had always existed, lying dormant until the moment it could finally flourish.

Rio preyed on your fear of mortality to keep you dependent on her, constantly reminding you how fleeting your life was and how frail you were compared to her eternal nature. “They’ll all leave you eventually. But me? I’ll always be here. Isn’t that what you want – someone who’ll always be here for you?” Her words burrowed into your mind, twisting your emotions until you could no longer tell if remaining by her side was truly your choice or hers.

When she was in a particularly indulgent mood, Rio could be achingly sweet with you, though her sweetness was always laced with a dangerous possessiveness. She would hold you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, her hands cold but her touch inexplicably soothing. Yet in the same breath, she would whisper unsettling things like, “You're mine, sweetheart... forever and always. No one else can ever have you.”

Rio doesn’t tolerate anyone getting too close to you. She was convinced that she alone was worthy of being by your side. After all, she was inevitable, eternal – the one destined to claim your soul in the end.

If she perceived anyone as a threat to her claim over you, they had simply disappeared. When you confronted her about it, Rio’s dark eyes narrowed, and her voice carried a chilling warning: “I don’t like sharing. Do I need to remind you what happens when people overstep?”

If you dared to defy her, Rio would turn volatile. She would threaten to bring death to those you love or cause harm to innocent people, showing you the lengths she would go to keep you bound to her. She would make you feel like you were the one in the wrong, insisting that only you could “end her loneliness” or that no one else could ever understand her the way you do.

In extreme circumstances, Rio would remind you in a low, bone-chilling voice that no mortal can escape death – and by extension, her.

No matter how far you fled, no matter how cleverly you tried to hide, Rio would always find you. 

She didn’t just crave your love – it was deeper, darker than that. Rio demanded every piece of you, body and soul.

To her, you were the flickering light in an eternal void. You were her meaning, her obsession, her undoing.

| Agatha & Rio

God help you.

Agatha and Rio had both claimed you as their own. Neither of them could imagine a reality where you belonged to anyone but them, and each had made it clear that you were theirs and theirs alone. “You belong to me, just as you belong to her.” They would whisper, almost in sync.

Agatha’s possessiveness was passionate and fiery. She would often press herself against you, her hands grazing your arms or waist to remind you of her presence. Rio, on the other hand, had a more subtle approach – she would lean in close, her breath warm against your ear as she murmured soft, possessory words or let her fingers lightly trace the back of your neck.

Both Agatha and Rio were quick to notice any tiny change in your behavior. If you were quieter than usual, Agatha’s gaze sharpened, and she would press you for answers, “What’s wrong? Tell me.” Rio, however, will casually drape an arm around your shoulder, murmuring, “Who upset you? Just say the word.” Neither will rest until they know what’s troubling you and how to make it right.

Together, Agatha and Rio were a constant reminder that no matter where you go or what you do, you belonged to them and they’ll ensure that it stayed that way, forever.

[hobermallowed]

do you ever think about how Claudia kind of reverted into an actual baby child after she’s with Lestat and Louis because for the first time in her life she felt safe and loved?

[shhhhimwatchingthis]

My favourite underrated thing about Louis de Point du Lac is that he truly is the least curious vampire to ever be made and he does not give fuck about vampires despite being one.

Its Claudia who goes to libraries, reads the folklore, tries to learn as much as she can and pushes Lestat for answers about who made him and where the others are. Claudia says Vampire Pride and Louis says hmmm Vampire Tolerance.

And Louis...truly does not care about vampire history,law, culture. He's never even thought to ask. There are vampire laws?...ok...Lestat never cared about them and he's not going to either, lol. He's broken a few and he will continue to do so. Oh you have a coven? he's not gonna join it, he's gonna do his own thing. but good for you good for you.

the 500+ year old Coven Leader, he's gonna call Louis, Maitre, actually.

He has fire powers? thats kinda cool. he'll learn that but only cause it lets him vent his feelings about Lestat.

Lestat and Armand say the name of the vampire queen in front of him and Lestat straight up says, "Louis has no idea who that is" and do you think Louis cares, outside of the fact that for some reason it means he can't kill Lestat? No! Do you think in the 77 years he's been with Armand he ever took 5 minutes to ask a follow up question? No!

Do you think he will care about Akasha in season 3? Doubt it! Outside of her obsession with Lestat, who is the only person left on the planet he seems to be able to filter Caring About This Shit through

He blatantly breaks the 3rd law and publishes a book about being a vampire and when the other vampires get pissed not only does he not apologise he literally sends them his location and says 'you wanna fight? lmao don't miss'

I love him. Daniel Molloy is gonna need to bring his A game because Louis will not be solving a single mystery next season, nor would it even occur to him to try.

[kavehater]

I MEAN THIS IN THE MOST NOT COCKY WAY POSSIBLE BUT I GENUINELY THINK THAT EVERYONE NEEDS TO BE LOVED THE WAY I LOVE PEOPLE

[zyafics]

CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you

you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if it’s bad, look away!!)

WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb) | x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader

Content — 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks

Word Count — 2.2K

lıllılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller

You always wanted Rafe.

It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everything—toys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.

Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.

Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivals—when you knew Rafe would be watching the door—and marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wear—dresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a preview—and the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.

You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.

At least, in public.

You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.

And he did.

Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving early—as planned—Rafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nod—detached—as if it didn't matter.

It drove him insane.

Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.

Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?

It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe you—for once—are tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.

The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.

And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.

His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.

Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.

"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."

"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"

"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."

You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.

"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."

His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.

"You're not fucking me in a car."

"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.

"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."

He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.

"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."

"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can just—"

"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."

You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.

And what he can do with it.

Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.

That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.

When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you again—needing your lips, needing your taste—while his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.

But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."

So fucking pretentious.

It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wanted—no, needed—to be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.

And he was right.

You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so long—but he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loud—begging him to go faster.

"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."

"R—Rafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.

"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"

"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."

"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"

You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but there’s still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.

You win.

"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."

Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.

"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."

Everything’s so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.

"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.

Yet, Rafe merely grins.

"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."

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tagging @starkeysprincess bc she saw it first <3

[harzilla]

Okay. I was thinking the lost sibling AU.

Except one of the twst boys is in love with you or you're already dating.

Dating Leona only to find out you're Malleus' twin? Well shit, does he love you enough that he can tolerate you being the Lizard's sibling? Well actually it might not be to bad you're technically royalty so it would make integrating you into the royal family a lot easier so hey, congrats you're helping create a stronger alliance between the Sunset Savanna and Briar Valley. At least Malleus gets upgraded from Lizard to Lizard-in-law.

Dating Malleus and it turns out you're Azul's sibling? You know the gears are already turning in Azul's head. Isn't he such a caring brother? He might finally get the opportunity to make a deal with a ruler. Why of course he wouldn't try to scam his future brother-in-law. Please smack him with a tentacle or two if he tries anything funny.

Dating Sebek and you're actually Malleus' twin. Oh God Sebek is going to fluctuate between feeling like he's not worthy to be the s/o of his waka-sama's twin too, of course he has excellent tastes in a partner he just knew you were truly special before anybody else! Please shut your crocodile up he won't stop yapping about you and Malleus to EVERYBODY.

Dating Ruggie and finding out you're Leona's sibling? Congrats you're never getting rid of Ruggie now not only does he love you but you'll be his ticket to never being poor again. He's gonna be such a smug lil jerk when he goes back home. His granny is going to beat him with a sandal if he messes this up.

Dating Riddle, only to find out you're actually the sibling of Floyd and Jade? Poor Riddle, he's going to be weighing if it's worth being the future brother-in-law to Floyd. Lord help Mrs. Rosehearts if she ever meets her child's in-laws because oh, they've heard how she treated Riddle and they WILL be out for blood if she tries it with you.

Dating Jamil only to find out you're actually one of Kalim's sibling? Jamil's got a headache coming on until you point out if you get married he could technically take your name and oh look, he can finally get that vacation via a year long honeymoon.

[imagine-you]

closer to where I started [Logan/Reader]

Summary: Sequel to won't somebody come take me home? All you want to do is shake off the memories of the past and move forward with your Logan, but an old friend of Wade's threatens to disrupt everything. It turns out your universe isn't quite through with you and neither is the person who hurt you. You'll not only have to fight a new enemy, but you'll also have to rescue the Logan who broke your heart. Of course, your Logan would never let you go without him, and he's also hellbent on making sure the other Logan knows you've moved on. Word Count: 11.1k Author's Note: This fic may contain: protective Logan, protective Wade, Cable, crazy amounts of pop culture references courtesy of Wade, surprise cameos!, jealous Logan, rescue missions, possessive behavior, and some spice (in that case, minors DNI.)

When I'm With You I'm Home 'verse

won't somebody come take me home? // all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

Read On AO3

Life post-Void proved to be in turns exhilarating and challenging. Now, you were in an entirely different universe and with a completely different team. You had a family, dysfunctional and crazy, but still yours. And of course, most important of all, you had Logan.  

The two of you were still navigating the first few unsure steps of your relationship. You were falling more and more in love with him with every passing second, and you couldn't help but catalog all the little differences that set him apart from the first Logan in your life. The other Logan, as you had started to think of him. 

Before, you were used to an empty bed after sex and feeling like you were having to coerce the other Logan into anything approaching a meaningful conversation. Now, the new Logan in your life, the better Logan, pulled you close after you were both spent and held you all night long. He let you talk about whatever came to mind and offered his own feelings and views without ever once making you feel like he was merely tolerating having a conversation with you.  

The other Logan never wanted to go out or spend any quality time together. He never brought you gifts or remembered your favorite foods or any other little thing that might have shown you he cared about you. Your Logan cooked for you and bought your favorite dessert and showed how much he truly cared about you in every tiny little interaction.  

You navigated past awkward first dates into other stages of your relationship. You got to know your Logan, really know him, and that was something you never felt with the other Logan. You were always left unsure, wanting, longing with the other Logan, but your Logan made sure you were completely confident and fulfilled with your relationship.  

Best of all, your Logan believed in you. In your universe, you had been relegated to the b-team of the X-Men, but now you felt like a valued member of whatever Wade called his team. Be it X-Force or X-Men adjacent, you knew that you could trust them, and they would have your back. You knew they didn't think your powers were useless and actually counted on you to help them. Logan had made sure of that.  

"So, this Negasonic Teenage Warhead, and that's actually her name, you're sure?" You checked with Wade, waiting for his nod of agreement, before continuing. "She wants our help because your large metal friend is in trouble." 

"Colossus, sure," Wade confirmed, checking over the guns he was bringing with him.  

"Who's he even fighting?" You thought a guy who was solid steel would have trouble finding an enemy he couldn't just knock out with a punch.  

"Some douchenozzle named Riptide, apparently," Wade informed you with a shrug of his shoulders. "He spins around and throws bones out of his body or something," he continued, sounding unbothered by the sheer absurdity of his words.  

"Great," Logan huffed, keeping his eyes on the road. "We've got a human tornado on the loose." 

When Logan pulled the car to a stop in the middle of a ruined street, you thought he wasn't too far off in his description. Cars were twisted on their sides and blood was splattered across various surfaces. Windows had shattered and stores were missing walls. You couldn't see anyone at first, but then you realized what you thought was another piece of a car was actually Wade's friend.  

"There," you told him, pointing towards Colossus. He was currently lying in a crater, but you could see that he was slowly beginning to move. 

"Fret not, my robust metal friend, I'm here to save your day," Wade called as he got out of the car. 

You heard Colossus groan, and you couldn't even tell if it was because he was in pain or because of Wade.  

"Think I can just drive away?" Logan asked, glancing over at you. "We can just leave him here, right? How long do you think it'll take before he shows up again?" 

"Knowing Wade? Not very long," you answered, leaning over to press a kiss to Logan's cheek. "Let's get out there and do some vigilante shit or whatever Wade calls it." 

"Trademark T-Swift!" Wade called, nodding approvingly at you.  

"For fuck's sake," Logan groaned, before he slipped his cowl over his head and got out of the car. You felt a smirk tug at your lips at the sight before you and opted to stay in the car for just a moment as you watched Logan approach Wade and Colossus. He was starting to unsheathe his claws, and you couldn't help but take him in in all his glory.  

That was another thing that your Logan was better at than the other Logan. You mentioned once that you found him sexy in the cowl and now he wore it every time you had to fight a bad guy.  

You tried to tamp down on your grin as you got out of the car. When you approached the group, it sounded a lot like Wade was trying to get information out of Colossus.  

“What the hell happened here? Did you eat Taco Bell again?” Wade asked, reaching out to pat Colossus’ stomach.  

Colossus reached out to halt Wade’s touch. “The Riptide is a formidable opponent,” he answered.  

You noticed a man dressed in a suit beginning to approach you and the others.  

"Is that our guy?" You asked, pointing towards the man.  

"Yes," Colossus confirmed with a solemn nod of his head. "And who are you?" He wondered, frowning at you.  

"Y/N," you introduced yourself, holding out your hand for him to shake. You were intimidated by how huge and heavy his hand felt, but the gentle way he shook your hand put you at ease.  

"Piotr Rasputin," he offered in return.  

"Rasputin? I used to know a girl with that last name," you mused as you watched Riptide approach. You could see him begin to spin, gaining momentum and speed as he got closer. 

"Stay back," Piotr warned, shaking his head. "Riptide is very deadly. He's already killed several today." 

Piotr tensed his shoulders before running towards Riptide, only to be knocked back again.  

"Oh, get up, you're embarrassing me," Wade hissed, reaching out to help Piotr up. "You took on the Juggernaut!" Wade reminded Piotr, grabbing him by the shoulders and attempting to shake some sense into him. "And you're telling me you can't take this walking Beyblade? Get back in there!" Wade commanded before giving Piotr a slap on the ass.  

Piotr grumbled something under his breath before starting to approach Riptide again. As Riptide got closer, Piotr planted his feet and attempted to stay in place. You could see flakes of metal begin to chip off as he was pushed backwards and you realized that Riptide would rip Piotr apart if something wasn't done.  

"Okay, new plan," Wade decided, pulling free one of his guns. He shot at Riptide, but every bullet was deflected, since he was spinning too fast for them to hit. "Fuck!" He barked before dropping the guns and grabbing his katana that had been strapped to his back. "Maximum effort," he grunted before running into battle. 

Logan lowered himself to the ground before charging at Riptide. You saw him try to leap at Riptide, but he was thrown back, taking out a partially crumbled wall with him. Deadpool had managed to get a little closer, but it was only because you realized he was getting pulled in by the vacuum Riptide was creating. Wade was doing his best to slash and stab, but it might have been a little harder for him when his limbs were on the verge of being ripped away.  

"Shit, shit, shit," you chanted as you moved forward. You held your hands out, concentrating on Riptide. You had only gotten better with your powers in the time that you had escaped from the Void. You had felt lighter, less burdened, and much more in touch with the push and pull of your forcefields and erasing yourself out of visible existence. Now, you could even make your forcefields invisible, where before they shown a faint blue, shimmering in the air.  

Still, you didn't know if you could contain Riptide, but if you didn't do something soon, he would dismember Wade, flay Piotr, and you didn't even want to know what damage he could do to Logan.  

You weren't going to let it get that far.  

You watched Riptide's movements and began to form a forcefield around him, careful to make sure Wade wasn't ensnared as well. Riptide didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong until Wade dropped to the ground. You could see him begin to heal as he clutched at his arm where it was dangling from his shoulder, barely hanging on.  

You were struggling to contain Riptide, but you were determined to keep him in the little bubble you had created for him. He hurled something at the forcefield and you could feel it like a hit to the chest, but you didn't let up. He began to spin faster, taking shots at his new prison, but not able to break it.  

"Holy shit, girl," you heard Wade exclaim as he rushed to join you. "I've got to get you to hunt Pokémon with me sometime. I'm gonna get you to nab me a Tornadus." 

"Shut up," Logan huffed as he walked over towards Piotr and helped him up.  

"Not that I don't appreciate the support, but what the hell are we going to do with him? I can't do this forever." 

Riptide was finally slowing down and you realized that he had a hand to his chest. He was panting and fell to his knees.  

"He's running out of air," Logan pointed out, carefully approaching Riptide. "He sucked it all up in that vacuum he created." 

"Okay, so let the little sucker suffocate," Wade bargained, rotating his newly healed arm.  

There was a ripple in the air beside you and you turned to see someone stepping out of a portal.  

You weren't really sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a man who looked like he was dressed for war. He was wearing combat boots and had various weapons holstered to his thighs, waist, and chest. He had scars on his face and arms as well as a stony expression that would have deterred anyone from fucking with him. You weren't phased by that, but the metal arm and glowing left eye did give you a bit of pause.  

The man reached into your forcefield with his metal arm and placed a collar around Riptide's neck. As Riptide slumped to the ground, drained, you brought a hand up to your chest. There was a dull ache that had taken up residence there that didn't go away until the man pulled his arm out of your forcefield. You had never seen anyone get through one of your forcefields before and you didn't like it.  

You saw Piotr frown at your forcefield before curiously poking it with a finger. When he couldn't breach it, his brow furrowed in confusion.  

The man turned to look at Piotr and gestured towards Riptide. "Do what you will with him. That collar should keep him from being a danger to anyone else." 

"Who the hell is this guy?" You asked, defensive and still a little sore from the intrusion of your forcefield.  

"An old buddy," Wade informed you, sounding oddly excited.  

The guy turned towards you and approached you. "Y/N, you're coming with me," he continued, reaching out to grab your arm.  

Logan lunged at him, stopping the stranger from making contact. "Like hell she is, bub. Who the fuck even are you?" Logan put himself between you and the guy, staring him down.  

"Alright, alright, since both the big guys are bad at words, I'll speak here. Let's all just be friendly here," Wade instructed, stepping forward to put a hand on Logan's chest and the stranger's and push them just the tiniest bit away from each other. "This is Cable. He's the son of Cyclops and Madelyne Pryor, blah blah, genetic template for Stryfe, blah blah, something about Mr. Sinister and foreshadowing, infected with a techno-organic virus and a whole bunch of other mumbo jumbo Fred Savage told me." Wade took a step back until he was standing next to you and leaned in, lowering his voice. "Yes, that Fred Savage."  

You stared at Wade in silence for a moment, trying to process all the information he had just dumped on you. You didn't know Scott had a kid and who the hell was Madelyne Pryor? And you had most definitely never heard of anyone who went by Mr. Sinister. But what you felt most important to ask was: "Who the fuck is Fred Savage?" 

Wade gasped and turned to fully face you, ignoring the fact that Cable and Logan were still having a staring contest that would likely end in bloodshed. "You take that back right now or I'm getting that guy," he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to point towards Logan, "to spank you." 

You felt a sly grin pull at your lips. You had felt off-kilter since Cable showed up and fucked with your forcefield, but bantering with Wade had become normal for you. This, at least, was familiar ground. You leaned towards him until you were close enough to almost feel his breath through his mask.  

"Promise?" You whispered, winking at Wade when his eyes went wide.  

"Ooh ho ho, I always took Logan for the brat in the bedroom, but you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"  

You heard Logan let out an irritated growl, letting his claws show again, but he didn't take his eyes off Cable.  

"We're versatile," you offered with a shrug of your shoulders. 

"Oh, you're naughty, girl," Wade approved with a laugh. "I like you." 

"Ditto," you conceded, knowing that it would annoy Logan more. Sometimes, you liked getting him all riled up, because it meant that once it was just the two of you alone, he would take you apart in all the right ways.  

"Enough," Cable snapped, moving to sidestep Logan. He finally wrapped a hand around your arm, and you realized you couldn't even protect yourself with a forcefield, since he could just walk right through it. "Your universe isn't quite done with you yet, so you're coming with me." 

You felt a spike of panic at the thought of going back to your universe. Your old life with your old team and old Logan and Jean and everyone who had left you devastated and broken. You could think of one or maybe two people you would want to see from your old universe, but not enough to actually go back there.  

"No," you blurted, instinctively pushing Cable away from you with a forcefield.  

He hadn't been expecting it, so he staggered back a couple steps, but it wasn't nearly as far away from you as you wanted him.  

Logan lunged at Cable, sinking his claws into his arm. Cable was quick to throw him off and you saw Logan start towards him again, when Piotr cut in.  

"Perhaps it's better if you take this somewhere else," he advised, bringing attention to the small crowd you had attracted.  

Cable scowled at Logan before considering his arm. For someone who had just been simultaneously stabbed three times and was now bleeding, he didn't seem all that concerned about the damage.  

"Fine," he allowed with a look at Wade. "Let's take this back to your place." 

Wade opened his mouth, but Logan shot him a look that dissuaded him from talking, and Wade let out a heavy sigh. "Ugh alright," he groaned, "but you owe me a double entendre. Also, you're driving," Wade told Logan before making his way back to the SUV.  

Logan kept an eye on Cable as he nodded towards the vehicle, silently prompting you to follow Wade. Wade tried to take the passenger seat, but you were quick to steal it from him. If Logan was going to be driving, then there was no way in hell you were sitting in the backseat with Cable. You were worried he would find a way to simply reach out and steal you away, stranding you in your worst nightmare.  

At least with Logan right by your side, you would feel safe. You always felt safe with him.  

The drive back to Wade's apartment was awkward with tension and unspoken concerns. Wade was bouncing nervously in his seat and he kept trying to get Cable to talk about where he had been the past few years. Logan was gripping the steering wheel so tight that you were surprised it hadn't broken off in his grasp. And you were just keeping your breathing steady and trying to quell your racing heart.  

You didn't know anything, you reminded yourself. Maybe you misunderstood. Maybe Cable misspoke. Either way, you knew that Logan wouldn't let you go back to your old universe. Not without a fight and certainly not alone.  

You reached over to grab one of Logan's hands, grateful when he unclenched it from the steering wheel. He let you hold onto him like a lifeline, keeping his eyes on the road even though you knew his thoughts were on you.  

You felt the weight of someone's stare and turned to see Cable watching you from the backseat.  

"What," you snapped. 

Cable didn't say anything, but you had a feeling he knew more about you than you wanted him to.  

By the time you were sitting at Wade's table, Logan to your right, Wade to your left, and Cable opposite you, you were starting to get the creeping sense that something had gone horribly wrong.  

"So, I think I can finally speak for all of us when I ask what the hell are you doing here? Not that I'm not thrilled to get a reunion, surprise cameos are my favorite, but I got the impression you weren't ever coming back," Wade pointed out, leaning in towards Cable.  

Cable quirked an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed, but he still deigned to answer Wade.  

"I've been tasked by the TVA to clean up a problem in Y/N's original universe. If she had stayed, it would have been taken care of, but now that universe's Wolverine has been captured by a man known as Omega Red." 

"Omega Red? That's this shitstick's name? Wow, he is such a pick-me girl, you know what I'm saying?" Wade asked Logan, shooting him a conspiratorial look.  

"I never know what the fuck you're talking about," Logan shot back, looking pissed off, but not necessarily with Wade. You realized Logan was worried for you and the prospect of you having to see the Logan who broke your heart and left you for Jean.   

"Didn't know I picked up an Old Man Logan, am I right?" Wade muttered to you, nudging you in the side with his elbow while he held his other hand up in the air, palm facing you in a silent request for a high five.  

You shook your head, aware that Logan was watching, but you discreetly held out your hand palm up behind your back, making him settle for a low five out of Logan's view. You were grateful for Wade's distraction, but you had already made up your mind.  

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest, and shook your head. "It's not my fucking problem." 

"We need your abilities," Cable argued, his gaze unerringly on you. "Omega Red releases death spores when injured. He heals himself by draining everyone around him. Someone who can sneak up on him and trap him with a forcefield could save a lot of people. We just need you to incapacitate him." 

"Then get Sue Storm," you told him, refusing to budge.  

"She's dead," Cable grunted, visibly getting more annoyed by the second.  

"You must not be hearing me," you admonished him, your voice edged with steel. "That's not my fucking problem. If they needed me there, then they should have fucking left me there. But they dropped me in the Void, so this is on them. I’m staying here." 

Cable let out a chuckle that wasn't anywhere near amused. "The TVA thought you might feel that way and they're prepared to make a deal." 

"What kind of deal?" Logan asked, shooting you a wary glance. 

"If Y/N does this, then they'll let her stay here permanently."  

You felt a little jolt of fear spike through you at the idea that what you had now was only temporary. The TVA held a terrifying amount of power, and they could rip the life you had built yourself right out of your hands.  

"And what if she doesn't?" Wade wondered, his tone finally drifting closer to something serious. It was the voice he used when he knew shit was about to hit the fan and he was wondering who he was going to have to kill first. You knew Logan was protective of you, but hearing it from Wade made the chill that had swept over you with Cable's warning start to abate. You were flanked by two people you could count on to have your back and you couldn’t have been more grateful for them.  

"If she doesn't, then the TVA will prune her again. Or they'll strand her in her last universe with no way home. Or they'll hand her over to Alioth. Who knows what they've got on their mind?" 

Cable sounded like he was done with the whole thing and you were beginning to wonder if the TVA had something on him to make him work with them.  

"All I know," he continued, meeting your eyes, "is that your forcefields are unique. They're not only psionic, but they're damn near invulnerable." 

"You could reach through it," you pointed out, absentmindedly bringing a hand up to your chest. It had felt like an invasion, something so inherently wrong that it had affected you physically.  

"Eventually, I won't be able to," Cable told you. "You're getting stronger all the time and there will come a day when you'll be able to use them to block out a telepath of even Charles Xavier's strength." 

"Damn," Wade muttered, shooting you an appraising look, as if he was seeing something new in you. 

"This Omega Red guy can't regenerate in one of your forcefields, so he won't be able to harm anyone trying to save his own skin. He's smart, though. He's a super soldier who's been highly trained in hand-to-hand combat and a skilled military tactician." 

"So, what's he want with big and angry over here?" Wade asked, pointing a finger at Wolverine. "What'd he do to piss the guy off?" 

"He believes that universe's Logan knows where to find a Carbonadium Synthesizer. He has Carbonadium tentacles--" 

"I'm sorry," Wade interrupted, holding up a hand. "This guy is living, breathing tentacle porn and you want us to kill him? Get him in a bare-chested wrestling match with Doc Ock and you'll make millions." 

"Wade," you groaned, barely resisting the urge to hit your head on the table. "So, he wants this synthesizer thing and he thinks that the other Logan has it? Is this just a rescue mission or are we doing something else here?" 

"I'll escort you to protect you and take him down, but he does know a way around my defenses," Cable admitted with a gruff, resigned voice. "If we can mortally wound him and you trap him in a forcefield before he can regenerate, then the problem is solved. Forever," Cable pointed out.  

"If I do this," you started, hating that there was a strong possibility there was no way around seeing the other Logan again. "Then that's it. No more threats or taking me back. Whatever debt they think I have is settled, alright? I get to stay here and be happy here and never see those people again," your voice shook on the last word and Logan reached out to put a hand on your thigh, silently attempting to comfort you. 

Cable nodded his head, reaching his hand across the table. "I believe we have a deal." 

You reluctantly grabbed his hand, letting him shake yours, before you let go. "Then I'll go with you." 

"Hold on," Logan cut in, finally speaking again. "This Omega Red knows how to take you out, so there's no guarantee that you can keep Y/N safe. If she's going back to that place, then I'm going with her." 

"But Omega Red knows how to take you down too," Wade reminded Logan. "So, obviously, you're gonna need the merc with a mouth and I know just where to find him." 

"No," Cable tried to deny, but Wade was quick to talk over him. 

"Road trip!" He exclaimed, jumping up from his seat. "I've got to pack," he said, clapping his hands together in excitement, before skipping over towards his room.  

"We need a moment," Logan told Cable before he grabbed your hand and pulled you up out of your chair. You followed Logan, in a bit of a daze, until he got to the door of Wade's apartment. He pulled it open, tugging you out into the hallway, before firmly closing the door behind him. "Are you okay?" 

You shrugged your shoulders, twisting your mouth to the side in an attempt to keep yourself from crying. You could still feel that weight in your throat, threatening to make whatever words you decided to speak choked and broken.  

Logan seemed to know, though, without you even having to speak a word. He wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to rest your head under his chin. You felt like he was trying to protect you from the world and you had no doubt that he would kill Cable and run off with you if that was what you wanted. But you didn't want the TVA to track you down and throw you back in the Void. Or worse, strand you in your original universe, where your heartache would surely destroy you.  

You knew what it was like to be loved now, and you couldn't go back to a place without it.  

"What're we going to tell Laura?" You couldn't help but ask, refusing to pick your head up to look at him.  

"Someone's got to keep an eye on the place," Logan mused, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. "She'll be fine." 

"Yeah," you sighed, reaching up to grab fistfuls of Logan's shirt, practically begging him to stay right there with you. "I don't want to see him again. Or her. I just, I think of how it ended and how practically no one cared that I was hurting. They were happy for the new couple and I was left in my room in the mansion, wondering how I had ended up completely alone." 

"You're not alone anymore," Logan promised, gathering you closer to him. "And I'm not going to let either one of them make you feel that way again." 

"Okay," you agreed, pulling away from Logan when you heard Wade's voice approaching the door. You hastily wiped away the tear that had managed to escape your control.  

"I've got everything ready and loaded," he was saying as he opened the door. "So, let's get this universe hop on the road and spear us a kraken." 

Cable looked resigned as he joined Wade and you couldn't help the briefest smile at his long-suffering sigh.  

"I was only cleared for two," he pointed out, but he still reached out to put a hand on Wade's shoulder. 

"Wait," you said, brushing past Cable to get back into Wade's apartment. You scribbled out a note, hoping that if Laura went looking for you or Logan, then she would find it. You stared down at the words, trying to make yourself believe them, and then rejoined the others.  

Gone out to save some asshole. Be home soon. 

"Let's get this shit over with," you told Cable, reaching out to grab Logan's hand just as the hallway outside Wade's apartment shimmered and disappeared.  

There was a brief moment where it felt like everything got flipped upside down and your vision blurred before the picture in front of you finally smoothed out into something recognizable.  

You were met with the sight of the X-Mansion and you felt sick to your stomach. The place that used to be your favorite place in all the world, where you felt saved, had turned into the setting for your nightmares.  

You felt Logan go stiff at your side and you glanced up to see what had caught his attention. Logan growled and moved to place himself in front of you, shielding you from the man on the path leading up to the front doors.  

You saw the satisfied smile on the man's face and pushed past Logan, rushing towards him. Logan tried to reach out for you, but you evaded his grasp, knowing you weren't in any danger.  

"Erik," you greeted, practically running into his arms when he held them out to embrace you.  

"Where have you been all this time? I've missed you," he murmured, pulling you close for a moment before letting you go. "It hasn't been the same without you here." His gaze flickered to over your shoulder, and he quirked an eyebrow at what he saw there. "I see you've brought another brute with you. You know you can do much better," he pointed out.  

"No, I can't," you denied, looking over your shoulder to see Logan and Wade looking completely gobsmacked to see you so friendly with Erik. “And it’s a really long story, but I promise I'm in a much better place now,” you assured him.  

Erik narrowed his eyes at you, as if he was trying to figure out if you were telling the truth or not.  

"You're friends with Magneto?" Wade wondered, sounding like he was still trying to put the pieces together in his head. “Magneto?!” 

"Does Charles know you're here?" Logan snarled at Erik, finally advancing on the pair of you.  

You couldn't help but laugh, sharing an amused grin with Erik. "I should hope so," you told Logan. "Since they're married," you finished, watching as Logan's eyes went wide with surprise again.  

Wade groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "There's a universe where I could've had a chance with daddy Fassbender here? What the fuck," he moaned before he reached out to smack Cable on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you take me here sooner?” 

Cable rolled his eyes, pushing Wade away from him, before he addressed Erik. "We need the X-Jet." 

Erik ignored Cable and looked at you. "You're working with them?" From the disdain in his voice, you knew Erik was moments away from insulting the others, so you quickly nodded your head.  

"They're my friends. More," you amended with a look at Logan. "And we have to go rescue your Wolverine because apparently I'm the only one who can do it without casualties. And if I do this, then I never have to come back here." You shared a look with Erik, knowing that he would be able to tell that was what you wanted more than anything. You no longer considered this place your home and you desperately wanted to go back to where you knew you really belonged.  

Erik watched you in silence for a moment before he finally dipped his head in a nod. He reached out to put a hand on your shoulder, ignoring Logan's snarl, and gifted you with a smile. "If you're truly happier with them, then I'll do what I can to help you." 

You leaned forward and pulled Erik into another hug. He had been one of the only people you felt like you could count on and while Charles had always seemed to have a soft spot for Logan, Erik had one for you. When you were heartbroken, refusing to leave your room, he had been the one to offer to strip all the metal from Logan's body and encage him in an adamantium prison he would never escape. You had declined the offer, even if you had certainly appreciated it at the time.  

"How did you get to be so chummy with Magneto?" Wade questioned you when you were on the X-Jet and on the way to Berlin to rescue the other Logan and take down Omega Red. "He's only one of the most well-known villains in the Marvel universe and there you were hugging him like you were old pals." 

You shrugged your shoulders, not entirely understanding what Wade was talking about, but then that wasn't exactly a novel experience for you where he was concerned. "He's fought Charles and the X-Men on occasion, sure, but I don't know. I guess after years of going back and forth, they realized they were in love and didn't want to keep fighting it anymore. They figured they had both suffered enough at the hands of the other and gave in to what was inevitable." You remembered Erik telling you about chess dates in Paris and heated arguments that turned into something more. "And Erik always understood me. He was really the only one in the mansion I could count on when everyone else saw me as expendable." 

"Huh," Wade mused, leaning back in his seat. "So, is it an open marriage or--?" 

"We're almost there," Cable called, cutting Wade off. "Five minutes." 

Logan cleared his throat, glaring at Wade until he finally got the hint and joined Cable in the cockpit.  

"This Omega Red guy," Logan started, squinting his eyes like he thought the name was stupid, but continued, "he sounds like a big deal. If it starts going south, I want you to get the hell out of there." 

"If anyone's in danger here, it's you," you pointed out. "He's already taken out one Wolverine and I don't want him thinking he can take you too. If he also manages to fuck with Cable again, then the only thing that's going to keep this plan on track is Wade and me. So, if it looks like he's going after you, then I don't want to risk you. I’d rather you be the one to get the hell out of there." 

Logan's brow furrowed in frustration. "I'll regenerate," he reminded you. "This guy's got death spores, whatever the hell those are, and a track record of killing everyone around him to save himself. I feel like I'm finally in a place where I can breathe again and if he takes you away," he abruptly stopped talking, clenching his jaw to quell the despair that had leaked into his tone. "If he takes you away, then I go back to being that guy Wade found passed out in a bar and ready to take a bullet to the skull just to make it all end for a while. Don't make me be that guy again," he begged, reaching out to grab your hand and keeping it tight in his hold.  

"So, then we both promise not to die," you tried, not knowing how to navigate forward. Logan had been vulnerable with you before. He wasn't scared to let you know what was on his mind and you knew he trusted you more than anyone, but hearing about how broken he had been before Wade whisked him off to his universe had despair clawing at your heart. You knew you would be a mess without Logan, but you never seemed to realize just how much he needed you. "And then we can go back home and we can forget all about this place." 

Logan squeezed your hand before he nodded his head. "Alright," he sighed before moving to stand up, pulling you with him. "Let's fucking get this over with, then." 

It only took ten minutes for you to realize that Cable might have been holding back when he was talking about the danger Omega Red posed. Cable warned that Omega Red was smart, but he was such a skilled fighter that he was able to fight Logan, Wade, and Cable without sustaining any significant damage.  

You were keeping an eye on the fight, because you had been warned not to get too close until you were needed. You were waiting for any sign that Omega Red might be on the brink of death, but you got distracted when you noticed that the lab where you found Omega Red also had another room hidden at the back. You made your way towards the door, climbing over a desk and evading Cable when he got thrown across the room, landing in front of you.  

Cable barely spared you a glance, taking a moment to check his weapon before joining the fight again. You could hear Wade taunting Omega Red and Logan yelling at him to get out of the way and Cable taking shot after shot. Pandemonium had fully engulfed the room, but you tuned it all out, drawn in by the mystery of the room.  

You found yourself at the door and there was a feeling in your gut that told you exactly what you were about to find, but you needed to see for yourself.  

You took a deep breath, wincing at the sound of someone's bone breaking and a frustrated scream echoing through the lab, and opened the door.  

He was lying on a bed, passed out and blissfully unaware of the war waging in the next room and inside your head. You had hoped that you would never have to see him again, but now he looked so harmless when his eyes were closed and he wasn't leaving you for someone else.  

"Y/N!" You heard Wade shout in warning, and you turned in time to see one of the tentacles from Omega Red heading right towards you. You were quick to let yourself become invisible before rushing into the room, narrowly avoiding getting pierced through the chest.  

The tentacle retreated and you dared a look out of the room, catching sight of Cable on the floor, unmoving. Wade was doing what he did best, never staying still and taking any shot he could, but Omega Red now had his full attention on your Logan.  

He was ruthless, going after him again and again, and you could see blood staining Logan's suit. You stepped into the room, circling the fight and waiting for your chance. You knew if it came down to it, then you would throw the whole plan out just to save Logan. But you believed in him, and sure enough, when Wade slashed at Omega Red's ankles, bringing him down to the floor, Logan stuck his claws in his throat. He shot his arm up, slicing Omega Red's lower jaw to ribbons, and quickly stepped back.  

You formed the forcefield around Omega Red, pouring all of your concentration into the task. Omega Red let out a laugh, blood spilling from his throat freely. He didn't move, but you could feel something pulling at your forcefield. You remembered what Cable told you about Omega Red draining people to heal himself and you knew he was trying to do that to you.  

All you had to do was outlast him.  

Omega Red turned his gaze on you, still smiling as if he thought the whole situation was hilarious. You were steadily building up your forcefield, terrified that he would manage to pull it down. Omega Red finally stopped smiling and his hand went up to his neck, studying the blood that coated his fingers. You saw him sway, but that seemed to only steel his resolve, and he pulled on your forcefield again.  

Wade was trying to rouse Cable, but Logan was steadily watching you. You thought about him and what was in store for you once you succeeded. Logan and a home and a family and no fear. No longing and pain and insecurity. No more wondering if you would wake up one day, stuck in an empty room, with a team that had betrayed you.  

You had everything you wanted with Logan and you would be damned if you lost it all now.  

Your forcefield held steady, and even though you could see Omega Red waver, it seemed he still had one last trick up his sleeve. A cloud formed around him and became so thick that you could no longer see him. You had a moment to wonder if those were the death spores Cable had mentioned before you felt like someone had poured fire right down your throat and into your chest.  

You gasped, barely catching yourself from stumbling. Logan took a hesitant step towards you but you shook your head. You couldn't afford the distraction and there was no way in hell you were letting your forcefield down now. Omega Red seemed hellbent on mutually assured destruction and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction.  

So, you held on with just the thought of Logan in your mind. You pushed past the pain and the black spots in your vision and concentrated on keeping your end of the bargain that would see you finally getting the happy ending you deserved.  

After what felt like hours of Omega Red pumping out poison in an effort to escape, you noticed that the spores began to lighten and disperse. Omega Red was slumped on the floor, his gaze fixed on the ceiling of the lab. He wasn't moving and he wasn't breathing and he wasn't alive anymore.  

You held on for just a moment longer, sure it was some kind of trick, before you finally let your forcefield drop. You didn't realize you were on the floor, staring up at the ceiling in a daze, until someone was standing over you.  

"Y/N," Logan called before he crouched down, cupping your cheek in his hand. "Are you okay?" 

You offered him a smile, shaky and uncertain, before you managed to nod your head. "I'm alive," you croaked, feeling your chest tighten for a moment, before the pressure relented. It was then you got a better look at the Logan staring down at you and you realized he was entirely wrong. "Ugh," you groaned before you weakly pushed his hand away. "Get the fuck away from me," you ordered, searching for your Logan.  

It turned out he wasn't far, because one moment the wrong Logan was there hovering over you and the next he was on the floor. Logan pulled his claws from the other Logan's sides with a snarl before turning towards you. His expression quickly morphed from rage to concern. He dropped to his knees, his hand trembling as he pulled you up, letting you lean on him.  

"That was too close," he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Can you stand?" 

You shook your head, looking up at your Logan.  

"C'mon," he coaxed, slowly but surely standing with you in his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder, your eyes slipping closed, finally feeling safe again.  

“Way to go,” you heard Wade crow as he approached.  

You squinted at him, seeing he had Cable’s arm around his shoulders and was doing his best to support him.  

“Like, seriously, I thought we were all moments away from becoming extras in The Last Of Us. I was entirely ready for Pedro Pascal to bust in and shoot me in the head for inhaling the spores, but you did it. Hey, you don’t look so good,” Wade observed, tilting his head to the side. “You doing alright?” 

“Fine,” you rasped, glancing up at Logan. “I wanna go home.” 

Logan nodded his head, turning his attention towards Cable. “Think you can still pilot like that?” 

Cable grunted in discomfort as he stood, shaking off Wade’s help. “I’ve had worse. Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” he said before making his way towards the exit.  

Logan started walking, doing his best not to jostle you too much in his arms. You could hear the slow shuffle of footsteps trailing after the group and you knew the other Logan was reluctantly following.  

Your Logan glanced down at you, frowning at you in concern. “Stay with me, alright?”  

You blearily nodded your head, feeling exhaustion creep up on you. You had never fought so hard to keep one of your forcefields up and you knew the only reason you had managed it was because of Logan. He believed in you. He loved you. He cared about you. All of that and more had given you the fire you needed to keep Omega Red contained.  

"I can't believe you were ever considered the worst one," you whispered, knowing Logan would still hear you. "Not when he exists," you continued, reaching up to trace your fingers over his lips. You gently tapped your fingers against them, smiling when that only served to get a huff of laughter from him. "You're the best Logan," you assured him before you finally allowed yourself to pass out.  

Consciousness returned and fled from you, bringing you little bits of awareness. Logan carrying you back to the X-Jet and the other Logan trailing behind, a scowl on his face. Wade splayed out across multiple seats and singing showtunes to the other Logan. Logan's arm around you and Cable calling out that you had arrived. The hallways of the X-Mansion and Erik's voice ahead of you. A bed and a warm weight around your waist and a kiss to your forehead.  

The next time you woke, it was to a sight you had hoped to never see again.  

"Is this my room?" You grumbled, turning an accusing look up at Logan.  

He was sitting beside you on the bed and you knew without a doubt that he had never left your side. He held a book in one hand and the other had been resting on your back, keeping you held close with your head pillowed on his thigh. He set the book down on the nightstand, being careful not to move you. 

"It is," Logan confirmed before reaching for you. You let him pull you further into his side and tucked your head up under his chin.  

"What time is it?" You wondered, glancing at the curtains and the glimpse of darkness outside. 

"A little after ten," Logan answered, lightly running his fingers up and down your back.  

"I don't want to be here," you told him, pushing away from him to sit up. "I hate being in this room and all of the memories and--" You abruptly stopped talking, dropping your head in your hands. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out unwanted memories that threatened to overwhelm you. Curling up on the bed, clutching a pillow to your chest, tears running down your cheeks. Sobs choking you, hearing everyone's whispers, dodging their stares. You had felt so alone despite Erik’s sympathy and now your chest felt heavy with the memory.  

"Hey," Logan murmured, reaching out to pull you back towards him. "We can leave as soon as Cable gets back. He dropped us here so he could go talk to the TVA and then he's taking us back. We're not staying," he assured you, his hands going to your shoulders and turning you until you could meet his eyes. "We're going home," he promised once he knew he had your full attention.  

You nodded your head, but you could feel that creeping sense of doubt begin to take hold. Somewhere in the mansion, Jean was fussing over Logan and they were in love and didn't give a fuck about what they put you through. It killed you, just the tiniest bit, that they were no doubt happy together.  

Suddenly, you were on your back, staring up at the ceiling. Logan caged you in with his arms, lowering his body on top of yours. "I think," he started, brushing his lips against yours. "It's time to make new memories here. Better memories," he amended with a smirk.  

You felt a smile tug at your lips as you raised your head enough to kiss him. It felt like coming home in the best way and you knew that you couldn't let the past overwrite the present.  

Logan pressed his lips to yours, his hands tightening in the bedsheets at your sides. The kiss grew hungry and consuming, Logan nipping at your lips and begging entrance with his tongue.  

You let him in and Logan set about claiming you, groaning into your mouth when you gave back everything he was giving you. You felt his hands settle on your hips before they swept up, beginning to inch your shirt higher.  

Logan broke away from the kiss to plant one on your bottom lip, chin, jaw. He bit kisses into the underside of you jaw and the sensitive spot behind your ear that he knew would make you crazy. You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled, silently begging for him to take it off. You wanted to feel all of him, everything, all that you could get.  

"I couldn't stand it," he growled, refusing to move as he continued to mark your skin. "Seeing his hands on you and the way you reached for him, thinking it was me. I wanted to rip him apart," he snarled before finally pulling back.  

He pulled his shirt over his head and helped you do the same. His fingers brushed against your stomach before trailing down to the button of your pants. You nodded your head, giving him permission, eager to feel all of him again. It didn't take long before you were both fully bared to each other, ready to lose yourselves together.  

"He's never going to touch you again," Logan promised, his hands drifting over your sides, hips, thighs. "No one but me," he continued before he pressed a kiss to your collarbone. He lightly scraped his teeth along the skin there before pulling it into his mouth, soothing the sting with his tongue.  

"Logan," you breathed, feeling like you were coming back to life. You couldn't believe you had just felt so unwanted and unloved when you had Logan ready to stake a claim on every inch of you. "No one but you," you agreed as he worked his way lower, slowly kissing a path down from your neck to your chest and then stomach. You could feel the low, pleased rumble in his chest, knowing that he was driving you absolutely crazy. You wanted to move closer to him to try to urge him along, but you couldn’t. He was gripping your hips, making sure you stayed exactly where he wanted you.  

He pressed a kiss to one of your hips and then the other. He looked at you, staring at you from between your thighs, before you saw his lips tick up with a devastating smirk. He reached up to grab one of your hands and placed it in his hair. "Hold on," he commanded, barely giving you time to grip the strands in your grasp before he lowered his head and began to take you apart.  

Hours later, you were on round four or five, you had honestly lost count, but you knew you were lost in a state of euphoria. Logan's hands were on your hips and he was buried in you, but he was staying still, simply taking in the sight of you beneath him. You knew you must have looked like a complete and total wreck. Your spine felt like it had melted right into the mattress and your mind was a mush of thoughts all focused on pleasure and Logan and love and want.  

There were marks littering your chest and stomach and thighs. You felt overly sensitive in all the right places and you knew that you were going to be incredibly sore later on, but you didn’t care. Right now, Logan looked just like you felt and you loved that you had been the one to have that effect on him. 

"C'mon," you urged, pulling at his shoulders and bucking your hips up into his in an effort to get him to move. “I’m so close.” 

He reached up a hand to cup the side of your face before he shook his head. "Say it," he demanded, a growl in his voice.  

"Say what?" You wondered, even though you knew exactly what he wanted. It wasn't the first time he had asked you for it that night and you couldn't help teasing him just the slightest.  

"You know," he admonished, pulling out enough so he was just barely inside you. You felt your thighs begin to tremble and you tried to tighten them around his waist, but he stayed firm. "Say it," he repeated, leaning forward to press a kiss to your neck. He pressed fully back inside you as his teeth scraped the mark he had left just behind your ear.  

"Logan," you whimpered, clutching at his back, your nails claiming temporary marks on his skin.  

"Louder," he ordered, pulling out before burying himself inside you again. 

A delicious heat was traveling down your spine and settling low, shooting off little zings of pleasure that had you half insane with the need to fall right back over that edge again. Logan had been incredibly attentive all night and now you were rounding the track again, the home stretch just barely within your reach. He began to bite kisses into your neck and down your chest, before he started up a maddening pace with his hips, and you could feel yourself begin to fall again.  

"Ah, fuck, Logan," you moaned, not even caring how loud you were being now. You clutched at him, lost and seeking a lifeline, trusting him to see you through to the end.  

He worked his kisses back up until he had his face in the crook of your neck. You could tell just from the feel of his lips that he was smirking, pleased with you.  

"Good," he murmured before he flipped you both over, letting you be on top. His hands trailed up your sides before settling back on your hips. "You're mine," he grunted, holding on to you as he pressed his hips up, seeking his own release. "You're mine, you're mine, you're mine," he chanted as he lost himself inside you again.  

After, when he had his arm wrapped around you and your head was resting on his chest, he trailed a hand lightly along your back. You shivered and pressed yourself closer to him, glad when he pulled the sheet tighter around the both of you. You felt sore and sated, the last few hours completely erasing and rewriting the history of the room. Now, you looked at the walls and didn't think of how they had witnessed your desolation, but now knew of the way you were loved. Gone were the memories of tears, replaced with the echoes of your pleasure.  

Logan had done exactly what he told you he would. He created new memories for you and you were so dizzyingly in love with him that you couldn't help but squeeze his hip, letting him know you were still there with him. 

"I meant what I said, you know," he told you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're mine now and I'd never let you come back here to him. To any of them. Because I'm yours too," he continued, finally letting his hand rest between your shoulder blades. "We belong to each other." 

You managed to look up at him despite the way sleep was trying to drag you down. "Promise?" You couldn't help but check, knowing that he had well and truly ruined you for anyone else.  

"With all my heart," he confirmed, his tone sincere.  

"Good," you murmured, already beginning to slip off to sleep. "Love you," you managed to get out before sleep rushed up to claim you.  

You never heard him say that he loved you back, but you felt it just the same.  

In the morning, you woke to an empty bed. Before, if it was you in this bed with the other Logan, you might have worried that he left you because he didn't care about you enough to stick around, but you didn't have to worry about that now. Your Logan was nothing like the one from your original universe and he would never do that to you.  

You got out of bed and pulled your clothes back on. There was a rip near the right hip of your pants where Logan had been a little too eager to rid you of them. You didn't care what you looked like as you shuffled out of your old room, rumpled and content. It wasn’t like you planned on sticking around for much longer and there was no way in hell you ever planned on coming back. 

You followed the sound of voices to the kitchen. You froze at the entryway when you noticed the other Logan leaning against the counter, glaring down at a cup of coffee. His arm was wrapped around Jean's waist, his hand splayed protectively over the bump under her shirt.  

It felt like a punch in the gut to see Jean pregnant. They didn't waste a second, you couldn't help but think, and when Jean turned to look at you, you realized she caught that. You thought about what Cable told you, that your forcefields would eventually shut out telepaths, and you imagined one of them closing around your mind. You didn’t want anything projecting out that she might be able to hear. When Jean flinched and hurriedly looked away, you knew that it had worked, if even for a moment.   

You sneered at her back, ready to get the hell out of the room and retreat, when you heard someone call your name. Wade was sitting at the kitchen table, a pile of pancakes in front of him, while your Logan watched you with a warm, inviting smile.  

Wade began to wave at you, as if he thought you wouldn't be able to see him.  

"Over here," he called, reaching out to pat the chair beside him. "Saved you a seat," he offered, turning his attention back to his food. He still had his mask on, but it was rolled up so his mouth was free, and he could shovel forkfuls of pancakes into his mouth at a speed that was starting to make you nauseous.  

"Here," Logan murmured, sliding over a cup of coffee once you sat down.  

You took a sip, savoring the taste, and offered him a smile. "Just how I like it," you told him, leaning over for a brief kiss.  

You heard someone clear their throat and you glanced over to see the other Logan staring at you. He looked as if he was waiting for something, but you had no idea what he might expect from you. If you had your way, you wouldn’t even be in the room, but the buffer of Wade’s rambling mouth and presence of your Logan were the only things keeping you rooted to your spot.  

"You look a little tired, there, Wolvie," Wade observed as he let his fork clatter down on the empty plate. He pulled his mask back down and rolled his shoulders, as if he was getting ready for a fight.  

"Don't call me that," the other Logan snapped, taking a step away from Jean.  

"Well, what else can I call you? Logan Two?" He tried, shaking his head. "No, that's not right. Maybe Loser? That seems to fit you better." 

"Shut the hell up," the other Logan spat and you saw Jean roll her eyes before leaving the room.  

You couldn't help but feel lighter without her there. You hated to admit it, even to yourself, but you felt insecure with her anywhere around your Logan. It only helped that your Logan had spent the last few minutes with his hand on your thigh and his attention focused on you. He reached out to gently press his thumb to the underside of your jaw, briefly caressing the mark he had left there the night before.  

“Can’t wait to get you home,” your Logan murmured, a wicked smirk on his face that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.  

You heard something shatter and glanced over to see the other Logan clutching a broken cup and coffee splattered on the floor beneath him.  

"What's wrong there, Wolvie? Didn't get enough sleep last night?" Wade asked, adopting a faux concerned tone.  

"No," the other Logan growled, shooting a scowl at your Logan. "I didn't." 

Your Logan gave the other Logan a pleased, smug grin before taking a sip of your coffee. "Funny," he started, before setting the cup down and staring him down across the kitchen. "Can't say I slept much last night, either," he claimed, bringing his arm up to rest along the back of your chair. 

Your only warning was a snarl of rage before you felt your chair tip back and you were on the floor. The other Logan had rushed at your Logan and threw him into the table. The table buckled and collapsed and you used a forcefield to push back the other Logan. He looked betrayed for a moment and you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of that before your Logan lunged at him.  

You lost track of the fight, both of them frenzied and enraged. There was blood sprayed across the tiles and a crack in the counter where the other Logan had been thrown. The fight ended with your Logan's claws stuck in the other Logan's chest and Wade standing behind the other Logan, his katanas crossed over his throat, ready to decapitate him if needed.  

"I can't leave you anywhere, can I?" Cable interrupted, sounding resigned. You didn’t even notice him appear, you had been so invested in the fight and making sure your Logan or Wade didn’t get seriously hurt. "Come on," he continued, "it's time to get you three back home." 

Hearing Cable call Wade's universe your home gave you all the motivation you needed to walk forward and put your hand on your Logan's shoulder. "Hey," you whispered, knowing he was listening to you even though he was still glaring at the other Logan. You also had the other Logan's attention, which made what you said next even sweeter. "I'm happier with you," you reminded your Logan. "And I don't want him anymore," you said, meeting the other Logan's eyes.  

You saw the shock in his expression fade into fury, but he knew he was trapped. Still, he snarled and jerked in your Logan's hold, blood beginning to drip from where Wade's blades had sliced into his skin.  

"Goodbye," you told him, even if you didn't think he deserved that much from you.  

The other Logan didn't respond, but from the look on his face, you knew he got the real message. You were completely done with him.   

You let your hand drift down from your Logan’s shoulder to his arm, prompting him to finally pull his claws out of the other Logan's chest. He took a step back, staring the other Logan down, before he turned to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.  

"Let's go home," he told you, beginning to usher you over towards Cable.  

You didn't spare a glance at the other Logan, not wanting to look back. You knew that it was much better to keep your focus on your future ahead with your Logan and not on what or who you were leaving behind.  

When you finally got back to Wade's universe, Cable turned to face you.  

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Here," he said, waiting for you take it from him. "There's no going back now," he warned you. "I made sure to get it in writing for you." 

You skimmed the piece of paper, feeling a smile tug at your lips.  

"What's it say?" Wade wondered, reaching out to pluck the paper out of your hands. After a moment, he chuckled before looking at Cable. "You big 'ol softie," he said before slapping the paper to Logan's chest, barely waiting for him to grab it before he threw his arms wide. "Group hug," he said before sweeping you into an embrace with Cable. "C'mon, Logan, get in on this." 

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of your throat. Wade was ridiculous, but you appreciated his sentiment. Cable released a heavy sigh before extracting himself from Wade's hold.  

"Good luck," he told you, before beginning to turn a dial on the device strapped to his forearm. "I think you're going to need it." 

And then he was gone, leaving you to pat Wade on the back and step into Logan's arms. You felt lighter, freer, after reading the paper that confirmed that the TVA wouldn't be sending you back to your old universe. You truly were free to forget all about your old life and focus on your new one.  

You pulled away just enough to frame Logan's face in your hands before you pulled him in for a kiss. It had taken you heartbreak and pain and a whole host of other terrible things to get you where you belonged with the right Logan, but you wouldn't have traded the experience for anything.  

Now, all you had to do was make sure you held on tight and refused to let go. From the way Logan kept you in his arms, a relieved smile on his face, you knew he felt the same.  

Neither one of you was willing to lose what you had gained without one hell of a fight. 

Later, you would remember that moment when you were in Logan’s arms while he tried and failed to keep Wade from joining the embrace. You would remember your helpless laughter at the sight of Logan’s perplexed scowl while Wade managed to hop on his back. It was that moment, when you felt unburdened and free and happy, that would get you through the tragic events ahead. 

Author's Note: I'm so fucking nervous about this one. I rarely write anything with spice, so I'm literally fucking terrified right now y'all will hate this. If you liked this, letting me know would make my day. And I have an idea/plot for a third chapter, so if y'all want to read that, please let me know. And if you want to be tagged in the next part, please let me know! I figure as long as y'all let me know you want to keep reading this fic, I'll keep on adding more to it. And if there are characters/scenarios/other Marvel stuff you might want to see, let me know! I might be able to work it into the fic. (also, we're just going to pretend reader never met negasonic teenage warhead or colossus yet for the purpose of this fic.)

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[shapelytimber]

Ok hear me out.......... wlw Wilhuff Tarkin and Orson Krennic-

the dynamic very much is unhinged creative vs rigid control freak in a context of evil bureaucracy- and personally the context is why I love to read stories with imperials jdjdkd nothing is more crack cocaine literature for me than to make drama in a space office filled with awful people

More flavor text and me trying to sell you on why this ship of two truly terrible people is great below vvv

For Krennic, lean more into the evil genius artist. She's been up for 46 hours straight drawing schematics, she's rambling about incomprehensible shit, her only meals have been cigarettes and energy drinks, she's so full of herself she might one day think she's god, she's gonna die by 60. She doesn't care much about the politics of the empire, but they don't bother her either. She works for the imperials because they have a lot funds to give to engineers willing to build them a battle station the size of a moon capable of blowing up planets. Before that she worked on a lot a architectures on imperial center/Coruscant.

The imperial uniforms are a bit boring- so I'm taking full advantage of the fact Krennic is more of an engineer/architect to tweak her uniform a bit (and the cape was already not respecting regulations sooooo) For Tarkin I'm keeping it tho, this woman won't be caught dead without it.

For Tarkin, lean less into the whole buff survivalist aspect- she very much was in her youth, but she *is* a 65 year old woman based on *Peter Cushing*, and has been in a very high and prestigious position within the empire for the past 20 years. She still as an extensive knowledge on how to survive in nature, and fight with her bare hands or a knife, but that doesn't come up very often in her line of work anymore. She still killed a space bear unharmed when she was like 17 tho. She hates chaos and developed the main philosophy that drove the empire to this day : to govern with fear and impose order. She is a bloodthirsty woman in her sixties, with a never ending hunger for power, currently cheating on her wife with a coworker she hates.

They both love the death star more than they tolerate each other, but they did end up bonding over plotting the demise of one coworker they couldn't stand and digging out rebel spies. Make no mistake tho, this is very much a love triangle/trouple between two women and a giant battle station.

In the end, Tarkin killed Krennic by shooting her from orbit with the death star, the project was finally finished, she didn't need her anymore and she might have gotten in the way of her control of the station.

Tarkin dies a few days later during the battle of Yavin, along the death star, not willing to back down in her moments of glory.

PS : a lot of this is inspired by the fic "Propagating structure" by oneinspats ! it's what made me like and understand this pairing, and is truly a great work of fiction. I really think this fic is a masterful work when it comes to expending the character of Krennic, and extrapolating on existing things. Exploring his more creative side, his passion for his work, his truly abysmal lifestyle, giving him a hatred of nature and a background as an architect on Coruscant. While also keeping his horrific aspects, like reading his internal (or external) monologues sometimes makes my skin crawl with how disgusting his ideas are and how deep they run, but making him an interesting and compelling protag for the story. While all of it is surrounded by this delicious dramatic irony, because we know that no matter how hard they try to scheme (or fuck), the death star will blow up and it's incredible.

[thecatsaesthetics]

So many people get Rhysand and Feyre’s dynamic wrong.

Rhys and Feyre are mirrors, they both would and have done the “wrong” thing in order to save the ones they love. They both would rather take on the struggle alone then share the burden. They both don’t view themselves as worthy of what they have, and can only truly love themselves when they love each other. It’s why they work so well, they both mirror the other.

When Feyre says “I see you” to Rhys it’s incredibly powerful because she’s not only seeing him but herself. Feyre only begins to forgive herself for what she did UTM by realizing that she could never condemn Rhys for his actions, because she would have done the same.

Rhys hatred of Nesta over Elain, is because Nesta does not appreciate (at least outwardly) everything Feyre did. It’s not just about Feyre providing for the family and them not, it’s about her treatment she got for sacrificing everything. Rhys knows what’s that like, Rhys has done that and knows what it’s like to be insulted for it. And while he doesn’t ever try to defend himself when insulted he can’t bear to see Feyre insulted over her sacrifices.

It’s the same way Feyre cannot comprehend how people can disregard and insult what Rhys did to save his people. Feyre goes ape shit over any insult towards Rhys, but more or less tolerates Nesta’s abusive comments towards her.

It’s because she’s his mirror, and he is hers.

And if we’re think of in canon, despite all the problems and plotholes with the pregnancy it makes sense that Feyre would be quick to forgive. Feyre would do the same, if she knew Rhys was going to die she would do everything to find a cure before he died. It’s not right, but Feyre takes on the burden of others the same way Rhys does. She understands him and his actions better then anyone else. And he understands her equally as well.

It’s why they work so well and what most people get wrong about them. Feyre does not have “rose colored” glass for Rhys, she understands him. She knows she would make similar choices and she has made similar choices.

[shaevilux]

People knock on Rhoam for being a bad dad cuz he's distant and stern to little Zelda and say how Rauru is the goat (heh) for taking her in like his own daughter. Like Zelda had her real parental connection with Sonia and Rauru. But frankly that's a little reductive.

Rauru literally descended from the heavens, married a priest, started a kingdom. Man didn't really know much strife yet. There's no looming threat of calamity or prophecy yet. Things are peaceful. Things are fine. Things are great. Zelda dropped in during this time, talking about a doom that's going to happen tens of thousands of years in the future.

This sad, lost princess.

Of course any reasonable person would take her in and calm her and tell her she is fine and listen and support her.

Rhoam not being able to be this kind of figure for Zelda is tragic. Just read this poor man's journal entries:

"It has been a year and three months since her mother passed. Perhaps she is held back by heartache too deep to heal. If the Ganon prophecy wasn't looming over our heads, I would tell her to take her time... To wait until she is ready. But our situation is dire and leaves no room for weakness—even on behalf of my beloved daughter. My heart breaks for Zelda, but I must act as a king, not a father. I must order her to train relentlessly at the fountain." Pg 4.

"In truth, I understand Zelda's feelings. Painfully so. She lost her mother, her teacher, before she could learn from her. Ten pointless years of self-training, without so much as a book or note to help her find her way... Those in the castle talk behind her back. And I, her only family, scold her for her shortcomings. No wonder she wishes to hide away in her beloved relic research. I'd love nothing more than to console her... But I must stay strong. She MUST fulfill her duty, just as we all must. Even if she comes to despise me." Pg 6.

"I have been told my Zelda went to the Spring of Wisdom... This will likely be her last chance. If she is unable to awaken her power at Lanayru, all hope is truly lost. If she comes back without success, then I shall speak kindly with her. Scolding is pointless now. I forced 10 years of training on her... and after all that, it seems her power will stubbornly awaken some other way. Perhaps I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics. They may just lead her to answers I can't provide. For now, I sit anxiously, more a father than a king in this moment. I sit and await my daughter's return." Pg 7. (He fucking dies and never gives Zelda this bit of closure uuuugggghhhhhhh Zelda I'm so sorry Rhoam I'm so sorry)

It sucks because most people remember the cutscenes (duh it's more immersive and important) and in the cutscenes of the first game Rhoam was mostly shown as being stern and mean to babygirl Zelda, who is closed fists explaining herself to him at the verge of tears. And in contrast everyone in the first royal family of hyrule in the second game treated her with such kindness and we can see how happy she was being there with them.

Rhoam was shackled by duty. By prophecy. By the looming calamity. And from the day he named his daughter 'Zelda' he shackled her as well.

And what does Zelda do with these shackles? She accepts them. She tolerates them. Because she loves her father and her kingdom and knows there's a power dormant in her that can stop the calamity that she must do her best to unlock. She does this dutifully. She does all the training, she does everything that is required.

But it still doesn't unlock. So she tries other ways. She isn't just going after the 'relics' because she's scholarly and nerdy and wants to learn about them. She does it because she's pragmatic. She knows her sacred sealing power isn't present in her. She knows she might not be able to control it or even unlock it in time.

So she tries this alternative approach. The Divine Beasts, the guardians. Ancient tech that was used to prevent the calamity of their time. And she awakened the tech. And her father chose the champions for each divine beast. And they were all prepared. And it's all thanks to Zelda.

And then... Fucking tragedy again. Ganon probably learned his lesson from the last time he was thwarted and immediately went for the tech, corrupting it and turning it against the new users. Against Zelda.

It's never really stated how fast it all turned to shit when the tech betrayed them (or maybe I don't remember) but every account points to it being almost overnight. The champions died. Rhoam died. And suddenly, suddenly Zelda unlocks her sealing magic.

I always always hate the literary trope of using tragedy to unlock a great power that could've actually stopped the tragedy from happening in the first place.

And it's no different in BOTW. I hate that Zelda had to go through all this to unlock her powers.

And then what happens next?

She's stuck in limbo (in an almost mocking parallel to Rauru in the next game with his imprisoning arm) holding Ganon back. For a hundred years.

This young woman had gone through so much only to be trapped with a calamity seeking to destroy Hyrule for a century.

Does she know her father died in the war? Does she know the champions died in battle? Would she know Link would survive in the Shrine of Resurrection? Would she know how long it would all take? The century she would have to wait?

I think she didn't. I think it all happened too fast. I think ultimately, she decided a stalemate with ganon was an agreeable outcome. I think in her mind she probably thought she failed Hyrule. When the divine beasts turned she must have been distraught. Distraught might not even cover it tbh. But at least... At least when the kingdom was brought to it's knees by the corrupted tech and was waiting for the final blow, she had the ability to ensure the final blow never came.

And oh boy I have a looot more to talk about regarding Tears of the Kingdom. But I do want to have a couple of more playthroughs of it to really formulate what I want to say.

[ryiju-muunie]

Could you do cult leader! geto I’m so feral for this like he doesn’t care about his followers but reader is just so pretty and he wants to make her his lover for the whole cult to see PLS IM FERAL N I LOVE YOUR WRITING <3

Red Ink

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/cult leader!Suguru Geto Warnings: angst, pining, slowish burn not really, selling and technically kidnapping, the reader has a sad backstory KAY [implied physical abuse], age gap [Geto is 37 and reader is 24], forbidden romance, im gonna make the reader sassy dx, alternate AU where Geto is a cult leader but it's set in more of an ancient time YOULL SEE [kind of like my happy marriage], bathtub masturbation, bathtub sex, sexual tension, cumshot [breasts], masochist!Suguru Geto, hair pulling, Word count: 7221 DESC: Suguru Geto never thought about giving a monkey who couldn't wield jujutsu a chance ... until he met you.

Hiii!!! I just got sick so please be patient my posts might get spaced out for a bit until I recover but I really like this! I took a few [A LOT] creative liberties when writing :3

If you want a guarantee I will write and post your request in a timely fashion head over to my Ko-Fi!

Every morning it was the same routine. Suguru would wake up at 7:45 AM every morning to an empty bed, with the lights a dull orange color. They hung from the room's corners and lit up just enough to let him peer around. He slowly forced himself off the squeaky mattress, becoming accustomed to the sensation of the cold wood against his bare feet. A breath of air flowed through his nose as his hand lazily trailed through his robes, hanging in his large closet. There were so many to choose from, all almost the same. Although, some details were different. Blue trim vs yellow, or a red pattern vs green. In all honesty, he never cared much about his appearance. As long as he wouldn’t have to leave, he didn’t mind his daughters or servants doing the shopping for him. Maybe that’s why the leader's hair was too long to manage, so he would lazily put half of it up in a semi-orderly bun. 

All of these people, and Suguru Geto was completely and utterly alone. He had no one who understood why he decided to become the leader of the Star Religious group so young, almost twenty years ago, at the ripe age of seventeen. All of his innocence was lost at such an age that he could feel a bitter taste rising on the back of his tongue. Bile. The taste of regret. Sometimes he looked out the window to some of the convent’s children playing in the courtyard, and he wished he had found a partner to aid him on his journey. No one ever caught his eye, no one ever piqued his interest. No one like … 

Suguru shook his head and blinked a few times, sending himself out of an impending spiral and instead leaving it for another day. He looked over to his robes, where his hand clung to his signature robe, yellow trim with a green pattern sewn to the front. There was something so comforting about this robe. Maybe because it was the first one ever made for him by his monkey servants, the only monkeys he’d ever let near his person without choosing to disinfect himself afterward. They knew their place in society and acted accordingly. The only monkeys he could tolerate. 

Another sound took him out of his thoughts, a knock on the door. He turned his head, “Come in,” was all he had to rasp. His voice was naturally soft, as he didn’t typically raise it past a whisper to most. Only when Suguru was truly enraged would he begin to scream and yell at those useless monkeys… but that was becoming rare now.

A tuft of pink hair appeared from the door as it opened, showing his secretary Manami. She strolled in as if she owned the room, opting to close the door with a push to her hip. The male watched her with an indifferent gaze as she tapped the rickety clipboard in her hand, “I found you a personal servant.”

“Personal servant? Why would I need that? I’m capable of dressing myself, you know,” as Suguru spoke he began to pull at his sheer robe, the one he slept in. His secretary looked up to the ceiling, avoiding any and all contact with his body as she possibly could. 

She tapped a pen along the rim of the clipboard as she continued, “Someone to make the bed and cut your hair. It’s getting too long, sir.” Manami swiftly raised her hand and pointed to him with the pen, still avoiding his body with her eyes up. He raised an eyebrow at her, shrugging off the robe and setting it neatly on his bed. His jaw flexed as he clenched it, in thought. Would the leader of the Star Religious group need a personal maid to do every little thing he needed? I mean, it sounded appealing to have a monkey fetch him any useless thing he requested. Watching them spread themselves thin trying to appease him. His lips pulled together in a silent smile at that thought.

“What’s this servant's credentials?” Suguru pulled his robe off the hanger and blew on it lightly, ridding it of the dust it had collected throughout the week it had been since he wore it. 

“Well she’s about 24, so past any good age to get married off,” she listed off, looking down at her clipboard as she spoke, “She’s worked in several different houses as a housekeeper and nanny, but she’s been let go for differing reasons.”

Geto slid on his robe and adjusted it until it fell across his muscular body, “Fired? Was she unruly or perhaps a pain in the ass?” A humorous tone took to his voice and Manami laughed in response, handing him the clipboard so he could see for himself. In a subtle sprawl, it wrote your name. It was interesting as he perused down the paper, stopping at the section where it detailed how you were let go: “Fired for talking back” and “Inappropriate conduct” happened to be recurring on the list, making the leader quirk an eyebrow. The last time he had anyone with some sense of personality was ages ago, as I previously stated my guy doesn’t raise his voice often. “What does she look like?” He asked, handing the clipboard back to the woman.

“I dunno. Why? Finally over your ex, Sugruuuuuuu?” Manami teased, a grin appearing on her face. However, it quickly disappeared as soon as he shot her a warning glare. Never bring up that name. Even edging around the subject, do not bring it up. Every servant and every secretary knew the leader’s past was a delicate subject. Never bring it up. 

She cleared her throat and continued, “Her parents are the ones using her for labor money. We can undercharge them for an old hag and get full labor! ‘Course, she’d have to live here… but I can situate that,” she waved a hand in the air to dismiss that train of thought, “I think it’ll be good for you, sir. Maybe you can get some release.”

She did it that time. Suguru’s eyes shot up to hers and gave her a look that would have sent anyone running. Manami apologized instantly, bowing her head. Everyone also knew of their Emperor’s lack of sexual lovers, and his constant sexual frustrations. He had never been able to fully relieve himself, for well over twelve years. There was a pent-up hunger burning inside him and no one could satiate it no matter how much he tried.

“Hire her. I wish to get acquainted with my new personal servant.”

Your personality had always bounced back even in the face of adversity, maybe that’s why every household you’ve ever worked for had fired you. Life wasn’t easy for someone like you, in a family who didn’t prioritize you. All they wanted were sons and they were blessed with a daughter who couldn’t even marry, you were a disgrace. So they decided they would use you for money if they could, milking you for every cent you were worth. However, you couldn’t keep a job. 

You started well-behaved and quiet, but soon the snippy comments would start. Then soon, you’d be making a scene, disrespectfully calling out your bosses for their treatment in a very public manner. Then they’d fire you instantly, making your family angry once more. It was a vicious cycle they couldn’t snap you from. You were never going to change until your father had announced you had been sold. 

The Star Religious group had agreed to your purchase, giving your family a sum of money they hadn’t seen in their entire lifetime. It was enough for them to skip town and leave you in your own abandoned house. Rough. Of course, that money wouldn’t hold them afloat forever, but they didn’t realize it at the time. All you could think about was the fact you had been abandoned by the people you had been blessed to, the people who said they loved you. 

You were never going to change until that day.

There was no use in fighting, because what happened after this? You’d have no one to back you up or a roof to sleep under. This time… you weren’t going to fuck it up. A carriage arrived at your vacant lot a day after your parents announced you were sold, leaving you alone with your thoughts. In a side bag were two kimonos, a compact, and a hair clip. You opened your rickety front door and peered over at the carriage with wide eyes. Normally a comment would fly out of your mouth, but you couldn’t even will yourself to speak. You didn’t have the will or energy to do anything more than sit and stare like a rock before a woman came out of it. 

She was beautiful, with short pink hair and a purple dress. She shouted your name and clasped her hands together in front of her stomach, “Oh he’s going to like you very well. Sir Geto has a thing for submissive women.” 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to laugh in her face and contradict her statement, nodding lifelessly, “I am grateful for this opportunity, Ms.” 

“Ms. Manami Suda to you!” She grinned, stepping aside to let you walk inside the carriage. It was a dull red on the outside and the same interior-wise, nothing special. You didn’t note the patterns on the inner walls or how the cushion felt. In all honesty, you didn’t care. Even though it was mid-day, you found yourself fantasizing about sleeping in a cot that wasn’t made of pure shit material, maybe even with a pillow. 

The carriage ride was quiet, aside from the occasional comment from Manami about how you didn’t have the monkey smell. Oh, that’s right… they were Jujutsu Sorcerers. You or anyone in your family for that matter were not blessed with the sorcerer gene, so you truly didn’t understand what it meant. Instead of speaking you nodded politely and let a fake small smile grace your lips, as if you were actually listening to her. The countryside was beautiful, the ride taking you deep into the middle of nowhere. Then you saw it, large buildings all coupled together to create a convent. They were tan with brown bamboo roofs, slanted to a point on the top. Incredibly gorgeous. You had always fantasized about building your own buildings one day, admiring from afar. But you weren’t built for that lifestyle. 

It was only ever going to be a fantasy for you it seemed.

The two of you entered the convent in silence, taking in the architecture. It was gorgeous, something you had seen from far away but never dared to venture to up close. You resisted so many urges to run your hand along the columns of the outdoor hallways that lined the outdoor courtyard in the center, where many of the children played. They all looked happy and free, something you found yourself envying.

“Lord Geto is right this way,” Manami spoke eagerly, walking ahead of you and motioning around, “Get used to it kid, you’ll be spending a lot of time here,” she then glanced back at you, a smile branding her lips, “Don’t get smart.” To her, she didn’t think that you were the same girl with the smart mouth that had been let go so many times. In some ways, you weren’t the same. You were so completely and utterly done with your life you couldn’t bring yourself to even have an ounce of personality you once did.

The rest of the walk was quiet before she turned on her heels to the right and motioned to a large door. It was red, with golden trim around the edges. You couldn’t see inside but you knew exactly what lay behind those doors. Manami took your bag from you politely and knocked a few times on the door, hearing some shuffling and seeing them open. Two guards opened the door, their faces stone-cold and stoic. They were almost scary looking, but nothing prepared you for the man who was behind them. He sat on a mound of pillows, head resting in his palm, and his eyes glued to you. In every sense of the word he was gorgeous, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. And he could say the same about you.

Suguru’s eyes widened just a tad as he took in your person. You were beautiful, looking hand-carved from a cloud by the finest god, wine drunk on nothing but your beauty alone. How could this be? No non-sorcerer should have ever made him stare for longer than a few seconds. Manami noticed, hell, everyone but you noticed. He blinked once, then twice, pulling him out of the trace you had put over him, a delicate smile gracing his lips. He spoke your name and used his free hand to beckon you over.

You did as you were told, walking into the room silently. But you hadn’t seen the rug placed before you or the corner of that small table. You found yourself hitting the side of the table with your right ankle, then tripping forward, completely slipping due to the rug. It was within seconds you were face down to the ground, letting out an astonished gasp. That was it. You had done it. You had tripped in front of the most notorious non-sorcerer-hating Sorcerer in the entire country. You had made a complete and utter fool of yourself and that was going to be the end of your life. A sad and embarrassed blush filled your cheeks and hollowed out your temples, waiting for your punishment. 

“I’m… so very sorry,” you managed to mumble, lifting your head from your crouched position. You didn’t hear Suguru lean forward, changing his position to kneel in front of you, and you didn’t expect him to be leaning over you so closely. His face looked down at you with a different kind of softness, raven strands of hair falling over his ears.

“Nonsense. It happens to the best of us… sit up,” he purred, whispering a magical tune in your ear. In any other person, this caring persona would have elicited a feeling of trust and safety. But you found this to be resulting in a different kind of reaction. Suguru’s brow furrowed ever so slightly when you sat up, moving to sit on your knees in front of him, and stared at him with … fuck me eyes?? No one had ever lusted after him so obviously and that quickly too! I mean he was Suguru fucking Geto, for crying out loud- he was supposed to be scary, not sexy! Well… maybe both. 

He blinked slowly to reset his thoughts, letting a gentle hand swipe past her cheek and softly hold her chin. Geto spoke your name lowly as he tilted your head to one side, taking in your features. It was nothing more than a pass over to see you fully, but you had completely soaked your underwear. Yeah, that’s right, you weren’t scared of him you were aroused. It felt even more embarrassing because it was incredibly obvious your fear-torn stare had turned into something more objectifiying. 

You were just picturing him leaning in and whispering sweet nothings as his voice broke your thoughts, “Your name is very pretty.” His voice brushed against your ears and once he retracted his hand back, a small frown parted your lips. His touch was warm and soft, contrasting the devilish stare Suguru typically wore. You wanted to relish in it for a few more moments, but you couldn’t live in a fantasy, now could you?

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, looking down to your lap. You just felt your wetness create an uncomfortable pool in your underwear, making it hard not to squirm. Especially with those naturally beautiful eyes staring at you with a hidden curiosity. 

Aside from the obvious lust radiating off of your person, you were a hard individual to read. Geto was getting mixed signal after mixed signal from your face he decided to sigh and ignore whatever he was feeling at that moment, opting to go over the business side of things. “You will become my personal servant, focussing on cooking, cleaning, and fulfilling my everyday needs. Understood?”

You nodded as he continued, “I would let Manami show you to your room… but it appears she’s wandered off,” he motioned to the slightly open door behind you, “I don’t mind showing you.” With that, the emperor stood up and cleared his throat, brushing his big hands against his robe. You watched with wide eyes as it flowed around him, making him appear more majestic than he actually was. You found yourself standing up and following your new boss, opting not to speak or do anything to draw more attention to yourself. 

As the two of you walked, the columns lining the walls took hold of your mind. The patterns in the wallpaper were one thing in itself, but the structure of the clearly customized columns made your heart flutter. It was gorgeous. Dragon scales dipped into the wall before coming out, in the middle of every door that lined the long indoor hallway. Your feet slowed to a stop, staring at the gold dragon trim. Your hand inched toward it slowly, just one touch to see the type of material. Suguru hadn’t noticed you wandered off until he turned and in the corner of his eye, he saw you stroke the wall. At first, he wanted to do the dick thing and clear his throat, embarrassing you. But something stopped him. You were as pretty as that dragon, the gold reflecting off your skin and making you practically glow in the dim light. You were gorgeous. Stunning even. It was strange, he had never felt himself this attracted to anyone in his life. Aside from- never mind. 

The leader slowly walked back, making his way behind you. You were tolerable to be around, tolerable for a monkey. That was something he had to remind himself about. You were still a non-sorcerer. You were still inferior to him in every sense of the word. Whatever feelings were creeping into his chest and making his heart sing had to get shut away in that instant, so he did the dick move and cleared his throat. 

Your hand was on one of the scales and you froze, turning your head with the speed of light to meet his gaze. “Lord… Please forgive me,” you blurted out, turning on your heel and pressing both hands to your chest, “I’m very sorry. I should never have gotten distracted. I’m sorry,” you squeaked, shutting your eyes tight. You knew what was bound to come… either a physical punishment or your letter of unemployment. Before Suguru could even respond, you lifted your head and tilted it to the side, motioning to your cheek. 

His eyebrow quirked up. He had never seen a servant ask for a punishment for their own wrongdoings, especially when it wasn’t that severe. A strange pang hit his chest, causing a weight to form across his own heart. What had happened in your sad life that made you so prone to letting people do things like that to you? This wasn’t the woman he was expecting. When you walked in, terrified and shy, then … horny, he thought he had gotten the wrong girl. Something must have happened for you to change like that. Maybe your obvious attraction was a hint of the personality you were hiding. Then Suguru had another question: why were you hiding your personality? The first duh answer was so you wouldn’t get fired right away, right? But he felt like there was something more. 

Something he shouldn’t have cared about. You were a non-sorcerer, a monkey! It was forbidden on all accords. 

Suguru blinked a few times, taking himself out of his weird spiral of thoughts to look at your face, contorted with worry, “It’s … alright. I wasn’t aware you liked architecture,” he motioned to the dragon’s golden bodice on the wall, “That was custom made from…” You let your boss explain how the dragon was made and imported, listening to every word. You didn’t want to speak and ruin your only chance at a new life. This was the one and only time you had ever held your breath, stopping any words from coming out. 

After a moment, the male paused and looked over you once more. Something was turning over inside his head and he so desperately wanted an answer. What was going on inside your head and what had deflated your personality so? What had made you turn yourself into a shell of the person he knew was still in there? …And why was he longing to see this? But he said nothing. The moment had passed and as quickly as you wandered off, you were shown to your room. If Geto had let himself unravel any further he would have requested her to accept a binding vow of pure honesty, with the promise of his protection. Why? Why was she pulling at his mind and making him lose it?

That night, he set himself a bath. The water splashed and made small waves as he dipped his feet into it, before submerging his large body. There was something so very calming about a bath to clear his mind… but he couldn’t rid it of you. Of your face, of your monkey smell, or your body. Even though the kimono you were wearing was a size too big, he still made sure to look you over subtly. He took in your large curves and bit his lip, thinking about them as he sat by himself. He was completely and utterly alone, in spirit and in a literal sense. Of course, he’d get a morning erection every now and then, but it had been a long time since something had turned him on just from the thought of it. 

One of Suguru’s hands dipped into the water and grabbed ahold of his meaty cock, dragging a hand up and down his length. It was foreign, but coming back to him like muscle memory. He didn’t want to savor this orgasm to the thought of a lowly monkey, he wanted to get it over with then pretend it never even happened. He wanted to pretend this was all some strange dream he was forced into… not at all something that was going to be plaguing him. He inhaled sharply and leaned his head back, resting his back against the edge of the bathtub. The water was coming up to his mid stomach, warming up his lower half. His pleasure was a gradual build, but he was trying his hardest to rush it. The leader wanted nothing more than to cum and then forget it. His hand tightened around his shaft, stroking upwards to find any sense of release. It was a few seconds before he came, rolling his hips a few times at the new sensation. It was a build of pure warmth before he felt his fluids ooze out of his tip with heavy force. It sprung into the water and contaminated it with his filthy seed. 

It was enough to make him grimace. A non-sorcerer made him so hot and bothered he was forced to spill all over himself, in the bath no less! First, he felt an odd sense of attraction to you… now he wanted nothing to do with it. If it was going to keep him feeling this way, Suguru wanted nothing to do with you. Even if you were beautiful, and you smelt good, and your skin was soft. He could feel it on his fingertips, a psychosomatic warmth radiating off of his hands. 

This was not going to be good for him. You were not going to be good for him.

You woke up at 9 AM sharp, not by choice. Manami shook you a few times, forced you out of your comforting dream, and made you sit up on the small cot you had gotten as your bed. It was more than you could have ever asked for, even if it was made for someone a bit smaller than you. So was your new kimono. They had a dress code for servants to differentiate them, and clearly whoever was the last servant didn’t have a very large … bust. You stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing your form ache to be freed from the tight clothing. The buttons didn’t go all the way down, exposing a bit of cleavage, and it tore a bit at the small of your back. Manami wasn’t much help either, opting to snicker at you and roll her eyes. You wanted to bite back and say something to get her riled up, but you never found your strength. Instead, you took it and nodded. 

“Okay so, Sir Geto’s room is the one to your left. Go ahead and start his bath. Don’t try to wake him up, though. He’ll be all grumpy if you do,” she explained, motioning wildly with her hands. She was a very extroverted person. Someone you would’ve gotten along with if you didn’t feel like absolute dog shit at that very moment. You nodded your head politely and exited the room, opening your bosses. 

It was neat, with barely any decor. Gas lanterns hung from the walls dimly, always keeping the room somewhat illuminated. You tried your hardest not to look at his sleeping form, but you caved. He was so gorgeous it made you pussy throb just from looking at him. His face was resting peacefully against his pillow, some black hairs sprawled against his forehead. His hair was long, longer than you expected, flowing behind him on his bed. And he was wearing what appeared to be a sheer robe. You swallowed and made your way into his bathroom, almost slipping on the excess water left behind from his previous night's bath. You were innocent enough not to question the pile of tissues on the counter, pushing them into the small garbage pail. Then it was a matter of setting up his bath.

In a cabinet hidden by a curve in the wall, you noticed some aromatic bath salts and other essential oils. One of the households you worked for was very into the essential thing, so you had an idea of what scents went together. You didn’t want Geto to smell like a whole mixture of things, but rather one family of scents. You chose a vial of rosemary, lavender, and peppermint oil, hoping it would go together. The bath turned on with a single turn of the knob. Your hands rested on the base of the tub, feeling the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. It got to the perfect temperature and you put the stopper on the drain, letting it fill up. In the meantime, you sat on the edge of the bathtub and peered around the bathroom. It was again, tidy and austere. He didn’t have an eye for decorating or he didn’t enjoy it. 

You heard a faint groan in the bedroom, signaling Suguru was waking. You inhaled the smell of rosemary and turned on your side to watch as it spilled one drop at a time from the vial. Then fell the peppermint, followed by the lavender. The scent filled the bathroom in an aromatic fashion, filling your senses with a sudden calm. Was it some kind of drug concoction? It was a smell that made you lean back and sigh, filling you with a sense of safety in your surroundings. 

“Good morning,” Suguru spoke, a raspy edge to his voice. Your eyes shot open from their closed state and you stood up, clasping your hands on your chest to hide your cleavage. But you hadn’t seen him staring at you from the bathroom door. He leaned against the doorframe, in only his thin nighttime robe, and stared at your thick breasts. The fabric was so tight, it pulled gaps between each button. He had to admit it, it was hot. Even if you were a filthy monkey, you were a hot filthy monkey. A hot filthy monkey with a banging body. 

“Lord Geto, I was preparing your bath,” you stepped to the side and motioned to the filling water. He caught a glimpse of your back as you turned to turn the knob to the water down to a stop. He saw the tear and the bit of your lacey underwear peeking out from underneath it. Was he that much of a monster that the first time a beautiful non-sorcerer appeared, he’d cave and melt? 

It was starting to feel that way as something came out of his mouth, “How do you feel about me? …Honestly.”

You opened your mouth to respond, on autopilot, before you closed it as quickly as you opened it. What could you say? You found him attractive and you wanted him to breed you? You couldn’t exactly say that, so instead you opted for something more generic, “I think you’re a very respectable leader and emperor to your coven.”

Bull. Shit. Suguru knew it was a lie and he knew you knew it as well. He didn’t have a reputation for being respectable in any sense of the word. He was a cold-blooded killer who’d murder anyone who wronged him in any way. A cold-blooded killer who was beginning to have a strange soft spot for you… 

“Tell me this,” he took a step forward, “if you vow to never lie to me again … I vow to protect you from getting fired, no matter what.” Was he seriously going to bindingly vow himself to some non-sorcerer? Was he seriously going to do this because he wanted to know how he was perceived? 

“...Really?” You asked, your mouth opening slightly. All he wanted was honesty?? You could do that! You could do that so well!! 

“Really,” Geto took another step forward and began to undo the tie holding together his robe. You had made it a point to stare at his face, but you were aching to quickly glance down below his belt. Just for a second.

“Okay. I swear…” You looked away and bit your bottom lip for a moment. You’d have to be honest now. You looked back at the man and let a smile appear on your face, “I think you’re more hot than you are scary.” 

Suguru’s eyes widened. That’s not at all the kind of tonal shift he had expected from you. He expected you to admit some kind of vague attraction and perhaps that he was a terrifyingly charismatic leader. But… he got a response which made an embarrassed blush fill his temples. 

“I’m .. hot?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling off the robe and letting it fall to the floor. Your eyes didn’t shy away now, making direct eye contact with his flaccid cock. It was beautiful even in that state, making your mouth hang open just a bit more. It was huge too. Thoughts of his girth stretching out your tiny pussy flooded into your thoughts. He could fuck you so good with that thing. And his voice… it was perfect.

“A lot of you is hot,” you looked back at his face, which was an excruciatingly bright shade of red. No one had ever felt this comfortable to objectify Suguru this way to his face. He couldn’t deny the fact he was growing to enjoy it. And grow in other ways. He took a few more steps forward, hands reaching out and pulling you closer to his front. 

“You’re being filthy, not honest,” a small smirk graced his lips as he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes, beaming with lust. 

“I can do both,” you returned a smile. A weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had complete and utter job security. That’s all you could have ever wanted in your entire life, just a place to stay. Even if it meant working with this hot guy for the rest of your life, you didn’t mind. Although, he thought of you as inferior, you didn’t care. That’s what did it. Your personality had been led out of its cage and shown to Suguru’s perverted gaze. He realized what kind of person you were from your few sentences. You were just as much of a pervert as he was. The tonal shift was enough to make you realize what his next plans were, especially when he let his big hands snake around your waist. 

“This is,” Suguru let out a breath and craned his head down, brushing his lips past your ear, “Very wrong… But I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss you, pretty girl,” he cooed, using his free hand to tilt your chin up to face him as he pulled his face back. You both looked at each other’s features for a moment without anything. What was there to say? You could feel him throbbing between your legs with that massive log he had attached to his front. It was hot. You just wanted to trail your hand down his chest and watch him shiver when you got to his v-line.

“You can’t fire me… so I don’t care,” two hands found themselves placed on his bare chest, running up and down his pectorals, “Am I too lowly for you, sir?” You purred, looking back up at him with a lustful expression. It was all you had to say before he proved you wrong. Devastatingly slow, he brought your lips together. The hand on your chin disappeared, moving to rest upon your ass. You sighed into the kiss, molding your lips together in perfect synchronization. It was as if his mouth was made for you, pulling you into sensations you had never felt before. The kiss didn’t last long before he pulled back and looked down at you with an unmistakable expression. He was going to fuck the living shit out of you. It was written on his face from the way he was clearly thinking about how to go about it. There was a bathtub full of aromatic water, waiting to be used… You looked down at the tub and looked back at him. You two didn’t have to say anything as his hands grabbed at the hole from the back of your kimono and ripped it. It made a loud tearing sound and he continued to pull, until little to no fabric hung from your breasts. 

You gasped and looked down at the mess he had made, moving to undo your underwear, then you looked at his cock. It was just aching to be touched in some way. Your hand found his tip and started to stroke down his shaft, then up. Who knew a non-sorcerer's hands would feel phenomenal compared to his own? Suguru let out a faint groan, leaning into your touch. He had never let himself take pleasure in things, ever since his breakup [at KFC] twenty years ago… but now it felt different. He felt like he had one chance to do this and he wasn’t going to spoil it. Your hands were so warm, he could just imagine how warm your mouth would be, gagging on his length.

Large hands cupped your ass and lifted your body, causing you to exclaim loudly and wrap your arms around his neck for stability. He was so strong, you could hardly believe it. It was pure talent and genetics that made him perfect on every level. His face was godly and his body was sculpted from the heavens just for your perverted stare. The male set you down gently in the tub, being mindful to make sure you didn’t land too hard on your plush backside. He wanted to save the bruising on your skin for when it was from him. He wanted his hands to be the ones leaving imprint after imprint on your skin, slapping and grabbing without a care for what would be left behind. He plopped down into the water, not caring if he got water to spill from the sides. He didn’t care about anything, because his hands and eyes were glued to you. His hands hooked around your hips and pulled you onto his lap, still being mindful not to hurt you. 

You grinned and leaned forward, pushing strands of ebony-colored hair across his forehead and away from his beautiful eyes. Purple, they stared back at you gently. “This… is nice,” you spoke softly, pressing your lips first on his forehead, then his nose, before landing on his lips. It was chaste, as the first kiss had been. But it didn’t stay that way for long. Suguru’s tongue slipped its way into your mouth and took over with a dominating force, making you bite back a whimper. It felt so good. He knew exactly how to move it to elicit whatever reaction he pleased. Your hands raked through his hair, before grabbing fistfuls at the root and moaning into his mouth. He liked that, moaning with you.  

“...Harder,” he mumbled against your open mouth, kissing back for more.

“What a pretty little masochist,” you smiled, running your hands through the roots of his hair before clenching them down and yanking up another fistful, hearing him whine in his low gravelly voice. Fuck… it just made you so wet. You clenched your thighs together as you kissed up his face, pulling his hair just to hear the ardor-esc moans fill the room. This was even better than sex, just hearing him get a little bit of pleasure out of this hair-pulling would’ve been satisfactory. But as you did this, you felt his hands fondle your ass, squeezing and palming your skin. It wasn’t long before he lifted you and had you position his throbbing dick against your folds. 

You had never felt a dick this good penetrate you in your life. Something about the way it curved to the left and the bulbous head, touched areas you didn’t even know you had, just on the way down. You threw your head back in a breathy whine, rocking your hips back and forth once you felt yourself hit the base of his cock. Suguru used his two hands to help you slide up his length, then down again. He had you trapped in a rhythm of fucking your tight cunt with his member, making you his fuck toy. The male had never felt himself slip into such a trace over a monkey of all people. Non-sorcerers should have not had this hold on him, but you were different. You gasped and bit down on your hand to stop a loud groan escaping your mouth, with your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

“Dirty slut,” Suguru uttered, biting on his bottom lip to stop his own noises from getting too loud. No one could figure out this was happening. It was wrong. It was against everything he had ever stood for. But …god it felt so good. Your walls clenched around him every time he forced you down on his length, taking the time to feel up your hips and ass. You were so soft, inside and out. The perfect toy he could use. 

It didn’t take him long to feel close, a familiar pang of desire creeping up the shaft of his cock. You were beyond ready to cum, with this log inside you it wouldn’t take long. You bit down on your fingertips and cried out, not having time to muffle your wails of pleasure. It was a warmth you hadn’t felt in such a long time wash over your whole vagina, flushing out through your body next. You convulsed, grinding your hips back and forth to continue to elongate your high for as much as possible, causing a second orgasm on your way down. No one had ever made you cum like that, making you dumbfounded by the sheer will of their dick. 

The cult leader felt himself throbbing for release, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it inside you. There couldn’t be any evidence of your joint mistake running around in nine months, not here. Instead, he pulled you off his cock and pressed his lips together, “Press your…” He motioned to your breasts then his cock, “So I can…” You nodded and pressed your tits together, pushing them up against the length of his dick. That was all he needed, using his left hand to finish the job. He focused his energy on the swollen tip, leaking precum and begging to release all over your mounds of perfect flesh. Mounds he wanted so desperately to put in his mouth and suck. 

Then he came, splattering out of his cock and messily coating your tits. Most of the cum was on your skin, although half of it also found its way into the water. You bit your lip as he came and thrust into the air, into nothing. It was like volt after volt of pure pleasure was shot through his urethra and forced out in one big release, a release he didn’t know he was even capable of. Your cunt had felt so good it made Suguru’s dick completely sensitive to any kind of touches, including his own. So when he came, he let out a loud whine, in his devilishly low voice, “F-fuck… mmm shit.. This was.. Hah.. a mis-mistake,” he breathed out, trying to regulate himself after he had just felt an explosive orgasm run through his penis.

You nodded and looked down at your breasts, coated in his cum. How were you going to explain to Manami that all of your clothes mysteriously wound up torn in Lord Geto’s bathroom? And how were you going to explain the fact you were also covered in Lord Geto’s cum?

“...Can I call you Suguru now?” You asked after a moment, tilting your head to the man who looked as though he had just run a marathon. 

There was something utterly interesting about your personality now that you had freed it from your nervous shackles. Suguru didn’t want to extinguish this new fire in your eyes, he wanted to foster it and let it burn. There was no way he was developing some kind of feelings for you other than lust… there was no way. But there were going to be dramatic changes now. After that day, you were treated as one of the regular Sorcerers, which infuriated Manami to no end. You were the most prized possession of Suguru Geto and everyone knew not to anger or upset you because he would get wind of it. Then… there’d be trouble. You were his prized possession. The possession he wanted to see smile and laugh in the sunlight, rather than stay inside and do mindless chores. The possession he wanted to have slept next to him in his bed at night and wrapped his large arms around. 

The possession he was growing to… love.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Part I: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Part I: On her daily morning run, Y/N wonders if she’ll ever have someone who wants her simply company. Spencer promises her just that, the only catch: she has to wait seven years.

Rating: Eventual smut, fluff and longing

Word Count: 3.5K

Series Masterlist | Tell Me What You Think!

My Mind Turns You Into Folklore: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Running, somehow, still made her feel like a child. Perhaps there was something unadulterated and carefree about losing yourself in the pounding of pavement. When Y/N felt the wind rush in her ears and the familiar burn throughout her body, she truly felt alive.

Her entire body ached— no, screamed— as she approached her fifth mile for the day’s session. For Y/N running wasn’t about getting to the destination fastest, but about finishing the race altogether.

She wished she could apply such wisdom to very particular aspects of her life. Namely, her love life. For Y/N, relationships with men were unpleasantly predictable. From terrible blind dates with friends who she honestly can’t tell if they meant well to men with habits so strange Y/N could only plead insanity by a drunken state as to why she entertained even a second glance. Unfortunately, for her the sea of men seemed to solely be comprised of rather the unfortunate sort of men that made her skin crawl.

Her knees burned as her mind ran through the five weddings and babies that were impending. Between cousins, college friends, and even her own sister all either, Y/N never more lonely than when she was surrounded by her people. There was something particularly voyeuristic about watching those you love move along the carousel while you’re left in the dust. She was a casual observer, marooned to the sidelines. And someone where along the way she forgot to even care.

Her chest burned as she wondered where her aunt, a woman born and forged from pure spite and hefty lack of tolerance for anything progressive, would sit her at her cousin’s wedding. Y/N heaved forward imagining what would be worse; the discarded old widow’s table with wives whose husbands’ expiration date had come and passed. Or with her unruly nephews who would have to be wrestled into a tiny tuxedo and bribed with fried food and the majesty of Red40 to maintain the semblance of civility.

Being 27, husbandless, boyfriendless, and childless didn’t usually bother Y/N. She loved her peace. But somehow it put her into this plane of existence where she straddled youth and adulthood. She had one foot jammed deep into the rich, sodden earth of childhood and one toe dipping too all too calm to be safe waters of adulthood. Yet being uncoupled was as if she purchased overnight shipping to the elephant graveyard.

It was antiquated. It was downright sexist, yet there was a small part of her heart and her entire being that craved to be taken care of by a man. She wanted someone to bring her flowers just because, to hug her from behind while she stirred soup for dinner on a chilly day, to brush her hair from her face as he brought her to the brink of pleasure time and time again.

There was only so much her vibrator could do.

But a heart that ached to be loved, that problem didn’t come with a WebMD link. There wasn’t a quick and easy fix to change something that defined her on a molecular level.

She savored the sweet breeze that reminded her of summer and childhood. The houses, various shades of blue, gray, and beige blurred past as she maintained her steady pace.

Y/N rounded the corner and pounded the pavement that led to Betsy’s Cape Cod. She was the Head Librarian and took Y/N under her rather Mother Goose-like wing three years ago when she took the position at the small, sleepy library. A suburb of Quantico, many of the patrons were families in public service.

She even stumbled across someone who quickly became her best friend, Spencer. He was some sort of former child prodigy turned adult wunderkid. After racking up more diplomas than most extended families collect, Spencer worked as a special agent for the FBI. But looking at him, you would never have guessed. He was timid and shy in a boyish way that made him seem much younger than 32. He was tall and lanky, yet despite his slender frame he seemed to completely light up every single room he walked into.

Both Betsy and Spencer buried themselves into the fabric of her life. Betsy sat on the front porch, slowly swaying on the large, wooden swing. A crocheted blanket lay over her lap, keeping her warm under the brisk morning’s chill.

“Y/N!” Betsy called, as she ascended the stairs with a bright smile, “Dearie, it’s far too cold for you to run out here.”

“I could say the same about you, Bets,”

Betsy dismissed Y/N with a coy smile and a wave of her hand. “It’s good for my old bones to get a little chill. Make sure everything is in working order.”

Betsy scooted over on the porch swing, making more than enough room for Y/N to sit.

“That tall kid? Hmm, Spencer? Yes. Spencer. Was in there looking for you yesterday. Poor kid’s entire day was ruined when I told him you were on a date. Now, is there a reason why you didn’t tell me you didn’t tell your best friend?” Betsy asked, not hesitating to ask a question that went straight for the jugular.

Y/N offered Betsy a weak smile. “There wasn’t anything to tell him. He’s not interested in my love life. We talk about books. And work. And… I don’t know…”

Betsy nodded, but her pointed look pressed Y/N to continue. There wasn’t anything romantic between her and Spencer, but that wasn’t to say the connection wasn’t the most important thing in her life. When she met him three years ago he simply waltzed into her life; a tall, gangly man with a large appetite for baked goods and an excellent taste in literature.

“Besides, he has a thing for his coworker. Even though she hardly acknowledges his existence.”

From the time she met Spencer, he constantly was talking about his teammates. Growing up, Spencer didn’t have a stable family life. His mother tried her best, while his father never tried at all. He grown up not knowing what it was like to belong anywhere and now he finally found something resembling a family.

JJ was blonde and skinny and perfect and Spencer was completely enamored with her. Y/N met her only a couple of times, the first after a football game. She shared a plate of cheese fries and gravy with Spencer’s other coworker, Penelope as Spencer attempted to spout an almanac’s worth of facts about football to JJ.

“Hmm,” Betsy murmured, swinging back and forth. “Well, he said he has to talk to you about something. Maybe he’s getting to his senses, finally.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipped some of the ice cold lemonade Betsy handed her, and gave her a pointed smile.

“This isn’t a romance novel, Bets. You’ve been sneaking too many of those bodice rippers.”

She stood up and felt some relief as her weary muscles stretched. Betsy waved another annoyed hand.

“Quiet down, Missy. I’ve had my chance at love. And I fully intend on you and Spencer being an item. My Arnold, may that old bastard rest in peace, never gave me children, so you and that boy are my only chance to fill this house with grandkids.”

“Oh my God, Betsy,” Y/N groaned, her head tossed back, “It’s not like that between us. And I promise you, it never will be.”

Y/N took off before Betsy had the chance to respond. But she couldn’t shake the funny feeling tugging at her heartstrings. She thought that maybe if she just focused her mind on feeling the wind blow her hair and her body burn as the third mile turned into a fifth, she could wash away the thoughts of one or two little children sitting on Betsy’s porch, sandwiched in between her and Spencer.

***

Gary, as it turned out, wasn’t a nice guy. First of all, he showed up precisely 23 and a half minutes late and hardly bothered to greet her as he sat down at their two seater table. He barked a drink order to the waitress, who graciously threw Y/N a sympathetic smile.

“So you work at Walter Reed?” Y/N asked, attempting to make conversation with the man seated in front of her. He was a couple years her senior and an Attending Emergency Room Doctor. On paper Gary seemed wonderful. He had a nice family; older sisters were always a green flag in Y/N’s book and seemed to have a basic grasp of personal hygiene practices.

Gary mumbled as the waitress brought him his drink: whisky on rocks. He downed it in about three minutes and signaled for the waitress to return.

“Sorry,” Gary apologized, his voice so close to resembling being embarrassed, but it, somewhere along the line, made a beeline in the opposite direction, “There was some bitch in the ER today complaining about how her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she was pregnant. Took me a god damn hour to shut her up. Jesus, reminds me why I don’t date.”

Y/N felt her face freeze. It was like his harsh words poured ice water over her shoulders. Her skin practically crawled as Gary’s carelessness settled in. Wasn’t this a date? Or was this simply the means for Gary to get into her pants.

“Hold up,” Y/N said, gesturing with her hand held up to stop Gary’s rant, “I was under the impression this was a date. Is it not?”

Gary shrugged. “As long as there’s a happy ending with you, babe I don’t give a fuck.”

He was crass. Y/N was far from a prude. She enjoyed her time in college and didn’t mind the occasional quick one night stand when the opportunity presented itself, but there would be something completely debasing and revolting about sleeping with the man sitting before her.

“I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression.” Y/N said, her words clipped and stern: there wasn’t room for Gary to mix up any bit of her message. “I’m not looking for a fuck-buddy. And even if I was, it certainly wouldn’t be you. We’ve been sitting here for all of twelve minutes and you’ve already drank two whiskys, been rude to the waitress, insulted a patient, and offended me.”

Gary, in a lackadaisical way that could only be described as a fuckboy with the worst case of Peter Pan syndrome, shrugged his shoulders. He downed the rest of his second whisky, “You’re a frigid bitch anyway.”

He left.

And Y/N laughed. Then she ordered two slices of double chocolate cheesecake and asked the waitress where the closest liquor store was.

***

Silently, she cursed Spencer’s charming love of buildings with character. She bounded up the steps to his apartment, the plastic bag with the two slices of cheesecake banged against her leg. Her other hand clutched the neck of a cheap, screw top rose.

Her date, disastrous, was nearly comical, and she couldn’t wait to recount the details to Spencer.

They share a sort of sadistic penchant for relaying moments for their occasional first dates. Typically, Y/N had more than Spencer. On the rare occasion Spencer did have a date, Y/N found herself trying to explain that any girl in her right mind would attempt to flirt with Spencer, but he refused to see her points.

Not bothering to knock, Y/N opted to use the spare key Spencer gave her. She figured he’d either still be working at the office or would be too engrossed in his latest fantasy novel to bother answering the door.

Spencer’s apartment was painted a dusty, sage green. The farthest wall was lined with built-in bookshelves. A prewar relic, Spencer’s style mixed perfectly with the vintage quality embedded within the walls.

Up until recently, Spencer’s kitchen was hardly used. But Y/N had taken it upon herself to teach Spencer the basics in prepping meals. He was a quick study, as with almost everything he tried. And it gave her some peace knowing he would be able to provide himself something more satiating than granola bars and frozen lasagna.

“Spencer! Spence!” Y/N called out, dipping her head into Spencer’s second bedroom. There was a queen bed in there with a cream colored quilt splashed out on the bed.

On late nights spent watching old, black and white movies or binging episodes of The Twilight Zone and The X-Files, she would crash there. It was a fight for her to even concede to allow Spencer to purchase the queen bed. Y/N claimed that she was fine just sleeping on the couch, but Spencer insisted that she sleep in a bed.

And if Y/N had been born into a braver soul, she would’ve suggested they share his bed three years ago.

Spencer shuffled out of his bathroom, eyes red and weary. He wore a tattered Cal-Tech shirt and plaid pajama pants. He wore his glasses. They rested on the bridge of his nose and made him lose at least four or five years on his already young looking face.

“She’s pregnant.”

“I brought wine. And chocolate cheesecake.” Y/N replied, kicking her shoes off. “And you better have done laundry already because I am not sleeping in this dress. I feel ridiculous in it.”

Spencer’s eyes raked over Y/N’s frame, as if he was internally debating his thoughts on her outfit. His brow furrowed. “You’re date?”

“Asshole.” Y/N said, walking into the kitchen. She plucked two wine glasses from Spencer’s cabinet and two plates. “Arrogant and only wanted a quick fuck.”

His voice disappeared as he went into his room for a change of pajamas. They were freshly washed. She continued to listen to Spencer as she shut the bathroom door and changed behind. His voice was no longer muffled when she came out of the bathroom, but she did notice how Spencer’s eyes still were heavy with something unfamiliar when he looked over her baggy, old pajama-clad frame.

“You’re not the girl for that.” Spencer commented, reaching for the corkscrew. His large hands twisted around the device and the bottle of wine made a satisfying pop.

“You don’t know that.” Y/N countered, her defiance made a crop of red appear on Spencer’s cheeks. “Besides, that’s not the point. JJ’s pregnant. With that New Orleans guy’s baby?”

He nodded. It was as if grief washed over Spencer as Y/N changed the conversation. She knew that Spencer was harboring feelings for JJ. Jennifer was nearly perfect in every way. The only imperfect thing about her was that she didn’t realize how perfect Spencer was. He would’ve adored JJ if he got the chance. He nearly did.

“And how do you feel about that?”

Spencer groaned, pouring himself a healthy cup of rosé. “Unsure. It’s not like I’m going to confront her about this. She’s practically engaged to Will. And now there’s a baby in the picture? A baby who’s very well going to grow up seeing me as Uncle Spencer.”

He sounded exhausted. Y/N touched his hand and squeezed. She understood the pained loneliness that plagued Spencer’s voice. “I don’t love JJ anymore. It’s just, my whole life I felt like I was so far beyond my peers. And now? They all finally have caught up, this time the tables have turned. God, I’m excited when a girl smiles at me, let alone goes on a date with me.”

Weakly, Y/N smiled. She sipped her rose, “So it’s more of feeling like you’re far beyond in life? Despite having two PhDs and like three undergrad degrees? You’re one of the most accomplished men I know, Spencer. And we all move along at our own pace. Don’t compare JJ’s story to yours.”

He nodded, spooning a bite of the double chocolate cheesecake. “It’s just…I’m nearly 32. And now I’m watching JJ and Hotch and Morgan talk about babies and husbands and wives and houses. And I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be lucky enough to get that one day. Sometimes… I think I’m too me for anyone to fall in love with me.”

Y/N felt her heart shatter into a million little pieces as Spencer’s honest confession striked her entire system. She wanted to reach out and push away the stray curl that hooked itself in front of his eyebrow. She wanted to reach out and wipe away his tears. She wanted to tell her friend that if no one married him, she would.

She stalked off the to couch, needing a stable place to sit. Her chocolate cheesecake stuck to the roof of her mouth and the bitter rosé did nothing to remove it.

“Holy shit, Spencer. Do you not realize that you’d make any girl happy? You’ll find her one day, I know it. And if you don’t, we can just say fuck it and get married. I mean, I know it wouldn’t be romantic love, but we could at least live together. Through a big fancy party and get dressed up nice and getting drunk on mojitos with my best friend. My person? Sounds fun.”

“You mean that?” Spencer asked, half in disbelief and half in wonderment. “You mean that we’ll get married if neither of us have someone…say seven years from now?”

She must’ve drank more than she thought as she waited for Gary to ruin their date. “I meant it. But why seven?”

A smile toyed on Spencer lips. She noticed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“It’s my lucky number.”

Her lips were so loose that it threatened to crack open her heart. She had a nasty habit of wearing that on her sleeve.

She gave Spencer a sheepish look as his eyes met hers. He looked half between incredulous and hopeful. His fingers ran across the rim of his wine glass as the wine sloshed around. It mirrored Y/N’s stomach.

“Is this idea like bad shit crazy?” Y/N asked. “I mean it. I mean, why not. It’s not so different from what we do now. Just all the time. And I’d be thrilled to be spiritually required to spend more time with you.”

“Should we….shake hands or something. I’m not the biggest fan of that, but I think my wife would serve as an exception to the rule. To every rule I’ve got?”

Y/N laughed. She felt the wine creep up a nice, warm flush against her skin. It matched the light and easy way her limbs felt. It might have very well been the wine, but there wasn’t much of anything that could trump laughing with your best friend. Especially when that best friend slipped and called you his wife.

Her feet somehow ended up in Spencer’s lap. His thumb rubbed gently against her ankle, barely touching her bare skin. Yet it sent shockwaves that she didn’t quite understand.

The corners of Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he reciprocated that laugh. They shared it and Y/N had the strangest desire to bottle it up. She wanted to store this moment in her mind and come back to it. One day. Some day.

“We’ll get married,” Spencer started speaking as if it was a prophecy that he could set in stone, “if neither of us has anyone, we’ll enter this rather odd, rather complex, yet completely entirely normal and simple marriage in seven years?” His sweet, yet coy smile was boyish, it only reminded Y/N just how far away 35 was for her.

“Should we draft up a contract?”

“Have your lawyers contact my lawyers. I never sign documents without the proper legal support. In the meantime, could we settle on our first stipulation: never watching a new episode of our current favorite show without the other?”

“I agree to the terms and conditions you’ve set out.” Y/N said. She grabbed the blanket that rested on the back of the couch as Spencer turned off the lamp light.

“Oh and I washed the sheets in your room. I used the detergent you like. And your pajamas. The lavender vanilla one with the scent beads?” He flipped on an episode of The Twilight Zone.

She smiled from the way Spencer naturally called the guest room her bedroom. There was something very domestic and peaceful about him using her favorite detergent to wash the sheets in her room in his apartment. It resembled the exact something that she was craving: being taken care of.

She sipped her rose again, watching as her friend smiled at the gray scale painted on the screen. It was too bad she only had to weight over half a decade to feel it and not feel guilty and like she was lying to herself.

—

Taglist:

@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @mrs-dr-reid @reid-ingandweeping @candlesandsoftrain @foxy-eva @queermaxwooo

[imjustdelusionalok]

yandere!dc: goddess! darling

ⁱⁿᶠᵒ ᵃᵇᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵈᵃʳˡⁱⁿᵍ۫ ꣑ৎ

darling is a god from another world who just so happens to immigrate into the dc universe after a very long time of probably embodying... well, everything.

firstly having to live for love as a human, and then ending it all to fight for the beauty of life as god.

she is the reason for existence, from the big to the miniscule.

(so basically op goddess reader who has wayyyy too much power in their hands-- ex: nothing can kill them, nothing can put an end to them, etc--)

the least you could do is seal away her powers, but even that would truly not be enough because your only sealing away 0.000000000000001%. (i mean that 💀)

*cough* anyway... aside from goddess reader backstory, lets go to the inspiration <33

she's a mix of Madokami from Puella Magi, HoF Kiana Kaslana from Honkai Impact, and mostly of Ishtar Ashtart/Space Ishtar from Fate Grand Order <3

originally kind and lighthearted after becoming 'God', but as time passes and stars dimmed, she has become... well... neutral. not good, but DEFINITELY not bad. like this!

"let me help you :)" to "...From the dawn of creation. Man has come from the ground not by his hand but mine. go back to the land and return to dust."

summary: lawful, void, alien... yet beautiful, destructive, human.

sooooo. yup.

:p

ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ۫ ꣑ৎ

...she has met the justice league before. because, who in their right minds would ignore the giant falling 'star' that came out of a very visible tear in the sky caused by said celestial body???

dramatically crashing down the surface like a meteorite, you lowkey may have destroyed a 'few' buildings... whoopsies :p

they are surprised. this... girl, no- alien, exudes endless quantity of power, leaking from every blurred pore. it also seems like they might be power themselves...

batman goes bazingas at the amount of destruction caused by your fall leading to an airheaded you getting towed to the JL headquarters and any sort of refusal or fighting back is unallowed. (even tho your more than capable of destroying anything AND everything you still oblige)

though cool as ice, you are so confused deep down. head tilted, vacant expression, the usual from the emotionally detached goddess albeit with a little change. 'what are these humans talking about?' you think, 'what threat?' you think again, unaware that you are the threat being spoken of.

the white slits of the vigilante's mask narrows at your disposition. everything about you seems... off. from your oppressing aura, to the... heavenly allure your blankness brings.

"more alien than the actual alien," a familiar scarlet speedster jokes, in an attempt to lighten the heavy mood. (he failed horribly btw) said alien rolls their eyes and sighs. though he has to admit, you lowkey look kind of cute... but he stops, remembering lois.

once you say your side of the story, they go all shocked pikachu faces again. your a god from another seperate world??? i mean dont get them wrong though, they had their fair share of situations like these, as some dc villains and heroes they know arent even from here originally. but they cant help but feel a bit different about you, something about you makes their soul writhe... and its not in a bad way.

so once B confirms your not a threat despite your extreme potential to act like one, everybody is relieved. you just need a littleeeeeee supervision, thats all :3

and oh look at that, your actually not that bad. your cold demeanor fades once they got to know you, and that void in your eyes is filled with a light comparable to the twilight star's soothing glow— pure, tranquil, and ever so mystifying.

every step you take, life seems to exist and flourish all around you. life heals around you. not only that, but also... them. the dead part of them actually, that died from complications now too complicated to be retold and remembered.

you fill the void they never knew they had, and all their aching scars were no longer painful but tolerable. bearable even, and its all because of you.

at this point, everybody knows how this all plays out. this ordinary tune, twisted into a fanatic's song.

their once innocent admiration has now spoiled into something darker, the more you stay in this world. holy eyes peeked at it, not at them but at the abyss that is their 'love.'

...you were starting to get aware. and a rarity occurred, you were... 'saddened'. for eternities you lived alone, and in an attempt to reconnect with that sliver of humanity you hid and kept, you went here to feel something again. and you did, and you were so successful.

too successful, in fact.

they loved you; so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, sooooo much. without you, they would die! :(

and that, in your eyes, is what makes you 'sad'. if your presence drives your beloved mortals to insanity's grip, then you must fly.

fly away from this despair, fly away from this madness.

your 'love' is your undoing, and ultimately also theirs.

their eyes widen as the sky is torn once again, and a familiar star flies back into it, meaning that you--- left. left? left. left? left... left.

something inside them breaks. both hearts any sense of rationality and morality left.

there is no reason to exist without you it seems, and they will do everything just to see you once more, even a second's glimpse.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

...you can't help but feel something you havent felt for a very long time. what was it again, sadness? anxiety? fear? you dont know. the endless rows of your ivory silks flutter even in the slightest movement. something tugs at you, your mind and heart. something tugs at you, telling... that it is far from over.

they call for you, their cries drowned in obsession masquerading as love.

you never answer, as your supposed concern and care for them lessens and your patience dwindles. reality is cruel, but never crueler than you. and that's when you realized it.

...they make your skin crawl. they make you want to vomit. they make you want to scream and cry. they make your ichor run cold. and if they touch you again, you'll--

...huh. who would have thought that was how you truly felt, goddess.

[st4rtar0t]

How I would connect certain movie dialogues with specific astrological placements

Keep in mind that I am still a beginner, so these may or may not resonate.

I am the rightful owner of the content of this post and any kind of plagiarism will not be tolerated.

"pyaar dosti hai, agar wo meri sabse acchi dost nhi ban sakti toh mei usse kabhi pyaar hi nhi kar sakta"

Translation

"Love is friendship. If she can't be my best friend, then I can never love her."

Venus in Aquarius or the 11th house.

Moon in Libra or Aquarius.

Why? Because these placements suggest a strong desire for genuine understanding and friendship in their relationships.

"Tusi ja rahe ho, tusi na jao"

Translation

"you are leaving, please don't go"

Venus in Pisces

Moon in cancer or strong 4th house influence

The moon in cancer can give attachment to the person you love and cause difficulties in letting them go. Venus in Pisces makes a person extremely devotional towards the person they love, hence making them extremely attached.

"MERE HISAAB SE TOH DHARM EK HI KAAM KARTA HAI, YA TOH WOH INSAAN KO BEBAS BANATA HAI, YA AATANKWAADI."

Translation

"In my opinion, religion only does one thing: it either makes a person helpless or a ter*orist."

Ketu in 9th house

Saturn in 9th house

sun in Aquarius

These placements indicate that the native will question religious beliefs and be critical of the customs or traditions.

"Jab zindagi ek bar mili hai toh do bar kyun soche."

Translation

"when you only live once, why think twice?"

Mars in Aries or Sagittarius

jupiter in the 1st house

Sun in Leo or Sagittarius

These placements can make someone really courageous, bold, spontaneous and optimistic. They will not second guess themselves or doubt their decisions because they fully believe in themselves.

"Zindagi jeene ke do hi tarike hote hai - Ek jo ho raha hai hone do, bardaasht karte jao, ya phir zimmedari uthao usse badalne ki."

Translation

"There are only two ways to live life: either let things happen and keep enduring, or take responsibility to change them."

Saturn in 1st or 10th house

sun in Capricorn

and mars in Aries or Scorpio

These placements make a person action oriented, creates a strong sense of responsibility, authority and taking charge. These placements make a person disciplined in achieving their goals.

"Success ke piche mat bhago. Kabil bano kabil. Kamyabi toh sali jhak maar ke peeche ayegi."

Translation

"Don’t chase success. Become capable, truly capable. Success will come running after you."

Saturn in 10th house

jupiter in Capricorn

and mars in Virgo

All these placements focus on self improvement through hard work and sufficient efforts. Mars in Virgo makes perfectionists through constantly improving their abilities.

"Haar tab hoti hai, jab haar man li jaye"

Translation

"Defeat only occurs when one chooses to accept it."

Saturn in 1st house or strong Saturn influence

Mars in Capricorn

Sun in leo

Pluto in the 1st house

People with these placements are resilient, determined and do not accept defeat easily. They are focused on winning and transforming.

Let me know if you liked it or not

[phantomsies]

grown woman • r. sukuna

📝: modern au, black fem!reader (she’s in her 30’s), alcohol use, missionary, oral sex (f. receiving), choking, cumshot, subby-ish sukuna, spit play

wc: 2.2K

📃: I’m still struggling to get back used to tumblr so I’m gonna be a lil slow posting. It’ll also be on patreon as well and hopefully, it doesn’t get flagged!

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞═

a subtle touch, a gentle kiss..a slight nudge of the nose to the neck. It was all of the small movements that made him tick. Even the slightest bit of movement sent his heart into a fit of flutters. Honestly, it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of either..for he was simply a man in love. Unapologetically and unconditionally. Some would even credit you solely for his change in demeanor…from a slick, smooth talking womanizer who couldn’t even spell love. To the shameless romantic with enough passion to fuel the entire planet. Hell, if you let him tell it, the world didn’t even start spinning and the sun never shined until you came around. In essence, you changed his life!..and quite frankly, his image as well.

Ryomen Sukuna was known for many things throughout his life but being a monotonous, adoring homebody was not one of them! No longer were the days of club hopping and late night hookups…wandering home with whatever girl piqued his interest for the night and taking out all of his unbridled sexual frustration on her. In an even more callous move, she was out before the sun even rose and her name was irrelevant. He’d come to work with the same charming, fun disposition as if he hadn’t ruined another girl’s perception of love and healthy relationships. It was all a part of the game as far as he was concerned. So naturally, when you entered his life over a year and a half ago..never would this man have imagined that he’d be standing in the kitchen of a shared condo; towel draped over his bare shoulder as he stirred a pot of homemade sauce to serve with the dinner he’d prepared for you. Domesticated like an animal that had once roamed the streets mindlessly..now, spending his Saturday nights drinking wine with R&B reverberating through the speakers of a mounted flat screen. It was the after effects of dealing with a grown woman, after all. Firm in what you wanted, even more steadfast in what you wouldn’t tolerate and what he could do if the rules didn’t suit his fancy. However, him walking out of the door was the least of your worries now. Especially when you had him reeled in so closely.

“Mmmph..damn.”

the gesture catching his attention as you sat adjacent to him on the couch. Long, slender brown legs crossed as you nursed your own glass of Sauvignon. It was your third one of the evening and it was certainly taking its toll. So much so, your appetite had completely shifted from what was being prepared…

“Don’t worry. The food’s almost done..just finishing up a few things.”

to the one who had so graciously concocted the meal! Make no mistake, Ryo’s cooking was nothing short of a divine dining experience. But the carbonara wasn’t the only thing you were in the mood to slurp on! See, he could appreciate your honesty for the things you desired. How you weren’t shy or bashful about your needs. So long had he been the one controlling the narrative..making the decisions and sadly, trampling all over the women in his life because they made it easy to do so. But you weren’t any of them and that fact was reinstilled each time you two were alone. (Y/N) had finally grown tiresome of quelling your urges and set the cogs in motion so that this evening could truly end the way you both hoped for. You’d been hiding your time, watching him move around from the stove to the fridge, bringing you tiny samples in between and even halting momentarily to steal an influx of kisses. He’d been fantasizing about spreading you out on that table but with growth came reservation and he always waited for you to initiate things now. Twirling him around and moving him as if he were your puppet and like the helpless lover boy he’d transformed into, Ryo followed!

“Actually…why don’t you turn that off? I’ve got something better..” Instead of preparing plates, he was summoned by the wave of a finger..decorated with French tips and the sight of your fur lined robe slightly ajar from you pulling it open. “Oh, is that right? So watching me sweat over that stove was just for your amusement then, huh?” You immediately sensed the sarcasm in that deep voice of his and that toothy, foolish grin on his face gave away any hint of annoyance. As he drew closer, your legs spread further apart and you’d welcome him in between with no hesitation. Cackling as your lips connected into sloppy tongue kisses and those nimble hands cupped his face. Those large tattooed hands wasting no time in groping you subtly as they roamed your exposed skin.

“More like for my pleasure. Now shut up and come eat this pussy..”

his sharp eyes would cut at you, followed by a chuckle as that frame towered over you. Both of his hands and arms resting by your side like two giant pillars.

“And since when did you start telling me what the fuck to do? You know I don’t take orders from anyone.” But if Ryomen knew one fact..it was that you weren’t these other little girls he was used to fooling around with! You’d put him in his place and he’d stay there if he knew what was good for him. Quiet as it was kept, he loved the shit! Something about being bossed around by a woman who was a fraction of his size made him illicit feelings he shouldn’t have. Sitting cross armed with seemingly not a care in the world, (y/n) raised your leg..only to place it atop his shoulder blade and pressed down until that six foot five frame sank to its knees.

“Yet here you are…doing..exactly what the fuck I told you.” Honestly, that snarky tone would’ve gotten anyone else slung across the room. But not you..he graciously accepted those demands and got to work. The tension was mounting and veins began to protrude from his forehead. Without a single moment of haste, Ryo aggressively tugged your panties to the left side and out of his way..allowing him to delve into your center. Leaving sloppy, full licks all over your wet folds, suckling roughly on your clit and clawing his fingers into your thighs in the event you tried to scoot away from him. It didn’t take long before a trail of saliva and delicious cream began to trickle down to your most sensitive areas.

“Ugh!—fuck..yeah, good boy. You know what I need.”

your words seemed to have elicited a response out of him; a half verbal one that caused him to loudly grunt and follow it with a hard slap to your thigh. Eventually, your legs began to tremble and the sensation reverberated throughout your entire body. “You better be lucky you taste so goddamn good..I shouldn’t give you shit.” “Mmmhm. I hear you…”

Meanwhile, your digits scoured his hair..guiding his head along. Your legs were resting idly on Ryo’s shoulder and still rattling when you’d feel your throat constrict. Those large hands coiled around your neck and he’d squeeze lightly just to add to your mounting pleasure. Those calculated movements would only continue to grow increasingly more aggressive and euphoric. By the time he came up for a semblance of air, you’d coated your boyfriend’s face in a veil of sticky warmth. (Y/N) clawed at his forearm, but to no avail. He’d finally gotten you within his clutches..just as that orgasm drew near. Just as your entrance began to contract around his middle and index fingers whilst they worked inside of you. And just as you were about to release, he’d rise to his feet and hover over you. Burrowing his knees into the couch cushion and positioning himself between those parted legs. With a deviant scowl on his face and in one fell swoop, Ryo tugged at the elastic waistband of his Nike sweats; bringing them to the floor and his stiff cock from their confines. It was seeping..the tip puddling with precum and aching to be nestled balls deep inside of you.

“Look at you..about to pass out. How cute.”

“But I’m not. So fuck me until I do..”

however, rather than being greeted with frail whimpers and pleas for mercy, (y/n) returned that smile with your tongue dangling from your mouth and commands to do his worst! ”You got a lot of fucking mouth, y’know that? Talk that shit with this dick inside of you. I’d love to hear that.”

Those freshly shaven lips were tapped with that pulsating cock head before it found its way between those silky walls.. and quite possibly his kryptonite!..only fitting about three solid inches before he’d begin to buckle. Frustration truly began to set in when he realized your reaction didn’t mirror his own and instead of being met with the sight of hands pawing at his abs, those acrylics rested on your clit and began to trace circles. Your tits sitting upright as you peered down to see how far he’d got in.

“And you really think that’s enough to shut me up? C’mon, baby. You can do better than that.”

it was always him..always him talking and guiding his sexual partners through the sessions. It was always him who was vocal and demanding the next move..but you’d once again flipped all those notions onto their heads! Tightening that force against your throat, Ryo sought to prove himself. Starting out with only a couple slow strokes before drilling into you full fledge. Loud smacking noises from colliding flesh filled the room and with that hulking frame towering over you, he’d try his best to get you to break! Feeding you long, deep and impactful thrusts..interchanging fingers from your throat to your mouth and even pressing into your stomach to feel his own imprint.

Anything to garner dominance..but it was you with the upper hand. Even with that deranged simper stretching from ear to ear, (y/n) still egged him on. Despite tears trickling down your face and that fresh silk press becoming disheveled. Your toes curled midair as they remained on his chiseled pecs..limbs flailing about and your screams added to the chorus of chaotic noises. Your juices began to puddle and a sheath of white leaked from that tight hole. In that moment, he’d glance up to see only the whites of your eyes and thought it was a golden opportunity.

“Yeah..I knew it. Knew you couldn’t handle—“ “Yes, baby! Give it to me..make this pussy come!..make me nut on that fucking dick..” But condition aside, you’d laugh and become joyous at the sight of his roughness. Opening your jaws graciously for slaps and trails of spit. Taking every inch as if it were nothing…even when you’d begin to squirt and dampen those abs. He’d expected you to cower down and eventually tap out, like all the others before you. That he would be the top dog at the end of this little rendezvous. But when he felt that pulsation of his own climax nearing, Ryomen began to panic. Doubling down on his hard strokes, his pace and movements becoming erratic and the onset fear that he’d be coming in a shorter duration than he ever had!..it was too much..and yet again, in another move for control, (y/n) made the final call.

“Pull out..I want it on my face..” too spent and quite frankly, too enamored to fight back, the all mighty Ryomen Sukuna..notorious playboy turned pathetic fuck toy..retracted and allowed you to do as you wished. Leaning up, you’d wrap those nimble hands around his shaft and make jerking motions until that warm splatter of cum rain down on your mouth, tits and pretty features. “G’ahh! F-fuck..I’m coming!—“ “I know, baby. I know..give it all to me. Let me drain you..”

All with a toothy grin and that maniacal cackle as you licked up the remnants. But not before ushering him in for another kiss.

“Thank you, daddy..just what I needed. See, you can follow directions.”

It was at that exact moment that the epiphany crossed his mind. And all Ryo could do was burst into laughter. No more were his days of mindless control and having his way..he was a changed man. Who was fucking with a grown woman!

[ataraxiaspainting]

Icarus.

Yan (Emperor) Zhongli x F Reader.

Synopsis: You were taught ever since you opened your eyes to never go against your god. So why do you wish now that you have never opened them at all?

Warnings: Yandere themes, major power imbalances, manipulation, future forced marriage, some violence/gore, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 3k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Little Dark Age by MGMT

As the World Caves In by Matt Maltese

The Other Side Of Paradise by Glass Animals

All Eyes On Me by Bo Burnham

Space Song by Beach House

Murders by Miracle Musical

Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives

Teacher’s Pet by Melanie Martinez

A Pearl by Mitski

Isabella’s Lullaby by Takahiro Obata

*~*~*~*

“‘You know that I love you.’ And despite herself, Coraline nodded. It was true. The other mother loved her. But she loved Coraline as a miser loves money, or a dragon loves its gold. In the other mother's button eyes, Coraline knew that the other mother loved her as a possession, nothing more, a tolerated pet whose behavior was no longer amusing.” – Neil Gaiman, Coraline

*~*~*~*

There is no sin greater than to be a bird.

To be a bird is to be devoid of all burdens, soaring above all who are shackled by them, like a warden overseeing prisoners, or the sweetest and ripest peaches up on the highest of branches so no one can reach it. They can go anywhere, birds, with the winds at their call, the very embodiment of freedom itself, something your god has taught all his people to be wary of. Freedom can be a blessing, he told one of his counselors once, but it can also cause humans to be too conceited. There is no sin greater than to be a bird because all others will be envious. Envy is also a sin, one so common that even Archons are said to possess it. Sin gives birth to more sin, more suffering, and thus only the original that birthed it all shall be punished by Celestia’s fury. 

There is no greater sin than to be a bird, so the gods put in place cages, made to make those trapped by gold and chains and other things entirely. Birds who are not lured into such traps are dealt with by lightning, making them fall back down to the ground below, the last thing they see is the very sky that punished them. The sky, the stars, the moon, the sun… the entire world will be against you when you are a bird.

It will be that way until you die. The world hates birds and the way they fly and soar. Birds are meant for cages, or to be struck down with their corpses made into trophies.

There is no title greater than to be a hunter.

The sin; to be a bird, freedom… the title; to be a hunter, despotism.

To shoot, to stab, to twist until the prey bursts, is the way of someone whose greatest sin is doing good for this world.

To bleed, to be trapped, to be killed and put on display for all to see, that is what a bird’s purpose truly is, in the eyes of the divine.

They are different, quite so, like different ripples in lakes of mixed blood and water.

You can almost hear them, can’t you?

Celestia favors the strong. Celestia despises the weak. It makes sense to most people, those who were born into power be it money made from blood or strength made from blood. They don’t see the way the world works. The way flies feast upon rotting meat and are soon to be eaten by something bigger. It makes sense for most people, but not for you. Despite everything you have ever been taught from word of mouth, life on the streets teaches you otherwise. For everything you have endured, you have learned that you are not weak. In any case, quite the opposite.

You don’t pray anymore with everyone else, as they keep reciting such things over and over again at the states positioned throughout Liyue as if the emperor would listen to them. 

“O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!” They would hold hands with their bodies being placed in circles around the sculptures. They close their eyes altogether, to not see the sacrifices trapped between them at the monuments, the last thing they see is the Lord of Geo’s face, looking down at them with a stone-cold glare laced with eerie delight. “O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all! O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!”

To be praying and to be preying are two quite different things, but to the people of Liyue, there is no difference. Blood seeps into the earth all the same, regardless of who sheds it. So, as evidence that the people of Liyue do indeed bow down to Celestia’s every whim, they bring birds of all kinds and steal them of all they have. Their feathers make for excellent clothing, their bones make for stellar weaponry, and their feet make for charms of good luck. Celestia only smiles down upon the strong, after all. Celestia despises freedom because, without the divine, humans would have nothing to leash them onto rationality and laws. Perhaps that is why Mondstadt is very much in chaos now. Their god was said to have betrayed Celestia by giving his people forbidden knowledge of how nature originally ran its course, causing an uproar among the citizens. 

No one knows what happened to the god of Mondstadt after that.

Was he smitten down? Did his people turn on him? No one in Liyue knows for certain, as people of Mondstadt are forbidden from entering the land said to be made up of the purest of gold.

“O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!”

That is the first thing you hear when you wake up, huddled in a corner to prevent yourself from getting even more wet from the rain. You assume that maybe it will be the last thing you hear when you close your eyes for good.

*~*~*~*

You grew up in Qiaoying Village and, once you grew up, got exiled from Qiaoying Village. You stood out, which no one saw in a good light. You were a mischievous, rule-breaking child, always stealing Jadevein Tea Eggs and both tea and tea sets made of fine porcelain. Your older brother taught you lessons far too valuable and unique for the traditionalist settings of Qiaoying Village, lessons like how to pick the elderly’s door’s locks, how to properly identify which pockets had the most Mora, and how to make alleyways a labyrinth for those who chase you.

Your older brother, though, did not partake in thievery himself. You suppose that might have been the first warning sign of many more to come. He made you, a child about half his age, do his dirty work for him. He always hoarded the rewards afterward, and if you got caught or he got caught with whatever treasure you had given him, he would pretend to scold you for going against the way of the Qiaoying. He said it was just pretend, but that look in his eyes still haunts you to this very day. As you got older, though, you got dumber. You crossed a line with everyone. You decided to steal from a Fontainian duke.

It was a foolish decision. Fontainians are known for their high sense of justice, and their tunnel vision when it comes to crimes and punishments. But you were just a child, were you not?

You couldn’t help it. You were just a child. That is what you told yourself then, and it is what you tell yourself now.

No one helped you then, and no one helps you now. Hell, it would be a miracle, a blessing from Celestia, if your older brother came to Liyue Harbor to visit you. But he never loved you, did he? He never loved you, and you never hated him until you saw him for what he truly is. A petty servant of Madam Mei with a spine thinner than that of a twig. He was a coward then, and likely still a coward now. Perhaps it would have been noble of him, while you were still an infant, to use that pocket knife he always carried around. It would have been better for you, for you to not know anything you know about him now. 

But he was a coward, your older brother. The person who taught you everything about thievery is also now the person who taught you how important it is to keep your cards close. Life on the streets calls for both, you suppose. Liyue Harbor may not be the friendliest for the homeless, but at the very least it had pockets to swipe into when no one was looking. Old habits die hard. You ended up relying on every memory of the past, no matter how bitter or how deceivingly sweet they were. You bore it. You bore it all. Every memory, every fragment of a lie, and every fragment of a half-truth. Life is never so simple after all, is it?

Your life was never perfect, and therefore still is not now. But you know deep in your heart that you would prefer this life over seeing your older brother’s face ever again.

But now, with eyes brighter than amber staring above you as you lay, your arm broken, you wish that your brother had taught you some fighting skills instead of everything else he taught you.

But he was a coward, and so are you.

To be fair, though, he never met the emperor and never thought that he would. So did you. No one in Qiaoying Village did, most likely. It was so far from the proclaimed harbor made of gold and trader’s blood and prayers. This was where the emperor lived, in his castle in the mountains surrounding Lingju Pass and Mount Tianheng. It was made up of the finest gold and wood and jewels. Only the best for the emperor, while people like you get mere pebbles. That is why, when you saw yet another stranger in a white cloak roaming around the alleyways, you attempted to strike. Your mistake.

Your mistake.

You were on the ground in an instant, your arm breaking so loudly an elderly man on his deathbed could hear it. 

The stranger’s eyes glittered like gold.

Frozen gold, perhaps, with how he was staring down at you with such disappointment.

So, he stared down at you.

You stared down at your arm.

You should have known better. But you are just someone trying to live, are you not? It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. But that white cloak the man is wearing with the sigil of geo on the back, one of the few symbols of the emperor himself, should have made you not attempt to pickpocket him. You should have known better. You really should have known better. Should you apologize? You are already as good as dead though, aren’t you?

Does a death sentence await you?

Life? Death? Prison? Life. Death. Prison.

Escape.

You have to escape.

But the emperor seems to know what you are doing, what you are planning.

So he stops you with a simple hand raised, and pillars of geo appear out of nowhere, trapping you in the corner. Now there is nowhere to run.

He stares down at you.

You stare down at your feet, all mangled up from a life made of thievery and poverty.

He doesn’t speak. Neither do you. You prefer it that way.

You are in a cage. But he is not.

Please.

Please don’t kill me. 

Please.

*~*~*~*

Is it a sin to indulge? Perhaps it is, perhaps it is not. Perhaps it depends. Is the indulgence centered in reality or fantasy? This escape attempt, perhaps, is both.

Like the many that came before it, the only sounds you can hear is the rain, the water falling from the glass windows like teardrops, and sometimes you can swear you hear the sound of someone weeping. Despite everything you have gone through though, you do not weep with them, whoever they are. You only keep stepping on ahead for a brighter future, one where you sneak off to Sumeru, a land that prioritizes knowledge over riches. You’d have a better life there than here, you think. Anywhere but here you would run off to actually, even if it was Snezhnaya. 

You are treated well, too well.

You still don’t know why instead of throwing you in the dungeons, Morax placed your unconscious body in one of the many, many guest rooms that were spread about in his castle.

You are treated far too well, almost to the point that it is maddening. Everything is so perfect, from the morning birds outside your window that wake you up every morning when it just so happens to be time for breakfast to the hairbrush you use to put your hair up when it is time to sleep, the design intricately laced with jade and topaz. Perfect, perfect, perfect. It’s maddening, sickening, how perfect everything is. You wish he had just put you in a cell because at least then everything would not have been so planned out for you, even the type of flowers you saw in the gardens that week. 

“Damn it all…”

In your opinion, the clothes you received today were more intricate than usual. The sleeves are puffed and transition from white to a deep teal color. The dress itself showcases delicate lace patterns of glaze lilies around the waist and wrists, while the skirt is impractically long for any running. Strangely, the inside of the skirt features a constellation pattern, though it seems to be a design meant for your eyes alone. The purpose of this starry sky motif remains unclear. The dress, like everything else, appears flawless and fits you perfectly, almost as if it was tailored specifically for you. Given Morax's wealth, you can't help but entertain the possibility. However, the overwhelming perfection of it all borders on madness. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect, so damn perfect. 

Today, you were not given shoes, presumably due to the rain and the consequent cancellation of your garden visit with Morax, where you typically indulge in tea and wine. As you approached the staircase leading to the dining room, however, the guards obstructed your path. Their actions were gentle, but their words were not. They formed a human barricade, preventing your descent. One guard clicked their tongue disapprovingly, while the other remained silent. Perhaps they harbored some disdain towards you. The servants in this establishment either treated you with utmost care or completely disregarded your presence, so it was not entirely surprising that the guards displayed a semblance of dislike.

The real surprise was you not being allowed to go to the dining room to eat.

“The emperor wants you to stay in your room for the time being. He shall see you shortly there.”

So, you went back, albeit muttering curses along the way. Due to your lack of shoes and the guards not even allowing you to go downstairs, this escape attempt is as short-lived as a moth flying much too close to a flame.

As you were told, Morax came in his usual attire, black and brown robes with a geo sigil on the back. 

“...”

“I have been told that you have been getting a bit too curious with your wandering.”

Ah, straight to the point, it would seem. 

There is no point trying to beat around the bush when it comes to Morax. “It is not like there is anything else to do here.”

He sits beside you on the bed, not too close but not too far either. A perfect balance. “I can give you other activities to do if you would like. I can also answer some questions you have since you’ll be living here from now on.”

“...This isn’t temporary…” You look down at the arm he broke, a time which feels like a millennium ago. “Am I being charged?” Your question is quietly said. “Aren’t thieves simply sent to cells for a few moons?”

His chuckle was unexpected, causing a slight surprise. Morax, who was typically expressionless, wore a smile on his face. Despite the possibly good intentions behind it, the sight and sound were unsettling and made your skin crawl.

“...You don’t tell me anything.” You whisper under your breath. That much is clear. Despite Morax's little attempts to conceal it, his secrecy is unmistakable. You can't help but feel like a naive child stating the obvious.

“You are here for multiple reasons. For instance… you remind me of someone. As such, you must have questions, if you are anything like her.” His eyes glaze over you, from the top of your head where your hair is half put up with a hairpin to the anklet just hovering over your right foot. “All humans are born with an innate sense to pry. I won’t judge, as I am an Archon.” Are his words heartfelt? “Through my veins flow gold, but yours flow with sanguine, life, and desires.” 

His hand reaches forward, but he does not touch you. “You must see yourself as better than us because of this. Am I correct?”

“My feelings are not as monochrome as they seem to you. They are complex, quite so. But you are right, in some regard.”

“This is why I cannot stand the so-called divine.”

“Another reason as to why you are here. You are a sleeper of such, and I intend to help you open your eyes to the truth.”

You look at his eyes, seeing all the horrors within their depths.

The emperor known as Morax possesses eyes of pure gold, along with attractive features and pale, rosy lips that curl into a sickly sweet smile. Your body instinctively reacts, urging you to flee before your mind can fully comprehend the situation. However, your brain, awakening and analyzing the situation, is interrupted by the overpowering force of instinct, echoing the same warning as your body: the charming smile is a mere facade, reminiscent of something unsettlingly artificial. It is akin to a sculpture with painted skin and eyes or a doll with exaggerated, intricate features. This man, with his literal golden eyes, his potentially persuasive words, and his captivating yet unnerving countenance, is someone you cannot trust.

Desperate to escape, you attempt to run, only to find that arms and hands, seemingly made of stone, emerge from the walls, gripping and restraining your own. Two of these strong hands ascend, slithering towards the center of your back, forcefully pushing you down into a bow, while you remain compelled to gaze upwards. Your focus remains fixated solely on the emperor's eyes, observing the eloquent patterns of gold within them.

The caress of their touch is tender upon your cheeks, unlike solid ones that demand for you to stay.

“You shall become my consort and see the gates of Celestia for yourself. Humans are made to worship, after all. The divine are made to simply awaken those who have strayed off the path of destiny.”

*~*~*~*

To possess the gift of sight, encompassing all, is the gravest transgression one can commit. Thus, those winged creatures who lack this awareness are banished to the depths of the earth, their vision, their literal eyes stripped away until their cries reverberate to the surface, where the emperor Morax shall pronounce the ultimate verdict.