#guess who's building a timeline again

[pandasaurio-espacial]

Currently reading Silence of the Lambs like

[kkoct-ik]

the lesser known did symptom of not knowing anything about your life because not only do you not remember anything (and the memories you Do have are heavily fragmented so you have no idea when they occured), but you also consistently destroy all traces of yourself during dissociative episodes. rip every diary ive tried to keep and almost every social media account. i will never know what i got up to or who i was during those years

i have a spreadsheet i use for documenting memories that turn up before i can forget them again. where i also do my best to estimate what year or season or month they came from. but its all just such a mess. even 2021 onwards which are supposed to be my therapy years are very very patchy. i wish i could just know my life

[clambuoyance]

[Lovesquare Au]

Part 0 || Next >>

I watched the mlb movie and caught up w the show so I got au brainrot again 💀 My first post was more silly and had smaller snippets but somehow I got carried away and ended up drawing a lot more than the first time around. I’ll post it in parts tho so I don’t overload one post 🙏

In short, Tim -> likes Conner…but is fond of Superboy? Kon -> likes Robin, but has gotten to know Tim a lot better.

And the timeline/world for this au is a big mishmash of 90s comics/ROTS movie/TT03/2000s comics and headcanons, so in summary for backstory for this post especially:

Superboy - during Superman’s death, he was created at Cadmus (w funding from Lex) and told he was Superman’s clone, even if he is a lot younger and different. Like the comics/my headcanon, he is fascinated by the celebrity life and Lex who promised him he’d be as great as Superman, assigned him Rex Leech who would be his personal agent/pr manager/etc. Lex was kind of like…his funder and sponsor that promoted him as the guy that would give new hope in Supermans absence.

Flash forward to Superman’s return, he decides to go on a world tour/become disillusioned with celebrity life until Clark comes and takes him to the farm and suggests he lives as Conner Kent to get away from the likes of people like Lex and Rex lol. So he’s not connected to them by contract anymore but he will do things out of obligation (like being a bodyguard at a party)

In this au, Lex doesn’t know Conner is Superboy either, and he hasn’t told Kon to what extent he was involved in Kon’s creation (yet…) but he’s hinted at it before

Tim - in this au, he’s also been operating as Robin for a longer time but is recently dealing with also becoming Tim Drake-Wayne and preparing to become the possible successor to Bruce Wayne’s company so that’s why he’s at this fancy party 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ I haven’t quite decided how much of his backstory to adapt to this au specifically but he becomes Robin in a similar way as his debut with becoming Robin bc he sees that Batman is lost without one and Batman needs a Robin. By the time this au starts he’s gone to different schools and I guess is going to a new one where Conner is also attending? Also his parents are now dead in this 😔 and he’s very secretive compared to Superboy and is the one that attaches more weight to a secret identity

they somehow go to the same school idk don’t worry about it i throw logic out the window in this regard for my silly lovesquare shenanigans 🫡 the World building isn’t the main focus it’s just a backdrop to their dynamic anyways . Here. Take my cringe.

[asidian]

I nattered on about this a while back as an addendum to one of my other posts, but it got a little lost since it was a reblog, and the idea of it's stuck with me, so I wanted to come back to it again and expand on it a little.

One of the major themes of Dead Boy Detectives is that the good you do comes back around.

It surfaces and resurfaces throughout the series. The instances in the final episode are the most spelled out for the viewer, but there's one example that lives at the very heart of the show that isn't quite so obvious on first glance.

When Charles dies, Edwin is newly returned from hell. The show doesn't specify the timeline aside from that he escapes hell in the same year he meets Charles, 1989, but overcoming that much trauma within a year is a big ask any way you slice it. He's spent seventy years in survival mode. He's got to be a wreck, still.

At this point, he hasn't had time to develop any complicated leniency schemes to keep himself out of hell. Certainly their detective agency hasn't been formed yet. It comes later, in 1990.

For the entire rest of the series, Edwin has a least a partial ulterior motive for the good he does. He takes on cases and tries to make an impact for their clients at least in part so that he can build himself up such a shield of decency that if he ever gets dragged back to hell, he can try to plead his case. He's so ashamed of this that he doesn't admit it out loud until he's forced to by magic.

But when he meets Charles, none of that plan is in place yet. Here he hasn't taken the time to sit down and work out a plan at all. Here the agency doesn't even exist.

He sees this boy in the attic, beaten and freezing and huddling in a corner, and he comes to offer the only thing he thinks he can: light.

And when he realizes he can give more than that – when he realizes that Charles can see him, and what that means – he stays and gives more. Comfort, and kindness, and company, in the very darkest hour of all.

He takes one look at how battered Charles is, and he tells him, "I shan't hurt you."

And it is a big deal.

Arguably this one line is the very best thing he could have said to Charles in this situation, and Edwin, who struggles with people, who has spent seventy years in hell, who is still trying to sort through his own trauma, takes one look at this boy who has been beaten soon-to-be to death, and he knows that intuitively.

And to Charles? It must have meant everything. Charles has spent his entire life trying to be good enough. He smiles and struggles to please. He does the best he can for whoever he can, and for his entire life, it has never been enough. He's been hurt, over and over again, for failing to live up to his father's impossible standards or guess at his impossible rules. His so-called friends turned on him and murdered him for trying to keep them from hurting someone else.

He's on the verge of tears, alone in the dark, dying.

And then Edwin steps up carrying the metaphorical and literal light in the darkness, and one of the very first things he ever says is, "I shan't hurt you."

That's the baseline. That offer comes when Charles isn't putting on a show. He's not being brave, or strong, or charming. He's hiding in a corner, quietly freezing to death. But here comes this boy anyway, with a light in the darkness and a promise not to hurt him.

It's a moment of simple, honest kindness – of Edwin doing good because he sees someone and he wants to help.

And to Charles, it makes such an impact that he gives up his afterlife for this boy. He spends the next thirty years stepping in front of things that would do him harm. He keeps the lantern and brings it with him, when he comes to save Edwin from hell.

It's that very first moment of kindness, in the attic, that sets into motion the events that result in Edwin's rescue.

That one moment of genuine good, with no furtive selfish side intentions, comes back around to save him. He only knows Charles at all because he stopped to help. Charles only didn't pass on to his afterlife because Edwin was there for him.

And then, all those years later, Charles sets out like Orpheus down into hell to get his best mate back.

That good has come around again. That light in the darkness, literally and figuratively both, is there for him in his lowest moment because he offered it to someone else when they desperately needed it.

And that's beautiful.

[gothcsz]

part seven of the neighbors series. oh jeez, we are back at it again with another heart wrenching part to this building series. don't ask me where in the timeline this lands because i don't even know—all i do know is that this one hurt me a little more than the others 🖤 as always, thank you to the beautiful anon who sent in this prompt. i love love love creating this with you all 🖤

javier peña x f!reader. ~2k word count. again, nothing too extreme to tag!

“Guess who won dos entradas al cine?” (two tickets to the movie theatre) you sing-song as you approach Javier, a pair of ticket vouchers held triumphantly in your hand and a wide grin lighting up your face. 

Javier looks up from where he’s seated on the edge of the courtyard fountain, the familiar ember of a cigarette glowing between his lips. He narrows his eyes behind his tinted aviators, giving you that signature blend of teasing skepticism. “Who’d you have to flash to get those?” 

You roll your eyes and drop onto the fountain beside him, the cool stone beneath you a welcome reprieve from the heat of the day. “I am offended that you think I’d flash someone for movie tickets.” You cross your legs as you say it, the move shifting the hem of your work dress just high enough to reveal the soft curve of your thighs beneath sheer stockings.

Javier’s gaze dips immediately, a slow drag of his eyes over your legs before his tongue sweeps across his lower lip.

He knows he should stop. Should keep his admiration of you in check. But he can’t. You’re too pretty to not gawk over.

You’re oblivious, like you always are, as you hold the tickets up again, completely lost in your own excitement. “We had this silly competition in the office, and these bad boys were up for grabs.” Your voice is bright and animated, and it’s all he can do not to focus entirely on how alive you look when you’re happy.  

A plume of smoke curls into the air as he exhales, buying himself time. “So, what movie are you gonna go see?” 

You falter for a moment, your confidence dimming ever so slightly as you hesitate. Your teeth catch your lower lip in a nervous habit he’s seen a dozen times and never fails to find endearing, and you glance at him from under your lashes.

That look alone could kill him.

“I’m not sure… actually,” you admit, your voice softening as you toy with the edge of the tickets. The question sits on the tip of your tongue, uncertain.

Is it a good idea to ask him? It’s been weeks since the two of you had a moment to really do anything outside of these stolen midday chats or rushed exchanges in the hallways.

You miss the ease that used to exist between you, but what if he doesn’t feel the same? 

After Javier’s little episode in your apartment during your date, things seem to have settled into a steady, almost predictable rhythm. You’d thought about asking Mateo to join you for this outing, but he’s away on some business trip for the next two weeks.

Things between you two are fine—casual, a few small dates here and there, nothing to write home about. It’s enough to keep your head above water, to keep romantic daydreams about the handsome DEA agent next door from completely taking over. 

You haven’t heard much from Javier’s side of the wall lately either. No muffled moans or the rhythmic creak of his bed frame emphasizing his nocturnal activities.

Out of sight, out of mind, you tell yourself. If you don’t hear him entertaining half of Bogotá, your feelings for him can stay dormant, tucked neatly into the recesses of your heart.

So, you figure it’s harmless to ask him to go to the theater with you this weekend. Friends catch movies together all the time, right? Besides, his life is unpredictable—he could get called into some crisis at a moment’s notice. No pressure.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come with me,” you ask, your voice soft but hopeful. “We can pick the movie when we get there.”

The way you ask, with that shy, almost hesitant charm, makes Javier’s heart do a ridiculous flip. He has to school his expression, keep his face neutral so he doesn’t show just how much your offer delights him. His instinct to tease nearly ruins the moment, though—he’s this close to asking about your little banker boyfriend. 

But instead, he soaks in the fact that it’s him you’re asking, not Mateo.

Whatever the reason, the thought of spending an evening with you—even if it’s just watching a movie—makes him feel like a giddy teenager, like the crush he’s been nursing forever has finally acknowledged him.  

“Makin’ time for me in that busy schedule of yours? I’m flattered, cariño. That sounds like a good time. I’m in,” he replies, taking a slow drag of his cigarette to mask the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You light up instantly, a bright smile spreading across your face. “Tú eres el que siempre está ocupado,” (You're the one who is always busy) you tease, testing the waters with your Spanish.

He huffs a quiet laugh, his dark eyes glinting with approval. “Tienes razón,” (You're right) he concedes, tipping his head in acknowledgment. “You’re gettin’ better and better. Pretty soon, you’re gonna be speakin’ better than me.”

Your cheeks heat at the compliment, and you can’t help the nervous giggle that slips out. “Highly doubt that, but thank you. How does Friday night sound? Meet me in the hallway at six?”

Javier tilts his head, feigning confusion as his brows knit together. “Lo siento, no hablo inglés, ¿puedes repetirlo?” (I'm sorry, I don't speak English. Could you repeat that?)

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, playfully narrowing your eyes at him as you pause to get your words right. “Encuéntrame en el pasillo a las seis el viernes,” (Meet me in the hallway at six on Friday) you say carefully, hoping you nailed the grammar.

His lips curve into a proud smile, his mustache twitching as he nods in approval. “Te veré allí. Good job, cariño.” (I'll see you there)

It’s almost eight when you knock on Javier’s door, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you wait.

Maybe he got tied up with work—God knows his job has a way of swallowing him whole.

Or maybe it just slipped his mind, which wouldn’t surprise you either; he does have a lot on his plate these days. 

Still, you’d been looking forward to this little outing, putting a little extra effort into your outfit, remembering all the little things that had happened to you during the week to share with him so he could get a good laugh out of them.

You wait a moment longer, but there’s no answer. A small pout tugs at your lips, disappointment sinking in. You tell yourself you saw this coming. It’s Javier, after all—unpredictable, chaotic Javier. You shouldn’t take it personally. 

But the tiny sting of hurt manages to land on that sore spot in your chest with his name tattooed over it. 

It’s okay, you think, pushing the feeling down. You’ll just reschedule. No big deal. It’s not like you don’t have other things to do—there’s that crossword book you picked up earlier to practice writing your Spanish. A quiet evening in doesn’t sound so bad. You’ll catch him later, maybe tease him for standing you up. 

You’ve barely turned the knob on your apartment door when the sound of laughter fills the air—a warm, familiar chuckle that makes your heart leap.

You freeze, turning toward the sound, your excitement flaring to life at the prospect of your plans not being canceled after all.

But the flicker of hope is short-lived. 

The door to the building swings open, and there he is, an arm wrapped possessively around the waist of a stunning woman. She’s tall, effortlessly beautiful with her curly brown hair, her laughter lilting as his lips graze her neck.

Your stomach drops.  

So he hadn’t forgotten because of work. He’d just… forgotten about you. Or chosen not to remember. The realization sears through you, twisting in your chest.

You feel rooted in place, unable to look away as your mind scrambles to catch up. 

Then his eyes find yours.  

The world seems to grind to a halt. Everything else fades—the woman on his arm, the noise of the building, even the ache in your chest.

All that exists is the intensity of his gaze locked with yours. His flirty, careless smile vanishes, replaced by something you can’t quite name. Guilt? Regret?  

It doesn’t matter.  

You wrench yourself away, slipping into your apartment before he can say anything. The door closes with a soft click, and you sag against it, chest heaving as you fight to steady your breath. Your eyes sting, but you refuse to let the tears fall.  

It’s not just that he stood you up. That’s not what makes the embarrassment swell in your throat. It’s that you’d been excited to spend time with him.

That you put in effort to your appearance, that you saved specific topics to discuss solely with him.

You’d allowed yourself to believe that your friendship mattered as much to him as it does to you.

But now, standing here with your heart feeling scraped raw, you’re starting to see it for what it is: your friendship only exists when it’s convenient for him. When there’s no one else in his bed, when he’s not risking his life in the streets.  

You bite down hard on your lip, willing the tears to stay put. You won’t cry for him. Not tonight. Not again.

Like clockwork, three steady knocks land against the door, each one reverberating through your back as you stay pressed against it. You don’t move, your hands curled into fists at your sides.

Should you answer? Or let him stand out there, forgotten as easily as he forgot you?

Your jaw tightens, anger sparking to life in your chest. It tempts you to yank the door open and unleash every ounce of frustration, to scream at him until your voice gives out, until he feels the intensity of all the feelings he stirs inside you.  

But you don’t.  

Instead, you straighten your posture, brushing away the stubborn tears that slipped past your defenses. You take a steadying breath, clearing your throat before finally opening the door.  

“Hola, Javier,” you greet, your tone clipped and flat.  

There he stands, every bit the picture of remorse. His brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, and his hands are shoved in his pockets like he’s trying to make himself smaller. “Cariño, I’m so sorry,” he starts, his voice low and rushed. “I got hung up at the office, then had to go out and vet some leads we got—”  

“It’s okay,” you cut him off with a tight smile. “It happens.”  

He flinches at your tone, guilt etched across his face. It’s written in the way his shoulders slump, the way his mouth opens and closes as if searching for the right thing to say. He knows he screwed up. Knows he let you down.  

The truth? He had forgotten. At first, it was the chaos of his job pulling him in a dozen directions, then following up on a tip from Helena.

But when they met at their usual spot, the drinks came easily—too easily. Her attention had been familiar, her touch comforting, and one thing led to another, as it always did with her. He hadn’t thought about anything else until he walked into the building and saw you.  

Until your wide, hurt eyes locked onto his and knocked the breath right out of him.  

“I’m free all day tomorrow,” he says now. “We can reschedule. I’ll even take you out to dinner to make it up to you.”  

There’s something so damn sincere in the way he looks at you, the way his tone drips with regret, that for a split second, you almost cave. Almost.  

But then you remember what’ll happen as soon as he leaves. He’ll go back to his apartment and you’ll have to hear him fuck her.

“No, Javier. Don’t worry about it,” you say firmly, each word clear with resolve. “I’ve got a busy weekend.” It’s a lie, but it feels necessary, a barrier to protect what little dignity you have left.

“Have fun vetting your lead.” You let the words hit their mark.

His expression falters, and you see the exact moment the weight of them sinks in, his lips parting as if to respond, to defend himself, to say something. But you don’t give him the chance.

With a steady hand, you close the door in his face.

The soft click of the latch is louder than it should be, final and resolute. You lean against the wood, staring blankly ahead as the quiet settles around you.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, the fiery ache of anger and something sharper—betrayal—coiling in your chest.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @thundermartini . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @samanthajonees . @yellowbrickyeti . @bambisweethearts . @dontlookatme121 . @cherrysugarx . @half-moon16 . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .

[silliewrites]

If I could save time in a bottle...

summary: [Platonic Logan Howlett x gn!reader/ famillial dynamics} After the passing of your parent figure some years ago, your friend Wade comes back from a deadly mission with a replica of him. You also soon learn that someone that is definitely not Wade has something to do with the mess that is currently the resting place of that loved one. Finally, you and the ‘worst’ Wolverine find you are on the road to healing together.

wc: 3.4k

warnings: angst and comfort, grief, strong language, brief mention of child death (in worst! Logan's universe), spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine as well as Logan (2017), the bye bye bye scene is treated as grave desecration (which i mean,it is… but reader is naturally gonna see nothing humorous about it)

a/n: This is a bit of a mess because I never write, yet I have so many feelings and thoughts I had to do something with them. Not having seen a platonic fic of this kind anywhere I guess I had to make one. Also..I did some basic research on the general deadpool canon yet..I’m not entirely informed, having not watched deadpool 2… let’s hope for the best

--------------

 You used to be the youngest student in the X mansion back in the day, just a child having mutated under life altering circumstances, the usual. 

 It was Logan who found you. He was your rock during and after the traumatizing event of your mutation, taking you in and placing you in the arms of the X-men and thanks to him they became your family.

 You saw him no less than as a father. Despite his brooding, harsh exterior it was never difficult for you to see that he cared.

 He never shot you down when you knocked on his door in the middle of the night, sobbing after another brutal nightmare. He took you seriously when you talked about your fears and worries. He saved you and helped you stand on your feet more times than you could count.

 Seeing death and bad things happen to your family of mutants always hurt viciously but when Logan died it felt like something you would never get over.

  With your abilities generally under control, you chose to avoid actively partaking in X men work (Not that you refused your assistance, if someone called for you specifically. It had better be very urgent though.)

 So you tried to find a rhythm of what resembled a normal life for the most part, a decent job and some good friends. That was what he would have wanted, no, said he wanted for you.

 You kept ties with Laura too, having bonded over your shared grief, the man having died in her arms after all. She was some years younger than you and you were happy to consider her a good friend, the younger sibling type.

 Some years ago she had disappeared, causing you yet another source of anxiety. Turns out she herself had been banished to the Void. The relief you felt when Wade came back from that limbo hell while managing to bring her back too, was immense. You have never hugged anyone tighter than Laura the day you saw her again.

 Speaking of Wade, through this and that, you had also become acquaintances. He had needed your assistance when he was forming his X force crew and you had hesitantly accepted, making it clear that this would be an one-time thing. 

 He seemed to be a "Wolverine fanboy" in his own words which caused him to bombard you with childish questions about him until you very firmly made him aware of your boundaries. There was a time and place to talk about Logan.

When that shitshow was over with, you did not mind him considering you your friend. Sure, he was a bit much for you, not a huge fan of his 'humor' but seeing him in moderation was not unpleasant…Alright, maybe you did enjoy his company and friendship, it was as simple as that.

  After a chat with him, you learned that the rent in his apartment building was relatively cheap for New York standards, so when it was time to move out of your previous place, that was where you went.

 Then the damn timeline thing happened. You were pretty confused as to how exactly the events played out, not being involved, thankfully. But the crazy fucker did it, he saved the universe from extinction apparently. And not exactly by himself.

 Logan was there. Not your Logan but apparently a variant of him was necessary to pull the mission off.

 And now that version of him was Wade's roommate. Great. Perfect. Definitely something easy for you to process in the days to come.

--------------

 You first saw them after the mission on your way to catch a cab to the airport. It was that time of the trimester when you were to visit him. Bleak yet you longed to see him and speak to him, even if he was resting under the earth. 

 Wade had the decency to explain everything to you once it was decided that Logan’s variant would be staying. He knew that you never really stopped grieving and you appreciated the warning that basically an almost exact replica of your dead father figure would now roam around your earth.

Almost exact, because according to Wade, this Logan was more of a dick, more crude and erratic, apparently rendered by his extra layers of grief and hatred. Partially understandable but you would not accept that as an excuse if he said something cruel in front of you, you would probably introduce him to your interesting mutative abilities. You let Wade know so that he could warn mr stick-up-his-ass. Wade more than happy to accept, still assured you that with the life or death mission being over, Logan was attempting to be more approachable.

 The feelings this new reality brewed in you were..mixed, to say the least.

 You made eye contact with Wade from across the street and of course he shot up from the bench he was sitting on, dropping his half eaten sandwich to the ground, moving his arms vigorously in the air, catching not only your attention but any other passerby's. 

 Even though your stomach turned at having to face the him, you wanted to check up on Wade after all this madness he went through. And on his friend as well, you supposed.

 You looked both ways before passing the street and before you knew it, Wade’s arms wrapped around your neck. You patted his back with one hand, unable to help the choking sounds that left you. 

 “It’s so good to see you, my little honey pumpkin bear!” He squealed excitedly while squeezing the dear life out of you. He really thought he’d never see his friends again, huh.

“Oof, yeah Wade, it’s really nice to see you too, please just-” You broke free of his hold and held an arm’s distance between the two of you. You patted his arm and gave him a small but genuine smile. “Really glad you’re ok. Not that I expected anything le-”

 Your words slowly died out when your gaze met Logan’s. He was sitting on the bench observing the interaction silently. He looked just like you remembered him, minus some differences. Well, obviously he was supposed to be the same person yet..he was not.

 He looked up at you, brows furrowed while his eyes scanned through your face before flashing with what seemed like recognition (Not that you knew what it was he was seeing) He seemed tense and his mouth gaped before he turned his attention to the ground. 

 Wade naturally noticed the uncomfortable tension between the two of you and he decided to chime in quickly.

“Ah, yes this is the Wolverine I had to kidnap to help me with the time ripper bullshit and oh boy, did he deliver!” 

 You kept your eyes on the Variant, forcing yourself into a polite smile (that resembled more of an awkward line) and you extended your hand to him, causing him to lift his gaze at you again.

“Nice to meet you...Logan. Thank you for your help with unscrewing our timeline” You said as pleasantly as you could and he took your hand after a moment of hesitation, shaking it with a gentle firm and a silent nod. 

His presence..It made your stomach turn. Feeling the threat of your vision getting watery, you quickly averted your gaze away from the two, as subtle as you could manage. 

“I..Wade, m’ sorry, would love to sit a bit more but I have to go-”

“Hey wait, tomorrow we’ll be having a get-together to celebrate the un-fuckery of the universe, a partEy if you will! Everyone will be there, Al will be making that terrible casserole you really like also!”

You gave him a melancholic smile, genuinely sad you would not be able to attend. Logan’s variant was back to looking at the ground.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I won’t make it, I’m afraid. I’m going to the airport right now actually, will be off for the next three days. Gotta see someone..”

“Ooooh” Wade whistled while wiggling his brows “and is that someone maybe a super hot sexy mysterious boyfriend? Or girlfriend? Or theyfriend? Or-” 

“Heh, nope. Nothing like that unfortunately.”

“Sure, sure, keep your secrets, you ankle biter, but promise to pass by the apartment once you’re back, we gotta catch up!”

You nodded. “Of course. See you then.” 

 Two days later you found yourself back in New York in a rush, in front of Wade’s apartment door, ready to invent a way that would actually exterminate him.

--------------

 Nothing prepared you for the mess you saw in what was supposed to be Logan’s resting place. 

 The snow had ceased completely. With a simple look his grave was undug and the makeshift X was missing. When you approached, the little fresh snow that had fallen last night was covering various types of debris. Some type of fight had taken place and someone had collected the bodies in a rush yet they did not bother with what you spotted after closer inspection and some digging with your hands. 

 Metallic looking appendages…These were…

You looked inside the open grave. The snow had barely covered the remains in there and it was obvious they were not even half of what they were supposed to be.

 You suppressed the violent urge to vomit. Someone had taken him out, violated his remains and as if in a haste, threw them back in.

 You dug through the snow with bare hands around the grave. A fragment here. A fragment there. The spine. What was left of the cranium. White hot rage.

You called Laura with shaking hands. Offended would be an understatement for how she sounded, as well, unaware of who could have possibly caused this. Why were you even calling her, poor girl was in the void for a while now, what could she possibly do or know?

You hung up with the intention of looking through the situation a bit more and catching her up later.

  While trying to stay calm and focusing all your mental energy on collecting, wiping and gently placing the remains back in the hole, it clicked.

 Wade. 

 From the few words you two had exchanged ever since he was back, you gathered he turned every stone to find “a Wolverine” to assist him. Yet you could not imagine what the everloving fuck would he defile your Wolverine’s grave for and what caused him to spread his bones all over like fucking confetti.

  You would not stand for this. Just because Wade saved the stupid timeline, he did not automatically become immune to the most extraordinary ass whooping of the century. If he had something to do with this, you would not forgive him easily, if at all

--------------

 After taking a deep breath, you rang the bell. Tapping your foot on the ground, you heard some mumbling and shuffling before the door opened.

 Wade made a surprised expression that resembled a caricature.

“Sweet baby cakes! You're back already? Come on in, I was just thinking about starting a gossip girl marathon. Again!”

 Wade's cheerful expression fell almost immediately when you stayed still for a moment too long, not responding.

 Althea did not seem to be home. Good.

 Wade's expression morphed into one of concern.

“Pumpkin, is everything-”

“Wade. Guess where I just came back from.”

You took a slow step forward, dropping you backpack to the floor.

“Erm..a male stripclub full of hot babes?”

“North Dakota.”

“Don't you say! Did North Dakota had any good male strip-” He stopped himself before realization hit him. “And..may I ask..what was it you were doing in North-”

“You know very well what.”

Wade put his hands in front of him defensively and closed the door. “Hey Pumpkin, why don't you just sit so that we can-”

“Shut. Up.” You whispered.

“When I got to his grave, someone had completely messed it up. Signs of fighting around. Do you happen to have anything to do with that?” You said in a dangerously low voice, eyes glued on him.

 Wade, whose mouth formed into an awkward line, clearly not having a reasonably enough excuse to give you.

“Er, you see, um remember when I was looking for a Logan, well I started my search with the OG, you know, just to make sure he was dead dead and unfortunately he was and um then you see err the TVA showed up and um-”

He stopped when you put your hands on your face, squeezing it while a muffled screech of rage escaped you. 

“You motherfucking, with no semblance of decency, insensitive prick. You defiled Logan's remains and used them as a shield, throwing them around like toys? And you have the nerve to come back home and look me in the eye after the fact? To look Laura in the eye? Do you not have any fucking shame? Am I simply an afterthought to you?”

Silence. You could not see through the tears. With shaky hands you pulled out of your pocket a tiny clothed item and you carefully unwrapped the cover to reveal a small metallic fragment.

“You may think everything's a fucking game but that man was my family, and worst part is you know this very damn well! How dare you!”

“You have every right to be angry, just let me-”

 You grabbed the first object you could reach, which was a half empty bottle of liquor and threw it across the room, causing it to smash angrily on the wall of the living room. Wade winced slightly before groaning in frustration.

With that, a bedroom shot open and an alarmed Logan variant made an appearance, claws already out.

“What the fuck is hap-”

 He stopped in his tracks seeing it was just you. He probably had already heard your yelling earlier yet it did not answer any questions about what was going on.

“What the hell, kid?” he said with a subtle hint of alarm.

 You take a step towards him, looking up at his face, paying no mind to his blades that were now retreating back inside. God, how it hurt to stare right into his features. Feeling a wave of nausea, you picked up your bag and turned your back to the two men.

 “Wait, can't we just talk about this?” Wade said

 “No, you ruined my week enough” You mumbled bitterly before exiting his apartment. Week, more like, year.

--------------

 The roof of the building was pretty nice, you always preferred it when you wanted some time to yourself outside the walls of your apartment. You rarely ever saw any other tenant there, especially in the late afternoons.

 This is where you found yourself that night, elbows supported on the railing, observing the busy street from above while sipping on bad beer.

 How you wished he was there right now. How you wished for one more simple moment with him, where you could just be in his presence once again, chat about nonsense or simply sit in comfortable silence next to him. 

 What would he think of you as the person you were trying to become? Would he be proud of you? 

 How you wished he would put his hand on your shoulder comfortingly right now.   

 You missed him. So much.

A high pitched creak came from the direction of the heavy door behind you, causing you to jump a little and instinctively wipe the fresh tears that you just then realized were running down your face.

 “Sorry, kid, did I scare you? They mustn't have oiled this door in fucking ever..” There was Logan, the new one. Whatever entity was reading your thoughts a moment prior must be finding your misery hilarious.

 “Hope I’m not bothering you”

 “No, no. I don’t own the rooftop..” You mumbled softly, turning your attention back on the street, trying to ignore the feeling of clear tension he brought with him. You swore to God, if he was about to make a crass comment..

 He came to stand next to you, mimicking the position of your elbows on the railing. He himself was holding a glass, filled with one most likely alcoholic liquid.

 “That asshole told me everything about the grave thing. If I were you, I would have torn him apart.”

 “I’m sure you already know this isn’t possible by any means”

 Logan huffed. “Oh, believe me, I do. I’ve tried at least three times”

 You gave a noncommittal nod, trying not to focus too much the gruff voice you always found so comforting.

 “...You know..You existed in my timeline too” He mumbled before gulping a generous sip of his drink.

 That made you look up at him, surprised. “I…did?”

“Oh, yes you did. Lively little brat you were.” He said with a laugh you could only describe as melancholic. He said it like it hurt.

“You went through so much for a child. And you did cry quite often ‘cause of it, yet you were still so..” He seized, taking a heavy breath and emptying his glass. “So full of life. A good kid.” The city lights reflecting on his eyes, making it easier for you to see how watery they were.

“I..assume I…”

You were interrupted by another one of those devastating low laughs that made your heart ache.

“Yeah. You were among them. Those fuckers did not even spare a fucking child. I was the one who got you with the X-men and it ended in..” He hissed through his teeth and half closed mouth. He took a moment to collect himself and breathed out.

“I’m so sorry, Logan.” You whispered genuinely. You didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t be, …sorry, didn't mean to make it about myself.”

“You didn’t, really!” 

 A moment of awkward silence before you decided to share your piece.

“My Logan, er, you..I suppose it’s more or less the same as it was in your world but..you were like a…You were the closest I ever felt to a parent. I grew up because of you and..yeah, when I was around 17, you died.” It was almost funny how much you oversimplified those statements but it was the best you could manage at the given moment.

 He nodded, listening intently.

“I’m sure that..If he saw how you grew into who you are today, doing your own thing, in spite of the mutation shit and all…he wouldn’t change a thing about how all these fucking events went down..”

“You..think so?”

He chuckled, giving you a small smile, tired but genuine.

“Hell, I know so.” he said. You could tell. You could tell that he desperately wished this was how the events played out in his own world, with the other you alive and a bright future ahead of them.

 You hesitated for a moment, not sure if what you were about to say would be too much for him. Then again, it was him who approached you with this vulnerable conversation. 

“For what it's worth I would… they would want you to keep on living. Not forget them, not at all. Just..be. Be a person. Make friends and..live.”

 He looked you in the eye for a second, before averting your gaze and looking anywhere but you. This was hard for him. But he was trying.

 He patted your back firmly. “Thanks, kid.” It was a very simple thing you told him yet you could not possibly know what it meant to him. 

You thought that maybe you got what you wished for. Not exactly and certainly not ideally. But you and this Logan had something in common. Maybe, you could help and comfort each other in a way nobody else possibly could. 

 “Y’ know..I'm glad you got to stay, Logan.”

 A smile. “I'm glad to be here, kiddo.”

A pause. 

“How long do you think I should make Wade do my laundry for? Y'know. For retribution?”

“Oh, six months at least, bub..” 

You stayed for a couple hours chatting above the restless city, topics including but not limited to work, university and acquaintances.

Your pain was soothed a tiny bit and you hoped Logan's was too. You had a lot of time ahead of you to work on that further, after all.

[desublimitate]

Allure of darkness

❛ Let's make a deal: if you beg me to fuck you again, you will be mine from now on ❜

Author's note: MDNI. This is the first chapter of a fic you can find on Ao3 here. OC (y/n) is afab and uses she/her, no body type or any characteristics specified so you all can identify with her 🖤 Timeline is canon compliant i guess (?)

Content: yami sukehiro x reader, smut, rough sex, vaginal sex, dom/sub, oral sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink

As surprising it was that you became a Magic Knight, it didn't shock anyone when you joined the Black Bull. Such a wasted talent you were, if only you were born in a noble family, everyone knew you would have been a shiny jewel for the Clover Kingdom, but you, born a peasant didn't have much hopes for your future. If it wasn't for that man.

The priest of your village begged you to visit the church and confess your sin of envy, seeing you getting greener and meaner day by day.

You deserved more than everyone else, that's what your face read.

Born a gifted kid, your talent succeeded any expectations, therefore, when at 14 your grimoire picked you, the world was ready to see you shine.

Speaking in tongues magic.

 What a rare and unique grimoire.

You were just a sprout when that spellbook appeared before your eyes.

Thin as a spring daisy, latched to your childhood dreams, your inner wisdom was always a sign that something bigger was coming your way.

That day, surrounded by all your friends, you played imagining what type of magic would have chosen you.

Water magic would have been so beautiful to wield, spatial magic would have helped you travel around the world, god you were so excited to see your natural talent.

Your mother had food magic, she would replenish mana thanks to her meals while your father's stone magic was celebrated in the whole Clover Kingdom, even nobles would rely on him to build their palaces. It was all coming up to you, wasn't it?

Your mother cried tears of pride, your father clapped his strong hands when you, small and bubbly, got picked by that majestic grimoire.

 Speaking in tongues magic, the wise men of the village were enthusiast for the recognition you would bring. With your talent you were going to be able to decode the most ancient tomes, discovering parts of history still kept secret. Your future seemed set in stone: after years of deep studies, you would have reached the Capital, and joined the Wizard King and served him, opening doors to unknown worlds with your magic.

But then it all went wrong.

Your father fell ill and couldn't continue with his work as before.

The less money he brought home, the less provisions you could afford.

Food at the village market seemed always more expensive, affecting both your parents magic. If your mother couldn't cook, your father's mana couldn't really catch up.

Nor you could pay for healers.

There was only one painful but inevitable solutions.

With a tight heart you gave up your studies at the academy to find a job in town that could provide for your family.

With the weight of your home on your shoulders, you served ale and stews at the village tavern, always with a smile, but crying inside.

You watched them all leave for the Capital, your childhood friends and their not-so-special magic.

You grew colder and crueler, blaming fate or whoever weaved the strings of life for what they did to you.

They were out there, with their common powers, mingling with other commoners, while you were a sparkling diamond forced to stay under the dirt.

Someone like you, able to decode and translate ancient inscriptions had to spend your nights among drunkhards who never knew when to keep their hands at bay.

You deserved more than that, you were born for more than that.

All that talent couldn't have gone to waste.

Always more isolated, your family started to grow worried.

Lost in your thoughts, in private studies you started doing on your own, sneaking books from the local library in your bag, they believed you were going down a dark path.

Who knew what kind of books you were studying, what kind of obscure magic you were uncovering.

Darkness called to you, like a siren with her hypnotic song.

You were going to take your destiny in your hands.

If life wasn't going to give you what you deserved, you were going to take it yourself.

No matter what.

There was a certain allure to darkness you couldn't deny.

The books you were learning to read on your own were so full of wonders and secrets. It didn't matter how exhausted you were, if you came home from at the tavern at the break of dawn, you looked forward to be hiding under your blankets with even a small light to read your stolen tomes.

Of course you would return them, at some point.

Your parents never noticed them, or if they did, they never asked.

There was so much out there, demons caged in the depths of hell, monsters of ancient times. All with magic so undefeatable you couldn't begin to imagine them.

Stories of the first Wizard King, of the Demon he slayed.

There was so much in that world and you deserved to be a part of it.

You deserved to have a piece of power.

That night was particularly ectic at the tavern. You hated those kind of nights, when dozens of failed Magic Knights reunited to drink to forget their missed opportunities. Soldiers retired after injuries, former knights that served their time in prison after the Wizard King found them guilty of taking advantage of their role.

They were just the worst, they started the night already quite high and at the end of your shift even your clothes stenched of beer and sweat.

-Born to be a scholar, forced to clean after drunkhards's vomit- You brushed the floor hard, covering your nose from the disgusting smell.

-What was it, y/n?!- Your boss's voice came loud booming from the kitchen.

-Nothing, nothing!- You groaned with annoyance.

-Get your ass back here, The Table asked for more ale-

''Of course they did'' You made sure to keep that thought for yourself, but not for long -Look, boss, are we sure we want to keep doing this? We are losing customers everytime someone sits at The Table, is it really worth it?!-

Your boss was an old greasy man, short in height but full of rage.

-Since when I asked your opinion on business matters?! When I will need the opinion of a vomit-cleaning maid I will come to you! Now, off you go and you make sure I don't hear your voice for the rest of the evening!-

The unspeakable curses you swallowed burned your throat, but you knew better than crying, at least in that man's presence.

You waited for when you were under your blankets, surrounded by your books, to cry your misfortune.

-Are you still here?!-

-I'm going, I'm going- Your hand slightly shook when lifting the overfilled tray.

If you didn't burned down that place yet it was all because of the little money that kept your family going.

The smell of alcohol filled your nostrils and made you dizzy as soon as you stepped into The Table room.

The Table room was the aisle reserved for bets: the worst kind of men, usually addicted to gambling spent their nights and their fortunes at The Table.

Whether it was cards, chips, dice, at The Table, those men would even bet on their life.

Many times they were left with nothing to offer and tried to sneak you in their games, someone even tried to put your body on the table, as if you were a good they could exchange.

As if you would have given yourself to a loser like them.

 

-Here is the beauty of the house! Are you included in the meal deal, precious!- Someone chanted as soon as you stepped in.

-Ah ah ah, I never heard that- You rolled your eyes and landed the cups on the table.

-Bold of you to even ask for a meal deal, when you are not even paying a shitty dime, sir-

The room boomed with a roar for your comeback.

Insulted in his pride, the man tugged at your apron, forcing you to bend down.

God, he reeked.

-Listen here, precious, shoot another of your smart comebacks at me and I will make you pay for the meal deal, one way or another-

As if he could intimidate you.

You snatched back your apron in place -Sure thing, sir, as if you can afford me-

Now a new sound surprised you.

A laugh you never heard before caught your attention among the others.

Your eyes quickly scanned the table of the loyal vile customers, and immediately your heart skipped a beat.

Wow.

There was a man there, he had never been here before you were certain of it. You knew all those fools by name, and the stranger was definitely a new entrance.

God, what was a man like that doing there?

-She surely has a silver tongue!- The man then pointed a pocket knife to your harasser, with a dark snarl he threatened -I think you will want to think about it twice before speaking like that to the lady, asshole!-

You stood still like a salt statue. No one ever stood up for you, especially not like that, holding the drunks at knifepoint.

That stranger had awakened something dormient in you.

A thirst for life that made your blood boil.

His voice was baritonal, almost coming from the pits of hell, with a charm to it that made it impossible to forget.

Almost magnetic.

His eyes were like those of a hawk.

Foreigner, you were sure, no one had eyes like that in the kingdom of Clover.

Sharp, gleaming.

Wild.

Everything about that foreigner called to parts of you you believed dead for good.

His six pack and pecs were almost tearing the fabric of his white tank top apart.

His biceps as big as your head.

God, he was immense and the more you stared at his rough fingers playing with a cigarette, the more your mind went blank.

The foreigner took a drag on the thin cigarette and your throat ran dry.

The way his lips sucked on the end and breathed out the smoke made your legs quiver.

-Are you going to stand there and stare much longer, my love?-

He didn't even acknowledged you, yet he knew somehow.

Fuck.

With a jump you left -I'm not your love, asshole-

That laugh dug inside you -We will see about that-

Needless to say you couldn't just focus on anything that night.

Your boss noticed it, how you dropped plates, forgot orders, misplaced tables.

-What is it with you tonight?! God you are so useless-

What was with you? You wished you knew.

There was a man at The Table, among the worst ones you knew, that got under your skin with just his voice.

How dared he calling you ''my love'', how dared he made fun of you for staring at him?

There had to be something you could do about your blushing cheeks.

-Hey boss- You tried to not want to go back to The Table room, but you started looking forward for them to order more drinks, so that you could catch a glimpse of him -Do you know who is tha guy? I have never seen him here-

The short man peaked through the door and chuckled -Tsk, is he back for real?-

So he knew him.

Your boss made a happy face, brushing his palms.

That wasn't a good sign.

-That...- He pointed with his thumb -...is one of the biggest losers I've ever seen-

You curled your lips, well, that was disappointing.

So handsome and yet a loser.

He wouldn't sit at The Table after all.

Now, you noticed something that those bunch of drunk pigs would never be able to.

He noted down his points and strategies for game in a language from so far away.

A language you knew well and studied in your books.

But god, was he a loser for real.

Your boss was right, that handsome, muscular foreigner, had already lost his shoes and jacket, after having no more money to bet on.

Everytime you had to serve his table you had to hold your breath, to not get lost in his smell, of cigarettes and oils.

His grey eyes always locked with yours, as if he perceived you coming before you even stepped in.

And you couldn't resist them.

The way he looked at you was...no, you didn't want to think about it.

He was a drunk and a loser.

How could he even lose with such easy cards?

All night long you wanted to try and do something, a test, and finally when everyone was a bit too drunk to notice, you took your chance.

-Midori- The moment you said that word, he lifted his head quickly.

Bingo, you were right.

He must have thought to be completely wasted, he even started hearing his own native language now.

But as surprised as he was, never taking his eyes off you, he picked the green card from his hand and threw it on the table.

To the other players's discontent.

He won.

And for the rest of the night, you played with him, cheating for him under everyone's nose.

He clearly loved gambling but had no idea how to play, so it was you everytime you brought cups of beers to suggest him, in his own language, the colors, the numbers, the cards to pick.

Slowly, the foreigner won back his shoes, his jacket and started gaining the others players's money.

It never happened before, which made The Table room want to witness that unique event.

Why did you want that man to win? Maybe because his satisfied laugh freed all the butterflies in your stomach, maybe because for once you met someone more interesting.

Or mostly, it was because you loved to have his eyes on you.

Always scanning your ass whenever you turned your back, or your breasts whenever you bent on the table.

For the first time since you started working at the tavern you wished your shift never ended.

 But it did, as always.

Your boss gave you your pay for the day, less than the half of what you deserved, but better than nothing.

It was dark and chill outside, you loved to feel the cold wind on your face after a night in the tavern.

The dark of the night shielded you from your troubles and the cold washed you from the dirt.

With your coat under your arm, you slammed the door open to leave for good.

God, you hated that bell on the doorframe.

At first you didn't notice him, hidden in the shadows, but the moment the tail of your eye catched the frame in the corner, you gasped and jumped.

-FUCK!- You almost dropped your belongings from the scare -God, you scared me!-

Yet, he didn't seem impressed.

Leaning on the wall, foot against the stone to enhance the size of his thick thighs through the marroon leather pants, lighting a cigarette.

The man stretched his arm, offering you the packet.

-Want a smoke?-

At loss of words you didn't know how to react.

If it was anyone else you would have ran away, or attacked them, but him you felt you could trust.

You shouldn't have, your conscence was trying to talk to you, you don't talk to strangers who drink and gamble and spend the night staring at your ass.

-No, I don't smoke-

He shrugged -Better for your health, I guess-

-Wha...what are you doing here?-

In the dark he looked intimidating, as if he belonged to the night,

as if he was born from the shadows.

His tanned skin, his dark brown hair, the rougly shaven beard.

Everything about him screamed wilderness.

And it called you.

-What, a man can't enjoy a smoke at night without being harassed now?-

He loved to play.

You rolled your eyes -As if you haven't stared at my tits all night-

The man laughed -God, you do have a silver tongue, don't you? Does that pretty mouth of yours ever get you in trouble?-

-More than you can imagine-

He lifted an eyebrow, intrigued -And do you have a name to accompany your brains?-

You swallowed.

Never give your name to a stranger in a dark alley.

But when you thought, your mouth already gave it off.

-And you, do you have a name to accompany all those muscles?-

The foreigner put down his foot -You don't know who I am?-

Were you supposed to?

-I mean, your reputation preceeds you. You really are bad at cards-

He offered you his hand to shake -Yami Sukehiro-

Sukehiro.

You shook his hand and the size difference made you weak at your knees. His hand seemed to devour yours.

-Yami. It means darkness-

Yami squeezed your hand, and perhaps taking advantage of the grasp, he reduced the distance between the two of you.

Forcing you to lift your head to look at him.

-What does a girl that knows the language of the Land of The Sun does in a tavern, serving beers to gamblers?-

That confirmation almost made you wanna jump around like a kid -So I was right, you really come from the Land of The Sun!-

Yami looked genuinely surprised, but was trying his best to not show it.

Clearly failing.

-It's the first time I meet someone that actually knows my country, leave alone speaks its language. How?-

And it was the first time for you that someone acknowledged your talent. For you it was just natural, but it wasn't.

It was your uniqueness.

-My magic. Speaking in tongues-

Yami took a deep drag, the smoke that came out of his mouth dissolved close in your face, giving you an hint of what his lips might have tasted like.

-Never heard that one-

No one ever asked you, and now you were afraid you would have annoyed him by talking about it.

-Oh, it's...uh, well...the name says it all I mean-

Yami shook his head, leaning on your face, slowly.

So slow you could feel your cheeks starting to burn like bonfires.

-I want you to tell me about it...or did the cat eat your silver tongue?-

The effect he had on you was the closest thing you knew to being drunk.

You felt light, floating from the floor in his presence.

Your mind blank, all your ability to speak gone to hell.

You started muttering.

-Oh, well...uh- You scratched your head. Did you look good? Were you a mess? -My magic allows me to...know languages. All of them, actually! From all countries, even those far from here. And ancient ones, lost ones too! I can speak demon language, or angelic language if that matters. Yours is pretty easy compared to those, you know, and...-

Yami stopped you, pressing a finger on your lips.

You halted and stopped breathing all of a sudden.

-This brings me back to my first question. What does a girl like you do in a tavern like this?- His eyes, darting you, digging into your skin -Why are you not a Magic Knight?-

Ouch, did he have to ask that?

-Did I strike a nerve?- Yami tilted his head in way that reads...concern?

You lowered your gaze, ashamed.

-No, no it's okay. I just..I just can't afford it-

Yami smoked, and let you continue speaking.

-My family is not doing well. My father used to work in the Capital, but then he fell ill and my mother is a healer so we really are not swimming in good waters right now. I wanted to try and become one, I did, I studied in an academy for a while but yeah, my family needs food and money, not books-

Yami hinted a smile, the muscles at the corner of his mouth slightly twitched but he didn't speak for a few seconds.

-Next week the Capital is hosting the yearly exam to recruit Magic Knights. Come-

For a moment, you believed he was truly stupid. Didn't he listen what you just said?

-I can't, Yami, my family won't survive without me! And it would be a stupid waste of time, I have no combat skills or anything like that, I would never be chosen, so...-

-If you got chosen though, your family will be provided everything they need, they pay good money you know-

At this point, you just wanted to leave.

You turned away, but Yami grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him.

Too close.

Too dangerous.

-What the fuck are you doing! Are you deaf or what?!- You kicked him on the knees and that made him laugh loud.

So loud he could have woken the neighbourhood.

-And you say you don't have combat skills?! Listen to me very well, y/n- He had your wrist tight against his chest.

His pectorals were so swollen, you just couldn't help yourself.

-You will be chosen- Yami sounded so confident in himself.

-What?!-

-You have a power that Jul..the Wizard King would never, for anything in the world, want to miss out. The things you could do, knowing the ancient languages and the dark tongues...come with me to the Capital-

You were lost in his eyes, in the inflections of his voice, how it made his chest vibrate.

-Why, do you also want to become a Magic Knight? Will you attend at the exam?-

He smiled, and tucked a strand of your hair back behind your ears with a gentleness that had nothing to do with his brute attire.

-Yeah, I will attend-

What were you? A stupid teenager, thinking of running away in the night with the first handsome man that you met?

Yet, his darkness was so compelling, and his body so inviting.

You noticed how his eyes had dropped on your lips, the movement of his tongue, licking his.

Hungry.

Feral.

-Suddenly so quiet?- Yami pressed you against his chest. You could feel his heart racing -Where did your silver tongue go, uh?-

Where did your self control go, you had no idea.

The proximity to Yami Sukehiro, a stranger from a foreign land, that sparked in you again the wish to pursue your talent, made you feel like an animal.

All about him called to you, even his name.

You loved how it rolled on your tongue.

Sukehiro.

You wanted to whisper it over and over.

And how immense he was compared to you, that really stole all reason in your mind.

Your body was reacting to him, since the first moment you caught a glimpse of him, he woke your instincts.

You were thirsty, and hungry for him, for a man like that you could have really lost control.

-You are still staring, y/n- Yami lifted your chin -My eyes are up here-

Your lips were dry -I could say the same about you, you have been staring all night, Sukehiro-

-Mhm- He hummed -Calling me by my first name, now? Who gave you the permission, my love?-

Your cheeks set ablaze and your legs trembled.

Between your thighs you could feel a wet pond forming, your clit pulsing everytime he spoke.

-I don't need anyone's permission to do anything-

Yami was taking deep breaths, all of his muscles were tense.

But after your last reply, he sighed with a groan and grabbed your face.

-Show me what else that cursed mouth can do-

Yami devoured your lips, invading your mouth with his tongue and moaning when he found yours was ready to return the kiss.

You licked him per instinct, followed the movement of his lips.

God, he tasted like heaven, you almost fell on your knees.

His kiss was wild, needy, brutal.

-You are so good at it...-He panted in between kisses, before penetrating your mouth again with his tongue.

He knew what you liked, how you couldn't tell.

-Bite me- You sighed -My lips, bite me-

Yami still had your face in his hands, as if you could have escaped him.

He bit you and when he did, he opened his eyes, making sure he wasn't hurting you.

You wanted it, nothing could have hurt.

Yami drowned his head on your neck, where your skin was thin and that sent a shiver down your spine, making your toes curl.

-Fuck, Sukehiro-

-Do you like that?- He bit your skin, it stung and burned, and he sucked.

And sealed his mark with a lap of his tongue -Do you like being marked?-

You nodded, in trance.

Having his mark, the mere thought made your pussy wetter than it already was. Just by kissing him, your womb was on fire, now that he was marking you, thin trails of wetness started flowing down your thighs.

Not anyone, but him.

The mark of this stranger appeared out of nowhere, sent by the darkness.

He was in your destiny, that was the only reason you could find for letting go so casually with a stranger.

This stranger though, you wanted him.

-I want you- Your moan made Yami clench his fist.

-Say that again, y/n- His low voice echoed on your neck and you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair.

-I want you, Sukehiro-

That must have been the signal.

Because Yami bent down and grabbed your ass in his full hands, gave it a rough squeeze and lifted you.

After locking your thighs around his waist he looked at you straight in the eyes.

A hunter with his prey.

-Good, because I have been wanting to fuck you all night-

Yami Sukehiro was a man of instinct, he knew how to trust his guts and that night for some reason, he sensed that it was his lucky night.

Ever since he stepped into the tavern, ready to lose all his belongings as always, he knew that he wouldn't have left with empty hands.

When he saw you, his primeval awareness locked in. He was an apex predator and you were the perfect mate.

Your snarl, your smart replies, everything about your rudeness was appealing to him. And god knew how he struggled all night to hide the boner in his pants everytime you showed up.

How you milk-smooth skin shone under the candle light, the softness of your breasts made him starve.

The perfect shape of your ass filling your clothes was mesmerizing, how many hands of cards did he lose while lost staring at you walking away, just to catch a glimpse of it.

But there were too many layers of skirts for his liking, thank goodness he found a remedy for that.

When he groped your ass to lift you, his fingers dug into your cheeks, spreading them apart.

Yami kneaded your ass and sneered when you mewled in his mouth.

-Oh yeah? You wanna fuck me?- Repeating his words made you come to terms with the truth: he was gonna fuck you, and the anticipation was almost feverish. You just couldn't wait any longer, each step Yami took on the staircase that led to the rooms upstairs of the tavern made your heart flutter.

Confidently, Yami didn't miss a single step, while still licking and biting your jaw.

-Mhm mhm- He confirmed -I wouldn't have left this village without making you mine first-

Yami noticed how his words affected you: your panties were soaked under a couple underskirts, so soaked that your wetness had reached his white shirt and spread -So wet for me already, and I haven't even touched you yet? You don't seem so bossy now, do you-

It wasn't your fault, but his.

You never met someone like him, someone that made you fall for lust so quickly. For all you knew, he could have been a criminal of the worst grade, but it didn't matter.

Your brain was fogged by desire, all your body ached for him.

Your breasts were squished against his pecs, your nipples hardened and got so sensitive just by friction that electricity jolted through your nerves; your thighs were numb and your core, well, you were trying to mantain a certain decency to not beg him to fill you right away.

Yami kicked the door of the room he rented, the wooden plank slammed against the wall and he didn't really cared about making sure he closed it behind his back, than he threw you on the mattress.

-Sukehiro...-You gasped, stretching your arms for him, needing those muscles back on you, that scent overtaking you.

Yami stood at the end of the bed, kicking his boots in a corner and brought his hands on his white top.

A translucent stain of your wetness made his skin visible through the fabric.

-Look what you have done to my favourite shirt, naughty-

Hungrily, you reached for his pants, with your fingers you tried to undo the strings and bottons that separated you from pleasure.

While you untied the knots, Yami stripped off his shirt, leaving your mouth dry and your eyes glazed.

-You are so hot- The words left your lips like you were hypnotized.

His six pack was so defined, hard at touch and over his bulky pectorals a thin layer of dark hair.

-Take your fucking clothes off- Yami commanded with a sigh, his chest rising with deep breaths.

He wanted it as much as you did.

You didn't let him repeat himself, as soon as your corset came undone and your tits were revealed to him, Yami let out a soft groan.

-Fuck-

His pants disappeared from sight, making you aware of the biggest cock you ever seen.

You had good partners in your history, you never complained but this...there was no way that could fit inside you.

And your pulsing cunt was aching for the challenge.

-Fuck, you are so big- You licked your lips, looking at Yami grabbing his cock in his hands and stroking it.

Shivers spread across your cunt, his full hand could barely circle the girth of that rock-hard cock.

In the moonlight, droplets of precum glistened on the head and leaked all acroos the veiny lenght.

Yami stood proud of his size and his build, he was born to be a dominant, that was clear as day.

It was clear for his presence turned you into a mute goldfish.

Speechless, a mess of pants and purrs, you welcomed Yami Sukehiro, the stranger that entranced you with his darkness, between your legs, where he tore apart your skirts with his bare hands.

-Lemme see you, lemme see how...-Yami lifted your legs, pushing your knees onto your chest, exposing your naked, gleaming, pussy.

He exhaled, a deep deep sigh sent a cool breeze over your soaked sex.

Like a soft rain over a fire.

Yami took his time to admire your naked body, after trying to imagine it all night through your clothes, his fantasy could have never made justice to the perfection you were.

The firm shape of your tits, how they mellowed in his fingers, your perky nipples and the way you squirmed as soon as he tickled them.

Your hips and waist, perfect for his hands to grab, he made sure to give them a good squeeze when he pulled you under him to assert his dominance.

And then, your pussy.

-This is all mine- He growled as he towered over you, bringing your legs on his strong broad shoulders.

Drunk in his gaze, you nodded.

-Yeah? Is your pussy all mine, my love?- He cucked his brows, faking a desperate expression. Probably making an impression of your face, pathetically needing him, all of him.

-Say it, I want your smart mouth to say your pussy belongs to me now-

There was something in the way he commanded you that turned your brain into mush.

Sterness, the magnetic tone of his voice, his dominating size.

-It's yours, Yami. Just please...- You bit your lips.

You begged? You were really begging now? What did this man do to you to reduce you to a cock begging submissive?

A wicked grin appeared on his lips, and Yami pushed himself slowly on you, his weight taking over all your resistance.

-Please...what? What were you trying to say?- The head of his cock nudged at your entrance with a wet sound.

You tilted your head back, fighting with the last ounce of self control you stored, but your clit said otherwise when Yami stroked it with his middle finger.

His cock ready to penetrate you and his hand playing with your bud, if your legs weren't kept tight on his shoulders, you would have kicked them in the air.

Yami made slow circles around your wet and swollen clit, and the stimulation was a trap for your pussy.

Through the growing louder moans, you felt his cock having an easier access inside you.

Your hole loosening.

God, Yami knew what to do with a woman's body.

And the idea of other having fucked that cock before, having his lustful eyes, made you burn with jealousy.

And desire to satisfy him.

Now he didn't stop fiddling with your clith when he bit your collabone and whispered again -Please...what? Say it, show me how dirty can that wicked mouth really be- Yami reached your mouth and chocked your moan with a kiss. His beard was tickling you, everywhere he left bites your skin was on fire -Are you only good at giving smart comebacks? You keep bragging about your tongue, until now I've only tasted desperation in it. Will you really beg me to fuck you, uh? Is that what you were trying to say?-

You were on the verge of tears, thirsty and hungry for Yami like your life depended on him taking your body.

You needed his touch, as rough as he could be.

You needed to disappear under him, to be conquered.

You never wanted anyone as much as you wanted that stranger.

-Sukehiro...please- With a hand you cupped his face and he followed your movement, curling his lips.

-What a good little girl you are, I will offer you a deal-

A deal?

If there was trouble you were way too late to escape now.

-What do you want?- Your voice a sob.

-You. I want you-

-I don't understand-

-If you beg me to fuck you, you will be mine. You will belong to me, your precious little cunt will belong to me-

Whatever it meant, it was what your body was screaming for.

Did he want to buy you? Were you going to be his concubine?

You should have reflected on it, on the consequences, on the conditions, but how could you reflect on anything when a man like Yami Sukehiro was feasting on your tits, filling his mouth with your soft flesh, nibbling and sucking your nipples.

-Fuck me- It finally escaped you -I am yours, Yami-

A hard, deep thrust filled you to the point of choking you.

Yami pounded his way inside you, with a fast thrust that made your pubic bones clash against his, and his balls smack against your ass.

His cock reached so deep inside you that you gasped for air, while he roared.

Your pussy stretched all at once to welcome his size but not enough.

Your muscles wrapped and squeezed his throbbing cock.

Yami didn't take his grey eyes off you, with a smile upon seeing you finally getting what you have asked for.

He didn't move, for as rough as his penetration was, he still realized how big he was for you and waited for your body to adjust to his size.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair.

-You are mine now- He said, low, like a promise from hell.

Yami was inside you, his cock throbbed against your walls, his head already nudging a spot that no one ever found before.

You moaned his name again and he grabbed your wrist, bringing it behind your head.

Then kissed you deeply while entwining his fingers with yours.

That kiss was different, less brutal, less carnal.

He kissed you like he...

No, you couldn't be that stupid. You didn't even know him, you knew nothing about him.

No strings attached whatsoever.

It was just casual sex, the best sex, but just casual.

Nothing else, right?

His kiss, slow, passionate seemed to say otherwise.

But when he moved his cock, you forgot about everything else.

In and out of your pussy, Yami started slowly to pount in you, so slow he made you die in anticipation for the next thrust, but deep and rough enough to make you scream.

-Now that's a sound I like coming from your mouth-

His teeth were once again on your neck, right under your jaw, your chin.

Yami was leaving you a necklace of lovebites.

The contrast between the pleasure of his cock in your cunt and the bites on your skin sent you in a spiral.

Your fingers reached for his shoulders.

-Faster- You moaned into his ear.

And faster he went.

Yami panted and moaned, he wasn't the kind of man that kept his pleasure all for himself, on the contrary he had no restraint when it came to growling for what your pussy did to him.

Each thrust faster than the previous, the smacking sound your pussy was making and the slippery movement of his cock were a sign of how both of your juices were mixing.

His precum mixed with your pleasure and leaked over your butthole and dripped on the sheets, already drenched by sweat.

-You like it like this, sweetheart? Is it fast enough for your needy pussy?- Yami smiled even through his growls and didn't even reacted when your nails scratched his back.

-You are a fucking asshole- You managed to say, his weight and his cock choked air out of you.

-You have no idea- Yami squeezed your tit and kept drilling you.

If he kept pounding that deep, you were sure he was going to break you in half, but your pussy was made for his cock, he was molding it in his shape and you just couldn't have enough of the sound of his voice.

Of knowing that that was you driving him crazy as much as he was doing with you.

-Where the fuck have you been until now?-

He finally arched his back when your nails scratched deeper, that question caught completely unprepared.

You wanted him, you wanted to please him.

-Tell me I'm yours, Yami-

Every word coming out of you almost incomprehensible.

-You are mine, you are fucking mine-

Every word coming out of him accompanied by a thrust.

That's all you needed to know.

You were his to please.

-I wanna ride your cock, Sukehiro-

He barely let you finish the sentence, that his hands were already on your hips, squeezing you and rolling over the bed.

Yami held you firm in place and now that you were sitting on his thick thighs, that you were observing his skin, coated by a shiny layer of sweat, you realized how truly big he was compared to you.

Your whole body would fit on one of his thigh only, his abdomen spread across the mattress, barely enough to contain him.

Yami crossed his swollen biceps under his head and rocked his hips, making you bounce.

-You said you wanted to ride me, are you just words?-

Fuck, what a piece of shit he was.

You wanted him to destroy you.

That arrogant sneer on his face made you grab his cock, wet of both your wetness and his precum, and bring it to your entrance.

It was heavy in your hand that couldn't circle it, and it smelled of heat.

A part of you, the most irrational and drunk of him, almost gave up on the desire to have him inside to taste him instead.

You wanted that massive shaft in your mouth, discover how much of it you would fit before you choked on it.

Discover the taste of that man, see him crumble for your lips.

But Yami had other plans for you: with another sudden and unexpected hump, he filled your cunt.

The meowing gasp you let out made him chuckle.

-Now that's more like that- He watched you lose that last crumb of sanity as you fall on his chest.

His cock drilled up to your stomach, a visible bulge rising on your womb, touching muscles and nerves no one ever touched before.

Looking for stability, grabbing his pecs, you stuck your tongue out in pure bliss.

Yami didn't miss the chance of sucking on your tongue and to make fun of your addiction -You really look cock drunk, sweetheart. Do you like being fucked like this?-

With his cruel fingers, he reached for your clit and as if his cock wasn't enough, he stroked it.

-Uh, you like being fucked like this? Naughty girl, look at your face-

The wetness of your pleasure was being stroked by Yami, spurting all over his hairy pube, his pounding reaching for your womb.

Like a predator breeding his mate.

-Ngh...Suke...hiro-

A new energy was growing inside you, an electricity that spread across your legs and down your spine.

-Yeah? Are you close to cumming?-

Your head nodded, eyes seeing stars.

With each deep pound he smacked in your pussy, his thighs slapped against your ass, a soft wet friction of sweat merged your skins together.

If he kept drilling at that depth and pace, you would pass out.

Your thighs grinded on him, with the intention of grasping every single inch of pleasure.

That take of charge made Yami moan.

Your pussy twitched when his voice reached your ear with a loud growl.

And you grinded again, locking your eyes on his.

-That's a good girl, keep doing that...fuck-

Inside you, that weight throbbed, readjusting your insides

Yami's cock was growing harder.

He tilted his head back, closing his eyes, lost in pure lust of your cunt clenching him.

Your walls sucked him in and out, the air suction with the lewd wet noises was a sign of how both your sexes were addicted to each other.

-Ya..Yami...I'm...-

Yami didn't open his eyes, but still found your hips, grabbing them tight, making it impossible for you to escape his next action.

-Cum on my cock, fuck- He roared, before rocking as fast as he could, fucking the air out of you -Cum on me, ugh-

Your climax blossomed in you like a flaming flower.

The spark ignited in your womb, a liquid light exploded as for a moment, you lost consciousness.

You came like you never came before.

Your legs outstretched and seizured, so did your back, like struck by a thunder.

Your cunt exploded on Yami's cock, tigthening, twitching.

Immediately, he was there to grab you.

As he rose to seize you in his arm, the movement pushed his cock even deeper in you.

-SUKEHIRO- You screamed, your nose invaded by the smell of sex and sweat that emanated from Yami.

His hot breath collided on your neck, while you disappeared into his embrace.

And he kept pumping his cock inside you, making sure of stealing every piece of orgasm out of you.

When his pace slowed and his breath became unsteady, your head spinned.

-Where do you want me to cum, answer quickly before I breed you-

His.

You wanted to be his.

-In my mouth- You hiccupped.

Yami remained in silence for a hot second, he wasn't sure he heard correctly, in the heat of the moment.

Did you say you wanted his load in your mouth? Didn't his ears deceive him?

-Say it again-

-Cum in my mouth, Yami. I want to taste you-

With manly arrogance, he lifted you from his cock, glazed by your juices.

Your pussy leaked your creamy orgasm on his thigh and with a sigh of relief your womb was freed by Yami's cock.

You felt empty now that he wasn't inside you anymore, already addicted to his presence and shape.

You laid on the edge of the mattress, legs spread and sore while he sat on his knees stroking his erection at full speed.

The wet pumping made Yami look aching to cum.

Head down and focused, his brow furrowed, chest going up and down in unsteady breaths.

You could tell he needed to cum just by how swollen his balls were.

-Will you be mine?- He growled under his breath, giving a hard stroke to his glistening head.

-I will be yours- You nodded, ready to take all of him.

Whatever that meant, you wanted it.

You wanted to be his.

You wanted to be ruined by this stranger you couldn't get enough of.

There was a before and a after Yami Sukehiro. You knew, the moment he first kissed you that no one else would have ever compared.

How could anyone compare to that strength, that stamina, that size.

-No one fucks like you do- Your body spoke for you, your brain was long shut down.

That confession erupted from you made Yami shudder.

Without ceasing to jerk off, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you towards him.

-Take it, open your mouth- He commanded, when your lips met with his hairy pube and the salty smell of his cock -Take it-

You obeyed, the reddened and swollen head of Yami's cock caressed your lips and your tongue, and the contact made him explode.

Yami bent on you, keeping your head firm as he released his load.

With your eyes up on him, you saw him hissing and roaring.

-Fuu..unf...Fuckk- He let go loud, beastly.

Suddenly your mouth was filled with a warm and thick liquid, the amount of Yami's seed was impressive.

How much did he need it, how long was he keeping all that.

And you did it, that was all for you.

Your effect on him and your doing.

His cock throbbed against your lips, shooting strings of sperm to decorate your tongue.

He tasted like salt, like heat, like lust.

Yami kept your head down until you drank him to the last drop.

And sighed, deeply, releasing you and abandoning himself back on the mattress.

Not before grabbing your arm and pulling you on his chest.

He swallowed, slicking his sweaty hair back.

He regained lucidity and caressed your back with the tip of his fingers -You alright?-

You lifted your head and nodded.

-Did you swallow my cum?!- Yami seemed surprised at the idea, as if he wasn't expecting that.

-Well, of course, that's why I wanted you to cum in my mouth-

Now Yami made a sound, resting his arm over his eyes.

Exhausted, relieved and utterly lost in you.

That wicked mouth of yours was going to be his ruin, he knew it.

Squeezing your cheeks he kissed you, savouring his own taste still lingering in your mouth.

A sloppy kiss, that's what you both needed after losing your minds in each other.

-You are a naughty, naughty, girl. Where did you learn how to fuck like that, uh?- He smacked your ass as he made himself cozy, lying on his side -Do your books say how to ride a man?-

You hid a laugh, tracing his hard muscles lines with your fingers -I had my experiences you know.

Yami's eyes darkened suddenly, the playful grin disappeared before he crashed onto your mouth again, forcing you to lay down with his imposing weight.

Slow, with soft petal kisses in between, never taking his eyes off you as he fought the urge to own you again.

-You are mine now-

Would have it ruined the mood if you asked what he meant? You really didn't care, for a part of you knew he was right.

That you would have looked for him in all the men you slept with.

Yami made you his.

-Only mine to kiss...- Yami licked under your jaw -...to touch...- Then he went low on your tits -...to fuck...- On your abdomen -...to ruin- And he stopped right above your clit, on your soft bushy pube.

Biting your lips you were already savouring the experience of Yami licking you, his mouth was so close.

-Jerk- You spat out when he cruelly crawled back to your face, with a playful smile.

He chuckled -Ready to go again, uh? You loved my cock that much?-

You nodded, scratching his light beard -I've never been fucked like this-

Yami gave you a squeeze on your hips and nudged his big nose against yours -You can say it outloud-

Yami Sukehiro snored, not that it surprised you that a brute like him would keep his rudeness even in his sleep, what surprised you was that his snoring woke you.

You forgot to have even fallen asleep.

He was sleeping like a babe, a soldier proud of his won battle, bicep under his head and one hand resting on his abdomen, one knee up to make a tent of the messed up sheets.

When you woke up you were still naked, covered in shivers after the sweat had cooled on your skin.

You must have fallen asleep together, after all you were both sore.

So sore that even rising from the bed pained you.

God, that man really fucked you like no one did, your legs were twitching from cramps.

You looked at him quickly, he was handsome when he slept. His chest rose in deep breaths and on his face was a dreamless serenity.

But you couldn't stay the night, what would have your boss said if he saw you coming down for breakfast with one of his customers, especially in the conditions you were?

What would have your parents said if they didn't see you at home by daylight?

It was all just sex, you reminded yourself.

You didn't know this guy, you didn't know his businesses.

No strings attached, just good, amazing, breath-taking, unforgettable sex.

When you gathered your clothes back they were a mess, completely torn apart, and then your eyes fell on something glittering in the dark.

You looked back, making sure Yami didn't wake from you stepping on the wooden tiles, and peeked inside his pouch.

There was a black shawl, or cape with a sygil embroidered on it.

A black bull.

That must have been the insigna of his gang or whatever. Under it, far more interesting, the leather sachet with the gold he won at The Table.

So much gold, what did he need it for?

He said he was going to the Clover Kingdom Capital, to attend the exam for the Magic Knights.

And asked you to join him.

It was then that a thought came to your mind.

You helped him win that gold, actually, if it wasn't for you he wouldn't have seen a dime, that meant that a big part of that win was also yours, right?

When Yami woke up the next morning he was alone and for a moment he believed that last night was a dream.

The most beautiful dream he ever had.

But your smell was still all over him, your sweet scent filled the room and yet, you were nowhere to be seen.

Not that he expected his breakfast in bed, but it was the first time that someone ran away in the middle of the night after fucking.

Usually it was him.

You were a surprise after the other.

Arrogant and clever, the best fuck he had and also a runaway.

Weren't you just a catch?

His insight was never wrong and led him to his pouch.

With a loud -AH!- Yami laughed seeing all of his gold vanished, and replaced by a small parchment in the leather sachet.

The ink was not completely dry yet, and it read

I'm sorry, I just took my part. I guess I will see you at the Magic Knight exams, don't forget it. You really have the best cock I ever fucked.

See you at the Capital, Yami Sukehiro

You clearly had no idea in what trouble you just put yourself.

Yami crumpled up your letter and put it in his pockets, somehow a way to feel you close and went about his day laughing.

-Oh, you will see my love, I will be there-

[peargreen-jellybean]

too fuckin long, so sorry about that, but enjoy a 3k word count poolverine hurt/comfort ficlet from the prompt idea i posted

my writing skills suck a bit and i wrote this on my phone but i did my best. enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan’s woken up in alleyways, face down, with clothes torn from a brawl he instigated and the glass bottles he’d fallen onto. Sometimes, if he’s lucky, he wakes up slumped over a table in the back of a bar because the owner was too afraid to tell him to leave.

Afraid of his claws or just his name.

The buzz of alcohol never stays long, even with high proof liquor, but the tiredness of a fucked up life still lingers for awhile more after several bottles of booze.

So waking up exhausted isn’t new. It's about the only way he’s woken up for a long time.

And that’s what Logan expects, slowly coming back to consciousness.

Exhaustion. Some hard surface. Hopefully most of his clothes intact.

One eye begrudgingly cracks open.

Yup, definitely a little fucked up. His joints ache deep into the bone and his head is cotton-y.

But… Nothing feels hard or sharp beneath him. In fact, he feels… comfortable.

Huh.

Turning just a bit, he finds his face buried in softness. It smells lived in; skin, spilled food, a hint of… gunpowder? And, after a moment, he hears the soft sound of music- too quiet to be bar music but not muffled enough to be from a building he isn’t inside of.

Huh.

“Mmm.” Using his forearms, Logan props himself up just enough to leave the softness and get a look around him.

Not an alley. Not a bar. Not even a cheap, seedy motel.

A house- er, an apartment more likely. And he’s sprawled, a moment ago face down, on top of an old couch with a blanket over him and pillow under him. Neither the couch nor the general space is all that large, he’s practically spilling off the furniture, but everything feels warm and lived in. Home-y, if a little messy.

There isn’t anyone else here- the living room, a good guess- but noises, once he registers them, coming from an adjacent room says he isn’t alone. The soft music seems to filter through from there as well.

Logan flips himself over, a bit too groggy to be elegant about it, and rubs the sleep from his eyes. The feel of gritty grime on his face, more than he usually gets after a night drowning in alcohol, confuses him.

And then-

His head slumps back into the pillow and he groans. “Fucking hell.”

The TVA. The Time Ripper. The Void.

The red spandex-ed asshole who stole him from his timeline.

… Who, after everything, took him home, here, introduced him to his blind roommate- Althea, if he recalls- and offered him a place to stay and sleep for a while. And, vaguely remembering being too tired to shower, who also gave Logan some clothes to sleep in.

Groaning, only half heartedly after remembering the comforts offered and taken, Logan pulls back the blanket and, likey for the first time, actually checks to see what he’s wearing.

A gray, “I eat cement” T-shirt and blue, rubber duck shorts.

Yeah, that seems about right.

He huffs, but sits up to get his elbows onto his knees and scrub more of the sleep away from his face. Instant regret again. Both he and Wade- battle worn and disgusting- had forgone a shower in favor of just near instantly passing out. He is fucking gross; dirt, blood, and god knows what else covering him in a disgusting layer.

Logan feels a pang of shame for getting onto their couch with this much dirt and sweat coating him- maybe he can wash the blanket and pillowcase as an apology- but a clattering from the room with the music recatches his attention. The volume of whatever song is playing- a woman singing, pleasantly raspy- increases afterward.

Too interested to ignore whatever’s going on, Logan gets up to stand- with only a small groan, thank you- and, after a quick, satisfying stretch, slowly pads over to the doorway. Nothing outright sounds or feels dangerous, but from his experience and especially after the past few days, the need for caution can’t be shaken.

He must still not be fully awake, because the smell hits him only a few creeping steps from the doorway; pepper, eggs, something a bit burnt.

Food.

God, he didn’t realize how hungry he was until now. Even the burning smell is appetizing.

Popping his head in, the sight inside startles him awake completely.

With “I <3 hot dads” shorts, a red apron, and fucking crocs on his feet, Wade shifts around in front of the kitchen counter, swaying to the song he has playing from a radio somewhere. The place is a complete mess of egg shells and plates, but the table has a, rather large, plate of scrambled eggs, another plate of half burnt toast, and an assortment of other breakfast items. The smell of coffee also hangs in the air. And for the first time, maybe since knowing the man- and when he wasn’t unconscious- Wade is happily content not saying a word. He simply turns a toaster, with a fucking butter knife stuck into it, this way and that, and shakes it like he wants information from it.

It’s jarringly warm, and domestic.

Logan is again thrown for a moment.

When was the last time he woke up to clean clothes- even though he himself is gross as hell- the softness of a pillow, to the smell and sight of another person cooking breakfast in a kitchen?

Ever?

That sounds pathetically sad and incorrect, but in the doorway, watching it happen in real time, Logan feels lost and a bit raw.

Lucky for him though, Wade is still an annoying fuck and pulls him from his thoughts.

Like he sensed the presence of the other man half lingering in the doorway, Wade looks back at him and smiles wide. All bright teeth. No mask.

“Well, good morning Peanut! Did ya sleep well? I don't know about you but I think being torn apart and put back together finally got rid of the knot in my back. God, I slept like Al after she goes through waaay too many little baggies.” He motions over to the table with his chin. “I made some eggs and toast if you want. A true triumphant heroes’ breakfast! Hopefully you like them both a bit overdone. And there’s a pot of coffee over there.” He gestures to a machine on the counter now. “You can literally just drink from the pot if you want. Caffeine does not work on me, funnily enough. We don’t have creamer but there’s milk in the fridge and sugar next to the coffee maker…”

Wade goes on to babble about everything and nothing and, while Logan cannot count the number of times he’s wanted to stab the man for not shutting up, he can’t find the want to be actually irritated.

Not in the face of food, and coffee, and just… comfort.

Speaking of…

Logan clears the lump in his throat. “Thanks.” It’s all he can think to say, but he means it, even with the rough rumble of his morning voice.

Which Wade seems to find fascinating.

“Holy shit! How the fuck does your voice get even deeper? God, you would make a killing as a erotic audio book reader. Millions probably.” Wade flashes a flirtatious look before he turns back to the toaster and continues to mumble to himself, or perhaps the broken machine.

Logan huffs, but the call of coffee is stronger than his need for a comeback. The whole pot is grabbed per the offer, the sugar too, and now standing in front of the table he finds himself hesitating. No spots are occupied and nothing says ‘preferred seat’, but Logan can’t help but pause. ‘Make yourself at home’ feels like the unsaid, unfamiliar offer he can’t accept as easily as the coffee.

It feels too easy- another pathetic thought- and he can’t help but feel like he isn’t awake yet, and the reality of a cold, pavement bed will greet him if he gets too comfortable…

“Stupid fucking piece of metal crap!” Wade hisses, followed by the sound of the knife stabbing into the toaster.

Nope, probably not a dream. Logan is not a creative enough person to come up with something like this.

God, so just… sit, you fucking moron.

Picking a chair facing away from the toaster killer, Logan sets the coffee pot down- on a mat he also picked up, he isn’t an asshole- and settles in.

He feels awkward, like a kid at his first sleepover, but the eggs are there in front of him and his stomach is starting to growl. Awkwardness can wait until after a few bites, at least. There’s a lack of something important on the table though. After a quick glance around the plates and cups, and not finding anything, he looks over to Wade who seems to be completely brawling with the toaster now.

Wincing at the sight, and before he can rethink his decision, Logan clears the remaining sleep from his throat and uses that to draw the other man’s attention.

“Do uh, do you got a fork or somethin’?”

“Ah fuck, that’s what I forgot!” Wade sets, or slams really, the toaster down and moves over to a drawer, then rooting through it. “Didn’t run the dishwasher either and all the good forks are in it. Fuck…” He mumbles something else too, but lets out a triumphant ‘ha!’ when he pulls out two forks, one a little more bent than the other.

He skips, almost, over to Logan and presents the utensils. “Here you go Peanut, pick your favorite!”

Grabbing the more bent fork, Logan nods a silent thanks and begins slowly transferring eggs from the larger plate to one of the smaller, empty ones. Wade, satisfied with the choice, simply sets the other fork onto the table and goes back to the counter, and that damn toaster.

But before brawling again, he calls back, “Help yourself to as much as you want Babygirl! You deserve it for all your sexy hero work!”

Logan huffs again but grabs one of the toaster’s victims, once he’s gotten a fair amount of egg, and takes a bite of the slightly over cooked toast and just… enjoys.

The moment is pretty… nice.

Warm food. Morning sun from the window- god, he doesn’t even know that time it is. Wade isn’t quiet, hardly ever is, but he’s not overly inane or loud right now.

It’s all… good.

So… What does it?

An old memory, like deja vu, from another place and time with other people? The still lingering, ghostly sensation of his own body shredding and healing, just below his skin? Wade grumbling at the counter over the broken toaster, like a strange picture of domestic living?

It could be anything, everything.

But all he knows is that it’s twisting into something else. Something darker, and sharper, and cold.

Logan starts to tremble in his seat and the fork in his hand damn near snaps in his grip. The bite of food in his mouth tastes like blood- no, it is blood. He’s bitten into his tongue. His heart is racing, and something is tight in his chest, too tight and still tightening. Crushing.

Air isn’t breathable. His lungs won’t let it in.

Whatever stupid song is playing now is muffled by a white hot pulsing between his ears.

… He knows this.

Panic.

This is panic.

Of all the times to break, after days of one problem after another, pain after pain, this is when it happens? Now? While he’s sitting in Wade fucking Wilson’s kitchen, wearing his worn-soft clothes and eating at his table and listening to some soft song on the radio?

Yes, it is.

Pathetic.

Fucking pathetic.

He can’t focus anywhere anymore- it’s too much, too overwhelming, too fucking stupid to reason with- and burning nausea is creeping up his throat.

He’s spiraling. He’s breaking. And he can’t find the fight to beat himself out of it.

Perhaps that’s the reason he doesn’t hear the increasingly desperate ‘Logan?’s behind him or the quick footsteps moving towards the table.

He does startle, however, at a sudden touch to the side of his skull, making him gasp.

His claws gouge the surface of the table and knock over a half-filled water cup but, remarkably, they don’t thrust into the sudden presence pressing to his side.

It takes a good minute to process the situation, much slower than it usually takes him. But he feels the warmth of another person and the pressure of a hand on his head and his head is bent at an odd angle-

Wade, his mind breathes. This is his scent- gunpowder, spandex, and his own strange, unique smell. The touch to the back of his skull is his hand and the press to his cheek is the exposed skin below his shirt.

He’s cuddling him.

Uh-

And because it’s what he does best, Logan rages.

“The fuck are you doing?!” Logan snaps, and he yanks his head back from the other man’s grasp. Or, at least, he tries to.

“Eeeasy Peanut,” Wade hushes, not relinquishing Logan’s head. It's easy to forget the teasing, ridiculous man is incredibly strong. The battle lasts all of two seconds, and Wade’s stubbornness takes the victory. Logan’s cheek presses back to his hip and stays there under the weight of his hand.

“Easy, easy, easy…” Wade mumbles. He hesitates, only for a moment. “Vanessa did this… when shit got really bad.”

He’s quiet. He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t have to. The meaning and weight of the softly spoken words are enough.

There’s a growl starting to rumble in his chest and while he wants to fight against Wade harder- he doesn’t need sentimental crap or, god forbid, pity- Logan takes a breath just long enough to pause here in the moment, and let’s himself feel.

Wade’s hand is cradling his skull and his fingers are threaded through his hair. The weight of them is firm, but not crushing. No, they’re gentle. And they press his cheek and temple into Wade’s side, where the dip of his waist is. Even at the odd angle his neck is bent to, the shape of the dip fits to his face near perfectly and, if obliged to stay here, he would be comfortable. Wade’s body heat- much like his own, running high due to constant cellular regeneration- seeps into him. Into his skin, and then his flesh, and then his bones, settling deep into his chest.

All of it, it… helps.

The revelation startles Logan.

The weight and solidness of Wade is grounding; constant, steady pressure. His warmth slowly relaxes the painful tightness behind Logan’s ribs. Even his smell- showered now, likely before he started cooking, still strange but not unbearable- settles his mind just because it’s there.

Wade… is anchoring him.

Maybe he really should fight this harder, or be annoyed at the coddling, or pissed just because he’s being handled at all, but Logan can’t keep a grip on any of the feelings. He can’t stop the calm that pulls him in and brings him down. It’s so- He’s feels so-

…

… When was the last time he was held?

Not fucked by nameless faces, or hanging on to another person for dear life, or punch near through the stomach- Held.

Was it before- God does it hurt.

… Was it before, when he had his fellow mutant friends and family? Before that?

After?… Definitely not.

Warmth, gentleness, nothing of the kind was what he deserved afterwards. He could never reward himself with something he never showed, and no one offered it to him regardless.

Logan shudders, his breath likely teasing Wade’s skin but, if the other man feels it, he blissfully leaves the fact be.

Wade- warm, solid, annoying as hell Wade- who breaks his train of thought, unaware of it. “Better right? When Vanessa first did this, waaay back in the storyline, I fucking melted like a kid’s ice cream. It’s like the guilty, trauma victim’s morphine.” He pauses, and there’s a grin to his words now. “I also ate her out that first time, but we can wait to do that until the second mental breakdown session, Babygirl.”

Yup. There it is. Asshole.

But Logan just, non-committedly hums, although it's more of a grumble. Yeah, Wade will probably be insufferable after this, smug and a whole new level of too comfortable touching him, but right now, right here, he’s calming.

He’s- something Logan can’t quite name. Or at least, he’s unwilling to.

Call Logan weak, call him pathetic- because he truthfully is, just below the storm in his skin- and like hell does he actually deserve this, but he’s gonna savor it for as long as he possibly can.

Seconds pass, or maybe hours, and the gentle massage of Wade’s fingertips to his scalp continues during it before his hand slides away from Logan’s hair onto his shoulder.

The loss of that contact against his head is disappointing-a private thought- but when Wade shifts like he’s about to move away the disappointment quickly morphs into panic.

He isn’t ready to let go.

He isn’t ready for Wade to leave.

With pure, unthinking action, Logan latches onto the fabric of Wade’s shorts just below the hip he isn’t leaning against. He fists the material into a ball, like he’s afraid the other man will just disappear if he doesn’t hold tight enough.

Like he really is going to wake up, and be alone again with only the memory of coffee and warmth.

Embarrassment quickly reddens his face once he understands what he’s done but, instead of releasing Wade, Logan turns his face into his hip to hide. Clenching his eyes shut for extra precaution.

Weak. Pathetic.

Wade is quiet, his hand hovering above Logan’s shoulder after it was started off but, just as Logan is about to relinquish his hold of the man- he can't bear the unnerving stillness of him- Wade surprises him again.

Quick but gentle, Wade cups the back of Logan’s head and neck, turns ever so slightly to the side, and presses Logan’s forehead to the cushion of his stomach. And just lets the other man stay against him, as he rubs his head and shoulders.

Logan cries a small sound he’s never heard himself make before- something wounded, and relieved, and ragged- but he can’t be bothered to care. Not right now. He releases his death hold on Wade’s shorts and wraps his arms around the other man’s thighs, as flush against him as he can be in their current positions. His hold might be too tight, edging on painful most likely, but Wade doesn’t complain. Doesn’t do anything except this… hold him.

Thank you, thank you, thank you…

“Of course, big guy. Whatever you need.”

Ah, he said that out loud.

… He’ll care about that later. Logan will be pissed, and embarrassed, and in denial at some point, but it’ll all be later. When Wade isn’t cradling him or murmuring soft words. When he isn’t cooking warm food or listening to music on the radio.

When he isn’t making him feel like, for the first time in a long time, he’s allowed to have kindness.

Fucking… Wade.

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 1

When your younger sister is tricked into selling herself to the Doll House, you rush there to help her, only to find her being led away by her trainer, Choso. Moved by your desire to save your sister, he convinces the owner to let you take her place.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Choso’s. I’m keeping the tag list from previous parts. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. FemDom. Sub Choso. Oral sex. Foot kissing. Divider by @benkeibear!

Your phone won’t stop buzzing. Even with the sound turned off, it’s making a racket in your bag, disturbing the important meeting you’re in. With a sigh, you slip it out to look at the Lock Screen. Your younger sister has sent you several messages. Wondering what kind of trouble she’s gotten herself into this time, you tap the latest message to open all of them. 

“Sis, I need your help! It’s an emergency!!!!”

“Yosaku is in trouble with his dad. He needs money right now or the old man’s gonna kill him!!”

“We’re at the Doll House. Yosaku says he’ll win big at the next race and buy out my contract.”

“Guess I’m a doll now! Why won’t you answer me?! This is important!!!”

“The owner went to find a trainer for me. God, I hope I don’t get the BDSM guy!”

“Sis, I’m scared!!! Yosaku left and I don’t think he’s coming back!”

You clench the phone in your hand so hard, you almost break it. 

“Fucking Yosaku!” you shout, then notice the dozen pairs of eyes that all immediately shift to you. You’re so enraged that you forgot you’re in a meeting. You apologize and excuse yourself, quickly leaving the office building where you work and heading toward the Doll House.

Your sister has been dating the son of a small time Yakuza boss for a little over six months now, and the two bit wannabe gangster has already ruined her life. 

Before meeting Yosaku, your sister was always so sweet and never got into trouble. Despite only being four years older than her, you practically raised her. She’s the only family you have, and as such, you’re fiercely protective of her. 

So when she introduced you to Yosaku, six years her senior, good looking in a “bad boy” sort of way, and with a terrible personality, you knew he was bad news. The fact that they started dating almost immediately after she turned eighteen was a big red flag. It’s like he was waiting for her, like a vulture. 

She started getting into trouble within two weeks of meeting him. She got caught shoplifting items he instructed her to take (and he of course fled the scene when she was spotted). He got mad and ditched her in a dangerous part of town one night. He talked her into gambling away all her money. And a whole list of other things. Each time, you had to go and rescue her.  And each time, you begged her to dump him before he got her into real, serious trouble. 

Now she’s at the Doll House? Unbelievable! How could he convince her to give up ten years of her life for him?! You can only hope you make it there in time to stop the sale. 

When you barge in the front door, past a front desk with a startled receptionist, and into a large circular room, you find your sister. She’s being led away by a pale man with a strange hairstyle, and she looks like a deer in the headlights. 

“Stop!” you scream, rushing forward and ripping your sister’s arm out of the man’s hand. “Don’t touch my sister, you pervert!”

You don’t know a whole lot about the Doll system or the Doll House, but everyone knows the basics. The men here train women to be sex toys, usually with some bizarre fetish. A friend once told you a guy here makes his dolls crawl on the ground like a dog while wearing a butt plug. Unimaginable! 

The man looks at you, seeming confused. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not anyone suspicious. I’m just her trainer.”

You place yourself in front of your sister, blocking his view of her. “You think I’m gonna let you train her to do depraved… sex stuff? I won’t let you hurt her!”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” he says, looking a little hurt himself that you would suggest such a thing. “My job is to prepare her to be a doll. I’m helping her.”

He seems so honest, but you can’t let yourself be fooled. “I don’t care what your job is. You can’t have my sister! Look at her, she’s just eighteen! She’s practically a baby! She’s still a virgin! You can’t turn her into-“

“Actually, sis, I’m not a virgin,” you hear your sister say behind you, making you wince. You assumed so, but it sucks to have it confirmed. Fucking Yosaku. 

You look at her over your shoulder. “That’s not important right now.” Then you turn back to the man. “Please, don’t take her. She’s the only family I have. She has her whole life ahead of her.”

The trainer’s face softens slightly, as if he feels bad for you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but she already signed the contract. There’s nothing I can do.”

“But there has to be some way out of this! Her lowlife boyfriend coerced her!”

“What’s going on in here?” a voice asks. 

All of you look over to see a silver haired woman standing just inside the room. She’s holding a silk fan in one hand, the breathless receptionist standing beside her. 

“Who are you?” you ask her. 

She flips a long braid over her shoulder. “I’m the owner of this establishment. And if you’re here to stop a sale, you’re too late. Unless you want to pay some rather punishing fees for breaking the contract.”

You narrow your eyes. “Just how much are these fees?”

The owner snaps her fingers, and the receptionist scurries to grab a pen and paper. The owner writes something on it and the receptionist presents it to you. She wasn’t kidding when she said they were punishing! You’d never be able to pay this back! Even with your pretty good job. Your sister’s credit would be ruined forever. And you’d have to work yourself to the bone and you’d probably still lose everything. 

Your mind races. Think! Think! There has to be a way out of this! An idea pops into your mind. A terrible one, but it’s the only one you have at the moment. 

“What if I take her place?” you ask. 

Your sister steps out from behind you to look you in the face. “Sis, no, this is my-“

“Just be quiet,” you hiss, using the sort of tone you took while caring for her as a child. The “angry mother” tone, she called it. She falls silent. 

The owner looks you up and down. “I don’t know… We’ve never done something like that before.”

You get down on your knees, looking up at the owner with a pleading expression. “Please! My sister is young and naive. She can’t handle life as a doll. But I can! As the older sister, it’s my responsibility to protect her!”

Beside the owner, the trainer’s eyes widen. Then, suddenly, he moves over and gets down to his knees right next to you, bowing his head low. 

“I’m asking as well,” he says to the owner, shocking you. “Out of respect for her wanting to protect her sister, could you let them trade places? The older sister would be more suited to my training anyway.”

The owner looks slightly flustered to be met with such old fashioned, formal pleas. But she sighs and says, “Alright, I’ll go get the paperwork fixed up.”

As she walks away, the trainer stands up, then offers you his hand. Still somewhat in shock, you take it and let him help you up. 

“Thanks,” you tell him. “But why did you help me?”

He gives you a subtle smile. “I understand wanting to protect a younger sibling. I have a little brother I would do anything for.”

Wow, he’s actually pretty cute… for a sex crazed pervert. It just now occurs to you that he’s going to be your trainer now. This cute guy is going to be doing all sorts of depraved things to you! 

Your sister hugs you suddenly, her face wet with tears. “You didn’t have to do that! This was my problem!”

You pull away from her and stroke her hair. “Yes, I did have to do this. Just promise me one thing: that you’ll stay away from Yosaku. He’s dangerous! The next time he gets you into trouble, I won’t be there to help. Don’t make what I’m doing be for nothing.”

Your sister nods. “I promise! I’m all done with him!”

After reading over and signing all the paperwork, you and your sister say your goodbyes. Then you turn to your trainer and say. “Well, I’m all yours.”

He reaches out and gently takes your hand, then leads you down a hallway. He actually seems… sweet? You can’t imagine him doing perverted things to you. But he is a trainer here. Sooner or later, this man is going to have sex with you. You’re not some blushing virgin, but the thought still makes you a little embarrassed. 

Once inside his room, he shuts the door behind the two of you. His room looks surprisingly neat, clean, and comfortable. No crazy props or weird toys hanging on the walls. Thank goodness. 

“Feel free to sit down,” he says, gesturing toward a pair of chairs on either side of a small table. 

You walk over and take a seat, watching him a bit warily. You still don’t know what kind of fetish he specializes in. 

“I’ll tell you about my training,” he says, as if he can read your mind. You sit up straight in the chair to listen as he goes on. “I train women to be Doms. Dominant. I will call you Mistress. My name is Choso but you can call me whatever you like. I will do anything you tell me to. For the next six weeks, I belong to you. Oh, before you ask, I can’t get you out of the contract. That’s up to the owner, not me.”

Wait. What? He’s training you to be a Dom? You’ve heard the term before, but it conjures up an image of a woman in a black leather corset, cracking a whip. You’re supposed to do that stuff with him? 

“So, you’ll do anything I ask?”

He nods. “As long as it doesn’t violate any of the house rules, and is within my power.”

That doesn’t sound so bad. But you’re not naive. You know this is supposed to lead to things of a sexual nature. This is the Doll House after all. But at least you’ll probably get to do things at your own pace. You feel yourself relaxing slightly. 

“Can you get me a cup of coffee?” you ask, curious to see how he responds. 

“Of course, Mistress. How would you like it?”

“Hot. Heavy on the cream, no sugar.”

He gives you a small bow of his head. “Right away, Mistress.”

You watch him leave the room, then exhale deeply. Why does any doll trained by him ever do any of the sex stuff? Why not just make him rub your feet and bring you snacks for six weeks? You suppose that would defeat the purpose of being trained. What was it he called it? Preparing you to be a doll? Whoever your owner ends up being, he’s definitely going to expect some sex stuff. 

But do you have to initiate it? Command Choso to sleep with you? You can’t imagine doing that. 

He walks back in with a steaming cup and reaches it to you as if he’s a butler. You glance up at him, and you think he’d look really good in a butler uniform. 

You noticed it before, but he’s really cute. He’s like a quiet goth guy without the piercings. His hair is styled into two short ponytails, one on either side of his head. It’s not a style you’ve seen before, but it looks good on him. His clothes are a bit baggy, making you curious about what’s under them. 

The coffee is delicious, and Choso watches you drink it silently. After you sit the cup down, he asks, “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

You think for a moment. “You’ll do anything? Even if it’s something embarrassing or demeaning?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

You frown. “I don’t know. It seems wrong to force you to do things.”

A gentle smile appears on his face. “If you’re concerned about consent, please don’t worry. I work here voluntarily because I like doing stuff like this. I’m happy to do anything you want. No matter what it is.”

There’s an eagerness in his voice that makes your heart beat fast. You take a deep breath and say, “Kiss my foot!”

You really just want to test whether he’ll actually do anything you say or not, and this seems like a relatively tame command. Actually it’s not sexual at all. 

Or so you think, until Choso gracefully drops to his knees in front of you and, oh so gently, removes your high heeled shoe from your right foot. Then his hands move to your thigh, sliding just under your skirt. You start to yell at him, but then you realize he’s pulling your stocking down, slowly sliding it down your leg and off your foot. 

His eyes lock onto yours as he carefully lifts your foot up in his hand, holding it up close to his face. He licks his lips, then presses them softly to the top of your foot as his hand caresses your ankle. 

Oh wow. Okay, you kind of get how this all turns sexual. Choso on his knees in front of you, so eager to please, is doing things to you. 

He stands back up, the tiniest hint of a grin on his pale face. He knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t be a very good trainer if he didn’t. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do, Mistress?”

Your heart is racing. You feel your face heating up. Fuck, did he just seduce you with a single kiss to your foot? You cough awkwardly and look away from his pretty face. 

“I’m not sure what else to make you do,” you say, then quickly add, “What would you do if I told you to strip?”

He instantly begins pulling his loose fitting shirt over his head. 

“Wait! I wasn’t serious! I was just messing around!” you yell, but his shirt is already off, dangling from his hand. Your eyes drink in his well defined torso, surprised by how toned he is. A cute face and a hot body? Plus he’s sweet and gentle? Is this guy the total package or what? 

You shake your head. You can’t let yourself fall for him. He’s your trainer. He’s done this same stuff, and much more, with lots of other women. And besides, in six weeks you’ll belong to someone else. You just hope whoever that is has half of Choso’s charm. 

“I’m sorry, Mistress, I thought you wanted me to undress,” he says, pulling his shirt back on. Why does he sound a little disappointed? 

Now you really want to see what he’s packing beneath those baggy pants, but you can’t bring yourself to command him to show you. Not so soon after meeting him anyway. 

“It’s my fault,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He smiles at you. It’s a very warm expression. “Please don’t worry about it, Mistress. I’m here to please you.”

*************************

Choso watches his new doll as she stands up and looks around the room. This will be her room for the next six weeks, so it’s good for her to familiarize herself with it. 

“Can I go get some of my things from home?” she asks. 

“Yes. You can leave the house so long as you come back by nightfall. That’s one of the house rules. If you go out at night, I have to go with you.”

She looks at her watch. “I guess I’ll just go tomorrow,” she says. “So what do we do for dinner?”

“There’s a dining hall where we all usually eat our meals,” he tells her, then goes on to explain what times meals are served and tells her about the small shared kitchen. He goes over some more house rules and also warns her that the other trainers all have their own styles, so she shouldn’t be surprised to see naked dolls or dolls in strange outfits.

She seems to be taking it all in fairly well. 

For dinner, she opts to stay in his room while he fetches plates, saying she isn’t quite ready to meet everyone else. She also tells him to eat at the small table in his room with her. Some dolls, perhaps angry about being dolls in the first place, order him to sit on the floor and eat. It doesn’t bother Choso, but he does think his new doll seems nice so far. 

“So you have a little brother?” she asks over dinner. 

He looks up from his plate, somewhat surprised. Some dolls ask a few basic questions at first, just to get to know him a little, but this one managed to get straight to his favorite topic. He smiles and says, “Yes. His name is Yuji.”

Her face looks kind, pretty, as she asks, “How old is he?”

“Nine,” he answers. “He’s a very energetic child, but he’s very sweet.”

She’s smiling, perhaps thinking of her sister. “He sounds adorable. Do you get to spend much time with him?”

Choso lowers his eyes to his food. “Not as much as I like. We only share one parent, and both of his have died. He lives with his grandfather now. I visit him as much as I can, and he visits me here occasionally. Oh, don’t worry, he doesn’t understand what I do here.”

They talk for a while longer, Choso eventually getting his phone and showing her pictures of Yuji. And he almost forgets, for a few moments, that she’s a doll and he’s her trainer. For those few moments, they’re just two older siblings smiling and talking. 

When night falls, Choso goes to take a shower. When he steps out, dressed in cozy sweats with his wet hair grazing his shoulders, his doll looks at him strangely. 

“Is something wrong?” he asks her, drying his hair with a towel. 

She blinks then averts her eyes. “No, nothing’s wrong,” she says, looking a little embarrassed before adding, “You look nice with your hair down.”

His doll decides to sleep in her clothes tonight, refusing his offer to wear something of his. And when it’s time to go to bed, he asks, “Where would you like me to sleep, Mistress?”

She wears a puzzled expression. “Uh, the bed?”

“Most dolls tell me not to sleep in the bed with them on the first night. I suppose they’re nervous, me being a stranger to them.”

She shrugs. “It’s your bed. It wouldn’t be right to force you out of it. Just don’t touch me and it’ll be fine.”

He stares at her. “You trust me already?”

She smiles as she climbs into his bed, staying on one side. “I think anyone who loves his little brother as much as you love Yuji can’t be a bad person.”

Choso feels his heart skip a beat, but he keeps his face neutral as he gets into bed, keeping a respectful distance from his doll. 

**********************

Two days later, you find yourself sitting in a chair in Choso’s room. He’s standing nearby, waiting for you to tell him to do something. These past couple of days, you’ve had him give you foot rubs, massage your shoulders, and brush your hair. All things pointedly not sexual. But in every case, Choso has made innocent actions seem incredibly sensual. 

The way his hands touch you, the way his eyes look at you with desire, they make you want to order him to fuck you right now. But you can’t do that. You’ve been trying to think of a way to make the orders you give him more sexy, but it’s difficult for you to just tell a man you barely know to start doing sexy things to you. 

You thought he was supposed to teach you how to be a Dom, but when you said that, he replied with, “It’s much better to just learn by experiencing things. So please tell me what you want me to do.”

Which was no help at all. You’re starting to think Choso isn’t a very good teacher. 

If he would just tell you what he wants, what he’d like for you to order him to do, this would be far less awkward! 

Wait. That might work!

“Choso,” you say, and he seems to perk up a bit at the sound of his name. “If you could pick one thing for me to tell you to do, what would it be?”

He smiles mildly. “I’d love to do anything you tell me to do, Mistress.”

“No. Give me a real, honest answer. This is an order from your Mistress. What would you most want to be ordered to do right now?”

He looks at you for a moment, then his eyes seem to get darker, a very slight pink flush to his cheeks. “What I’d most like to be ordered to do,” he says, keeping eye contact with you, “is to pleasure you with my mouth. To get on my knees in front of you while you spread your legs and stand over me, to taste you, to use my tongue to make you cum, over and over, until your legs give out.”

Oh shit. Are you seriously already wet just from hearing him talk about eating you out? There’s a hunger in his eyes, and you feel heat creeping across your face, your breaths quickening. Just imagining his pretty face buried between your thighs is making you horny as hell. 

“Okay then,” you say, standing up and trying to keep your voice steady, trying to sound confident and in charge even though you feel like you’re about to melt into a puddle of goo, “do it. Pleasure me… with your mouth.”

The way his cute, pale face lights up! He drops to his knees on the spot, and slowly crawls over to you. When he reaches you, he puts his hands on your thighs and carefully slides your skirt down, looking you in the eyes as he does it. 

“Mistress, may I please remove your panties?” he asks. 

You feel like you can barely breathe as you nod and say, “Yes, you may.”

His gentle hands rub upwards, until they reach the top of your lace panties, and then he eases them down your legs, helping you to step out of them once they reach the floor. This leaves you standing in his room, naked from the waist down, while he kneels in front of you. 

“Mistress, can you spread your legs?”

You feel your face burning as you move your feet further apart, giving him an eye full of your dripping pussy. He looks at it, then at your face, then licks his lips as if he’s about to dig into a tasty meal. 

And boy does he dig in! He runs his tongue up your slit, collecting any juices he can, then uses his fingers to open your folds. He takes a moment to look at your most private place, then says, “You’re beautiful, Mistress,” before slowly licking your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, then his lips wrap around it, and you can almost hear him slurping at your wetness. 

You look down at his face, only the top half visible, and his eyes shift up to yours. They’re half lidded, looking at you through his long eyelashes. 

As he makes out with your pussy, licking and kissing it so sweetly, taking his time, your legs begin to tremble. The pleasure is simply too much. You’ve been eaten out before, but never like this, never as if your clit is the most delicious thing on earth. 

“Ahh… Choso… I can’t…”

He pauses and glances up. “Are you alright, Mistress?”

“Y-yes, just… don’t stop, even if I tell you to. Not until I collapse,” you say, feeling slightly delirious. Did you really just say that?

“Of course, Mistress,” he says, then returns to devouring you. 

Your hands move to his head, and you find yourself pulling the ponytails free and letting his hair loose. Then you’re gripping it, hopefully not hard enough to hurt. You hear him utter a quiet moan, and the vibration of his voice against your clit as his lips suckle it gently sends you over the edge. 

You cry out, your hands tightening in his hair, your legs shaking and nearly giving way right then and there. His hands move around to your thighs and ass, holding you steady while his tongue laps up any fluids that leak out. You’re quivering, your clit extra sensitive and swollen after your orgasm, and that’s when his wet tongue glides over it again, pushing the hood even further back. 

“W-wait! Oh God… oh fuck!”

Your body jerks, your legs turning into spaghetti as another orgasm hits you within minutes of the first. Choso’s grip on your body is firm, keeping you from crumbling. His lips and tongue are still working at your clit, moving at a faster pace now, making you shudder and moan. 

“Choso… I can’t stand it… feels too good… I can’t…. I can’t…”

His mouth is relentless, pushing you right back to the edge. You know you must be pulling his hair too hard, but you have to grip something or you’ll fall apart. Then, you feel his teeth lightly scrape over your sensitive, overstimulated bud, and you inhale sharply, nearly choking on the air as you cum for the third time. 

It feels like your body is dissolving as all strength leaves you. Choso catches you in his arms and eases you down to the carpeted floor, cradling you. 

“Are you alright, Mistress?” he asks, his lips glistening with your juices. 

You’re still twitching, clutching his arms as you ride out the aftershocks of the three most intense orgasms of your life. You can’t speak, so you just nod to answer him. 

He holds you until you’re able to stand up with his help, then he helps you clean up before tucking you into bed. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he says, and you nod as he goes into the bathroom. You didn’t mention it, but when he was holding you on the floor, your upper half in his lap, you felt a rather impressive erection through his loose pants. You thought about doing something about it, but your mind was a little too hazy at that point. Oh well, you’re certain you’ll get plenty of chances to pleasure him as well. 

You never imagined being a doll before all this, and you’re still angry that things turned out this way, but at least you have Choso as your trainer. You don’t know how things will turn out, who will end up owning you, but at least for now, the situation isn’t too bad. So you fall asleep to the sound of the water running in the shower, knowing Choso will be sleeping beside you again tonight.

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3 @gabriiiiiiii @fvsm4x @tyunhyukamyloves @rottmntrulesall

[punkpandapatrixk]

🎡Cosmic Messages for Workers of Light ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

Those of you who’ve always had a feeling that you were born to do something important; those of you who’ve recently been feeling like you’re being called to something higher than the mundane; YO, this reading has appeared in your Reality now to signal that the lights are green~🥝🥦🥑

Many people have been on different timelines that are now converging as one singular trajectory of where Humanity is heading. It’s a little bit more convoluted than that tho, because we each experience this Game a whole lot differently, too. But essentially, we’re wrapping up karmic cycles and entering a Golden Age of Workers of Light~★

Technically speaking, the essence…the theme…of the New Age of Aquarius is accountability. This is an era of accountability, folks. People can no longer be supported by any kind of cosmic power to perpetuate deceit and the misuse of knowledge.

‘But when knowledge is abused or put to the servility of coining wealth for a few, without respect of the treasury which all inherit, then humanity departs from the machine and all is toil without profit. For the false-hearted who would tear knowledge apart, diminishing the light and shielding its beams from us, will make mechanicals of us all.’ – excerpt from Manifesto of The Guild of Artificers; The Steampunk Tarot

What’s your current timeline? Which trajectory of the future of Humanity are you on? This reading serves as a prelude to what’s going to be revealed more in-depth in the ‘Lion’s Gate Portal to XXX’ PAC~💋

INTELLIGENCE: Mission Mind Control (1979) on Nuclear Vault

TECHNOMAGY: Probability Alteration and Luck (Energetically Programmed Audio) by Sapien Medicine

deck-bottom: XXI The World Rx, Silver Geographer (Francis Drake) & Priestess of Shine

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – You’re Going to Change the World by Making It Innocent Again

ANGEL NUMBERS: variants of 585, 627, 657, 757, 818, 828

the meaning of NOW – 6 of Pentacles Rx

Have you ever had glimpses of imagination, or a sense of knowing, or it’s just a feeling, like you were dropped to Earth by mistake? Perhaps it’s a feeling as if you were a Greek god banished from the realms of the gods and entered Earth as a form of punishment? Or a bit of a feeling like you got scammed and arrived on the wrong Planet? LMAO Why am I thinking of that Bollywood movie called ‘PK’?

The alien kid arrived on a strange Planet: Earth. And Humanity—Indian primarily—befuddles the living shit out of him XD I think you’ve known for quite a while that you’re not from around here. You’ve never really fit in. I think you weren’t treated nicely by most people—could be your own blood ‘family’, could be your schoolmates, teachers, neighbours. Just basically, you’re seen as a bit of a freak.

It’s hard for you to feel a sense of community. No matter what stage of Life you are in, it’s always felt like that. If at the moment of reading this you’re older in age, I think you’re managing a lot better now. You’ve learnt to be OK with your own company because you’re the most smartest and interesting person you could have conversations with. But if you’re comparatively younger, you’re probably still going through the motion, and that’s OK, because it’s just part of the lore building ;P

bridging the future – King of Wands

The simplest truth about your existence is that you aren’t meant to ‘grow up’ in the same sense as most other people do. Growing up is a wonderful thing, of course, we all need to grow up and become smarter and amazinger! But what doesn’t sit right with you is people’s twisted idea of ‘growing up’ is all about. To most lame-ass Humans on this Planet, ‘growing up’ means abandoning the core essence of what makes you, you.

On this Planet, ‘growing up’ means letting go of your innocence and simple kindness in exchange for survival and brutality (in the workplace, I guess). Here on this Planet, ‘growing up’ means burning your passion to ashes; not living Life fuelled by a burning passion. Here, ‘growing up’ means being punished for authenticity and the childlike courage to question authority. Growing up, here, means becoming complicit to evil abuse of power and greed.

How are you supposed to comply to any of that? Don’t you realise how pure your Heart is? Your sense of justice is clear since day one. It’s something you may not be able to express clearly but you know what’s right and wrong on the basis of what’s good and bad for people as….just people…not numbers or statistics or traffic or casualties. ‘People are PEOPLE, dammit!’

you’re going to MAKE IT – 3 of Cups Rx

You’re befuddled? This world is befuddled! If you’ve chosen this Pile as your main pile, you have it written in your Soul’s blueprint that you’re going to be involved in the politics of the world. Yes, some of you could become politicians or activists, but even those that aren’t interested in any of that, you’re still going to have opinions and perspectives that touch on the subject of Humanity and how psychopath politicians are fucking things up for Humans.

You know what I mean? Some of you could become world players that implement new laws and principles in your society. Some of you will have the power to influence public opinions so that people begin to demand accountability from their corrupt governments. Back to basics, baby. What is Humanity, basically? What does it mean to even be Human living in a Human World, basically? You’ve questioned all of this and you will one day have a platform to extend this musing to a larger audience.

The lights are GREEN now. You’ve experienced so much personal conflict with people who don’t understand your values, all so you would learn to forge connections with people who are just as innocently passionate as you are. That was your training ground, bitch~♥︎ Your personal experiences were a microcosm model of what’s going to sweep out the entire world in the coming decades, if not centuries.

Basically, it's time nations started actually taking care of their own issues before they raid and destroy other nations for resources is what your Soul is understanding.

TIMELINE🔻💛

daydreaming – Gold Magus (Johannes Faustus)

engaging in Reality – Priestess of Innocence

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Pile 2 – You’re Not Confused; This World Is; So You’re Alright

ANGEL NUMBERS: variants of 111, 123, 222, 414, 444, 647

the meaning of NOW – 9 of Cups

Head in the clouds, baby? You’re the type of person who has many dreams and ideas, and it’s like, it’s easy for you to get interested in all kinds of pursuits. But then, it’s also just as easy to lose interest in all of those novelties; it feels like your heart and mind are always being pulled by newer interests or topics. I’m reminded of this meme or whisper that says something like, ‘Not tonight babe. A YouTuber has just posted a 4-hour video about a topic I’ve never heard about before.’

You like to study new things or basically just drown yourself in new hobbies/interests because you’re trying to make sense out of your very existence. I think you’ve felt incredibly confused your entire Life. If not ‘confused’ per se, it still feels like you’re lacking a sense of direction. You don’t really know what’s the purpose of being here on this Planet. You’re weirded out by the fact that you’re not motivated by the same things that others have convinced you to get excited about.

‘Why am I not motivated by these promises and achievements? Damn, I simply can’t be motivated by something as unromantic as that. There’s no Life in any of those pursuits. My God, what should I be interested in for me to motivate myself to make something out of myself? I really don’t know what to pursue in this world. I don’t even know how to live…’ So you continue to daydream but your heart is quite heavy sometimes.

bridging the future – Ace of Cups Rx

Pile 2, you are magic, you know that? Being the way that you are, you aren’t in the wrong for being rather ‘impractical’. If anything, you’re so high-vibrational that you still remember that physical manifestation comes from the dream world first. I think you’d resonate with being a very Feminine person, aenergetically speaking? Maybe you have a strong Moon/Neptune placement in your birth chart as well.

You remember on a Soul level that all dreams can become real as long as you keep on to them. Your being a dreamer who dreams ‘too much’ is not wrong; it is this world that’s too rigid and restrictive. It’s grotesque how society has set up so many rules that limit what a being as divine as you can and can’t do/create. They say the sky’s the limit; in your case, your faith’s the limit.

There are many wonderful things that you want to make manifest but you often tell yourself that you’re dreaming too much or that there’s no way someone like you could ever achieve that. That’s where you’re doing ‘wrong’: the not believing in your own ability to create your dream Life. Remember that successful people usually say that the Life they have now exceeds even their ‘wildest’ dreams.

So dream wild. Dream big. Even if you don’t believe you can exceed your expectations, can’t you still believe that you’ll manifest something very similar?

you’re going to MAKE IT – 9 of Wands Rx

Stop stopping yourself, OK? Stop gaslighting yourself for fuck’s saké. Right now, you need to stop believing that Life’s supposed to be hard work and lived logically. You literally deserve to get paid for just existing. That sounds extra narcissistic but hope you get the idea. This modern society that favours hard work and believes that only after you’ve worked really hard can you then be worthy of a lot of abundance is stupid. This world is confused. People have forgotten the essence of dreaming and living in ease.

Some of you will resonate with being a fairy or an elven soul, and so you believe from the depths of your heart that people should be allowed an easy existence in harmony with nature. Some of you will resonate with being a futuristic alien android being who believes that human lives can be made easy with the right use of technology.

All in all, cosmically speaking, your Soul came into this world to be a ‘lazy’ genius who will switch things up for Humanity so that everybody can have an easier time existing on this Planet. Geniuses are never lazy, bitch. Not in the mind! If wanting things to be more streamlined and easy to do makes a person ‘lazy’ that’s hilarious. So what’s a not-lazy person? A low-IQ idiot who perpetually works hard because they got scammed by capitalism?

TIMELINE🔻💙

daydreaming – Green Magus (John Dee)

engaging in Reality – Priestess of Ambition

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Pile 3 – Illuminate Others’ Paths by Simply Expressing Your Truth

ANGEL NUMBERS: variants of 211, 217, 303, 522, 814, 999

the meaning of NOW – 3 of Swords Rx

Do you know that you’re an energy worker? I almost feel you’re a miracle worker. You’re somebody who has a special power in the way that you express yourself, whether in writing or spoken. It’s not so much what you say or write or do, it’s HOW you say or do or write your truth that moves people’s hearts. You have the power to stir some shit up in people’s aenergetic fields LOL

You have both the power to destroy your enemies and heal those who want to get better in the world. If your power is speech, it’s the aenergy with which you talk that empowers people. Ionno, think JFK, MLK? Or some fascinating YouTubers who make us feel like, ‘Oh this guy/gal is my spirit animal!!!’ It’s their aenergy, right? Same with writing or any other thing that you do. It comes natural to you to create some kind of a ripple in people’s consciousness.

For other people, just tuning in your aenergetic space stirs them. That’s why you experience a lot of extremes. Good-hearted people feel immensely healed, comforted and uplifted in your presence or when they talk/text with you. But the false-hearted ones, they also know there’s something about you that calls out their bullshit even when you’re not ‘saying’ anything. There’s something about you that inspires people to be better! And that’s fucking annoying to narcs and the losers of the world LMAO

bridging the future – 10 of Pentacles Rx

I see that you’re honestly not the kinda person who’s ambitious about changing the world, about influencing the world. Not in that ambitious manner like some activist or whatever. Your Soul is very incredibly superbly soft; you ain’t an activist, you’re an artist; you ain’t a fighter, you a lover, baby~ So I get that you sometimes don’t really know what to do with yourself XD Like there’s this desire to heal the world, but you don’t think of yourself as someone who’s fighter enough or strong enough to do any of that.

WRONG. You’re the kinda entity who’s already doing all that healing stuff by simply being the amazing person that you are. Your aenergy is like a combination of both Pile 1 and 2. The half of you is superbly soft and dreamy and you’re so kind and empathetic; the other half of you is fiercely protective of those who are hurting, and you do a lot to make things better and easier for them—in your own practical, seemingly small ways.

The good news is, you really don’t have to be a fighter if it doesn’t suit you. Basically, you just have to be yourself and express your truth. In whatever way you find most suitable to you. Your power lies in your communication, self-expression, connection. You’re going to be a trend-setter, babe~ A trend-setter of authenticity, yup, ‘real authenticity’, ironically; not ‘fake authentic’ that’s propagated by a lot of narcs on the Internet LOL

you’re going to MAKE IT – 3 of Pentacles

With narcs who are pretending so HARD at being good, you know it’s all skin-deep; it’s all just jargon. And they’re gonna get really good at weaponizing self-love concepts to justify shit behaviour, deadbeat behaviour, toxic tendencies, gaslighting atrocities and all that shit, you know? With you, your VIBRATIONS can’t be faked, let alone emulated. The world needs a role model like you. That’s why you’re going to make it. Your Soul Mission ain’t just about you, babe~

You’re literally going to be the example whom people bear witness for what being authentic is all about. They will watch you and come to their own conclusion what a genuine soul looks like. You’re reminding me of Dr Jordan B Peterson. Yep, that kinda vibe. Be weird all you want, be scandalous all you want, the right people will see that your INTENT has been good all along. And in that sense, the people who CHOOSE to view you badly are the CLOWNS, and they’re gonna be proving that to themselves.

In essence, most people’s idols are all LIARS!!! You’re meant to break that, destroy that, and usher in a new era of influencers/celebs/thought leaders/spiritual teachers/all kinds of public figures that actually operate on Light—real information and real intent—instead of fake-ass jargon that lies to people’s faces with semantics and optics! Your aenergy is insane it’s literally gonna change the world massively, and upon finding this reading, you’re riding on the winds of CHANGE so get fucking READY, bitch~! \`★_★`/

TIMELINE🔻🧡

daydreaming – Green Astronomer (Nicolaus Copernicus)

engaging in Reality – Priestess of Illumination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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[five-rivers]

One day Danny comes home to his parents having tea with clockwork

I rather liked this. Here's the AO3, and I might continue it later.

.

Oh, of course Clockwork didn't look like Clockwork. That is, he looked like himself, or else Danny wouldn't have recognized him, but he didn't look like a ghost, or else Danny was sure the scene wouldn't be nearly as peaceful - or unbelievable - as it was.

He blinked a few times. Hard. The scene didn't change. Clockwork - or Clockwork's human twin - was sitting at the kitchen table with Danny's parents. Sipping tea.

Danny hadn't even known they had tea in the house.

As Danny stared, Clockwork met Danny's eyes and winked. Neither Maddie nor Jack, who was enthusiastically describing their latest ghost capturing invention (something to do with a modified leaf blower), noticed. So. Clockwork. Not Clockwork's twin.

What was happening? What was happening right now? Why was Clockwork here? Had Danny screwed over the timeline somehow? And if he had, why wasn't Clockwork just grabbing future versions of Danny's enemies to assassinate him again? Why was he talking to Danny's parents? In a human disguise of all things?

Thinking about it made Danny's palms itch and his heart speed up, and he wasn't the best at being subtle when he was anxious.

"Uh, hi," he said, loudly, putting on just a touch of teenage lackadaisical spin, "who are you?"

"Oh, Danny!" said Maddie. "You're home early."

Danny winced. He got detention often enough that his parents usually didn't expect Danny home for another hour. The ghost fighting didn't help, either. Of course, the ghost fighting was why he got so many detentions. That and stuffing Dash's locker full of FentonWipe. And being associated with Sam. He had to admit that was also a significant contributor to his detention time.

What had he been thinking of again?

Rather, what had he been avoiding thinking of again?

Right. Clockwork. His parents. Tea. His future doom. The potential end of the world, as initiated by him, personally.

“Uh, yeah,” said Danny.  “I guess I am.  But…” He tried to gesture at Clockwork without pointing, which was rude enough that Maddie would comment.  

“I was just describing our new Fenton Blow design to our new neighbor, Clark!  Two new things at once!  It’s like it’s double new!”  Jack jumped up and picked up Clockwork’s chair so he could turn it to face Danny.  Clockwork continued to calmly hold his tea throughout the motion.  

“Neighbor?” squeaked Danny.  

Something that had been constant at FentonWorks for as long as Danny could remember was that it didn’t have neighbors.  The properties adjacent to FentonWorks weren’t empty, exactly, but people didn’t live there.  One was a vacation rental that saw the most traffic during Halloween.  The building on the other side was a community store where people in the area sold things they’d made.  And the back lot was split between a haunted house attraction and a rare permanent Spirit Halloween store.  

FentonWorks was maybe a bit of a tourist destination.  But it wasn’t as if normal, sane people would live anywhere near FentonWorks.  

Clockwork was neither normal nor sane.  Obviously.  Still, even he had to hesitate at being next to Danny’s parents.  

What property had he bought, anyway?  It wasn’t like there were a lot of options.  

Danny would not be able to cope if he’d bought the haunted house.  

Why was he here?

“Yes,” said Maddie, “he bought the place behind us.  The costume store.  We were talking about how he could make the costumes more accurate.”

Clockwork cleared his throat.  “Assuming that I will continue to manage the franchise is somewhat premature, but your work is truly fascinating.”

Maddie smiled.  “Oh, you’re a charmer.”

Jack laughed as well.  “Almost as smooth as Vladdie used to be, huh?”  He patted Clockwork on the shoulder.  “Good times, good times!  We’re going to have a lot of fun!”

Oh god, were they flirting?  Danny was glad he didn’t have a much of a gag reflex since half-dying.  

“If you aren’t going to be running the Spirit store, what are you going to do?”

“Previously, I owned and managed an antique store.  Worthy Antiques.”  A small smile playing around his lips, he took another sip of tea.  

“From his name!” said Jack.  “Clark Worth!  Isn’t that clever?”

Danny knew he didn’t have any room to talk about pseudonyms, but that was… Wow.  That was blatant.  Of course, the whole thing was blatant.  Still.  

“Sell many clocks?” Danny asked, because he was an idiot and had some sort of death wish.  

“A few,” said Clockwork.  “People do seem to like antique clocks.”  

“Why move to Amity Park?” asked Danny, taking a few steps over to the table so he could stand between Clockwork and his parents.  Was the gesture futile?  Yep.  Was he doing it anyway?  Yep.  

“Issues with the local government.  You seem to have it handled quite nicely here.”

“That’s true!” said Jack.  “We’ve got the government in the bag down here!”

“Yes, we’ll have to show you what they did when they hit us with zoning complaints of all things,” said Maddie.  

Danny was not hearing this.  He wasn’t here.  This was some kind of impossible fugue state.  Or a hallucination.  Or a dream.  It could be Nocturne.  It wasn’t like he was above using people’s fears, conscious or otherwise, to mess with them.  

But, if he could put his parents being weird aside (a task difficult bordering on impossible), then what did Clockwork mean by local government?  Walker?  Pariah Dark?  Could Danny even take Clockwork’s words as an analogy?  He could just lie.  It wasn’t as if ghosts were bound to be honest.  

“It is time for me to go now, unfortunately.  Thank you for the company and the excellent tea.”

“No problem!” said Jack.  “We didn’t even know we had it!”

“Feel free to drop by any time, it was lovely to have you over,” said Maddie, reaching over to Clockwork’s hands.  

“That’s very gracious of you.  Allow me to extend the same invitation to you and your family,” said Clockwork.  He stood up, raising the empty teacup towards Danny in a sort of toast before putting it back down.  “It was wonderful to meet you as well, Daniel.”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  Then, grudgingly, “You, too.  I can show you out.”

“No need,” said Clockwork.  “I know the way.”  He gave them all a short, shallow bow, then left.  

Danny looked at his parents. 

“Wow!  What a great guy!” said Jack, planting his hands on his hips.  “Hope his business works out!”

“Twenty percent of new businesses fail in the first two years,” said Maddie.  

“But he’s got experience,” argued Jack.  “And, who knows, maybe we’ll be customers!  Lots of haunted antiques out there, huh?”

“Yes… I wonder… Could we modify the Fenton Finder to determine what kinds of objects are most likely to be haunted…”

Before Danny could get sucked into whatever antique-related discussion his parents were about to have, he slipped away up the stairs.  He needed backup for this.  Lots of backup.  

.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam over the phone.  “Who?”

“Clockwork,” said Danny.  “You know, the one who sent us into the messed up future where I was evil and you were dead.”

“His name was Clockwork?”

“Yeah?  Did you–  Did you not know that?”

“I’ve got him down in my book as Clockstopper,” added Jazz, helpfully.  

“Isn’t that, like, a movie?” asked Tucker, fiddling with his PDA.  “With a kid who can stop time?”

“It’s the watch that can stop time,” said Danny, distractedly.  “Did I not tell you his name?  I’m sure I told you his name.”

“Didn’t we lose half a day of time in there where we all died again?” asked Tucker.  “I remember something about that.”

How did Danny tell them about that and not Clockwork’s name?  Seriously.  He had to get his priorities right.  And figure out how not to break down and spill potentially traumatizing information whenever Sam and Tucker prodded him even a little.  

(Was it a response to keeping a million secrets from everyone else?  Probably.  But lying had been invented for a reason.  A million reasons.  And one of them was not traumatizing your friends.)

He rubbed his face.  “Okay, so, the guy’s name is Clockwork.  Clockwork.  Not Clockstopper.  He’s the Master of Time.  He actually helped me once, when Vlad gave you two ecto-acne.  Well.”  His expression pinched inward.  “Sort of.”

“What do you mean, ‘sort of?’” asked Sam, leaning forward.  

“He, uh.  Kind of unpersoned me.  Or let me unperson myself.  I’m… Yeah.  Okay.  More the second one.  But he sent me off to do it.  I’m actually not clear on how he undid it…  What?”

“You know,” said Tucker, who was now looking up from his PDA, “I didn’t really question it when you brought back the cure at the time, but I really should have, huh…”

“Yeah, you’re going to have to run through how you got unpersoned,” said Sam.  

“What do you even mean by unpersoned?” said Jazz, concerned.  “Like in 1984?”

“Uh,” said Danny.  “I never read that.  Does it involve time travel?”

“Danny…”

“He’s dodging the question,” said Tucker.  “What did you do, Danny?”

Danny squirmed.  “We’re talking about why he’s here.”

“A conversation that would be much improved by telling us about your past interactions with him,” said Jazz.  She had produced a pen and notebook from somewhere.  

“I barely interacted with him that time.  We were only in the same room for, like, ten minutes, total.  The part where I was the subject of a ‘would you murder baby Hitler’ question is much more relevant.”

“Actually, why didn’t Clockwork murder baby Hitler?” said Sam, somewhat indignant.  “Actual baby Hitler.  Not Danny.”

“He didn’t kill me, anyway, and future me wrecked the entire planet, as far as I could–”

“Wait, wait,” said Jazz.  “I’m still writing this down.”

“You don’t need to write this down.”

“Don’t worry, I’m doing it in code.  Basically unbreakable.  Just a minute…”  She licked her lips, then, slowly, sounding out the words, she said, “Time… master…”

“Clockwork.  His name is Clockwork.  Why are you like this?”

“I think it’s just how siblings are,” said Sam.  

“You’re an only child,” Tucker pointed out.  “What would you know?”

“I’ve watched my cousins.  It’s basically the same.”

“That’s completely different,” said Tucker.  

“Okay, okay,” said Danny.  “I thought that maybe if Vlad had never become a half ghost, then he’d never have gotten ecto-acne, and he wouldn’t have wanted to give you guys ecto-acne.  Or have even been able to.  So I asked Clockwork to send me back to his accident and pushed him out of the way.”

“And then the butterfly effect meant that you were never born?” asked Sam.  “Actually, no one born after that would have been the same as the people who were born after it in this world…  Would they?”

Danny shrugged.  “I didn’t really look into that, to be honest.  I was kind of distracted by, uh.  Dad having gotten hit instead.  I didn’t really realize…  Mom and Dad were like right behind him.”

Jazz looked up at him in horror.  

“It didn’t actually happen,” said Danny.  “Or, uh, it hasn’t’ve happened now?”  What tense what he even supposed to use here?

“No, no, it isn’t that,” said Jazz.  “It’s just that they had no lab safety even in college.  It’s a miracle they’re still alive.  But does that mean Dad was a half ghost?”

“Yeah.”

“And how did Mom take that?”

“Not sure, actually.  They were kind of.  Not married.”  He waited for Jazz to flip out.  She’d freaked badly enough when it just looked like they might get a divorce.

Instead, she just nodded.  “That makes sense,” she said.  

“It does?” 

“Yeah, Dad’s socially awkward enough to begin with.  If he was isolated the same way Vlad was when he was sick, there’s no way he’d be able to keep up a relationship.  I don’t think they were even dating at that point.”

“Right, well, anyway, after I figured that out, I knew I had to undo it.  A bunch of stuff happened, but I eventually got back to Clockwork and he reset it.  So that’s it.  Whole story.  Can we get back on topic?”

“Pretty sure you're lying, but whatever,” said Sam.  “But what do you expect us to do in this situation?  It kind of feels like he could just wave his hands and… poof.”

“Yeah, he was definitely not trying in that fight,” added Tucker.  

Way to be supportive, guys.  Jeez.  “I'm not going to fight him.”

“Good, if you were, I'd be asking Jazz to check you for a concussion.”

“I just want to know what he wants.  Like, if he's here because I've screwed up the timeline again or what.  But the guy talks in riddles - not literal riddles.”  Danny just knew Jazz would start calling him Riddle Master or something if Danny didn't clear that up fast.  “But he doesn't give straight answers.”

“At least we know he's not homophobic.”

“Tucker, that joke was only funny the first ten times.”

“It's always funny.”

Sam cleared her throat.  “And is that something we can do something about?”

“Yeah.  Sort of, anyway.  It's just… I know what my life is like.  I know what I’m like.  If I go talk to him alone, I’ll miss something or say something stupid.  But you guys actually pay attention to stuff.  You think about things.  I need you to come with me so I don’t say something sarcastic and wind up on a cross-time road trip to learn about the importance of customer service.”

“If we could stop you from saying dumb things, you’d have a lot less detentions,” said Sam.  

“So you’re going to abandon me?  Your best friend?  To a ghost who’s beaten him up before?”

Sam rolled her eyes.  “Don’t be so dramatic.  I didn’t say I wouldn’t go with you.  I’m just pointing out that you’ll have to put in a little effort if you want us to be your time ghost lawyers or interpreters or whatever.”

“I will!  That’s why I want you to come with me.”

“Well, I’ll come with you, at least,” said Jazz.  “I want to know more about this Clockstopper.”

Danny squinted at him.  “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“I’ll come with you, too,” said Tucker.  “But if we wind up on a customer service road trip, I will be blaming you.”

“Well, yeah,” said Danny.  “That’s a given.”

“I can’t go tonight,” said Sam.  “Family dinner.  Tomorrow?  Right after Danny gets out of detention?”

“You don’t know I’ll have detention tomorrow.  I haven’t gotten one yet.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” said Sam.  

[clairedaring]

if you're hoping for joe 2.0 to get his 'revenge' in the second half of the series...

warning: mild novel spoilers (but also not really because i'm just discussing things that have been shown in the trailer)

i really think you should either drop the series or give up the hopes of a satisfying makjang revenge storyline in my stand-in instead of setting yourself up for disappointment. because that simply isn't the story that my stand-in is trying to tell.

so what is my stand-in about really?

well, for me i think its a romance tragicomedy drama about an idiotic scum male lead losing the person he loves most because of his own arrogance and refusal to listen to his heart and the series of unfortunate events that happened consequently for our protagonist who was living a peaceful and quiet life as a stunt actor before the scum male lead entered his life.

joe 2.0 and his approach to life

i've mentioned it twice now that one of my favorite traits of joe/zhou xiang is that kindness in his strength where even if he can be choose to be mean or cruel, he simply doesn't because he has such a soft heart and he's weak to see others in pain (joe is my fellow enfp people pleaser okay) (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ which is why even in his 2.0 life, you won't get to see joe turning 180 degree and going around to hurt everyone who's ever hurt him like it's some makjang kdrama.

and while that seems like it could be fun, i think the reason why i loved professional body double (my stand-in novel) so much in the first place is because that very distinction between joe and other rebirth/second chance at life protagonists that you often see in revenge kdramas/cdramas/thai lakorns.

logically, if my stand-in was a 24-episode one31 lakorn/thai soap opera, joe would be full of hatred and burning rage after his rebirth and started his intricated revenge plot while still falling in love with ming whom he should hate the most.

and yet he isn't (or at least it seems to me so far).

if you read the lyrics 'Die For You' - the opening ost of my stand-in, i think you can have a good guess of what the second half of the story will be like.

Even running away to death can't help. If my heart had chosen to stop at you I'll have to surrender with the confusion I feel. To come back to the same old place. Even if I have to die, disappear and then be reborn But the love is still buried deep inside, even if it's been shattered into pieces Even if my life ends, I can't stop my heart from calling out to you Because this whole body, life, spirit It is yours only, for all eternity.

and even from the trailer of my stand-in, you can tell that joe 2.0 has a lot of internal conflicting feelings about whether he could trust ming again after the betrayal he faced in his 1.0 life. and i feel like essentially the journey of ming proving to joe 2.0 that he really does love joe is very much the central plot in the second half part of the story.

so i'd like to take this part to note how well the series has done to adapt the novel so far. i think a good adapted change they've made is this early realization of feelings for ming in the joe 1.0 timeline. i do think the novel made him realized his feelings a little bit later but my stand-in did well to show within ep.3 what happiness could have looked like for joe 1.0 and ming and i think it rationalizes a bit more more for why joe 2.0 would still have feelings for ming 'buried deep inside' even when he's been badly hurt the first time around. and reading the story i've always found it interesting that they took this route to focus on the re-entangled complex relationship between mingjoe rather than going for a joe-centric revenge makjang plot (i swear if this was your typical thai lakorn, joe would seduce ming while planning to take down his whole family or something).

of course, that's not to dismiss that there's a lot of character growth for joe in the second half of the story, especially in his building of self-confidence, self-worth, the ability to put himself first and the fight for his own happiness above all. but like i've mentioned above, his growth journey is not at the expense of a drastic personality change in regards to the kind hearted joe we saw in his 1.0 life. instead, we get kind hearted joe 2.0 who quickly adapts to his new life and attempts to start anew while conflicted feelings resurface for him as he is pulled back into the relationships he once had.

all in all, my stand-in is still at the heart of it, a love story. perhaps, a dark romance as my friend @dragonsandphoenix would call it, but a romance nonetheless. i think that is what also makes professional body double such a compelling read too, because the progression in the feelings and complex emotions of these characters are so tightly written that it's convincing enough for me (maybe not for others though) to believe that yan ming xiu has/will always love zhou xiang (to the point ymx would probably eliminate anyone else who dared to steal zx from him). obsessive love? yes. do they both need therapy? probably. yet i still believe in their happy ending? of course.

final note/disclaimer: then again, this is just my PERSONAL opinions based on the novel and up til 3 episodes of my stand-in (which seems to be very faithful to the novel so far), who knows maybe they can anger novel fans and adapt it completely differently later on (something i sure hope they don't but we'll seeeee) ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

[talesofesther]

what once was mine | ch 3

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: We're finally heading into the main plot I think lol. Hope y'all like this one, let me know. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 2 here

"Casey!" You called, hurriedly walking between the rows of files while looking down at the paperwork in your hands. TVA's library was either your favorite place or the place you hated the most. No in-between. It was your favorite when you stopped by to lounge in the armchairs and read your books in the calming silence. But when you had to traverse between the cramped shelves in search of files, that's when you hated it.

"Casey?" You called again, still turning the pages with a frown on your face.

"Yeah, what's up?"

The sudden voice caught your attention and you raised your head just in time to not walk straight into your friend. You chuckled to yourself, coming to stand beside him in the small space between the tall shelves. "I was going through this report and it mentions a code 581, I've never heard that one before." With your finger, you pointed to the underlined letters on the report.

"Oh, that's a fun one," Casey smiled, taking the papers from your hands, "it's kind of a rare case actually, it's when two variants appear simultaneously…"

While you spoke with Casey, all the way on the other side of TVA's weirdly shaped building, and one floor above, stood Mobius with Loki by his side; both of them leaning on the railings and observing you from afar.

"How long did you say she's been here?" Loki asked, his eyes never leaving your form. His face had a complicated expression, almost as if he was still figuring out how to feel about actually seeing you, the same girl from the life he was supposed to have.

"I didn't, I said that time passes differently here in the TVA," Mobius spoke beside him, his eyes slowly shifting between you and Loki. "But, if I had to guess I'd say the equivalent of around two years."

It's been a couple of weeks since Loki arrived, and in his time here he's been quite helpful for the TVA; not enough to catch the rogue variant, but enough to earn his end of the bargain.

"Is it a habit of yours to keep variants around then?" Loki turned to Mobius with a raised brow.

"Not at all," Mobius chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "You two are the only ones so far, and you can thank me for that, by the way."

Loki pursed his lips as he shifted his gaze back to you. He watched as you spoke with Casey, huge smile on your lips as you gestured around saying something he couldn't understand. "Why keep her?" He asked quietly.

Mobius sighed, following the path of Loki's gaze toward you. "Same reason as you, pretty much. She was very... familiar with the Loki from her timeline and I figured she could be of help to us. At first, she was a very tough nut to crack, but it was either that or be pruned so eventually, she agreed, and has helped capture many Loki variants in her time here."

A scoff went past Loki's lips. His hands gripped the railings tighter, heartbeat quickening with each passing second that brought him closer to meeting you. Why he felt this way, he couldn't tell; it was as if his body knew something he didn't. "And, by her timeline, you mean my timeline as well?"

"Technically, yes."

─── ·❆· ───

"Thank you, Casey, I'll see you at lunch," you gave your friend a small wave as you turned to go in opposite directions. The ghost of a smile lingered on your lips as you closed the file's folder, but it faded immediately as soon as you looked up.

Mobius stood in front of you, he said your name but it sounded like a whisper drowned underwater to your ears, for you were focused on the person a few steps behind him. He had the same raven black curls, the same sharp nose, fair skin, and bright eyes; his features being highlighted by the artificial lights from TVA's infinite floors. He was a ghost. The one from your worst nightmares and most beautiful dreams. A ghost of your past life, one that instantly got your heartbeat skyrocketing and closed up your throat until you couldn't breathe, or talk, or even think.

You were nearly making holes into the file in your hands with the force you held it with, knuckles going white.

Taking a step closer, Mobius called your name again. He tried reaching out towards you but you took a sharp step back. "There's someone who would like to meet you," he settled for saying, calmly, gesturing behind him.

Forming words became a struggle for you. Your lips parted only to tremble with no sound coming from your mouth. Inhaling sharply, you straightened your posture. "No." You said with finality, your eyes not leaving the ones that reminded you of your Loki.

A frown appeared on his features and he looked like he was about to speak, but you beat him to it, finally looking at Mobius; "You. Me. Storage room, now."

With that, you turned around and took urgent steps to the back of the library, shoving open the door that led to a small storage room for older files no one needed anymore. You turned the switch for the single orange light hanging from the ceiling and then clawed at your scalp, trying your best to regulate your breathing.

Mobius walked in, closing the door behind him. "Listen I can-"

"Explain?" You finished for him, urgency and anger dripping from each syllable, "yeah, you better. What was that? Who is he?"

"We were about to get to that before you stormed off." Mobius shrugged.

"Cut the bullshit, Mobius," you sighed, hands coming to rest on your waist.

"He's a Loki, you've met a hundred of them already."

You bit your lip to hold back the tears stinging behind your eyes. "Yeah, I have, and none of them were-" you hesitated, "None of them looked like-" You swore under your breath when your voice betrayed you.

"Your Loki?"

Mobius' quiet words got you closing your eyes, there was compassion in his voice, being one of the only people here who really knew what you've been through. A long sigh escaped your lips, along with some of the anger, leaving room only for the emptiness that has been following you around for years now.

"Is he?" You were afraid to know, but you asked anyway.

"He was going to be," Mobius took a step closer to you, and this time you allowed him to rest a hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your dress shirt. "He came from your timeline, roughly after his attempt at taking over earth."

An unamused chuckle escaped your lips and a single tear ran down your cheek, but you were quick to wipe it away. "Jesus, Mobius. You can't be serious." You looked him straight in the eyes then, voice strained; "you can't be doing this to me."

"He insisted," Mobius raised both hands in front of his chest in a halfhearted attempt to calm you down. "He insisted, okay? He saw you in his file, he wanted to know who you were. What was I supposed to do? He saw you and didn't know who you were but it was clear that you were important, and he felt that too."

A beat of silence passed, and then; "I mean," Mobius chuckled softly, shaking his head; "you should have seen his eyes when he saw you, he looked worse than you do now."

You sniffled, avoiding your teary eyes from his gaze. "What were you supposed to do? Well, what about talking to me first, you oaf," you told him, though there was no malice in your words.

"I'm sorry," Mobius shrugged, not sure of what else he could say to you. "I just figured it wouldn't be fair to either of you if I didn't introduce you. Or, reintroduced you."

You doubted you'd be able to form a coherent thought in your mind right now with the amount of emotions you were going through. But you knew he was right, deep down you did. You just weren't sure what to make of it yet, seeing a Loki who would eventually become your Loki; who, essentially, was your Loki. Just not yet.

It nearly sent you into a panic attack. Seeing him again was all you ever wanted when you lost him, yet now that it's happening, you're not sure if you can handle it. Or if you still want it.

Mobius tried to find your gaze with his, and as if reading your mind, he said; "Isn't this what you wanted when you first got here? To see him again?"

"That's not me anymore, Mobius," you spoke before you could stop yourself. "I'm- I'm not that person anymore." Your voice was quiet, muffled behind the walls you'd built around your wounded heart. "Besides, that's-" You stumbled over your words, tasting your tears on the corner of your lips, "that's not him. That's not the Loki I knew."

"How can you say that, you didn't even speak to the guy," Mobius gestured to Loki's general direction outside of the storage room.

"Yeah well, I don't have to!" You snapped, and closed your mouth soon after, mumbling an apology. "I just- He's not him," you said quieter, almost as if saying it again and again would make it true.

"Maybe not yet," Mobius reasoned, pursing his lips as he mulled over unsaid words; "But he is, otherwise he wouldn't have seen his future with you. You know that."

You buried your hands in the pockets of your pants because you could feel how heavily they were shaking. You bit your lip until you tasted blood. "I can't. I'm sorry, Mobius, but I can't. You tell him I want nothing to do with him." The words rolled off your tongue quickly and strained, you didn't give Mobius time to answer you before you were shoving open the door of the storage room and rushing outside.

From the side of your eyes, as you walked, you noticed Loki leaning against one of the file shelves. He perked up when he saw you, straightening his posture and softening his gaze as he took half a step towards you.

You didn't spare him a second glance before turning your back to him and hurrying to the opposite way.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 4 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks @alexandra-001 @mary-jinx @stevenknightmarc @falconxsoldier @ladymercury8 @shirukitsune @ladymischief11 @starkzdaughter

[mrsdesade]

I can fly, you can't

Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (I used my OC name here) TW: fighting, teasing, mention of sxx abuse, Homelander being an asshole as usual playing with your fears Timeline: The Boys S1 Words count: 3,2k Note: this is the first long one-shot fic I wrote please be kind and enjoy the drama, English isn't even my native language so I'm trying my best to write correctly! Summary: Homelander following you after a meeting, after forcing you the night before to be his perfect girlfriend for the media (and in your bed), you hated all of this and you hoped to have a moment of peace for you, but after a fight he discovered what your biggest phobia is.

Leaving the meeting room feels like a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. It's like you can finally breathe again and think clearly without Homelander around. You feel like you're finally free from the burden of having to act like his girlfriend in public, at least for a little while. You exit the elevator and step outside on the rooftop of the Vought Tower, and then take a deep breath of fresh air and try to calm yourself down.

You take a few steps to the edge of the building, looking down on the city and trying to clear your mind. But your fear of vertigo kicked in and you're forced to step back immediately.

You heard the little sound of the elevator coming up, someone is coming after you. You can only guess who it is, especially considering how everyone else in the building is in that meeting. It's probably your nightmare of your days and nights, Homelander.

He steps out of the elevator and immediately notices your tense expression and the way you step back.

"What's wrong Ophera? Running away from an official meeting isn't really from you." he asks mockingly, his tone very smug and his smirk wide.

His footsteps echoing in the silence. As he got closer to you, you could feel his presence, and your heart sank with each step he took. You knew you had to stay calm, but the fear of vertigo and the presence of Homelander made that very difficult for you.

"I was bored. The topic doesn't concern me so I left with an excuse." you lied, slowly coming back to the elevator direction, standing safety far from the edge of the building. You've a secret to hide.

"Bored? It's rather unusual behaviour for you. There's something you're hiding and I want to know what it is..." he can see that you're trying to stay calm, but he can sense there's something wrong. He notices your movements towards the elevator direction and he steps closer to you, his gaze fixed on you.

"I'm perfectly fine. I assure you." you continued to maintain your fake calm behaviour, trying your best to don't look at the edges of the skyscraper.

"I'm not stupid. I can see through your deception. You think I haven't noticed your uneasiness? And I've been watching closely since this morning. You are acting strange, you're hiding something.'' he suddenly steps closer to you, his hand grabbing your chin and lifting it up towards him, his eyes locking onto yours. His gaze turns intense and calculating as he speaks to you.

You push him back with both of your hands, making him leaning back a few centimeters from you. You've to keep your secret or he may use it against you "I'm mad at you for what happened last night. Am I allowed to be angry or not?"

"Angry? Oh, so now you're angry at me for what happened last night?" He says, his voice filled with a mixture of arrogance and aggression. "Did I hurt your pretty little feelings?"

"I've no feelings for you, you hurt my body, you forced me. It was horrible." you pointed your finger at him and taking some step closer, for someone maybe you may be intimidating but for sure not for him.

Homelander's expression falters for a moment, your words seemed to have a genuine impact on him, especially when you accused him of hurting you and forcing you. "Oh, forced you? You have no idea what it means to be forced. You're still alive and healthy, aren't you? How much did it hurt anyway?" he lets out a scoff, like he's dismissing your words.

You felt for a second like your feelings and actions are nothing to him, everything you say is invaluable by his own way to see stuff. You became unable to control yourself and you can't stop from attack him out of frustration. You punched him on his pretty cheek.

Your punch didn't even make him fall back a single step, he looked at you with a fierce gaze and just laughed at you, like he found your action incredibly hilarious. "Ah, that's definitely a strong punch right there. You're gonna need more than that to hurt me girl. But I must say, I'm entertained by your attempt."

"I've just started, asshole." you answered immediately with a serious and challenging expression, starting to attack him again. In the back of your mind you know you can't really hurt him, but you need to let out all of your rage and frustration.

"For real, you're cute when you're trying to be strong. It's adorable, like a little Chihuahua attacking a Rottweiler. But I gotta give it to you for trying." He comments as you start punching and kicking at him with all your might.

You felt even more rage coming up inside your body. You move your hands in little circles movements and decide to use your powers. You can't hurt him, we'll see.

"Don't you dare calling me dog." your powers allow you to manipulate metals, so you lift two metal plates that were abandoned on the rooftop and throw them in his direction, fast, sharp and very heavy.

"Oh, so you're gonna use your powers against me now, huh?" He says with a confident tone, almost seeming like he's not taking your attempts seriously.

"That's cute." Despite his smug attitude, Homelander manages to dodge the flying metal plates with ease. He dodges them without breaking a sweat, and looks back at you with his usual smirk.

The plates fell of the skyscraper and probably are gonna hurt someone on the city, but you don't care at the moment. Your following attack was immediate, you managed to control some metal cords from the elevator and use them as sharp whip against him. You didn't notice as well that in this action, you broke the elevator, you already don't know that but you're stuck on the rooftop with him now.

He can fly, and you don't.

As you use the broken elevator cable as a whip, he manages to dodge it again. "Do you have any idea how easy it would be for me to kill you right now?"

"Attack me then, fight me Homelander!" you shouted in his direction, challenge him and then continuing using the cables, even doing a little scratch on him can make you satisfied, but seems quite impossible for now.

"You want a fight? Alright then. Let's see how long you last." He suddenly flies at you at a high speed. With a swift move, he lunges at you, he grabs your neck, his grip is tight and powerful.

You don't even have time to react, in just a single movement you appear defeated. It's hard to breath now. Your hands closed on his wrist that he's holding you so tightly "That's easy for you, but you've not...win...yet..."

That blonde monster scoffs at your comment. "Not winning? I have you in a chokehold and you're struggling to breathe. How can you say I haven't won yet?"

"Maybe I should squeeze tighter..." he adds, increasing the pressure on your neck. He smirks, looking at you with a certain degree of arrogance. You can feel his thumb pressing harder on your throat and his fingers squeezing it tighter, making it hard to breathe.

The words die in your throat, but you don't give up, you try to lift a metal pipe using your powers, you stretch out your hand in that direction and the object flies at an impressive speed towards him.

"Oh really? Trying to attack me again? Didn't we settle this already? I have you by the throat, you're literally in my hands." he says, his grip on your throat tightening even more, but he manages to catch the pipe you threw at him with one hand.

You stare at the metal tube in his hand snapping like a branch of wood, he could do the same to your neck.

"You really can't stop struggling, hmm? You're just going to exhaust yourself baby. How about you just give up already?"

''I'm not the type of woman who gives up easily...'' you feel the oxygen lacking, the pressure on your neck is increasing and you no longer breathing at all.

"I appreciate your determination... but I guess you'll just have to suffer a little more to learn the lesson." he tightened his grip on your neck even more, choking you and making it harder and harder to breathe.

you're about to respond, but you can only cough from the lack of air. When suddenly you feel Homelander lift himself off the ground without letting you go, reminding you that he can fly and you can't. As your feet no longer touch the ground, you feel the fear of heights overwhelming you and your fear of vertigo kicks in.

"How does it feel to be completely at my mercy? To be helpless and powerless, at the mercy of someone who can do whatever they want with you? It must be quite an experience, hmm?" he says with a taunting smile, watching you with a look of amusement.

As you feel yourself being lifted off the ground, your heart skips a beat and your panic sets in, now you're in mid-air, with your feet dangling.

''Put me down...! Immediately!'' as he rises you are forced by your fear to cling to his shoulders, and his grip on your neck becomes lighter, he wants to give you the impression of falling into the void.

"Excuse me, are you afraid of heights? I guess being up here is really shaking your confidence, isn't it? Trust me, I'd hate to drop you."

From your expression it's clear that you are afraid of great heights, and that the vertigo is terrifying you, your secret is now fully exposed and he knows it. He should never have found out.

Homelander notices instantly how you're responding to being high above the ground and that your secret is now out. A sense of superiority and satisfaction washes over him, he finally has a weakness of yours he can use against you. "Wow, look at your expression. You're absolutely terrified. Kinda pathetic. And all this fear because of an innocent little height? You really need to work on that."

You feel him completely release his grip on your neck and you risk falling, he's forcing you to clinging to him for safety with both hands and find yourself face to face with him.

''Please, please please please! Don't...!'' you continue to look down as he moves outside the perimeter of the skyscraper, leaving only the view of the city below you.

"Oh, now you're begging for mercy, huh? It's cute to see the mighty Ophera tremble in fear. But don't worry, I won't drop you… yet."

''Hold me up for goodness sake, or I swear to God when I get down from here I'll kill you!'' you give in to the obviousness of having to beg him for help. Your ramblings are dictated by fear and anxiety, you are facing your greatest fear in the worst way, and seeing him laugh at you only makes you more nervous.

''Look at you, begging me so desperately. It's hilarious. But I guess I have some mercy in me, so sure, why not." he says with a mocking tone, wrapping his arms tightly around you, making it seem like a tender hug but in reality he's just trapping you.

"Is that better? Don’t you feel lucky to have your hero protecting you?" he adds, continuing his taunting.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you feel his arms supporting you and some of the fear vanishes, but you still remain on alert, expecting some nasty prank from him. Then you hold on more tightly and rest your head on his shoulder, exhausted.

''I despise you Homelander...''

"Ah, you know I'm not surprised. But I have to say, you look adorable when you're frightened and clutching onto me. Maybe next time I should throw you off the roof and catch you before you hit the ground? Just to really see you panic." he teases you mockingly as he holds you close in a loving terrifying embrace.

You feel too frightened and exhausted to respond, so you just stay there, your head resting on his shoulder. But the thought of what he just told you made you shiver, because you know that if he could, he really would.

"Cat got your tongue? What's the matter, can't use that pretty little voice of yours to express your detest for me anymore?' he tauntingly whispers in your ear while one of his hands remains holding you, and the other starts brushing gently through your hair, in a seemingly affectionate gesture.

''Bring me back to the ground...'' you beg him once again, feeling miserable for the hundredth time in a few days, in every situation with him, you always come out defeated.

"Come on now, I thought you were enjoying this little flying adventure? Just look at the beautiful view, you should appreciate the scenery." still speaking mockingly as he slowly starts to descend towards the rooftop, he lands softly on the ground.

''The answer is no.'' your legs start to tremble as soon as you hit the ground, your heart is beating fast and even your hands are still shaking from the scare from just before, imagining yourself falling was terrible.

"Wow, that was quite a performance. You really made quite a show of yourself up there, clutching onto me like your lifeline. I wonder what the fans would say if they saw the mighty Ophera frightened to death by a little bit of height."

''You call that a little height? We were at least thirty meters from the ground!'' you scream at him, still exhausted and frustrated by what happened, you approach him again and point the finger at him, your tone continually oscillates between fear and stupid courage.

"Thirty meters, yeah that's no big deal."

Then he walks towards you, taking one step with each word, a mocking smile still painted on his face. "I think I really need to teach you to face your fears. Maybe I can be your flying instructor and help you conquer your precious vertigo, would you like that?"

''Shut up, you must not tell anyone about this, not to Ashley, not to the Seven, not to the media, not to anyone.'' this time your voice is firmer, almost authoritative, you know what your career depends on, and you can't risk being fired from Vought.

"Relax, your secret is safe with me." he rolls his eyes at your demand, clearly not taking it seriously. His tone is bored, feigning disinterest.

"It's not like I want to tell everyone how easy it is to make you scream, in different situation." he adds with a smirk, as if the idea of keeping this secret amuses him more than bothers him.

''We're not all perfect like you, you know?'' you are as always shocked by his audacity, and you have to take a deep breath so as not to insult him once again, it's really difficult to tolerate.

Homelander grins and rolls his eyes in response to your sarcasm. He starts walking around you, circling you like a predator observing its prey.

"True, not everyone can be like me. But don't feel bad, it's quite amusing to see how quickly you crumbles. Maybe one day you'll reach my level of perfection, but I doubt it." he responds mockingly, his tone dripping with sarcasm as well.

''I don't want to reach your level, I just want to be left with my feet firmly on the ground.'' your response is calm but attentive, you follow him with your gaze as he walks around you, the cold air at the top of the skyscraper moves your messy hair from the fear of just before. Then a question arises spontaneously from you.

''You weren't serious before when you talked about pushing me off the skyscraper, were you?''

''Didn't you hear the sarcasm in my tone? Of course I was serious, it would be hilarious to see your face when you plummets down, screaming your lungs out. I mean, imagine the thrill of feeling the wind in your hair, the adrenaline running through your body..." his words dripping with mocking sarcasm that turns into a dark smile.

''Yeah…that would be terrifying for me.'' you take a step back still eye locked on him, while insecurity makes room in you, you don't know whether to trust him or not.

"Aww, don't be scared now. I know you secretly loved being up there with me, all dizzy and clinging onto me."

''Don't talk nonsense...'' but while you try to leave that situation your eye falls on the elevator, it is broken due to your previous fight, another fear grips your insides, how will you now get down from there?

Homelander notices your gaze shift towards the broken elevator, and he laughs again, clearly enjoying the situation. "Oops, looks like the elevator's busted. Well, guess you're stuck up here with me for a while longer...unless you decide to fly with me, we would get off a lot faster than waiting for the Vought techs, it will take a few hours to fix it.''

''I'd rather die than fly with you again.''

He smiles at your defiant response, clearly enjoying the game. "Hmm, let's see. A long day with me up here, or a thrilling flight with the world's greatest hero. Your choice." says tauntingly, standing before you with his hands on his hips.

''Believe me, it would be terrifying either way.'' you sigh deeply, looking for a solution, as your phone continues to ring, Ashley wants to warn you that the repairs will take a long time. After all, they are fixing an elevator for a hundred-story building, it's not something simple.

"Ah, seems like you're running out of options, aren't you? But don't worry, I'm feeling generous today. I'll take you down.''

''Ah-ah, of course. And what do you want in return for this so kind and heartwarming favour?''

Homelander smiles mockingly at your words, but you notice a hint of genuine curiosity in his eyes. "Well, since you asked so kindly, I want a picture of the great Ophera, in my arms as I carry her back to the ground safely. The tabloids will love it, and more importantly, you need me to get down there. So how about this?''

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, expecting some other much more indecent request (but clearly you would have received those later, once the sun went down). And for once when his request was acceptable, you nodded.

''But I warn you, Homefuckinglander, try to make some jokes while we are suspended in the air and the journalists will have to talk about your murder and not one of your heroic rescues.''

He chuckles at your threat, clearly amused but also a bit turned on by your feisty attitude.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll be on my best behavior. After all, we wouldn't want the media to know about my little sadistic tendencies, now would we?" he extends his arms, inviting you to step into his embrace.

Slowly, you approach him, until you're back in his arms, held up like a ridiculous freaking princess, the media and fans will love it, but you'll hate it to the core.

"Remember, eyes on me, and don't forget to smile. This picture is going to be legendary. Ready for another ride?"

______

And we're done! It was so much fun writing this, hope you enjoyed as much I did! Kisses <3

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or anything I link. Just the concept. Also I'm not a medical professional so if what you read seems dumb, just imagine it makes sense.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforeseen consequences.

Reader Pov

As I sit here waiting for Vi and Cait to show up with whatever amount of enforcer's they plan on bringing, I polish up my old mining helmet after I already finish doing the same thing with my lucky revolver. I've been sitting here waiting on the steps of some random building that hasn't been occupied in awhile.

'I may have showed up a little too early.' It's felt like I've been here for hours, but they still haven't showed up. I also occasionally checked the tunnel for anyone going in or out, but no luck. Must be too early to catch anyone. So I took a quick peak inside just to see the tunnel lead deeper than I can see into the mines.

I suddenly hear footsteps and quickly stand up with my gun in hand. I relax once I see the familiar head of hair, pink standing out the most. I see Cait with one of her family's new rifle models and Vi with what looks like a modified pair of gauntlets.

'Still a brawler,' I thought as I smile behind my mask, before running my gaze over four other enforcers behind them. One of them having a very familiar larger stature reminding me of a friend Vi made in the Enforcers; being pretty much confirmed once I see a large shield on his back, 'Yup, definitely the same guy. Didn't get to know him that well, but he seemed like a nice guy too when he was training the volunteers. Though the team looks one person larger than normal than I remember.'

I holster my gun before putting my helmet back on and approaching the group to talk to Cait.

"Good to see you here. I started thinking you were gonna bail on me."

"We wanted to be sure we wouldn't be spotted, so we took a longer route to get here. Hope you weren't waiting long." Cait explains, having her professional tone back in action.

"Don't worry about it. So who are the other four?" I ask which makes Vi step aside and she start introductions. First gesturing to the big man himself.

'What was his name again?'

"This is Loris, he's usually in the front when clearing a room and stays close with Cait and Robyn in confrontations. He's really good with that shield of his and is good in a melee too," then the to one wearing what looks to be a vest and wielding tonfas, "this is Steb, doesn't talk much but he has good instincts, he's fast and can handle guarding our rear," next is a kinda short girl but I know they aren't that traitor bitch since their hair looks more like a caramel brown and reaches their shoulders, "next is Robyn, she's only recently joined but is a great addition to the team. She handles carrying and deploying gasses and explosives if needed and providing some fire support when she's not deploying them."

"Also isn't a turncoat." I barely manage to catch from the taller woman. She's the 2nd tallest here.

"Finally is Sevika, we usually lead the front together and clear a way for the team when in a sticky situation. Other than that we usually switch between making sure no one get's too close to Cait or overwhelms the group overall," she says before turning to the four behind her, "Guys this is Y/n, better known as Bloodhound." Vi finishes introduction, but I'm too busy staring at Sevika. No longer missing an arm.

'Sevika as an enforcer. Who would've guessed? This timeline really is better for everyone.' I thought as I see Loris step forward towards me.

"Well, I'll be honest I thought you'd be taller, but I'm not complaining. Hopefully this job goes good, huh?" he says as he raises a fist to offer a fist bump which makes me smirk before returning the gesture, "heh, I like them already." he says as he turns back to the others which makes Sevika and Steb shake their heads, but the girl looks stiff as a board for some reason. Probably nervous.

"Let's just get the job started. What do we know?" Sevika asks as the rest of the group gathers closer together.

"I haven't seen anyone going in or out while waiting. Took a quick look in the tunnel, but it goes deeper than I can see. Last time I saw people go in it took a couple hours for them to go in then come out, so the walk might be long. We're gonna need to move quick if we want to find out what's down there before people start showing up. I'd rather not have people hitting us from both sides." I explain to the group, before we start planning how we want to approach this operation.

Once we finally move into the tunnel it's Loris and I up ahead of the group, then Sevika and Vi, then Cait and Robyn, and Steb behind all of us to watch our rear just in case someone shows up.

At first our guard was mostly up, but once it was obvious that nothing would show up for awhile we treaded at a more calm pace. I also noticed a slight incline bringing us deeper underground. We stayed in silence for most of the walk before someone finally decided to break it.

"So, Bloodhound huh? Quite the title." Loris says which makes me roll my eyes.

"I didn't choose it."

"Hey, I'm not judging. Cooler than mine if you ask me. I could only come up with "The Wall" when our little task force starting making a name for itself."

"I wonder why." Vi says sarcastically behind us. I can hear the smirk on her face, which makes me lighten up a little.

"I'm being honest, I didn't choose mine. I only found out about it yesterday. Had no idea I had any sort of rep in Piltover, let alone a title." I say and hear a scoff come from behind me.

"You saying you didn't notice that pretty much everyone left you alone, including the enforcers? Are you just that clueless?" Sevika asks and I shrug my shoulders.

"I thought I was just an outcast. I don't really fit in with today's Zaun if you haven't noticed. I'm a merc remember?"

"I don't think you're that bad." I hear and turn to see the girl, Robyn. I also see shoulders tense when my eyes land on her which makes Loris chuckle.

"She's a big fan!" Loris loudly whispers which makes Robyn groan.

"Loris!"

"She said you inspired her to join the enforcers a few years ago," he says which makes me raise a brow at Robyn who now looks too embarrassed to look me in the eyes now. Only making Loris laugh even more, "Must've been one hell of an inspiration too, because she climbed fast."

"How does a merc inspire someone to be an enforcer?" I question her since the concept of it confuses me.

"W-Well, um..... you saved my family a few years ago. They got into some debt with a gang and no one could really do anything about it. They called themselves the Sewer Rats."

"Oh, right, I remember them. Mostly loan sharks. Honestly they were asking to get taken out eventually with a name like that." I recall the horrible gang emblem and the fact that they all stunk. Their gang was literally in the sewers, which was disgusting.

"Yeah. I remember blaming the world and everyone for my family being stuck in debt because no one wanted to help, even though I didn't really do anything about it either. Then one day you came around and started kicking ass left and right all by yourself. You were pretty scary, but you also brought hope to people and helped a lot; even if you didn't mean to," she says which makes me ponder for the first time on how my actions may have affected people other than my family and friends, "It made me think 'If one person could do that. Then why can't I?' so I joined the Enforcers. I didn't want to feel helpless like before. I wanted to make a difference." she finishes which makes me feel..... honestly I don't know how it makes me feel. To know that I am a inspiration to someone in some way.

"Well, I hope your family is okay now." I say since I couldn't think of anything better to say.

"They're fine now. Moved out of the deep end of the Undercity after you took out that gang. Started making an honest living...... thank you."

"Don't ment-" I immediately go silent and signal for the group to stop as I hear some distant noise up ahead. Sounds like people talking. No yelling.

We all move slowly forward as we make our way forward until we finally reach the end of the tunnel.

"It is one person! You're saying one person is causing trouble with establishing groundwork in the deep end of the Undercity!?" I hear someone yell and it strangely sounds familiar.

We move into what looks to be a large mined out area of the mines with paths along the walls leading down to a lower levels, old railroads leading up and down the path fpr minecarts and old tunnels being connected here and old mining equipment being left to rust.

We move in quietly watching out for some of the people that are hanging around the area, but slacking off from keeping watch. We stick closer together and move past more people until we reach a spot to look down to the bottom level to see more gang members spread around and working, until I finally spot a familiar face which makes me scowl.

'Chross. Even when Piltover is thriving you can't fucking have enough!?' I think before my eye catches something that makes me even more upset. Children. Working in the mines, like last time. Only a few, but still bad.

"This is fucked up." Loris says, hiding nearby behind a minecart with Robyn.

"Chross," I hear Cait seethe crouching next to Steb and Vi, "I knew he was under investigation for suspicious activity, but I didn't think he would have started a gang." I hear her say, but my eyes are still locked onto the kids.

"How the hell did they all get down here?" I ask to no one, but I get an answer anyway.

"We heard of orphans going missing, but couldn't track them down. Some assumed they left to pursue a life somewhere else; it's not uncommon for a kid to go missing then find out they're working on some trading ship or somewhere at the docks a few days later." Robyn answers and I can hear the angered undertone in her voice.

"Listen, we know that bastard is behind it now, so let's prioritize getting those kids somewhere safe. Any ideas?" Sevika asks as she turns to the group.

"Maybe we can..." whoever it was that was talking I don't remember because my eyes widen on another familiar face.

'No. Why are you here!? You aren't supposed to be here!' I thought as I see a familiar kid with a mining helmet on her head.

"Isha." I say as memories of her fly through my head. That precious little girl who became family, who loved so much, cared so much, and sacrificed herself. My eyes begin to water.

"You know one of them?" someone asks, Sevika maybe, but I ignore it when I see Isha starts coughing and looks too exhausted to keep working. One of Chross' henchmen notice.

'Don't.'

"Hey! No one said to stop working kid!" the man yells, but Isha looks to tired to pick up the mining tool. He walks over to her and shoves her to the ground causing the other kids to look at the commotion in fear. My heart starts beating rapidly and my hand clenches my gun, "What did I say!? Back to work!"

I see Isha crawl backwards away from the man as he reaches for a baton on his waist. My grip on my revolver tightens.

"Oh no."

The man takes it off his waist.

"Don't. If you do something everyone here wi-"

The man raises the baton high.

"We will get them out, but yo-"

The world slows down.

I watch him hit her.

I hear her cry.

The sound echoes in my ears.

He just hit Isha.

He goes to hit her again.

I don't let him.

"ISHAAAA!" *BANG*

I see RED.

Vi Pov

'This definitely did not go a planned!' I thought as I knock out another thug and help Steb defend our rear, as we all move to keep up with Y/n. She has completely lost it.

"AAAEEERRRGGGHHH!!!!"

"PLEASE! N- AAAAHHHH!!!!!!" another person dead. Y/n slamming the apex of her shovel into their face. They're left to bleed out as Y/n charges to the next with a gun and shovel.

"I see why they call her Bloodhound!" Loris says before bulldozing over someone and slamming two other people into a wall.

"What's happened to her!?" Cait asks as shoots some more incoming thugs and covers Y/n's back wherever she can. I help Steb deal with the last of the people behind us before turning around and see Sevika chuck someone off the edge to fall all the way to the bottom.

"The guy she shot hit a kid she knows! I tried stopping her, but she lost her mind!" Sevika explains as she takes out any leftover stragglers that Y/n is leaving behind.

"Well on the bright side! We're making good progress!" Robyn says as she stays close to Loris, but I think she's enjoying watching Y/n lead the charge a little too much...... for some reason that kinda upsets me.

"WAITWAITWAIT! I'M SO- AAAHHH! MY SPINE!!!!"

I hate to admit it, but Robyn's not wrong. Her complete rampage is causing a lot to flee and any who stay to try and fight her are met with a beast of rage shooting a gun and swinging a shovel.

"CHROSS!!!"

The man in question looks terrified before quickly yelling out orders to the last of his thugs that have stayed.

"Hurry up and deal with them you idiots!" he yells out to the rest before two men rush to get him out of there through another tunnel. Doesn't matter. We gotta get the kids out of here. Speaking of, by now most of them are huddled together. I move up to take Loris' place in the front to speed up the process; taking out one after another.

We begin to start getting close to the children, but at the corner of my eye I spot someone hiding behind crates and watch as they throw what looks like a bomb towards us.

"You idiot what are you thinking!?" one of thugs yell at the person before running for cover and I yell out to Loris.

"Loris!"

"On it!" he yells before rushing up and deflecting it away with his shield, causing to go flying towards another pile of crates off to the side, and rushes to the kids to shield them, "Get behind me!"

The rest of us take cover and I think we're fine, until I see a little girl was hiding near the crates; staring at the bomb in shock.

"N-"

"ISHA!"

Y/n yells again, but this time in desperation. Before I know it, Y/n rushes over, picks the kid up and tries to run as far away as possible before the bomb sets off.

*BOOM*

The explosion was bigger than expected, probably something in those crates. Dust and smoke now cover the area as I hear rumbling and see some of the old supports of the mine now giving in under the tension.

"Shit! This place is about to collapse, we gotta go!" Sevika yells out and I hear kids crying while Loris tries to calm them. Sevika rushes to them and picks up two of them before looking towards the kids that are older than the rest, "If you can, pick up one of the younger ones and stay close to us. We're getting out of here!"

The older kids are in shock, but quickly listen to instructions and each picking up one of the younger children. Robyn, Cait, and I do the same. Carrying two each. Loris manages to carry three.

"Where's Y/n!?" Robyn asks looking around which makes me begin to panic.

"*cough* *cough* I'm *cough* here!" I hear and I am barely able to see Y/n holding the kid close to her; her gas mask placed on the girls face.

"Are you alr-" Cait goes to ask, but is interrupted by more rumbling.

"I'm fine! Let's go!" Y/n yells and we all quickly rush back to the tunnel we came from much faster since there is no resistance from any of the gang members.

We all quickly rush down the path we came in from. I can hear the mine beginning to collapse behind us as we run for lives, and I can feel the two kids I am carrying hold onto me tighter. Soon we see the end and we all simultaneously increase our pace at the sign of escape.

We all run out and far away from the tunnel before finally stopping after the tunnel collapses.

"That was a close one." Loris says as we all catch a breather and the young children cry from that near death experience. Robyn pulls out a flare and shoots it into the sky to signal for help and I turn to one of the older kids, who is still holding onto a child.

"Was this all of them?" I ask, afraid of the answer I will get, but luckily they nod their head which makes me let out a breath of relief.

"Y/n!" Robyn yells and I look to see Y/n kneeling on the ground and only being held up by that little girl, Isha, if I remember correctly. On her back I see blood stains and the impact of fragments from the bomb embedded through her jacket and an injured leg.

i'M fInE, jUsT a ScRaTcH.

I set down the kids I am holding before rushing to her, Cait does the same. We both take a look at her injuries and by the look Cait gives me we're both thinking the same thing.

"It's bad Vi. She needs help. Now."

3rd Person

"So you boys got an idea on what you're going to present for the Innovator's Competition?" Vander asks as the young adults sit together at the bar.

"I'm still trying to figure it out." Ekko says which make Benzo, sitting off to the side with Silco, laugh.

"Hah! Got that right. You should see him at his desk; looks like his head is gonna blow up." Benzo teases, making Ekko roll his eyes.

"Me and Mylo got an idea for mutated plants. Been working on it for awhile, but it's not working right yet." Claggor says sounding a little disappointed at the progress he and Mylo are making.

"What about you Powder? You jumping in the ring?" Vander asks the blue haired girl who has her mind elsewhere, causing Ekko to slightly nudge her.

"Huh, what?"

"Vander was asking if you're gonna participate in the Innovator's Competition." Ekko explains to her.

"Oh. Um. I don't know yet. Maybe." Powder answers before staring back down at the bar counter. Vander, Silco, and Ekko catching the strange behavior. The brothers give Ekko a look, and Ekko only gives a slight shrug.

"Well. I'm sure whatever you all come up with, will be great." Silco says with a slight raise of his glass to them.

As the conversation shifts, Ekko leans towards Powder.

"Hey, you alright?" he asks with concern in his voice. Powder gives a complicated expression before sighing.

"I don't know. I-I've just had something bugging my mind recently." she says which gets a sympathetic look from Ekko. Hinting that he has been having the same problem.

"Yeah..... this might sound weird, but, does it have to do with Y/n?" he asks, the name once again feeling too familiar even when saying it out loud. Powder gives a smirk and raises a brow at Ekko.

"Oh? You thinking of other girls?"

"No! No, that's not wha-"

"I'm just kidd'in. But yeah it is. How'd you know?" Powder asks, and Ekko breathes a sigh of relief that he didn't mess up.

"It's been the same for me. Hard to think sometimes, even when I'm working with the professor . It's been bothering me. They look familiar. Sound familiar. It-It's like-"

"You should know them? Like, really, know them?"

"Yes! It's been driving me crazy."

"Me too..... maybe we just gotta get our minds off of them? Do something fun? You free today?" Powder asks looking at Ekko with hope.

"Sure. Maybe a date will get our minds off of it." Ekko says as he pockets his notebook and offers a hand to Powder, making her smile.

Powder grabs his hand and sta-

*SLAM*

The whole bar turns to the entrance at the sudden loud noise. Standing at the entrance is a clearly out of breath Caitlyn and Vi, who is holding an unconscious Y/n on her back. Vi makes eye contact with Vander.

"Dad! She needs help!"

All of the close family's eyes gravitate to the unconscious girl on Vi's back. Powder and Ekko both immediately panicking internally at the sight of her. Not because they're scared of her, but for her.

"Bring her to the back! Gert handle the bar!" Vander instructs and both Vi and Caitlyn quickly rush to the backroom. Gert starts to clear out the bar as the close family all follow behind Vi, now being able to see the injuries on Y/n's back, causing Vander to quickly clear a large table, "Set her down here. Gently."

Claggor and Mylo both quickly help Vi unload Y/n from her back and set her down gently. Now all of her wounds clear to see for everyone in the room. Powder squeezes Ekko's hand as she scans over all the wounds and blood. That familiar voice once again going through their head; the same goes for the others in the room.

"Nothin' about that looks good" Benzo says as he looks a the girl in sympathy.

"What happened?" Silco asks as he get's closer to examine the wounds.

"Some guy threw a bomb. Loris hit it away, but it ended up landing near a little girl she knew. She rushed to pick her up and took most of the blow. It-It looked really bad and I didn't know any other doctor nearby to help her so I ran here," Vi explains while it being very clear that she is out of breath, "Can you help her?"

Silco looks at Y/n's unconscious face and that same feeling he has for the rest of the children raised in this bar rises. He doesn't ponder on it before nodding his head and looking to Powder.

"Powder, I need you to head over to my lab. You remember what I taught you about medicine?" he asks and gets a nod, "Then you already know what I will need. Go," He says and Powder nods again before giving one last long look at Y/n's form before rushing off, "Claggor and Mylo go see if you can find the professor around the area and send him here if you do," they nod before rushing off, "Ms. Kiramman go across the bridge and see if you can find Viktor and send him here as fast as possible," Cait quickly rushes off as well, "I'm going to need to cut her clothes off to get a better look at her injuries. Unless you think you can help with her wounds, step out of the room." he says as he pulls out a knife from his coat.

Both Vi and Benzo go to step out, Benzo doing his best to comfort her from her state of stress. Now leaving Vander, Ekko and Silco left.

"Alright. I don't know if I will be able to help, but we just need to make sure she's stable until more help arrives. Understood?" Silco asks both Vander and Ekko and get's nods from both.

"Will....Will she really be alright?" Ekko asks as he moves closer to get a better look at the injuries.

"The longer we talk the worse she gets." Silco says as he begins cutting Y/n's clothes.

"Right. She'll be fine." Ekko says before walking up to help Silco and Vander.

"She'll be fine."

Hope you enjoyed.

[namism]

alternate universe | portgas d. ace

➳ categories: marine ace au, gender neutral reader

➳ word count: 1.4k

➳ notes: if this fic does numbers, i might consider writing a full-length story ❤️ title came from this underrated banger -> even in an alternate universe by ysanygo

➳ cross-posted on ao3

In another universe, Ace is a member of the Marines and you are his colleague from the same division.

In this universe, specifically, Portgas D. Ace, the son of the wanted Gol D. Roger in another timeline, is an exceptional Marine with a driving passion for his work and a renowned hatred for the pirates that conquer the seas. In this universe, you are Portgas D. Ace's secondhand, who later become a Commander under Captain Ace's leadership.

The admirable grit of your duo is one thing that the Marine upholds. Ordinary soldiers look up to you, while Admirals respect the dedication that you two put in maintaining the Marine code of conduct. There is no one else like your pair.

Lately, however, a few oddities have caught your attention.

"Hey. Take this to Garp's quarters."

You spin on your heel as you feel a leather bag poke your ribcage. Standing beside you is your black-haired freckled partner, whose Marine uniform is yet again unruly and not a bit presentable for the title he holds and the respect he receives. Grabbing the bag from his hold, you point at a mysterious stain on his uniform.

"What's that?" you question.

Ace follows the direction of your eyes, landing on the collar of his inner dress shirt. "Uh, this? Dunno. Got it somewhere from a battle, I guess."

You roll your eyes.

"Sure. Just another one of the dark stains that you get from a battle without the sight of blood," you deadpan. Ace's lips morph into a sheepish smile. "I know what that is, idiot."

"He-he, just checking. I thought you wouldn't notice," comes his excuse.

"Everyone notices the scent of grilled meat on you, Ace. A food stain is no different." You shake your head. "Anyway, I'll catch you later. Garp's office, you say?"

"Yeah. He should be there."

After saluting to your Captain, you march to Vice Admiral Garp's office that is located in the far west wing of the base. On your way to his office, you encounter an unpleasant sight between a horde of your men and the Vice Admiral himself.

In the far end of the hallway come the marching crowd toward the where you just came from. The Vice Admiral, with his giant and brawny build, pokes out from the crowd as he walks side-by-side of what seems to be a lanky man in his 40s, his hands restrained by a pair of handcuffs made of Seastone.

As they approach, you ask one of your men in the frontlines.

"What's the meaning of this?"

The man salutes.

"Commander. We are taking the possessor of the Memo Memo no Mi to Impel Down. We must sail this evening under Admiral Fujitora's orders."

You look past the soldier to inspect the man in question. Vice Admiral Garp washes him out by a ton with their height difference, as well as the muscular composition of their bodies. His hair is matted and unkempt, and his clothes are ragged and baggy. He has his head down as he saunters with the group, like he's afraid of being seen in this feeble state.

As he comes close, however, he raises his head, then looks at you.

"You have an interesting life," he says. Vice Admiral Garp and the Marines who hear this look at him, surprised that he has spoken since his arrival this morning.

"Me?" you ask in disbelief.

The man grins odiously.

"You're the great first mate of the Spade Pirates." Stopping in his tracks, he chuckles. The Marine behind him barks an order to continue walking. Your vision darkens. "You're— you were a great pirate."

Your men look at you, some in horror and some in anticipation of your response to the strange statements. You grit your teeth.

"What the hell are you talking about?" you growl. "I was never a pirate."

He laughs.

"Of course not, but in your first life, you were."

Your look hardens into a glare. Garp yawns, and with a forceful push of the man's shoulder, he orders him back to walking forward.

"Stop yapping, get moving! I'm going to miss my nap time," he yells. The Marines follow suit. He then notices the bag in your hand. "Good timing, Commander (Y/N). Just in time for my departure. I'll see you in a few days."

The Vice Admiral claims his luggage.

"You're going, too, Vice Admiral?"

"The jerks up there said I must," he says.

You nod. "I see."

You go back to your post as you part ways with the pack. They transport the handcuffed man to the coastal area of the base, where a heavily guarded Marine ship is docked and a Seastone cell awaits the Devil Fruit user in its lower deck.

On their way to the coast, Ace runs into Garp, his grandfather, and decides to tag along to oversee the progress of the mission. Before the shaggy man is taken away into the ship, he speaks to Ace in a wary tone.

"Be careful with the power you hold, Fire Fist," he tells the Captain, leaving the young man disturbed as the ship prepares to sail away.

Deep in the night a couple of hours later, you reunite with Ace in the mess hall for dinner. As usual, he comes back to your table with three plates loaded with different dishes, not accounting for the seconds that he will be taking later.

With some of your men gone for the recent mission, you and Ace sit alone together at a table.

"Did you know that they were on that mission?" you ask him.

Ace chomps on a rack of ribs, the barbecue sauce staining the corners of his mouth. "What mission?"

"The one with the weird guy," you say. "Uh, I'm assuming you saw him. Old guy, messy hair, looks like he hasn't taken a bath in a month?"

"Oh." He swallows. "I saw him. He was weird. I'm glad I didn't have to deal with that."

"Weird, huh? Did you talk to him?"

"He told me something about fire and a fist." The Captain laughs. "It sounds ridiculous. No wonder why he's going to Impel Down. Something must be wrong in here."

He taps the side of his head with a finger. You snort.

"He spoke to me as well," you admit. Ace looks at you through his peripheral vision as he picks up a bowl of mashed potatoes. It's heated and well-cooked, just the way he loves them. "He told me I was a pirate in my first life. Can you believe that?"

"I do," your partner chirps.

You glare at him.

"Not the time for jokes, Ace. He said that I was the first mate of the Spade Pirates, or whatever that crew is." You look down at your food, feeling the heat waves hit your face. "Is there even such a thing as the Spade Pirates?"

"We can figure that out now that Garp is gone," suggests Ace. You look unamused. "Just kidding, he-he."

After dinner, you retreat to the barracks. You change into a set of pajamas and slip under the covers of your bed. As soon as your eyelids close, you drift off to a deep sleep.

"Come with me," he tells you, flashing a smile that you have never seen before: lips tight, eyes soft. Strands of his wavy black hair blow on his face as the sea breeze comes and goes, covering his freckles and his smile of sincerity.

"I can't leave Dadan alone." You tell him. He frowns. "I'm sorry."

"She'll be safe with Luffy. Now, come on!"

He tugs your arm toward the shore, where a small boat floats on the water with a thin sail and a couple bags of food that pool around the mast. He hops in the boat. He wears his trademark hat on his head, an orange cowboy hat with a rim of red beads and two smileys in front.

"There's room for one more person and some luggage!"

"I'd rather not, Ace," you say firmly.

Ace purses his lips together. "Are you scared?"

"Uh, no? I told you, I just can't leave this place."

He rests one foot on the edge of the boat. Leaning toward you, he says, "Come with me, please. We'll travel the Grand Line together, and in a few years, maybe we can recruit Luffy into our—"

"Your pirate crew," you finish. "I-I get it, but I can't. I'm not fit for that kind of life."

"You'll be my first mate."

You sigh.

"And what will your pirate crew be named as, Captain Ace?"

He laughs heartily, his bright white teeth showing as his eyes form into crescents.

"The Spade Pirates."