#d) end up with me dying at the bar

[nice-bright-colors]

How’s this for a stress dream:

I was back working in an architectural office setting. However, we weren’t using computers, it was back to manual drafting on tables.

I had a project deadline approaching in the next 36 hours. I had yet to start drafting any of the plans. The project was for a 15-story mixed-used building with a below grade parking garage.

I was the only person available to work on this project.

Coffee and cocaine became my closest companions.

[not-neverland06]

n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)

(one chance please, just one chance with him)

“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”

Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress. 

You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other. 

At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since. 

Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn. 

You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer. 

You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face. 

It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy. 

But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…

You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face. 

Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound. 

Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”

“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.” 

You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel. 

There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now. 

The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan. 

You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar. 

Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense. 

Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her. 

Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be. 

You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out. 

It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer. 

“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here. 

Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”

“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”

“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt. 

You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”

You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?

So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit. 

You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers. 

Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom. 

Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar. 

“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”

Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.” 

It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that. 

Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him. 

Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.

Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”

Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”

You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all. 

Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations. 

It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice. 

You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title. 

Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.

Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break. 

That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.

You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar. 

He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you. 

He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?

You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind. 

You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish. 

You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across. 

You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now. 

You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him. 

“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”

He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question. 

It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone. 

There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”

The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word. 

You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.

He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”

You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you. 

You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel. 

You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you. 

You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name. 

You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside. 

You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles. 

It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream. 

Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion. 

“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away. 

You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force. 

“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window. 

“That tree was a hundred years old.”

You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise. 

“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation. 

There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown. 

“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”

“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it. 

You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”

The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout. 

“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid. 

“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”

“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?” 

You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”

He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”

You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him. 

There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed. 

Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you. 

Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry. 

Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands. 

Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy. 

But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore. 

There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry. 

“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess. 

“You look like shit.” 

Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands. 

“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”

“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath. 

“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears. 

“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all. 

“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”

Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head. 

You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah. 

This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now. 

“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything. 

You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night. 

“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her. 

It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you. 

That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you. 

It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit. 

But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions. 

He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree. 

Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place. 

He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside. 

He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”

“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.

Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”

That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that. 

You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again. 

But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day. 

He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?

He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together. 

He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head. 

He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off. 

But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now. 

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.

“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.” 

Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it. 

She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”

Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem. 

A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs. 

Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you. 

Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes. 

Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.

Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.

You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out. 

Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is. 

“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench. 

You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”

He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan. 

Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in. 

He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other. 

You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan. 

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit. 

You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead. 

You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”

He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”

You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him. 

“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head. 

He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this. 

But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him. 

He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out. 

“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care. 

You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic. 

Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him. 

Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face. 

You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic. 

You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care. 

One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back. 

He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care. 

You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. 

He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building. 

You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat. 

You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out. 

It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over. 

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him. 

His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go. 

Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you. 

You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”

Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”

You glare over your shoulder at him  “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you. 

Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge. 

The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing. 

You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss. 

He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place. 

You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy. 

But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for. 

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered. 

“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”

You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”

“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other. 

You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back. 

But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.

You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.  

It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 

You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings. 

And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”

He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” 

You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it. 

A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Missed You | Bucky x Reader | Mutually Beneficial AU | Drabble

You and Bucky have been dying for some alone time and there's a new thing he wants to try.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, dom!Bucky, dirty talk, pet names & honourifics, daddy kink, oral sex, p in v, creampie, fingering, praise kink, bondage, spreader bar. S for smut and D for Daddy.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Mutually Beneficial Masterlist

Bucky held the flat silver tag between his metal thumb and forefinger, leading you towards your room as he stepped backwards.

"Missed you, Babydoll" he hushed.

"I've been right here, Sarge," you were aiming for even and controlled, but the way he leads you so gently, his dark eyes, you're already under his spell so your words are followed by a breathy gasp.

"No, you weren't, not really. And neither was I." He was right. It'd been such a long week. A mission gone horribly wrong led to an Agent in Bucky's squad getting shot. Not fatally, they were currently milking their wounded soldier status across the compound. But the guilt of it was burning through him. Between his mission, your reports, briefings and a mission of your own you hadn't had any time to be truly together.

"I know, Sarge. But I'm here now, whatever you want from me, I'm here," and you meant it. His need for some semblance of order, of control, to bring joy and not pain, you would always give that to him if he could. You leaned up, nudging your nose with this, planting a light kiss against his lips.

"Do you trust me?" He cooed, so close you could almost taste the sharp coldness of his minty toothpaste.

"Yes, Sarge," you can't help how quiet you become with him, barely a whisper.

"Good. Climb on the bed, Baby. Clothes off." You scramble onto your back, shedding your clothes in a pile on the floor. Eagerly you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him watch you back, blue eyes blown dark.

He steps forwards slowly and reaches under the bed, pulling out a metal pole.

"I saw this, do you wanna play?" He holds it up in the dim light. Black metal with a soft cuff at either end.

"A spreader bar?" You thought you were wet before but this is nothing. Bucky researching on his own, buying sex toys while he thinks of you gives you such a rush you can barely contain yourself.

"God, yes, please!" You lay back again, legs spread waiting for him. Gently he cuffs one leg then the other, there's a little movement when you wiggle your ankle but you can't move your legs together or apart. Bucky looks down at you hungrily, watching as you test the limits of your bondage.

His hands danced up your legs, featherlight, "you look good like this, Babydoll, all spread out for me." His thumbs ran over you, teasing your drenched folds. Apart, a tentative swipe, and then together again. The ache worse than before, "you look beautiful. All mine. And you'll do as you're told, won't you, because you're a good girl." He tapped lightly with one finger against your clit illiciting a wanton desperate moan.

"I asked you a question, you'll be my good girl, won't you?" He tapped again, harder. You're not sure you've ever fallen so fast into subspace. You struggled for words, your brain fighting for coherent thoughts.

"Answer me, Babydoll, or have I got you wrong. Are you a bad girl after all?" He slapped the inside of your thigh, the damp of your own slick making it sting harder.

"I'll be good, Daddy," it slipped out before you could stop yourself but you're still reeling from his hands on you, too gone to notice.

"What did you call me?" He sat back, his patented stare in full effect, bringing you slowly back into the light.

"I'm sorry, Sarge, what did I say?" Heat suffused your cheeks, burning your skin.

"You called me Daddy." Bucky's voice was a low, rough growl that had your knees bending in.

It's not a word you'd used before with Bucky, once or twice with other partners and certainly in the porn you watch. But you haven't talked about it. This wasn't in your negotiations. Your blood runs cold and that single coherent thought that struggled so hard before floats to the surface 'you've ruined everything'.

"Sorry, Daddy, I mean, I said Daddy, sorry, Daddy, I mean Sarge, Daddy, Sir. Sorry."

Bucky smirked and licked his bottom lip before taking it between his teeth briefly.

"Are you angry, don't be angry, Daddy, Sarge, Sir, sorry. I, I can't think. I - please. Just punish me, I'm sorry. I-" he let's his lip drop, licking over the bite mark again. He knew exactly what that did to you, how it made you feel hot all over.

"You're not in trouble" His hand was gentle as it skimmed your cheek. "Didn't know you'd like that. Didn't know I liked that" His thumb rubbed over your lip, and you took the opportunity to lick the pad, pulling the digit into your mouth. Vibranium doesn't really taste of anything, but the action was soothing, a hint of your own arousal lingering.

"You keep calling me that, Baby, and you can have anything you want. Okay?" He popped his thumb out of your mouth and trailed it around your nipple before giving the nub a little tweak.

You squeaked in surprise, "Yes, Daddy," and he groaned back.

"I think it's been long enough. I need to feel you, Baby, you be good and still for me, okay." He tugged the bar between your legs, pulling you further down the bed before carefully flipping you over, ass in the air and face pressed into the blankets.

"Yes, Daddy," you chanted again and Bucky was glad you couldn't see him, pressing his own face into the curve of your spine to hide his grin.

"Good girl," he pushed in as his praise made you flutter, griping your hips as he set a slow, firm pace, pressing against the soft secret spot inside that makes you see stars. His pace wasn't fast but Bucky was always relentless, no space to think, just him and you and the way he makes you feel.

"Feels good, I missed you so much, I needed this." You moaned out, whining before you could stop the pathetic noise from escaping. You were back to black, nothing but the feel of Bucky inside you, his hands on your body. He roamed further, pressing gently and tweaking at your clit, hard and aching under you. You rutted back trying to get some control to push you over the edge he had you dangling over.

"No, no, Babydoll, be a good girl." He grabbed the bar and slowly pushed it further up the bed, forcing your knees closer to your chest and bending you almost in half, "you can be good for me, right? All I need you to do is stay there," he punctuated his command with a slap to your ass, but you were already nodding your head as hard as you could, your hand under your forehead to keep you upright, "I knew you could be good for Daddy."

That did it, hearing him say it back was too much, electricity coiled up from your toes, a shock of lighting up your spine as you spasm and clutch at him however you can.

"Daddy!" You mewled as you came, your hand reaching back for his, fingers closing around your wrist and holding it down against the bed as he lost control, hips stuttering, bruising against your back. You both fell forward into the mattress as he filled you, deep and hot, painting ever inch of you.

"Jesus, fuck, baby," his nose rubbed against your back, hot kisses running down your spine, keeping you spread out, hands above your head.

The cuffs left your ankles but you stayed prone on the bed anyway, only turning enough to smile back at Bucky, his hair sticking up with sweat. You followed a droplet down his chest, gulping when you noticed he's still half hard.

"Let's take a minute," he kissed each ankle while he helped you turn onto your back, wrapping each leg around his waist and holding you against him as you come down from your high. "Oh baby, don't wanna waste anything," he chided, lifting your hips a little higher, leaning forwards and sliding a hand over you where his cum seeps down your leg. Two fingers swiped through it and meet your lips encouraging you to suck. His other hand palmed his seed back into you, fucking two fingers in and out slowly, gently curling and pulling another surprising orgasm past your lips. Silent and begging you gasp and writhe beneath him, too tired and fucked out to do more than take the pleasure he was giving you.

His kisses were back then, fluttering over your temple and your ear.

"Beautiful, Babydoll, beautiful," is the last thing you heared, floating into sleepy bliss.

"Thank you, Daddy."

[phyrestartr]

Man of Worship (P.1) | Zagreus x M!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

w/c: 2.3k #NSFW themes, demigod reader, eventual polyamory, traumatic past, healing from trauma, mentions of dub-con, mentions of suicide, hurt/comfort, boys being boys, toxic parents, olympic gods doing typical olympic god bs

Note: SO this is basically a rework of Rhubarb, even though I still want to pursue the rest of Rhubarb with that particular reader character, HOWEVER I generally make two or three versions of the same story while I'm brainstorming, and I ended up digging into more Greek mythos while looking for inspo and BOOM.

ANYWAY I didn't tag for this since it's a new fandom I'm writing for, but if you'd like to be tagged, pls feel free to leave a comment!! I'll update my tag form thing in a moment too :D I hope this is a fun read!!

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1. A Gardener?

He noticed first the flutter of feathered wings. It was an odd thing to hear in the underworld, and even odder still to hear it come from the outer gardens–the place poor, pitiful Zagreus was barred from. 

Father won't tell me anything of this. And that was true--Hades was anything but straightforward and honest with his son. So, to the real parent of the house was where the prince went.

“Erm, Nyx?” Zagreus asked, shooting glances back at the iron gates as he met his mother-figure. “I've got a question for you, if you don't mind.”

“I do not mind. I will do my best to answer, my child.” She watched him with eased attention, then followed his gaze to the forbidden outdoors. “Is something the matter?” 

“No–well, maybe? Not sure, but. Well.” Zagreus rubbed the back of his neck. “Just–are there birds out in the garden?” 

Nyx blinked. “Birds?” 

“Yes. I keep hearing something fluttering around every now and then, and I swear I've seen something moving around in the garden. You know, the one I'm not allowed to enter?” 

“Ah.” The goddess nodded. “Of course. There is a new servant of the house, one who was chosen to tend to the gardens.”  

“Really.” Zagreus planted his hands on his hips and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, gaze returning to the forbidden area. “Well, that's the first I've heard of it.” 

“He does not linger long; he arrives with the sun, and leaves only when the work is done,” Nyx explained. “He is a diligent helper of the House. Your father is quite pleased, I've noticed.” 

“Well, I've never thought that Father could be pleased in any regards.” Zagreus’ mismatched gaze flickered back to Nyx. “But why now? The garden's never needed a tender before.”

“A flower wilted,” Nyx sighed, looking aside. “And your father has grown concerned.”

“Hah. Concerned for the plants? Good to know he can still give a damn about something,” Zagreus bit, sending a scalding glare to the throne. “Guess that's why he locked it up, kept it from me.”

Night smiled, sympathetic. “You do have a reputation.”

“One that I must uphold,” he agreed, heart light and spirit lifted higher. “Thank you, Nyx. I should get back to ransacking my father's domain.”

Nyx nodded sagely and reached a hand up, fixing the tilt of Zagreus’ burning laurel. “I would hope for nothing less, my child.” 

–

“You play music?” 

Your voice startled Zagreus, sending a Zeus-like jolt through him and holding him in place with a fit of numbing static. Thankfully, however, twas not the true bite of the sky king, and Zagreus had the luxury to back out of his room a few paces. 

“You heard?” He asked, face somehow both paling and burning in tandem.

You, whilst leaning against the iron gate, nodded. “‘N if I did?”

“Oh.” Zagreus rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “That's unfortunate. Sorry for the bother.”

“Don't misunderstand me, god.” Your spectral eyes bore into him with easy confidence. Zagreus quite liked that look. “You played much like a dying pigeon at first, I'll admit, but you've improved.” 

Zagreus laughed and approached you. Your dry informality pricked him with intrigue. “Well, now I know you're lying.”

“Lies are useless for those who need the truth.” Your words came so bold, the prince had no choice but to believe you. “I can hear it. The notes–they come easier to you. Sweeter, even. Like figs ripe on the tree.” 

“Figs?” Zagreus tilted his head much like Cerberus might. “Huh. Can't say I've had one of those.” 

“Really? Well, then I shall see to it that you wonder no longer, god.” You leaned away, nearly out of sight of the iron-barred gateway, and jostled through the leaves of a bush or tree of sorts before the sharp snap of something announced your return. 

You stuck your arm through a gap in the fence, one where your glowing skin was threatened by a cascade of decorative thorns, but you didn't much care. That care, instead, found itself funneled into the deliverance of a ripe fig to the prince of the underworld, it seemed. 

Zagreus stared for a moment. He wasn't used to receiving gifts unless he bestowed one upon another, first. To him, this almost felt like–could it be--

“If you don't take it in the next three seconds, I'm going to eat it myself and not hand you another,” you groused.

“Hah.” He snatched the fruit from your hand. “You wouldn't dare.” 

“I've dared much worse, god, believe me.” You withdrew your hand and drummed your palms against the iron. “Well, enjoy. And be sure to clean your hands before touching that lyre again.” You looked him over, face placid as it'd been for his entire short history knowing you–but your eyes, the strange things, they hinted at hidden curiosities. “I'll be listening.” 

–

“Say, Meg, do you know much about the new House attendant?” Zagreus asked, flourishing his Stygian blade as he walked towards the Fury, prepared to fight after a quick chat.

Megaera's eyes narrowed. “You're talking about the flirt.”

“The flirt?” Zagreus rested his sword down, digging its diamond tip into the cracked ground. “Is that really what he's known for? Flirting? He doesn't seem like the type.”

A heavy sigh left Meg. “Ask Than. He might be more willing to endure your rambling and answer questions. I am not.” 

“You know, I think we really need to work on your patience.” Still, he flicked up his blade of the underworld, and lunged first. 

–

As the Fates would have it, Thanatos was already at the House. Even more fateful, still, was where he stood–not by the river Styx, no, but by the garden’s gate for a change. Death's presence on that side of the house seemed…odd, despite his infrequent visits to the lounge. Never before did he show interest in a coworker, neither, not unless it was his twin who needed some firm and stringent guidance. 

“Admiring the flowers?” Zagreus asked, and Death flinched. 

“No, I–” He sighed, and spared a look over his shoulder. “What do you want, Zagreus?” 

The shorter one shrugged, and stood beside his age-old friend. “Came to find you. Is that so odd?” 

“If you're going to shove more nectar in my hands, then you can forget it.” Thanatos looked away again and scowled beyond iron bars. “You've made your bed.”

Zagreus stifled a sigh, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I–well–in all honesty, I had a question, one that I'd hoped you could answer.”

“Then ask.”

“Right to the point then.” Zagreus cleared his throat and shuffled closer to Death. “Who exactly is the new gardener? Meg said you might know.” 

Thanatos graced him with a wide-eyed stare. “I thought you'd know by now.”

Zagreus shrugged. “I wouldn't be asking if I knew.” 

“He is–” Death paused, his jaw tightening, tendons threatening to snap. “Why do you want to know?”

Zagreus convinced himself not to pry. “We haven't had a new servant of the House in, well, eternities. Father wouldn't allow just anyone in here.” 

“Sure, but don't you think you should ask him yourself?”

“It's hard to catch him. He's quite flighty, as Fate would have it. Must be the wings.” 

“Must be.” Zagreus swore he heard the inkling of a smile on those words. “Well, I don't think it's fair for me to spoil the introduction. But I will say this–he was a servant of the House in life, and now continues on in death.” 

“Really?” Zagreus couldn't quite wrap his head around it. How could someone be devoted to the house before even arriving?

“Yes. He made my job easier, in some regards. Assisted, at the very least,” Death said.

“Huh.” Zagreus crossed his arms and scuffed his sole against time-worn stone. “Guess that explains that. I don't suppose you'd be willing to go into elaborate detail regarding what exactly our avian gardener did in life to earn yours and Father's favour? Or, even just his name?” 

“No.” A luminous wash of turquoise licked off Death's shoulders, his scythe. “Ask him yourself. I've work to do.”

And with the toll of a bell, he was gone. 

–

It took a while to catch you again. Apparently, you kept to a strict, self-imposed schedule that Zagreus couldn't even begin to understand despite its simplicity. Nyx told him you arrived come morning, at the very least. That may have been helpful, if Zagreus could tell the damn time in the underworld. 

So, he resorted to guessing; if he could not find you through the convenience of your daily routine, he'd swing by whenever he died. He was bound to run into you at some point. 

And he did. It was when he wandered to the lounge, eager to deliver a wealth of fish to the head chef, that he caught the ghostly sound of feathers against leaves.

Zagreus backed out of the lounge in time to see your curious glance. A rush pulsed through him–finally, finally, he'd get his chance to interrogate you.

“Hey!” He called. 

“Hey,” You called back. 

“Just--don’t go anywhere. I need to hand over some river denizens and then I need to speak with you,” Zagreus rambled off as quickly as he could. 

Your brows furrowed, but you offered a shallow nod. “I'll wait up.”

With that, Zagreus sped by the gossiping Meg and Dusa and a gaggle of other patrons to all but throw his catch to the head chef. It was a good haul today. Hopefully that meant–ah ha. 

Zagreus rolled the bottle of nectar over in his hands. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he sang, and ran off, tucking the gift away before approaching the iron bars.

You were toiling away, a little farther in the garden than before, but not too far to escape the prince's presence. It gave him a chance to take a good look at you: simple black chiton on a well-muscled frame, wings full of bronze feathers, wild hair tied back into the smallest of ponytails. You looked quite ordinary, save for the wings. 

But your eyes had been strange: they glowed. Not with the morose cold of Ixion, but with the exact opposite. Warm. Bronze. Sunlit, maybe. He'd never known sunlight, but you must have kept a drop of it in your very soul.

“So?” You said as you meandered back to him. You walked with unbothered confidence, much different to Zagreus’ sprightly impatience. “What important matters must we discuss?”

“Your name, first of all,” the prince requested. “I am Zagreus, son of Hades and--"

“Prince of the underworld,” you added. “Well, I figured you were him. Good to have a proper introduction, I suppose.” You took a breath. “As for me, you'll call me (Name).” 

Zagreus repeated the name. It held a fullness in his mouth, something sweet and foreign, too much like the fig you'd offered him not too long ago. Maybe you were the minor god of figs (wouldn't that be something?).

“Pleased to meet you, then. I trust the garden will be well-kept in your capable hands. And wings,” Zag said. “Oh! And, ah, here--a token of thanks for your hard work.”

Your brows raised and Zagreus’ chest filled with hope; for once, your blank mask changed, and you looked less like a gorgon-born statue and more like a human. Somehow, it gave him relief.

But your expression crumpled into furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. “Nectar?” You wondered aloud. 

Zagreus nodded and slipped the bottle best he could through the gap. “Yes, I…I hope you will take it, if it pleases you.”

You examined the bottle as it slipped into your hand and leaned a shoulder up against the gate. “Odd. Why is it in the underworld?”

The tension left Zagreus’ muscles as you accepted the gift. “Not a clue. Maybe Olympus ferries some down here from time to time to try and liven things up.”

“Hah.” The mock laughter almost sounded genuine. “Dionysus would, from what I've heard of him.” You held the bottle up, watching the light reflect shards of gold and ghostly greens. “He's not so bad, that god of wine.” 

“You've met him?” Zagreus wondered.

“No,” you admitted. Your light-filled eyes found him again. “But I've met gods, when I once lived. No man should have to meet them. They bring misfortune, even the supposed good ones.” 

The prince took a sure step forward, and your eyes steeled. “Well, you're right about Dionysus,” he assured instead of scorned. “He's good. I'm sure he's had his moments, still. But I get on with him well.” I'm sure you would, too, he decided against saying; the more he took in your features, the more he realized the god's work carved into you, painting you unnatural colours and robbing you of something only humans could have. He didn't think you'd much enjoy being forced into a hypothetical with them. 

“Then I shall take your word for it,” you said. “And I will pretend this bottle comes from Dionysus, to make it more palatable.”

“Well, whatever pleases you.” Zagreus smiled and leaned against the wall by the gate. “But, if I may ask, which gods have you–”

“Boy,” Hades’ voice thundered, echoing down the hall. “Do not disturb the rest of the House and distract them from their duties. Unlike you, they do not wish to disappoint.” 

Zagreus clicked his tongue and looked over his shoulder. “Yes, of course, Father. I'll get right to ignoring every blasted person in this damn House. Perhaps I'll consider a life of solitude while I'm at it!” 

“Do not test me further, boy.”

Zagreus rolled his eyes, but gave in, finding your (gentler?) eyes once again. “Well. I'd more than happily argue with my father all day–or night–about this, but I wouldn't want you to bear the punishment.” 

You nodded a little and glanced from the prince back down to the bottle. “I appreciate this, princeling.”

“It's nothing, really.” Though Zagreus did indeed beam with delight. “Well, then I'll leave you to your work.”

“Be sure to come back. I need to return the favour,” you said as you turned. “Until then, princeling.”

[rebelliousstories]

Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine SFW Alphabet

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst

Word Count: 3,684

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Consider donating a TIP or a Kofi: Here

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

Logan is a very solitary guy. He’s much more used to being on his own than with someone in any capacity. That said, I do see him as an “acts of service” kind of man. He definitely is getting you refills on your food and drink at mansion parties, and keeping an eye on the people around you. He’ll carry you to your room after a mission, or make sure that you’re not needing any medical assistance, if you are a part of the gang.

If you’re a normie, he’s holding your heels and carrying you home after a night at the bar even though he warned you not to wear them and to just go with your boots.

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

Sarcastic comments and playful bullying are your first love languages. I mean, people outside the friendship think you hate each other, but that’s only if they don’t look at you closer. He would always find something to tease you about, but he never let it get too mean.

If you’re an X-Men too, I believe that you guys would have been made to go on a solo mission together. You two have never been this close, so you try to pass the time, but it eventually turns into you pushing Logan’s buttons. So he gives it as good as he gets.

A normal person however, a non-mutant, I could see him just meeting you at every given chance. It’s a small town in Canada that he has decided to stay in; there’s one post office, one coffee shop, and only a couple of bars and restaurants. So yeah, he just keeps running into you, and strikes up a little conversation each time.

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

Oh he for sure loves to cuddle. You’re going to look at me and tell me that grumpy kitty with the fluffy hair doesn’t like to cuddle?! Oh nay, nay. This man loves it. A major reason is that he loves to make sure you’re kept happy and comfy. In Logan’s mind, the safest place you could be was in his arms.

Logan would cuddle one of two ways. He would either place you on his chest, fully laying down on him because he would love to feel your weight on him. It’s comforting to the man. Or, he would be on his side, with you in front of him. His back would be to the door, and his arms would be tucked up all around you.

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

This man has proved he wants to settle down. He wants to have his little cabin in the Canadian wilderness, maybe a dog, and you and some littles. Logan would want to retire from being a superhero one day. Even though he could technically live forever, he doesn’t want to spend those days fighting. He craves having a slice of the quiet life, with someone he loves.

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

Cold, quick, and efficient. He would not draw it out, or withdraw from you over time. Logan would either simply leave with only the necessary items while you’re asleep or away. But if you catch him leaving, he would continue barreling towards the door, successfully shaking off your hands. He would not talk more than necessary and would only leave with one final glance before stalking off into the unknown, and away from you.

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

Logan loves fiercely and deeply. Not even death can shake his love for you. He would learn to live with it of course, but he would still proclaim his love for you till his dying breath. He’s a committed man to those who commit to him. To be loved by the Wolverine is a blessing and a bit of a curse. That fierce kind of love always rears it ugly head in a jealous mood if he notices you getting close to someone you shouldn’t. That being said…

If you were a mutant that had a healing factor like him, I think he would want to actually get married. Full on, with a marriage certificate, a suit and gown, and a beautiful ceremony and reception on the lawn of the mansion. Beast definitely officiates the wedding, with Charles rolling with you down the aisle. Scott makes a joke about how Logan should get married in a Canadian tuxedo rather than a traditional one. That doesn’t go over well with the man who is already reigning in his nerves about the whole ordeal. Not about marrying you, but rather the fanfare of it all.

If you do not posses a healing factor in some fashion, whether you’re a mutant who doesn’t have that, or a non-mutant, I feel like he would be hesitant to marry you. Logan wouldn’t want to tie you down to someone that will inevitably outlive you. In fact, he might encourage a break up so that you can find someone to grow old with. But, if you manage to convince him to stay, he would have no hesitation about marrying you. You have a small and intimate affair, from where Logan calls in a favor from an old friend named Charles.

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

He’s the Wolverine. It’s James Logan Howlett. That man is as soft physically as concrete wall. However, he does tend to take a softer hand to you no matter what he is doing. Logan has lived with his own enhanced strength for centuries, but he is still afraid of hurting you. He would always make sure that his hands are soft on your body, and that his claws are nowhere near you.

Now, emotionally, again it’s the Wolverine people. He is a lone wolf, that doesn’t care too much for the rules of society. But, when it is just you two, he’s letting you in on his struggle on reconnecting his past or the innermost struggle of his more animalistic side. Going back to A for Affection, Logan sends you little winks and smirks from across the bar. But his smile, his genuine smile when the two of you are alone; those are what you both cherish.

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

He, for sure, loves to hug you close. He’s just got those big meaty hands, and those equally beefy arms that encompass you and keep you close. It’s a safe form of intimacy for him. Even if his claws were to come out accidentally, he would probably just knick himself. There would be virtually no chance of him getting you caught between them.

Logan tries to hug you whenever he’s home from missions. The first thing he does after getting home and dropping his bags in the foyer of the mansion, is to find you so he can get his hugs that are on back order. It’s something that helps ground him as much as his hugs help to ground you.

Getting a hug from Logan is the physical feeling of putting a fleece blanket hoodie on a bear statue and walking into it. He is always warm, partially because he’s a big burly man and partially because of his mutation, and he’s hairy. So if you hug him without a shirt on, be prepared. Could make a carpet out of that body hair.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

At least six to eight months, but more than likely a year. He’ll know right around the six month mark, but he’s not telling you at first. Logan would assume his acts of service and protection were enough to tell you that. He’s also waiting on you to gage how he feels about saying that word to you. You’ve gotta show him, and possibly tell him, you love him in order for him to reciprocate.

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

Logan really only gets jealous if he notices someone younger and attractive trying to chat you up. A major insecurity of his would be the age gap, and possibly you not living as long as him. If you had no regenerative healing factor, he might just quietly sulk in the corner of the bar as he watches.

If you do, however, he would be downing that beer first, and then moving. Logan’s not stupid enough to leave his drink unattended. Just because he can heal from just about anything, doesn’t mean he wants to. He’s pulling hands away and squaring off to anyone that dares try to get handsy with his girl. And you need to be prepared to calm down the feral Wolverine, and give him some reassurance once you get back to where you guys are staying.

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

As I said, Logan loves fiercely and deeply. His kisses are no exception. He kisses you like it will be the last time he sees you forever. Logan aims to encapsulate you in a kiss, and it works a lot of the time.

He loves your lips, and forehead. Especially if you’re shorter than him. Lips for the obvious reason; it’s close, intimate, and he loves feeling yours against his. Now the forehead, is because that is what he can reach. When you’re tucked into his chest, he wants to be able to kiss you but for whatever reason he can’t, so he goes for your forehead. Also those forehead kisses just bathe you in a warming glow.

Logan loves to be kissed on his throat and knuckles. Now hear me out before you scroll away! His throat, because if you’re shorter than him, it always happens when he’s got you hugged close. So when he’s dropping kisses to your forehead, press a couple to his throat and he’s putty in your hands. As for his knuckles, it’s a dangerous game, but one that is born of a time of deep insecurities. When he is having doubts about himself, his choices, and his past, he likes to sit with you on the couch or bed and hold you. Logan is always worried about having you anywhere near where his claws come out of skin, but the little, feather light kisses you leave, well, they break his resolve just a bit.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

I believe that it depends on the child’s age. If it’s a small baby, like less than two years old, he would be okay as long as he is not the one holding it. However, if you do manage to convince him to hold the infant, he is sitting there with the most scared expression he has ever had.

Kids that are a bit older and can handle their own he’s okay being around. Logan doesn’t mind the younger ones, like are seven or ten, but he tends to just watch them rather than get involved. Teenagers are the youngest he likes to interact with. He’s just not used to being around little ones, and he feels like he’s too old to start now.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Logan are blissfully spent. Whenever he gets the morning off from work or from the X-Men, he loves to spend it doing absolutely nothing. Slow mornings are spent lounging in bed, with nothing on your mind. He loves watching you sleep and be at peace. It’s a peace that he, himself, longs for. Logan enjoys being able to have slow mornings as it gives him a taste of a life he craves.

N = Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Evenings depend on how that day has been. If the day goes good, then you can expect a nice slow evening, with cuddles and kisses. Maybe falling asleep to an old black and white film on the tv, with you perched of his chest.

Now if he had a bad day, oh Lordy. Logan is going to be non-verbal and totally unwilling to be near you. For your own sake, he wants to keep a distance from you. He doesn’t want to hurt you physically or emotionally. Eventually, Logan will come to bed, but he does it after you have gone to sleep, because he just doesn’t want to deal with any questions. Not until the next day.

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

Logan would not be open to you at all. He’s a very closed off man that doesn’t let just anyone in. It would definitely come in stages. He would tell you what he could remember about his past over several months to years. And as he uncovers more of his past, Logan will come to terms with it before he ever tells you. He’s also a man of few words, so it will probably take him a while just to put it into words to tell you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

I don’t think he gets angered easily so much as annoyed. It genuinely takes a lot to get him angered. And most of the time, he’s playfully annoyed at you. Like if you politely ask him for another drink, he’ll grumble about how you are perfectly capable of getting it yourself. However, getting him mad is something that takes a personal turn. If you attack his abilities, or legitimately degrade him, he’s getting righteously angry. Logan takes any purposeful attacks on him personally. And he knows you could do it after a while of dating, because he will have told you things that will push the right buttons in the right order.

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

Logan remembers everything. Losing his memory is a blessing in disguise, because now he can use that space for you. He truly loves every word you say, even if he doesn’t show it. Logan can often be perceived as disinterested in you whenever you’re talking. But this man got a small notebook to fill with random things you talk about, including your to go orders. There’s a section about favorites like food, color, or move. Another is there about dreams and plans for the future, and even random things.

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

Logan’s favorite memory is one random night in the dead of winter.

He returned home from a mission gone horribly wrong. Scott was pissing him off, Jean kept trying to tempt him into another relationship, and Storm was staying out of it on the flight home. Then, the actual contents of the mission. They had lost their target, gotten wrapped up in another one of the Brotherhood’s schemes, and overall got the snot kicked out of them. The team had enough that day. So getting home was of top priority.

Logan grabbed his bag and stalked off before anyone could get a word in on him. He wanted out of his suit and in his bed as of yesterday. Even he could feel the cold from the snow seeping into the mansion as they ascended. He was in his jeans and his usual jacket, but the boots caused the stairs to creak under his weight. As he came into the room, his heart skipped in his chest, and he leaned against the doorframe.

There you were, snuggled up in the blankets with his flannel wrapped around your body. You were even on his side of the bed with your face smooshed into his pillow. It made him swell with love and pride. But that stands out in his mind, because it was the first time that he had caught you like this. The TV was still on; you were trying to wait up for him. And that meant more than anything in the world. He would never tell you though, that he had caught you like that.

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

I’m sorry, you do realize who we’re talking about right? Wolverine is going to be the most fiercely loyal and protective lover in the world. He will literally sniff out trouble around you, and keep you safe.

If you’re just dealing with someone who won’t take no for an answer at a bar or party, he’s putting a hand on your waist and glaring the person down. If they refuse to back down, he’s getting in their face and using his intimidation to make them. After that, claws are coming out, bub.

Now, on missions it’s a different story. He knows that you can take care of yourself, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to keep you away from harm. But if Logan sees that you’re getting overwhelmed or in trouble, he’s on his way over as fast as lightning. He is dispatching of the enemy with fierce vengeance.

Logan wouldn’t need nor want you to protect him physically. That’s his job and he will stand by it. However protecting his mind and heart is the only job he wants you to have. By providing him shelter when his own mind betrays him, it protects him during a vulnerable time.

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

Dates really depend. If you’re an X-Man and going on missions, your date nights and anniversaries are at the liberty of whenever you are home from missions. If you’re not, he usually has an easier time of planning things for your dates. Regardless, he will usually plan casual dates nights for the most part. Every once in a while he will take you out on the town for dinner and a movie, or a night of drinking and dancing. But most of the time, he’s just having a dinner prepped or gotten take out, and a movie pulled up on the tv.

Logan loves to silently spoil you. He will never make a huge fuss about gifts he gives you. And they’re always practical in some fashion. He gets you a new coffee mug with your favorite character on it but he’s scratched your name into the bottom so no one can take it. Or a new set of personal defense weapons that won’t trigger metal detectors but still pack a punch.

            Like I said before, his love language is acts of service. You need your car fixed? He’s got it purring like a lambo. You need laundry done? You’ve got new clothes in your dressers, plus some of his flannel and tank tops so you can have his clothes and scents around you. This lovable man will preform mundane tasks without being asks because he wants you to know he loves you.

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

Going cold and silent for no good reason is a big one. It’s so easy for him to revert to his old ways but he does try to work on it. After a long day though, he just wants a beer and a silent, dreamless sleep. So, it’s difficult for him to open up and talk about whatever it is that’s bothering him on a day like this. Thus, leading to the withdrawal.

I feel like another would be his ability to overreact. If Scott asks you to join him on a mission, or even how one went that he wasn’t on, Logan is just about growling at the man. But anyone he views as a threat to you, he’s not liking one bit which tends to lead to the man to growling, snapping, and even the claws coming out.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Logan is not all too concerned with how he looks. He does his hair but that’s about it. Like, other than that, he just genuinely doesn’t care. This is a mutant with the ability to heal near instantly. I can’t reiterate how much he doesn’t care.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

The further you get into your relationship, the more he feels like he can’t live without you. It’s something he gets hit with all at once. It’s part of why he’s so protective over you, even if you have a healing factor. He’s terrified to lose you once he truly loves you deeply within his soul. When he can’t be near you, he’s counting down the minutes till he can remedy that. If he ever lost you, if you died or left him in some other way, there would be nothing left to keep the animal in check.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Logan loves you playing with his hair and pampering him. Does he understand the difference between a physical exfoliant and a chemical one? Absolutely not. But he loves having you use whatever it is on him. When his day is super rough, he’ll stay silent as he lets you lead him face down on the bed. Getting massages on those days are amazing because he swears that your hands can feel what is wrong and get it out. He’s letting you wash his face, put weird creams on him, all the while he’s got a fluffy headband on. And once you’re done with the skincare, the head massage that follows? Oh, he feels the stress of everything wash away. There is nothing that clears the rage and foul feelings better than a little pampering session.

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

I don’t know why, but he strikes me as a texture guy. Not on his skin, but in the food he eats. Like he won’t eat certain foods because they make odd textures in his mouth. He also just likes simple foods, so that could be a reason.

In a partner though, he wouldn’t appreciate someone trying to change him, or that would pry too deep. Let me explain. Logan knows what he is, a rehabilitated animal that tries to do his best. And he doesn’t want anyone else telling him that he isn’t. It’s not a matter of that he can’t shake the image that he spent so long with, but rather that he can still feel it inside his being every time those claws come out.

In that same vein, he doesn’t want someone that asks too many questions that he doesn’t have the answers to nor wants to give. If he wakes up from a nightmare where he uncovers new memories, he’ll decide in time to share that with you. You have to let him go at his own pace otherwise you’ll spook him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

On his back, straight as a board, blankets around his chest, while he’s alone. If you’re spending the night, he’ll either fall asleep with you on his chest with hm on his back, or with his back to the door and on his side with you in his arms. Also, I don’t care what anyone says, this man has the cutest baby snores ever. Sounding like a baby bear in bed and now it’s your own form of white noise. It’s so difficult for you to fall asleep without it.

[vermilionsun]

In my headcanons vere has a little problem with ppl who are driven by lust 🙋🙋 He has a disdain for Leanders "shameless" behaivor and straight up kills mc when they 'give in' in the demo (at least thats how i interpret it)

So i humbly ask for his reaction to an Mc who is just down bad for him in a silly kinda way. No innuendos no sexual comments just tomfoolery from mc, straight up leaning against the bar at the wet wick with a "ya come aroun here often ;D" and they slip and fall or something

i want mc to be down bad pathetic cause IM TOO, full on groveling at his feet (but cutely), the ex that shows up seranating at your door except they are not your ex you never dated them— wait why are they crying about my beauty —

You’re a G E N I U S.

I might need to make a part 2...

Pathetically-down-bad-for-Vere group, assemble!

Disclaimer! They/them for MC because we love inclusivity!

✦ “Jumpy, aren't you?”

The MC scans him up and down once again, eyes wide. “Damn… you come here often?" They wiggle their eyebrows, which earns them an amused chuckle from the Monster.

"Depends. Would you like me to come by more often, pretty one?”

“YES PLEASE–”

✦ When he presents the key to the MC, they proceed to walk towards him, a slightly dazed smile adorning their face. “So, how about I buy you a drink–” The MC proceeds to trip and fall in front of Vere’s feet.

✦ He lets out a breathy laugh before bending forwards to take the MC by the chin.

“Damn, I love that laugh already…:”

“You really should be more careful. City like this, someone might take advantage~”

“Huh... Yeah… whatever you say, beautiful.”

"Oh, eager, are we? You know, compliments like that might just convince me to make this a regular hangout." His ears flick.

✦ “What’s your name? or should I just call you mi–” The MC tries to get up but bumps their head on the small table next to Vere, who is desperately trying to stifle another chuckle.

"Careful, wouldn't want you hurting yourself this early on. Name's Vere. And yours, darling?”

“Your future partner, I hope,” they say, still somewhat dazed.

“Oh, is that so? You're pretty confident,” he comments, his tail swaying behind him, capturing the MC’s attention.

“Fluffy–”

“No.”

✦ “Tell me traveler, what brought you to this–”

“You,” they cut him off with a wink.

✦ “Unless you’re dying to consort with Monsters.”

“...I don’t like the way you said “consort”, but you’re not wrong. Sign me up—”

Vere: [Shocked Pikachu face]

✦ “Come, take my hand and we’ll go together.”

“Woah! Save the hand holding for after marriage!”

✦ “Do you like dancing? There’s a traveling troupe in Hightown tonight. Truly a performance to die for.”

“Are you asking me out?”

Vere looks taken aback for a moment, but before he answers, the MC chimes in; “Too late. You did.”

✦ “I know Eridia like the back of my hand—”

“oh, that’s why it looked so heavy…”

“...Uh, pardon?”

“May I help? I can hold it for you—”

✦ When Vere grabs them, nuzzling in their throat, murmuring threats, they almost faint in his arms in a dramatic “Now I can die happy” moment.

✦ When they meet again a few hours after, at the Wick, and Kuras mentions that he and Mhin were escorting the MC back, the MC walks forward into the light, only to end up tripping over their own feet and falling flat on their face… and once again, in front of Vere.

✦ “You seem more interested in having the floor as your object of attraction, do you not?” Vere asks with a sly smile.

“What can I say? You look good from this angle.”

“Wait, do you all know each other?” Leander looked confused between the people sitting at the bar. “You’ve met before?”

“We did. Not long ago either,” Ais considered his drink.

“I’m starting to suspect they’re stalking me,” Vere comments.

“If I were, I would have to say you're quite the elusive target," the MC winks at Vere as they try to get up, only to fall again. 

✦ Later, when Vere is alone at the bar, the MC slides onto the stool next to him. They rest their chin on their knuckles. “So, about that—” Their elbow slides on the smooth wood, causing them to stumble, trying not to knock over their drink. "Sorry about that," they say with a sheepish grin, trying to regain their balance. "So, about that drink?"

"Well, isn't that cute? I might just have to take you up on that offer."

✦ “So, you survived the night. Are you here for praise, or will a head pat do?”

“anYTHING JUST plEaSE–”

✦ When they arrive in the abandoned alley the MC tries to lean against the brick wall, only to smack their head.

✦ When they attempt to unbuckle his collar, he lashes out a hand, capturing theirs. “Tch. Don’t you know better than to touch without asking?”

“Can I please please please please—”

“No.”

“—please—”

“No.”

✦ Leander’s voice echoes from the Wick, and the MC glances behind them and back at Vere, only he’s gone. “...Not even a kiss good night 🥲?” They pout into the empty night air.

EXTRA: Modern era

✦ “Hey, can I call my phone from yours? I think I’ve lost it,” the MC looks at him with pleading eyes.

He raises an eyebrow and hands his phone over. When the MC presses call, their phone rings from their pocket.

“Thanks,” they hand his phone back.

He later finds out there is a new contact number under the name “My darling.”

[fieldsofwriting]

How do you think the love interests would react to an accidental love confession from the farmer? Like during a Friday night they just BLURT it out in front of everyone?

Anon, I answered this ask in full almost. And then Tumblr crashed on my computer and I lost it ALL. I am foaming at the mouth. I can't remember all of what was written so pls enjoy these two I could actively remember but let me know if you want more!

Ryis:

The last thing that anyone at the Inn had expected was to be so involved with the D&D campaign that happened at the table by the door. Truly, it hadn't been on the docket to basically watch it unfold for the entirety of Winter but where the Farmer was involved the whole town loved to watch them.

Eiland sat as the DM, then Balor the rouge, Ryis the Druid, Brad the Bearded Bard made his return with his daughter- Brightclaw at his side. And you, the fighter. Currently the store was at the climax of it all- with the spring air just looming around the corner it was almost time to switch off on someone else's campaign. But as you and the rest of your party entered the lair of the big bad you'd been hunting the last thing you were expecting was for Ryis to fall.

The party had, for lack of a better word, gotten thier asses handed to them. Brightclaw was knocked out on the ground, Brad the Bearded Bard was trying to help her get back up. Balor was knocked down, but still valiantly trying to get back up. And Ryis. Ryis in his final act had given the last of his health to get Balor back up. He had tried not to focus on the way your eyes watered and you pleaded with him out of character to not do it. But as Balor gets up and manages to get the final blow in an Epic victory, Eiland starts to narrate again.

"Ryis, as you take your final breaths, is there anything you wish to say?" He asks giving his friend a smile.

You rapidly flip through your spells and items trying to stop this- you couldn't- even if it was fake you couldn't loose Ryis like this. As your eyes land on one of your spells you gasp, slamming your hands on the table as you stand. "I cast Summon Deity!"

Eiland blinks, looking to Ryis who gives a nod to let you do this. "Which deity do you wish to summon then?"

"The God of Death!" You say frantically. "I want to plead with him to save Ryis." Eiland gives you a nod to continue. Taking a deep breath, you nod. "Dear God of Death please spare my party member."

Eiland raises an eyebrow, "And why should I?" He asks you.

"Because! Ryis doesn't deserve his end here! He can not die here! This isn't how it was supposed to be! Ryis is kind, selfless, compassionate! He likes to have ice coffee every Saturday! He thinks that watching the birds fly and sing is cool! He likes to make birdhouses and put them all over Mistria! His fate shouldn't be dying here- even then! He gave the last of his health to help defeat evil. Is that not admirable? Is that not thing you should reward?" You plead.

Eiland smirks, knowing exactly what he was doing. "You sound as if you're in love with him."

"I am!" You rush, "I love him so much, and I can not bear to be without him. Please!" Eiland grins raising a hand.

"Your request is granted." He nods, looking over Ryis. And then it hits you. You just admitted that you were in love with him. In front of everyone. While playing D&D of all places. Ryis joins you in standing from across the table.

"As I feel my life coming back to me, I reach out my hand and take y/n's. Looking into her eyes, I say that I love you too." The Inn erupts into cheers causing you and Ryis to startle before breaking out into laughter.

"Hear that Joise! You owe me twenty Ters!"

Celine:

Friday night at the Inn were also fun. And they were especially fun when all of the younger single townsfolk gathered together to drink. It wasn't often that it happened but every now and again it was something you would all sit at the bar and do- it often left Hemlock very entertained.

But now, as you all sat and started chatting you were sharing the worse pick up lines that you had ever heard. Giggling at how awful they were with each other. "Ugh! We once had a guy where who did that dumb 'is your dad a baker? Cause you've got nice buns pun to me." Reina says with an eyeroll as she tips her head back to drink. The rest of the girls groan in unison.

"Shouldn't the line be about your mother? Considering she was the one who was pregnant?" Adeline says with a frown and crease in her brow. Celine pats her shoulder.

"Don't think about it too hard." She smiles, "And as much as that sucks. I do wish I had at least one of those stories." She sighs, "No one has said something like that to me." Celine frowns a little, her pout adorably cute.

"Wait- you've never been hit on?" You asks with a gasp. "That just seems like a crime." Your friends go a little quiet as they process what you had just said, but in your slightly tipsy state you continued to blabber on. "I mean, seriously. You're like the cutest person ever. I can give you a good pick up line-" You lean over, wrapping an arm around her chair. Not realizing the way that her face flushes as she watches you intensely. "Are you a rose? Because you're making my heart bloom."

Sighing, Orlic gets up. "Okay c'mon Y/N lets get you home." He smiles as he helps you, "Hemlock's orders."

In the morning, you wake up with a raging headache and a...banging in your head? Getting up to see the sunlight shining in you blink as you realize the banging isn't just in your head. Hopping out of bed to open the door, Celine stands there with a bright red blush looking anywhere but you. "H-hello y/n...uhm...do you remember last night?"

Opening the door more you nod, silently offering for her to come inside. "Of course I do. Why? Should I not?" You ask with a raised eyebrow as you go to make some coffee.

"W-well you hit on me." She stammers out.

"That is what people who have crushes tend to do with the person they have a crush on, do." You smirk.

She stands there before blinking rapidly. "I- you-" She lets out a sigh as she rushes over and wraps her arms around you. "I like you too." She breathes. Letting out a quiet laugh you hold her tightly. Happy that it has turned out for the best.

A/N: I can definitely do the others- but like I said Tumblr crashed and I wanna throw hands. But anyways, I hope you enjoyed!!

[mellozheist]

Hi guess who got no sleep last night (thanks doctor's appointment) and decided to watch your animatic again

I quote myself about 1 hour ago in a treebark channel on a discord server my friends and I made (to anybody that reads this i am so sorry):

(Also I'm sorry if somebody's uncomfortable with swearing :'D)

"[Link]

I'm sorry I still can't handle this animation's existence peoples

I can't with it

I'm crazy

Like REN PUTTING HIS HEAD BACK ON AND CALMING DOWN MARTYN WHO'S PANICKING?????

REN BEING SO CALM AND THEN FUCKING CRAZY IN THE NEXT SHOT?????

FUCKING HELLO????

THE VERY FIRST FEW SHOTS WHERE MARTYN IS LOOKING AT REN BEING ALL EXCITED AND BLUSHING??????

THE END????????

THEM HAVING THEIR PINKIES WRAPPED AROUND???? I EVEN SENT MELLOZ AN ASK ABOUT THAT AND THEY TOLD ME "oh yeah they indirectly promised to see each other in the next life series :3" MELLOZ IS SINGLEHANDEDLY KILLING THE TREEBARK SHIPPERS WITH THIS ONE

MARTYN HOLDING REN'S HAND AND KISSING IT BEFORE DYING ALSO

GUYS I BEG

I CAN'T WITH THIS

I CANNOT

I AM UNABLE TO

Oh my gosh FCUKING REN PUTTING HIS HEAD BACK ON AND LOOKING AT MARTYN WITH THOSE DANG EYES

Guys I need to resist spamming this thing in here

But at the same time IT'S SOOOOOO TEMPTING

FUCKIN

LOOK AT IT

[Link]

GRIPPING MY HEAD FURIOUSLY

THIS WHOLE BEHEADONG SCENE

I JUST NOTICED REN'S NECK DOESN'T LIGN UP PROPERLY IN THE SHOT WHERE MARTYN KISSES HIS HAND

GUYS I'M INSANE

GIYS I'M INSANE

LOOK AT THISSSSSSS

Furiously rattling the bars of my cell is that what it's called

Honestly I never thought I'd go insane over a ship called treebark

IT'S FUCKING BAUMRINDE IN GERMAN

BAUMRINDE IS SUCH A SILLY SHIP NAME ISTFG

I don't think I've ever loved an animatic thid much

I'VR NEVER LOOKED AT AN ANIMATIC SO CLOSELY

THE FACT THE FIRST SCENE IS SO SWEET AND THE SECOND ONE IS ALREADY REN BEING BEHEADED

I wish they won. I wish Ren or Martyn was the winner of 3rd Life

CAN'T I HAVE L8KE

A LITTLE FAIRY THAT MAKES MY WISHES COME TRUE?

C'MOOOOONNNNN [insert a bunch of screaming emotes here]

AGH I CAN'T

...what if i copied every single message and sent melloz this as an ask to show my appreciation

CUZ I SURE DO APPRECIATE THIS ANIMATIC

[Link]

WATCH THIS. WATCH. OBSERVE. NOW. I BEG.

I'VE WATCHED THIS FOR 5 TIMES IN A ROW NOW

I'M VERY SANE

I STILL CAN'T GET OVER REN'S NECK NOT ALIGNING PROPERLY

also the feather and the poppy but this is the treebark channel

Not

Not desert duo

I CAN'T

.........do i send this as an ask i am very sane i promise

One of my very favourite scenes though is the beheading scene, funnily enough

Me literally passing out when I see gore but not here cuz idk baumrinde <333333

Also here

HIS NECK.

IS NOT.

ALIGNING.

Or what if it's his head falling off after death cuz he died and that determination is no longer there to keep dogwarts, causing his hesd to fall off

New headcanon i think

And I just noticed I watched this like 6 times now DESERVED THOUGH

Gonna watch it again

I love them so much

I love this animatic so much

Guys I can't

WAIT DID MARTYN'S EARS TILT DOWN IN THE REN DEAD SCENE

HOLD

WAIR YEAH

HIS EARS TILTED DOWN

I CAN'T

Somebody stop me

Actually no

Oh also the song choice IS PERFECT????????

WAIT REN'S PONYTAIL IS GONE IN THE LAST SCENE HIS HAIR IS OPEN

YAAAAAYYYYYY

Anywhoozles

[Link]

WATCH THIS.

I BEG

EVERYBODY THAZ DOESN'T IS MISSING OUT THIS IS SO COOL"

And with that, Melloz you're amazing, EVERYBODY WATCH THE ANIMATIC EVER >:D

I have so much fun reading this, It's like I'm in a theater seat watching this happen with 4D sound surrounding Lmaoooo

Thank you for sending this to me I really appreciate this <3333

I'm so happy you eating all the details I put in hehe

though the part where you describe Ren's neck as not aligning is probably just my error in art but that's also a really cool headcanon!

I might adopt that headcanon :d Like drawing Martyn carrying Ren's head

you really made my day Thank yooou :D

hope you get a good night sleep bud

[unholywriter]

Stars | Jaime Reyes x Fem!Reader

Warning: Fluff.

Paring: Magic Reader x Symbiotic alien infused bug boy.

a/n: I know it’s definitely not the time of year for Christmas but enjoy. 💙🪲

It was later, and your shift was ending. Working at a bar downtown in Palmera City, you never knew what kind of rambunctious shenanigans would unfold. But, for Christmas Eve, it was quiet. It was a godly slow day, not many stopped by aside the few occasional regulars wishing good holidays. Thankfully, it was coming to an end. Setting up the bar stools on the table, and making sure all was clean, capped and put away. You slid out the door, locking it behind you. Palmera was nippy, but it doesn’t get too terribly cold around this time of year.

Pulling up your scarf you walked looking at the text message from Jaime, your lover. A smile blanketed your face.

Jaime: Close went good?

You: Yes. Just stepping out now.

Jaime: Need a pick up? I’m near by.

You: What, a roof top a block over?

Jaime: Hey, rooftops are peaceful. 🥺

You: So is being wrapped up in my bfs arms but, sadly you like rooftops more. 😈

Jaime: You’re not going to let me live that down huh? Also, lamp post. 😂😭

As you read the last part you halted immediately. You were a few inches from running into it. You took a breath in and smiled looking up to the sky to see a silhouette of a particular blue looking suited boyfriend of yours. But you knew he was grinning ear to ear underneath that mask.

“tfihs em oot sih edis.” You whispered. Now it was your turn to grin ear to ear as you materialize right beside him. You swore a squeak left his mouth.

“Dios mío mi amor!” He hitched his breath, dramatically placing his hand on his chest. “You know you could have just let me come down and meet you right?”

“Maybe I like the rooftops too.” You smile, and move in closer to embrace him. He embraced you back, and just like he read your thoughts, and well. Khaji reading his; the suit’s mask dematerialized revealing his gorgeous face underneath. And damn those beautiful brown doe eyes of his.

“You were just teasing me about it.” He rolled his eyes, his grip gently squeezing you.

“I know.” You placed your lips against his tenderly, running your fingers though his hair as he kissed you back just as sweetly. “I’ve missed you JaiJai.”

“Sorry for being gone a week, I thought we caught wind on a lead for Ted.” He said grimly. His mood changing only made you soften your expression with more concern.

“How’s Jenny?” You pulled away slowly. You still didn’t leave his touch though. But you knew making sure he was okay and being his emotional support is more important than craving deep intimacy at the moment from him.

“She’s doing well for someone who found out her father is alive. Just not knowing where he is, you know. She’s worried.” He began to explain, his tone and pace nerve racked. You could only assume because, Ted, being his predecessor. A man he’s never met before. Definitely an unregulated, stressful situation. Not only that, Jenny and Jaime had some moments together. But, she stepped away knowing you two were more or so in love with each other without each other knowing. She was the one, (and Milagro) who gave you both a push ironically. Now it’s been a few months after Jaime had Khaji Da infused within him, Victoria Kord, and Jaime’s father almost dying. It’s been rough, but you’ve been there. As a best friend and his lover. He is thankful, and you know it. Just as much as you’ve been thankful for him all these years.

“I’m glad, but we’re here for her. She has you. And Milagro always makes it her business to make sure she and all of us are okay. So honestly, Jenny will be alright.” You smile, entangling your fingers within his. “You will be alright too, got that mi querido?”

“Loud and clear.” He smiled brightly, fighting back his tears. You reached up, rubbing your finger against his cheek.

“So, do you still want to visit the tree in town square?” You ask, making sure he’s up for it. Yes distractions are nice too get away from everything but you can’t always run away.

“Of course. But I actually had a better idea.” His grin pulled further, a bit of mischief being one of your favorite signature looks that spread across his face.

“What do you have in mind?” You grinned back, curious to what your boyfriend had in store.

“Just trust me?” He grabbed both your hands gently and started to walk backwards, leading you too the edge.

“Always.” You tittered softly, turning back into a soft smile. He then lifted you into his arms. His wings materialized and off you two went. The view was beautiful, of course you’re used to flying via magic yourself but being in his arms with the breeze hitting you even if it was chilly was very peaceful. Soon you could see Palmera City Square, the large Christmas tree erect in all its multicolored glory for season cheer.

“So pretty.” You spoke softly. “What now?”

You both now hovered a far distance from and over the tree. The crowd gathered below enjoying the festivity. “I thought we could have a once in a life time experience not many normal people can experience.”

“Oh?” You tucked some of his curled hair behind his ear still nice and snug in his arms. “So we’re not normal?”

Your tease made him laugh. “I have an alien symbiotic peice of technology infused into my back and connected to every cell in my human body and you? Well, you’ve never been normal mi tesoro.”

The tease back earned him a gentle smack to his shoulder. “Wow, if this is your way too whoo me tonight I might just have to up my game.”

“Hey! I meant you not being normal in the best way possible!” He cheesed. And you gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“I know my love. So what now?” You beamed happily. Patiently waiting for his goofy, lovable plan of his. Because well, both of you were sixty or so feet in the air and you were beginning to wonder if people looked up wondering what or who was hovering above them.

“Well.” He then begin to help you to where you were now dangling closely together. But your feet hung out, and gravity wasn’t to kind. “Uh.” He laughed nervously, his plan not working in his favor for the moment. “I was going to see if we could just, dance? But, I honestly didn’t think this part through.”

“It’s okay Jaime, that’s why having a girlfriend with magic comes in handy.” You giggled. Holding him close. Taking a breath in you closed your eyes and met his again. “Ekam eht ria a ecnad roolf, kaolc su nihtiw eht thgin.”

With ease your feet met an invisible flooring underneath the both of you. He looked down awe stuck with bewilderment but quickly smiled back. “What did…?”

“Now we can dance.” You took your arms wrapping them around his neck. He tenderly held you by your back. From below Christmas music rang, the smell of peppermint and pine filled both your senses. Laughter and happiness from people all over could be heard. It was truly magical.

“Okay, so bear with me mi amor. My two left feet might become a problem.” His cheeks turned a tint of pink, and soon an even more embarrassed expression crossed his face. “No Khaji!” He looked over his shoulder in a fit of sheepishness. Your smile pulled further.

“What did she say this time?”

“She said she could help me learn because she indulged herself to the internet the other night.” He rolled his eyes yet again.

“Oh no, that poor thing.” You gasped in actual horror. “I hope she didn’t delve too deep into the endless web of dark and treacherous Fortnite dances.”

“Do not give her any ideas.” He widened his eyes. You laughed again. Waiting patiently. “Besides, even if I trip over my feet as long as I’m dancing with you no matter how bad I am - that’s all that matters to me”.

You blushed softly. “Me too. Then lead the way Jai.”

Slowly, he began to lead. His steps a bashful disaster. But, he kept at it, soon both you moving in a circle of rhythm. “I think, I think we got!” He looked down and snapped back up with his playful, dramatic expression of giddiness. One of the many things that you fell in love with about him.

“We are!” You pressed your lips together tighter, and he then placed his forehead against yours.

“Feliz navidad mi estrella.” He said softly as the bells began to chime signifying midnight. “I love you so much y/n.”

“Feliz navidad Jaime. I love you so very much too amor de mi vida.” You softly spoke back. A gentle kiss was exchanged, and the both of you continued to dance above the city square. Locked deep in each other’s arms, but more importantly deep within each other’s hearts. And man, were the stars so pretty tonight as they watched the both of you fall in love deeply.

[thydungeongal]

Sword of Cepheus Character Creation: Vagabond

For those of you not in the know, The Sword of Cepheus is a Cepheus Engine RPG in the good old swords and sorcery (as well as swords and sandals and sword and planet) genre. What is the Cepheus Engine? Well, it's the system that Traveller, the classic sci-fi RPG of space-trucking and dying in character creation, runs on. I am unsure of the details of why the Cepheus Engine has been turned into a generic, open system, but since the Traveller licence is currently held by Mongoose Publishing and Mongoose was at one point swept up in the OGL hype leading to at least some of their games (including RuneQuest) being made open gaming content under the OGL, I suspect it to be a similar situation here.

Anyway, Sword of Cepheus is an adaptation of the Cepheus Engine into the fantasy genre and to someone whose only exposure to Traveller has been the very first edition of the game (known as Classic Traveller these days) it looks very familiar. Barring the fact that there's no dying in character creation, although characters can still end up badly wounded.

I'll be rolling up a character for Sword of Cepheus, because it's one of those systems where character creation is nice and gamey.

What I know of my character already: As per the poll I ran, I will be making a Vagabond. But since I also happened to notice that this game has options for non-human characters and I'm particularly fond of goblins, I will be making a separate Goblin character. (Non-human characters have their own careers they are locked into, and while Sword of Cepheus is nowhere near as strict about forcing characters to only advance within the skills afforded by their career as something like D&D, it is still a fun nod to Basic D&D's demihuman classes.)

Anyway, a lot of text under the cut:

Sword of Cepheus uses six stats, some of them familiar, some less so: Strength, Dexterity, Endurance, Intelligence, Education, and Social Standing. To create a character you simply assign an array to these stats in whatever order you like: 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

That array happens to be more or less what you would get by rolling 2d6 for every stat, but slightly nudged upwards. In fact, 2d6 per stat was the way Classic Traveller handled character creation, and it is provided here as an alternate stat generation method. I'll be going with the default method for now.

The game tells me a bit about what the stats do, there's a derived modifier from each ability score. A score of 5 (the lowest in the array) happens to be the threshold for having a -1 modifier, with values of 6-8 yielding a modifier of +0, with 9-11 translating to a +1. So our character will be pretty average to start with. I will be assigning that 8 to EDU, because an EDU of 8+ is the minimum needed to access a career's Advanced Education options, so that sounds good. I'm picturing a character who is sly and roguish, clever and quick on their feet, but not particularly well-equipped to handle direct physical conflict. This is what their stats look like:

STR 5, DEX 9, END 6, INT 10, EDU 8, SOC 7

My first decision after this is to pick my character's background from a short list and set one of the skills tied to that background to a rating of 1. Skills in this game start out with a skill rating of nil, meaning that your character is untrained in it and takes a -3 untrained penalty on attempts to use the skill, but in character creation characters will end up with many skills bumped up to rank 0, cancelling out the penalty, after which a skill rating of 1 already gives the character a +1 bonus on checks related to that skill. It's a very traditional ability modifier + skill rating versus target number system, only using 2d6.

Anyway, the Aristocracy background appeals to me the most: I like the idea of a noble scion fallen on hard times, forced into a life of adventuring. The Aristocracy background explicitly states that a character from said background may no longer have a noble title, which makes sense given our character's distinctly average SOC (for reference: the Noble career, distinct from Aristocracy background, is available only to characters of SOC 10 or higher).

The Aristocracy background gives us a choice between three skills: Carousing, Riding, and Govern. Carousing is the skill used for gathering information and mingling in social settings, as well as gambling! So that seems perfect for our character. We pick up Carousing 1 for our character.

Our character has now graduated out of being 14 years old and now we beging the most interesting part of character creation: career advancement. Back in Traveller, characters would pick a service branch and then basically go on 4-year "tours" in that service branch, picking up skills and abilities, and also rolling for random events which included dying horribly. Sword of Cepheus' system is much the same, except we are by default locked into one Career (although there is an optional rule allowing characters to move between careers: this is something I think could be expanded upon, with various careers allowing for "exits" into other careers) and there is no chance of dying in character creation, although there is still room for hilarity. Looking at the master character creation table I decide that 3 Terms is well and good enough to get a rounded character. We've already got our career picked for us too: Vagabond, an itinerant wanderer and general ne'er-do-well.

We first note our career's Service Skills (and this terminology really makes it clear this game is a hack of a military sci-fi game) and pick one of them to set to a skill rating of 1, and the others go to 0. There are exactly six service skills, so it would be theoretically possible to randomize this process as well. But I'm just going to pick Streetwise. So, taking into account our Background Skill, this is what our current skills look like:

Carousing 1, Survival 0, Streetwise 1, Melee 0, Deception 0, Sneak 0, Scout 0

At this point we get two Skill Levels we can distribute among skills from the Vagabond's lists of skills: Either Service, Specialist, or Advanced Education. The text is quite unclear as to whether the first skill level boosts a character's skill level to 0 or 1, but I look around for the Cepheus Engine SRD and the latter seems to be implied as the default. This makes me think that it is more cost-effective to ignore the skills we have already raised to 0 and instead focus on skills that our character doesn't have at all or has at level 1 already. I feel the text could stand to be a lot clearer with its intent here.

Anyway, I look at the Specialist skills category and notice a skill called Jack o'Trades, which reduces the Untrained penalty for using skills by 1 per rank. During my character's first term they can have a skill at a maximum of level 2, so. I'm just bumping that skill up by 2. To make a ridiculously well-rounded character.

Carousing 1, Survival 0, Streetwise 1, Melee 0, Deception 0, Sneak 0, Scout 0, Jack o'Trades 2

At the end of my character's first term I will also roll a Vagabond Event for them with a 2d6. The result is a 7, which guides me to look at the Life Event table, of which there are three: Hinterlands, Village, and City. The Hinterlands table happens to be the first one I see and I don't have a clear idea of my character yet, so I pick that one. My next roll is a 5 which gives my character this:

The local noble takes an interest in you, for better or worse. Either gain an Ally but lose a Benefit roll or gain an Enemy and gain a Benefit roll.

Brief explanation of what Benefit rolls are: once character creation is complete, we will be making a number of rolls equal to number of terms taken in a career's "Mustering Out Benefits" table (there's that mil sci-fi terminology again), and getting a bunch of benefits to start with. I feel that making an enemy of a noble fits our character concept well, so we'll go with that one.

Our character is now 18 years of age and we're starting their second term. To continue with making our character ridiculously well-rounded I am once again putting a level in Jack o'Trades, as well as buying the skill Liaison 1 (used for negotiation, haggling, impressing people, etc.).

Carousing 1, Survival 0, Streetwise 1, Melee 0, Deception 0, Sneak 0, Scout 0, Jack o'Trades 3, Liaison 1

And once again, we roll for a Vagabond Event. A result of 5 gets us this:

Foreigners – Your travel among strangers. Gain an Ally or a Language.

Because I am imagining a very traditional swords and sorcery world but I somewhat want to invert the dynamics a bit, I am thinking of a Thirteenth Warrior situation where our character, from a heavily SWANA-coded region, travels for a time and ends up in fantasy viking land. That also perfectly ties into them having made an enemy with a noble, and also ties into their aristocratic background and loss of social station. Besides our character's native language, they now speak Fantasy Viking.

Our character is now 22 years of age as we begin our third and final term. For skills I am picking Riding 1 and Leadership 1: I assume that during our character's time in viking land they ended up fighting alongside their viking friends, doing horsemanship, that sort of thing.

Carousing 1, Survival 0, Streetwise 1, Melee 0, Deception 0, Sneak 0, Scout 0, Jack o'Trades 3, Liaison 1, Riding 1, Leadership 1

And finally it's time for our last Vagabond Event: a 7 gives us a roll on the Life Events table again, so let's refer to that. Based on what we've established of our character's situation thus far, they are probably in what counts as Hinterlands in this setting. Another 7 gives us the following result:

You form a close relationship with someone. Gain an Ally.

Of course our character became sworn brothers with a cool guy named Brynjolf, his BFF. Together they intend to one day return to my character's homeland and probably kick the ass of whoever it is made them lose their station.

With that our character has come to the end of their third term and at 26 years of age it's time to roll their four mustering out benefits (three for three terms, one for a life event result). These are all separate 1d6 rolls, and before each I must choose whether they will be Gold or Material Benefits. I could also trade Benefits for skills. Gold does not particularly interest me, so I will be simply rolling all four on the Material Benefits table: 4, 3, 5, 5

Which comes out to... Weapon, Ally, Ally, Ally. :D

Our character has hella allies.

We also get to pick two traits for our character (the number of starting traits is the number of Terms divided by 2, rounded up)! These are very much not unlike feats in D&D parlance, being little ways to customize our character and make them a bit more unique. Looking at my options the following two stand out:

Awareness Prerequisite: INT 9+ The character has sharp senses and is difficult to surprise. When rolling the Scout skill to avoid surprise the character throws with Advantage. This applies even if the character does not have the Scout skill and rolls with the Unskilled penalty. Note that this trait does not apply when the character is setting up a deliberate ambush; the Hunter Trait covers that instead.

Danger Sense Prerequisite: DEX 9+ The character instinctively senses danger and can try to evade enemy attacks even when unaware of the assailant. It can be very difficult to ambush this character effectively. When the character is attacked by an enemy the character is unaware of, throw DEX 8+; if successful, the character uses their Dodge or Parry bonus (see the Combat chapter for further details).

Our character is all but impossible to catch off-guard.

Anyway, our character turned out somewhat less remarkable than I had hoped, but I still have a good idea for him: a young noble scion whose family was all murdered in power struggle between the noble houses of his nation, who escaped and traveled to the far North to live in exile, but who intends to return not to reclaim his title but to simply take revenge for the death of his family. To this end, he has made allies many skilled warriors in the North who seek to accompany him on his quest, including his BFF and sworn brother Brynjolf. Playing around with some name generators, I eventually end up with a name for him: Shamash-Nasir

Shamash-Nasir STR 5, DEX 9, END 6, INT 10, EDU 8, SOC 7 Carousing 1, Survival 0, Streetwise 1, Melee 0, Deception 0, Sneak 0, Scout 0, Jack o'Trades 3, Liaison 1, Riding 1, Leadership 1 Traits: Awareness, Danger Sense Benefits: Weapon, Ally (x4), Enemy

We also get a starting package of equipment. This is what the Vagabond package looks like:

Dagger (2d6) Bedroll Cudgel (2d6) Hide Armor (3) Bread, course 9GP 98CP

The rest of character creation is simply doing math for stuff like our character's Stamina (hit points) and Lifeblood (meat points), but that won't be necessary now. What matters is that we got a neat little guy out of this!

[darkwitchingflower]

I've lost count but here's another "Sht my friends say as pjo characters" pt like 7???: Also side note sorry if I'm repeating these idr the last one i did lol:

Jason: I opened my glasses case and started panicking because I couldn't find my glasses... I'm literally wearing them

Leo: if I ever have a son ill take every chance to laugh at him

Reyna: Thalia the love magnet. She got b*tches (romantic) when all she wanted was b*tches (platonic) (Gojolover69, see last quotes post by @wraith--2)

Leo: so you're a ho*n't (same person above)

Piper: Stole scientific equipment and everything and we found out the smallest thing in the galaxy is the size of our patience because we gave up the search and stole a gazillion dollar dildo ( @wraith--2 )

Leo:....calculator

Reyna: You're a calculator

Leo: are you calling me smart?

Reyna: no I'm calling you a tool

(I'm Leo and @thatonelazyghost is Reyna here)

Piper: Coach keeps going on about ppl who aren't in and he's like and then there's Annabeth who's broken her ankle ( @wraith--2 )

Will: I'm gay, I have the spidey sense for rainbow things ( @indecisivenb)

Nico: it's not gay if it's from behind

Nico: I'm ready to leave now

Nico: like I'm done

Nico: too peopley

Nico: nvm coach gave me a maulteaser

(Me on my last day of college)

Annabeth: You absolute bean of a human

Piper: Hi its me, Percy, a twink! ( @thatonelazyghost)

Leo: I put Frank down because he's lactose intolerant (me)

Leo: dismember my body and stick me in a lightning McQueen coffin ( @wraith--2 )

Nico: what's your sexuality

Ghost swings it back and forth*

Nico writing down bi: Ah you swing both ways ( @wraith--2 )

Reyna about Leo: DAM bros balls didn't drop

Leo: ...and the tip was empty

Mr D about Connor and Travis: ITS THE F*CKING TWINS!!! WANNA KNOW HOW I KNOW THAT?! THAT GUY HAD THE F*CKING ZOOMIES HE HAD PLACES TO GO AND PEOPLE TO SEE

Nico: is anyone gonna pay attention to the fact Leo's dead?

Leo: THANK YOU!

Nico: You're dead shut up

(Nico is @thatonelazyghost and I'm Leo here)

Luke: I'm no p*ssy ill skin my victims infront of the lifeguard ( @wraith--2 )

Leo: like do you moan daddy, mammy or parental???

Playing stardew valley*

Nico: I love Willy

Everyone dies*

Percy: I love cream in my mouth! (Ider the context for this I just know the sake friend said the quote above this one too so it may be smth to do with that idr)

Leo: I don't need a psychiatrist I- ( @duckbakery)

Piper: you need God (Gojolover69)

Playing DnD*

Leo: I also successfully charmed a woman at the bar, then Nico ( @duckbakery ) goes

"The woman leads you away"

Everyone else: "ohh wait hold on ooo whats going on, dayum"

Nico: "you come back 2 minutes later"

Everyone dying laughing

Nico: "you went into a private room but couldn't stop talking about pirate ships so she gave up"

Alex Fiero (I think that's their name? I haven't read Magnus yet): Oh so YOU'RE the gender goblin ( @thatonelazyghost )

Mr D: I'm literally the god of gender identity, furries and monsters

Piper: I want someone to yippee on my body ( @thatonelazyghost )

Leo: Leo you should know better its because of your feminism you f*cking freak

Annabeth: Freaky feminists have got to be my favourite breed of gender (she was totally talking about Thalia here) ( @wraith--2 )

Calypso: Leo always finishes early

Leo: ye I do- WAIT WHAT?! ? ( @duckbakery )

Playing stardew*

Piper: LEOS A WOMAN

Piper: OMG HIS NAMES EMO-LY

(Me about another friend)

(Pic of character at end of post)

Nico: do you have any food?

Hades: Nope ( @duckbakery )

Nico: guess I'll die then

Thalia: I have a dead cat in my shed

Hazel: OMG PICS

Thalia: Read that again

Hazel: OH OH NO OH NO OH NOOOOOOOO I DIDNT SEE THE WORD DEAD

(I was Hazel here)

Rachel: I do other stuff than being ginger ( @duckbakery )

Percy: If you don't sleep rn im gonna call you tickle tipsin

Annabeth: ... what ( @duckbakery )

Nico: call me what now (me)

Percy: it's from the "it's been a year daddy" video you freaky f*cks

Nico: it's a beautiful day outside... f*ck- (GojoLover69)

Playing stardew valley*

Piper: annabeth ya know he likes pickles right?

Me: ya

Hazel: who like pickles?

Piper: Harvey

Hazel: divorse him!

Piper: ye he clearly likes men

(I'm annabeth and @duckbakery is piper here)

(The text was sent too early)

Percy: sorry I'm late I got blown

Percy: into smithereens

( @duckbakery )

Percy: This is more zesty than Piper and that's saying something ( @wraith--2 )

Leo to Jason: F*cking senile b*tch

Jason: I'm older and wiser except I'm not smart ( @duckbakery)

Piper: forget the fact I split a gay man in half in the gc ( @wraith--2 )

Coach Hedge to frank: why did you feel the need to @everyone about percy and annabeth getting 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 ( @thatonelazyghost )

Annabeth: oooh eloquent 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 ( @wraith--2 )

Reyna: Perchance you can suck my d*ck ( @wraith--2 )

Leo: Perchance you can commit tax fraud with me (Gojolover69)

Piper: Perchance we can stab ppl together ( @wraith--2 )

Percy: Perchance. Get on the f*cking boat and let's hunt 😈 (Gojolover69)

Rachel: perchance 7 half bloods shall answer the call to storm or fire the world perchance must fall with an oath to keep with a final breath perchance as foes bear arms to the doors of death perchnace (me)

Nico to will: Perchance you and me should fall into tartarus ( @wraith--2 )

Thalia: perchance we should all hug and kiss in a platonic way ( @thatonelazyghost )

Reyna: Perchance that is an excellent suggestion (Gojolover69)

Reyna: Perchance I shall kiss Thalia completely platonically ( @wraith--2 )

Percy: perchance that platonically is bs (me)

Reyna: Lies I'm off at sea and don't see Thalia every morning ( @wraith--2 )

Percy: i know for sure you've found a way regardless ( @thatonelazyghost )

Reyna: I feel like this is bullying ( @wraith--2 )

Leo: guys we need to do among us in real life ( @duckbakery )

Annabeth: That's already a game Leo, it's called mafia ( @thatonelazyghost )

Percy: I see you've grown a brain can you share (friend from work)

Thalia: the need to refer to eachother as "love", "dear" and "pookie" is strong but the aro is stronger ( @thatonelazyghost )

Piper: this whole group is secretly but not very secretly a big polyamorous relationship ( @thatonelazyghost )

Reyna: So glad the sex aversion in me is strong cause imagine the stds going round this place my God ( @wraith--2 )

Annabeth: i'm iconic i'm quotable and i'm autistic ( @thatonelazyghost )

Leo: Are you a heinz baked beans, extra rich tomato sauce-sexual? (Gojolover69)

Percy: So my mam booked me and my sister a swimming lane for tmr morning, and I'm like oh dear God mother, u do know I'm currently blasting liquid magma from my a*s, which travels at super sonic speeds, do you reckon this is safe for public health? (Gojolover69)

[practicedvmm13fullofpotatoes]

All of sfth's improvized plays described by someone with bad/selective memory (but remembers 90% of the sentences they make up) pt. 6

26) Priscilla's Final Petal

British/German setting because ??????. Buttercups are magical and a lactose intolerant groundskeeper/assassin is too!! Both music teachers end up fucking dying because the titular character gets possessed by her dead mother after all the petals fall off of her buttercup. Also, this play is really fucked up if you think about it (so are other plays but hthhahhdhs)

27) The Mystery of the Midnight Circus

The oddest one-sided future!au Johnlock fanfic I've ever read. Literally all of this happened because Sherlock loves Watson as family while he loves Sherlock as a.. [lover] (Other assistant Philip!! Shut up!!) and also mind Moriarty fuck chess??? Huh??? I mean, sure, there was murder but it's all in the name of love (Watson does end up dying at the end, though)

28) Caesar and Juliet

"Be careful! Powerful men will always prioritize power over their loved one!" Ten years later "Haha, little did mother know, women can be like that as well" shoutout to Juliet Caesar for proving to me that women with bloodlust will always be the best kind of women

29) Wine Under the Bridge

Troll Son was exiled for thinking there is more to life than goats, Troll Father doesn't accept anything other than the troll norms. Despite their differences, they end up having a happy ending because of their shared love for Troll Mother and they open a wine bar in Ipswich :D (Also, Troll Father just singing Stuck in the middle with you)

30) The Unrelenting Aubergine

A plot including feuding brothers, magic, innuendos, and a gay romance all in one!! Everyone ends up happy in the end!! Yay!! :D

Prev // Next

[edenfenixblogs]

I think that the user who made this post is lacking reading comprehension as to me it looks like Netanyahu is just saying that he wants security controls in place which if we go by the Wikipedia article for security controls, is just tighter security. The article in that post also doesn't include his full statement which adds context.

This article has his whole statement

what are your thoughts on this?

Idk what article or post you’re talking about.

I don’t like or trust Netanyahu. I do not believe anything he says. He’s Israel’s version of Trump. Idk what exactly he wants more control of but based solely on this post it seems like he’s offering to end the war by placing more security and checkpoints around Palestine.

My thoughts on that are that people not dying is better than people dying. But that’s too low a bar. Palestinians deserve better than just “not being under siege.” The steps must be in the direction of increasing freedom, not limiting it further.

This is what I’ve been talking about for months while people have been busy trying to compare me to a Nazi for saying I don’t want Jews to die or be expelled.

The only proper way to behave right now is to actively discuss what a future where both Israelis and Palestinians live together in peace should look like and then taking steps to ensure that future.

If we don’t do that, then Netanyahu will get his wish: tighter controls around Palestine, increased tension between Palestine and Israel, a guarantee that enough discontented Palestinians will look to organizations like Hamas for a solution to their oppression only to end up endangered between a terrorist organization and a hostile Likud-run government that stays in power by casting them as inherently vicious villains.

So, idk man. I can’t know for certain that I have any of this right. I’m just going off context clues cuz I refuse to look it up. Why do I refuse to look it up? Because I’d give myself an 85% chance of being right about what Netanyahu is proposing. Because he’s predictable and a bad person and a bad leader whose only goal is to weaponize both Jewish and Palestinian trauma to retain his own power.

This, even more than the personal attacks from antisemites, is what has bothered me most about western leftist “support” for Palestine during this most recent flair of the conflict. By focusing on attacking Jews around the world and stanning terrorist organizations and ignoring Jewish people and Israelis and even Muslims and Palestinians and Arabs who are and have been actively engaged in working towards peace and against Netanyahu for literal decades they have all but ensured that the most reasonable and informed voices have been effectively silenced. And you know who’s gonna fill that power vacuum? Netanyahu. Cuz it’s what he does.

And then the next time this happens, because it will, we will have to all live through this (or fault to live through it) again.

So, do I get a gold star friends? If I’m wrong I’ll delete this post. But man just the idea of Netanyahu proposing tighter security makes my blood boil. He knows what he’s doing. And it’s bad.

I hope I’m wrong. I hope I’ve misinterpreted something. And I will look it up further. But before I do, I genuinely want to know: is that asshole really that predictable? Did the entire western left literally just fall for his whole schtick and end up helping him to concentrate even more power? Did it work because it relied upon people hating Jews more than they trust Jews or love Palestinians? Cuz it feels like that’s what’s happening.

In the meantime, A Land for All is a solution worth actually discussing. Let’s all work toward that or another equally mutually beneficial solution to this conflict instead of helping Hamas gain adherents and helping Likud retain power:

https://www.alandforall.org/english/?d=ltr

[beefslipper]

Halloween Headcanons (Months early lol)

My last post was such a flop I heard the crickets chirping before I even got on tumblr omg

Since nobody is giving me ideas, I'm just gonna do short n sweet headcanons on one (at least) character from each of the fandoms I'm in... Or at least the ones I can remember. Idk why but I can't wait until spooky month so we're doing Halloween-themed HCs!!!!!! I frickin' love the holidays :D

I won't be using images in my post this time just because I'm like half asleep and I need to yap. (I have no energy and I must yap /ref)

First up, Jason Todd! (Batman)

I think he'd avoid dressing up for trick or treating because his fave is Wonder Woman... Bro's not about to traumatize every child that sees him. However, if he is craving candy hard enough, he'd go in a lazier or goofy costume. You know those unicorn onesies? That's for if he isn't in the mood for ghits and shiggles. An inflatable dinosaur costume is his go-to if he's in a better mood.

I bet he'd have everything planned, too. He knows where all the rich people are and which ones give out the full-sized candy bars or any cool light up toys that make little kids jealous because they have no idea where to find them at.

If he were to go trick or treating with anyone, I think it'd probably be the Batfam as a whole (They don't trust him with not stealing some kid's candy bucket).

Next, Touya Todoroki! (MHA)

This is an AU one where he isn't dying because I don't want him to die (Insert sob emoji).

Since Enji himself is in a wheelchair, he isn't able to push Touya around. He was absolutely devastated by that and begged Natsuo and Fuyumi to take their older brother out to trick or treat since Shoto was with his friends.

Touya would either do a costume to heal his inner child or a lazier one that's comfortable and doesn't irritate his skin. Either way, he's demanding that they go to every house around no matter how long it takes. Any time he gets candy he doesn't like, he asks Natsuo to trade with him LOL

At the end of the night, Enji has to lock away the candy so Touya doesn't scarf it all down and get a stomach ache. He does anyway since it was 'hidden' in the same spot it had always been.

Onto Arlan! (HSR)

My boy doesn't get enough love <3

I think his excitement after hearing about Halloween's existence would be enough to convince the spaceship to set up little stalls for him, Asta, MC, and Peppy to run around to collect candy. He and Asta would probably have matching costumes like ketchup and mustard bottles or pb and j or something cute like that. Or it'd be a three-way deal since Asta would dress Peppy up in some cute little costume.

Arlan would definitely sit on the floor with Asta and MC and trade candies so they each get what they wanted. Asta would have some dog treats for Peppy so they weren't left out :)

At the night's end, Arlan would probably be caught falling asleep, still in costume with a half-eaten candy bar in hand.

Now, Bennett! (Genshin Impact)

He, Razor, Chongyun, and XIngqiu would get together and go out trick or treating. He tried to convince Fischl to go with, but she refused, claiming it was far too childish for someone of her status. That meant "Please bring me back some sweets".

He had a bag specifically for Fischl :)

As the night went on, the boys managed to have good luck. Bennett had never been happier since he was internally horrified of ruining the others' night by only getting raisins, toothbrushes, and apples or having someone's bag rip.

All went well and everyone got a pretty good amount of candy. Even Fischl.

Yap session is done! I kinda wanted to do DMCB stuff or Steven Universe stuff, but my creativity juice ran out. I hope y'all liked this one :D I'll probably do another one when it's actually October. (evaporates I FORGOT JJK oh well)

Have a great day, evening, and/or night everyone :DDDD

[coffeeandbatboys]

Congrats love! That's amazing.

Okay how about 7, Mayday, and 🥰

Merci buckets.

Love oo

Prompt: Writing little notes on post-its and leaving them in random places to read.

This one turned angsty but I promised that all of these would have a happy ending so obvs had to fix it.

Warnings: presumed death. Angst. ending.

Fate (Mayday x Reader)

The morning before Mayday shipped out was spent on bitter tears and desperate kisses. He promised that when the war was over he'd make up for all of the time you lost.

It had been hard, adjusting to the lack of company.

You'd periodically find a love note scribbled on colorful flimsi somewhere in your speeder or around the apartment. They brought you more joy than he'd ever know.

He had left you with no doubt about his love, and anticipating the next time you'd see him.

But weeks turned into months.

Months turned into a year.

The republic fell, replaced by an even more corrupt empire. A lieutenant had told you that most of the troopers on Barton IV were killed in action.

So you rebelled. For four months you did everything that the Empire stood against, and they made sure you were punished for every last insignificant crime.

They were banishing you to one of the infamous ‘hellhole planets’

You were dropped miles from the base with half a ration bar and a torn up coat. Trekking through the snow and the ice, you thought that maybe just dying was a good idea. You had fallen too many times to count, and it was becoming hard to get back up when you felt like your muscles were being stabbed by a million icicles. But a voice called to you. Someone across the frozen ground was running in your direction.

Standing on shaky legs you raised a hand to your eyes to get a better look at who it was.

You recognized clone armor and began to trudge through the snow once more.

When the trooper reached you, you had fallen again. He dropped to his knees and removed his bucket. You looked into his eyes and hope swelled in your chest.

He kissed you with the same passion as the last ones you’d shared all that time ago.

“M..mm..may..ay..d..d..ay?” You gasped through chattering teeth, blinking through the snow on your lashes. His forehead rested against yours.

“It’s me, Mesh’la,” his voice broke. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

He held you in his arms and helped you all the way back to the base.

You cried and held onto him for hours, praying to whoever that it wasn’t a dream. He was so different from the last time you’d seen him, but he was still your Mayday.

“I read your notes,” you hiccuped, tears freezing on your cheeks. “The imperials told me that you were dead…”

He tightened his grip on you and his beard tickled your neck. “No, no, cyare. I’m right here. I’m okay. Maker, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

You swallowed thickly. “Me too.”

You gave him the best kiss you could with how cold it was. As soon as his lips met yours, it was like something inside you exploded and it was no longer cold anymore. He nudged your nose with his.

“I missed you, Mesh’la.”

You scoffed. “You have no idea, Mayday.”

His expression turned playful. “Perhaps you should show me, then.”

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Hi, do you still take x reader requests?? If you do, I was wanting a Phantom x reader/Y/N (she/they pronouns) and maybe Y/N got kidnapped by a rival being and he shows up rescue Y/N? Possessive Phantom is one of my favorite ideas, and he’s barely, just barely by a thread holding back from going full on eldritch being on the kidnappers + the rival. Maybe Phantom comforts Y/N afterwards too?

Call me Cos :D (for anon, I’ll be space anon if that isn’t taken)

Well, I do so love my body horror, so I'll admit that I kinda went further than that "just barely by a thread" part. . .

(This is based on a set of headcanons I posted a while ago; go here if you'd like to see them.)

Sorry this took so long, but it's finally finished! I hope you enjoy it!

(Trigger Warnings: violence, body horror, eyes, teeth, mentions of snakes, mentions of insects, implied kidnapping, implied illegal business, talk of death/dying, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.) 

___

“I’m really not sure what you’re hoping to gain from this,” you announced, resting your cheek against one hand as you looked out at the world through the bars of the cage. 

Your captor—an admittedly stunning woman with a halo of crystals orbiting around the golden points of a crown protruding from her silvery hair—hummed thoughtfully.

“Not too much, if I’m being honest,” she answered with a dismissive shrug.

You quirked a brow, straightening your back a little. It was difficult to look her in the eyes; they glowed with undeniable power. The most piercing, dangerous, otherworldly shade of blue you’d ever seen. 

Your brain was begging you to focus on something else. Anything else, really. The room outside your cage was extravagant, boasting marble floors and looming pillars and filigree carvings on the walls. Everything was inlaid with blue gemstones in some way. Even your cage, nestled in the corner, was polished and decorated to perfection.  

But you still made a valiant attempt to keep eye-contact. You couldn’t just let her think you were some shrinking violet. 

“Then why did you bring me here in the first place? Why did you bother to just wait in my mirror until I finally got home?”

The Multiverse Monarch took a few steps closer to further scrutinize you. 

“Why does anyone do anything?” She responded. “Why do you mortals insist on making sacrifices, traveling to places you’ve never seen before, crossing bridges that don’t even exist yet?”

“Because we’ll eventually get paid for it,” you replied. “Or, we all hope to, at least.” 

Monarch blinked, a small snicker forcing its way through her teeth. She quickly shook her head, engaging in the rolling-your-eyes-with-your-whole-body gesture. 

“Because it’s there,” she stated in the most matter-of-fact tone you’d ever heard. “Because it’s just something to do. Something to temporarily keep your little lives from continuing to be mundane as fuck.”

You hummed at the explanation. There was definitely some truth to it, but you thrived on sarcasm. You couldn’t help that; it was a survival mechanism. “I feel like doing any kind of business with Phantom already pretty far from ‘mundane as fuck.’ I almost ended up being one of his contractors when we first met, and now look where I stand with him.”  

Monarch tilted her head to the side, folding her arms across her chest. “That kind of thing happens with a lot of dealmakers and potential clients. Much more frequently than you’d think. Don’t feel special.”

“I never said I felt special,” you argued. And now it was your turn to smirk, since it was so obvious that you and Monarch were now thinking the same thing. 

Phantom was many, many things. And one of them was, so simply, shady as they came. However, he could also be honest when the mood suited him. 

When the two of you had first met, he’d seen you as just another soul with enough potential and enough need of supernatural assistance to be considered for his collection. You, on the other hand, had long-since honed your instincts to sense ulterior motives. And at that point in time, you’d been, for lack of a better word, tired. 

Before that point, you’d been stepped on and laughed at and criticized so. Many. Damn. Times. 

You’d gotten tired of that. 

You’d gotten tired of trying so hard and putting out so much and only getting a few breadcrumbs here and there to show for it. 

You’d gotten so tired that it was miracle you’d even bothered to read Phantom’s contract in its entirety. 

And even with the potential consequences literally written down right in front of you. . .you’d been tired enough to not care.

So what if your soul became the property of an eldritch abomination?

At least you’d get some time to finally enjoy a few things before that. 

You’re not sure what Phantom saw in your tiredness. Hell, you’d flat-out asked him before, and he hadn’t been able to give you a clear answer himself. But that was just it: he’d seen something that he wanted to keep. Not just for his collection, but. . .

Well, Phantom had been quiet for most of that particular meeting, mainly relying on his elevator pitch for small talk as you read through the requirements and expectations. When you took hold on his feather quill, he went silent. He’d stayed silent as you hesitated. You’d felt his eyes boring holes through your skull. And just as you were about to sign your name on the dotted line, Phantom had yanked the contract away, insisting that he needed to make a few updates to it. 

The rest, as they say, is history.

“Plus,” you added. “I’ve heard all about the spats the two of you have gotten into. And when you combine those with the business angle of things. . .I mean, I’m not sure what to call it, but it’s still not mundane at all. Isn’t that enough?”

“You’ve only heard about those spats from his perspective,” Monarch snarked. Insanity glinted in her eyes. A buzzing, humming, keening music suddenly stabbed its way into your ears, and you finally had to look away from her, ducking your head and kneading at your temples. 

More footsteps clicked closer, and a cold hand was suddenly grasping your chin, slowly forcing you to look back up. 

Her eyes. . .they looked even less human than before. Now they were compound, seeming to shudder in their sockets as that frightening blue light glowed brighter and brighter. 

A pair of long, sinuous antennae now protruded from her forehead, covered in a network of crystalline veins. They reached down to lightly tap against your scalp, making that unearthly music reverberate in your skull. 

“And enough is ภєשєг єภ๏ยﻮђ,” she concluded, allowing you to catch a glimpse of something shuffling about between the rows of her teeth. “ภєשєг ђคร ๒єєภ, ภєשєг ฬเɭɭ ๒є.”

“MONARCH!” A familiar voice suddenly shouted from somewhere outside of the throne room. . .or, it had to be outside the throne room, at least. But then, that voice shouldn’t have been echoing and bouncing around the corners with such violence. “I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!”

Not if it was a human’s voice, that is. 

And that’s why you immediately recognized it. You’d been hearing it almost every day for a good couple years now, after all.

You’d been waiting to hear it today.

“I know you know,” Monarch called back, only slightly raising her own tone as a smirk played at her lips. She released her grip on your chin, strolling away from your cage to settle down onto her throne. “That’s what makes this kind of stuff so fun.”

What sounded like a Category 5 earthquake slammed against the towering side-by-side doors that waited across the room. The thunderous sound was followed by a cacophony of screeching, like razor-sharp claws being dragged across ornate wood and stone.

“Well, if we’re going with that logic,” Phantom seethed from wherever he was, “then you also know that if you don’t bring [Y/N] out here right now, I swear I’ll 𐍂𐍊Ƥ 𐍈𐍁𐨠 𐌴𐌰ζ𐌷 𐍈𐍆 𐌸𐍈𐍁𐍂 𐐎𐍊𐍀𐌾Ⲋ 𐍈𐍀𐌴-𐌱𐌸-𐍈𐍀𐌴!"

Phantom’s pitch seemed to warp like metal, now twisting and rattling in the air. It gave the impression of a hissing, growling, churning well; like he was speaking through multiple people—or multiple monsters, really—at once.

“And I’ll just grow replacements for them,” Monarch replied, examining her fingernails, looking extremely cool and collected someone who was facing promises of dismemberment. “If you’re gonna threaten me, then maybe aim for something that’ll be more difficult to recover.” 

Another shockwave pounded against the doors from the other side. The entire room shook; you could feel the floor vibrating through your shoes for a long moment. 

Phantom’s voice hummed, shifting from ferocious anger to vicious mockery in a heartbeat. “Like those clones of yours?”

You craned your neck to glance at Monarch through the cage’s bars. You had to bite down a chuckle at the way she stiffened; if there was one thing you and Phantom had bonded over, it was the art of schadenfreude. 

“My clones are scattered across the multiverse,” Monarch contended. “It would take you at least six-thousand-nine-hundred years for you to find all of them!”

She let out an icy snicker that made your spine want to crawl its way out of your back and go somewhere a little more quiet. “ץ๏ย’гє คɭгєค๔ץ ђคɭŦ-รєภเɭє; รђ๏ยɭ๔ภ’Շ ๒є Շ๏๏ ɭ๏ภﻮ ๒єŦ๏гє ץ๏ย’гє คɭɭ Շђє ฬคץ Շђєгє.” 

“Oh, now you’re in for it,” you murmured. Though the speculation was mainly to yourself, you had no doubts that your captor could hear you.

An animalistic roar echoed through the walls, and the doors shook in their frame yet again. This time, the boom was accentuated by the undeniable call of something shattering. 

“𐍊 ꡕ𐌰𐌸 𐌱𐌴 𐐎𐌴ࠋࠋ-𐍈ⱱ𐌴𐍂 𐌰 𐨠𐌷𐍈𐍁Ⲋ𐌰𐍀Ɗ, 𐌱𐍁𐨠 𐍊 𐌰ꡕ 𐍀𐍈𐨠 Ⲋ𐌴𐍀𐍊ࠋ𐌴!”

The latest tremor lingered, not just fading away like the last two strikes. You subconsciously held onto the bars in a white-knuckled grip.

Phantom knew you were here; he wouldn’t make Monarch’s entire palace collapse if it meant the risk of you getting crushed in the rubble. Despite your trust in him, your instincts were on still fire now, screaming that the floor was absolutely going to cave in beneath you at any second.

Phantom spoke up again, dripping with surreal danger. “What about all the souls you’ve gathered? What if I set my sights on those, Moth? They aren’t exactly easy to replace. We both now that better than anyone.”

Monarch stood on her throne, her movement too fluid and quick to be natural. The entire lower-half of her face seemed to have eroded away. Smooth, human-esquse flesh had been replaced by the mandibles you’d seen earlier. They shuddered and snapped, making an odd, almost musical chittering noise.

And right above them. . .her eyes. . .

Her eyes had grown disturbingly wide, rolling around in her head as each of the hexagonal units adorning either of them reflected everything around her. You could see yourself in the corner of them. She was still watching you as much as she was watching Phantom through the doors. 

Her antennae now almost resembled crooked swords, twitching so violently that it was a wonder how her crown stayed in place. 

The lights of the room flickered, growing dark and insidious. The temperature automatically dropped through several degrees; goosebumps prickled over every square-inch of your skin. Your senses were so shocked by the change that you almost didn’t notice the awful chorus of stretching and tearing that coiled through the room. 

By the time you finally looked back at Monarch, you choked on air. 

Her fair skin and silvery locks had just finished practically ripping themselves apart to make way for. . .not bones, perse. An exoskeleton: a shining, jagged, horrific carapace that looked like it was molded from liquefied diamonds. 

The woman was gone.

An enormous insectoid monster stood in her place. 

It was like nothing you’d ever seen before (which was saying something, since you’d seen quite a lot thanks to your relationship with Phantom). 

As though you were looking at the impossible result of a mythical threesome between a primordial praying mantis, spider, and butterfly.  

Far, far too many long, spindly, dagger-like legs and clutching, serrated claws to count. 

At the center of them all was a glowing abdomen that trembled with every breath Monarch took. It ended in a glittering stinger that would make even the world’s sharpest harpoon look like a toothpick. 

Her mandibles were now large enough to easily decapitate you with one bite. Each time they moved, an otherworldly chittering rhythm leaked out.

Four billowing wings as vast and blue as a trench in the ocean, covered in organized lines of piercing eye-spots.

No. . .those weren’t spots. 

Honest-to-fucking-goodness eyes.

And they were still keeping some focus on you. 

Monarch snarled. Against all odds, her voice remained soft. When it mixed with that chittering, however, the sound felt like needles. “ץ๏ย ๔๏ภ'Շ ђคשє Շђє ภєгשє.”

And with that, the doors finally buckled, flying off their hinges to embed themselves in the walls. 

A haze of heat and terrifying energy swept into the room, followed an instant later by another abomination. 

Despite the anxiety prying at your ribs, you still managed to smile. You even felt butterflies in your stomach.

Phantom was here. He’d come to take you back home.

At first, he seemed to be a sentient, slow-moving tornado of smoke. With your personal experience, you knew that he was simply wearing that fog sort of like a cloak. 

As more and more of his true form rippled into the throne room, as all the smoke sliced around him, you could easily see the shapes of bones that all fit together to form a colossal serpentine skeleton. 

A vast array of organs writhed further inside the seemingly endless ribcage, glowing similarly to the embers at the bottom of a firepit. 

That glow had absolutely nothing on Phantom’s eyes, however. 

Then again, you weren’t sure if you could really call them eyes. 

The sockets in his triangle-shaped head emitted spiraling plumes of fire. Beneath them, a maw filled to the brim with serrated fangs; the largest ones dripped with luminescent venom that sizzled as it hit the marble floors. A long, forked black tongue flicked in and out between all those teeth like a party favor. 

So, in short: the richest, purest form of nightmare fuel for anyone with ophidiophobia. . .well, almost. Two arms (only two at the moment. You knew more could be summoned and then retracted at a second’s notice) jutted out from his sides, each ending in a clutch of five talons.

And there was something peculiar pinched between two of those talons. 

“𐨠𐍂𐌸 ꡕ𐌴,” Phantom hissed as he raised his arm to show it off. 

It was spherical in shape, almost looking like one of those pretty glass marbles that always seemed to be in antique stores for whatever reason. 

But you knew better. 

The longer you started at it, the more it seemed to bounce—no, to pulse in the air. It gleamed with a soft, warm, colorful light. A living light. 

That was someone’s soul. 

You’d seen Phantom handling souls before, but those all had been his (technically) legal property, having been signed over to him by his clients. 

Judging by the way Monarch screamed as Phantom tossed it for his other talons to catch, this one had to be part of her collection. 

“𐍊𐨠'Ⲋ 𐍂𐌴𐌰ࠋࠋ𐌸 Ⲋ𐍊ꡕƤࠋ𐌴, ꡕ𐍈𐨠𐌷. . .” Phantom put a little more pressure on the soul in his grasp. It responded via turning a darker shade, almost partially deflating like a smoker’s lung. “𐌸𐍈𐍁 𐨠𐌰𐌺𐌴 Ⲋ𐍈ꡕ𐌴𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌾 𐍆𐍂𐍈ꡕ ꡕ𐌴, 𐌰𐍀Ɗ 𐍊 𐨠𐌰𐌺𐌴 Ⲋ𐍈ꡕ𐌴𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌾 𐍆𐍂𐍈ꡕ 𐌸𐍈𐍁.”

Monarch bristled. For a brief, horrible moment, you worried that she would reach over and clamp the cage to crush it around you like a soda can. 

You’d heard stories of her power. As far as you knew, she was one of few beings strong enough to have a stalemate with Phantom. 

The two of them stared at one another for what felt like hours. 

“คภ๔ ץ๏ย คɭฬคץร รคץ ՇђคՇ ๏Շђєг קє๏קɭє ςคภ'Շ Շคкє ן๏кєร,” Monarch accused, clicking her mandibles. She then let out an acidic sigh. “Ŧเภє. ﻮเשє ՇђคՇ ๏ภє ๒คςк Շ๏ ๓є, คภ๔ ץ๏ย ςคภ ђคשє ץ๏ยгร.”

“𐍀𐍈,” Phantom snapped. “𐌸𐍈𐍁 𐌾𐍊ⱱ𐌴 𐨠𐌷𐌴ꡕ 𐌱𐌰ζ𐌺 𐍆𐍊𐍂Ⲋ𐨠.”

Monarch hissed, leaning back, tensing up.

“How about you both move at the same time?” You called out, having finally reclaimed your voice. 

Both of the crimes against nature swiveled their heads in your direction. One part of you instinctually wanted to curl into a ball. The other part stood firm. 

No matter how terrifying Phantom was, no matter how much of a psychological hurdle it always was for you to see him in his true form like this. . .you still knew that he cared about you. He just wanted to keep you safe, to have you stay by his side. Once you were with him again, everything would be fine. 

He and Monarch side-eyed each other. 

One of Monarch’s legs reached over, clutching at the door to the cage. Simultaneously, Phantom pushed his talons, the soul still in his grasp, toward his rival. 

Then, less than a second later, they moved in tandem. 

As Phantom passed that unfortunate soul back to its owner, there was suddenly a gaping hole in the middle of the bars. You sprinted out and across the throne room, just barely managing to not trip over that long blue carpet. 

Phantom met you halfway, one clutch of talons hovering behind you, gently pushing you to stand closer to him. He lowered his skull, angling it to keep his fangs away as you leaned against him, stretching your arms in an awkward attempt to hug him.

“Շђєгє, รєє? ՇђคՇ ฬครภ'Շ ร๏ ђคг๔,” Monarch piped back up. You didn’t look at her, but you could guess at the snide grin slowly-but-surely spreading over her mandibles. Was this part of the adrenaline rush, or. . .whatever she’d been after? “คɭฬคץร ฬเՇђ Շђє ๔гค๓คՇเςร.” 

“𐌸𐍈𐍁'𐍂𐌴 𐍈𐍀𐌴 𐨠𐍈 𐍆𐍁ζ𐌺𐍊𐍀𐌾  𐨠𐌰ࠋ𐌺,” Phantom growled, holding you closer. You could see his horrific excuse for a heart thrashing and shifting through various colors unlike any you’d ever seen on Earth. “𐍊'ꡕ 𐌾𐍈𐍀𐍀𐌰 𐍂𐌴ꡕ𐌴ꡕ𐌱𐌴𐍂 𐨠𐌷𐍊Ⲋ 𐐎𐌷𐌴𐍀 𐍈𐍁𐍂 𐍀𐌴𑀌𐨠 ꡕ𐌴𐌴𐨠𐍊𐍀𐌾 ζ𐍈ꡕ𐌴Ⲋ 𐌰𐍂𐍈𐍁𐍀Ɗ. ʝ𐍁Ⲋ𐨠  𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌺 𐌰𐌱𐍈𐍁𐨠 𐨠𐌷𐌰𐨠."