#he didn't know he had a fascination with them

[mrpenguinpants]

Sakura, did they...set off your romance sensor?

—  "Oh, listen, this boy here…whenever he senses anything romantic…he goes beet red in the face!!" - Tasuku Tsubakino (Ch.66)

— Hayato Suo, Hajime Umemiya, Jo Togame

[Masterlist]

Wow, my windbreaker brain rot has shot me into a whole new timeline where I can sit down and write. Not gonna lie, not my favorite but it is what it is. I've beat my first fic for a fandom nerves.

Hajime Umemiya

When Umemiya had called a rooftop meeting, Sakura had been through them enough to know what to expect. Umemiya would either show up late or be completely off-topic until someone, mostly Hiragi, stepped in to direct the meeting to its actual purpose. Most of the time, the distractions would be on his plants or his giddy plans of having another barbeque with everyone. It used to be annoying, Sakura once believed the reason why Umemiya was so unserious was because he didn't care. But he knows better now than to take that carefree smile on the surface level. Deep down, Umemiya is a great leader who knows when it's time to get serious.

But this...

Sakura's cheeks are already turning pink.

This is a bit too much for him. He hasn't leveled up enough for this.

"The Three Sisters is a method of gardening that involves planting corn, beans, and squash together. The corn provides support for the beans and squash, the beans add nitrogen to the soil, and the squash's sprawling vines create shade and discourage pests too. It's really quite fascinating, don't you think so Ume?" you ask, lightly petting the leaves of his most recent tomato plant sprout. Your eyes downcasted as you thumb away bits of dirt that happened to be blown by the wind onto the greenery. Perhaps it's because you're one of the few people who entertain Umemiya's rapid obsession with his garden, even going out of your way to tell him facts to better his plot and compliment him on his efforts. Heck, Sakura has seen Umemiya crying because Nirei has told him that his saplings look bigger each time. While Sakura does not doubt that those feelings and expressions were genuine, the look Umemiya is giving you, a look you're not even seeing, feels different. Umemiya himself is different.

"Yeah..." Umemiya responds in a soft tone, his voice almost a whisper. Their usually talkative leader who won't shut up for half a second, who talks over people, is currently so distracted that it's kind of embarrassing watching him. He's been staring at you, eyes zeroing in on your fingers as they brush against the leaves, almost entranced by the sight. Sakura would give anything to leave right now, this second-hand embarrassment is too much. Luckily, Umemiya finally seems to register that you and he aren't alone despite the fact he was the one who called the meeting in the first place. His head perks up confused, hands on top of his knees, as he's greeted with varying expressions from his grade captains. Hiragi in particular looks like he's having both a stomach ache and the urge to slap the back of Umemiya's head. The urge is only partially restrained when you also look up, sending them all a little wave. Hiragi isn't going to slug Umemiya if you're there to see it, it's the pride of a man to not get beaten up in front of his crush.

"Oh shoot, you're all here already? Why didn't you say anything?" Umemiya whines, standing up while dusting his pants free of any lingering dirt. He extends a hand to you, not before rubbing his palm furiously on the back of his shirt, to help you up, "I'll see you later?"

"Mm, sure. Good luck with your new sprouts. Remember to remove the bottom leaves once the plants are over 3 feet tall. I'll be upset if they develop fungus issues," you pat Umemiya's cheek gently, ignoring the way that Umemiya completely melts openly at the gesture. You turn to nod at the rest of them, offering another wave goodbye, as you pass them to exit the rooftop. The resounding sound of the door closing finally sets them back on track.

"We did," Hiragi speaks up as soon the vibrations in the air fizzle out with an exasperated expression, referring back to Umemiya's first question, "You were too busy staring. We've been here for almost ten minutes, you idiot."

"Sorry, sorry, my bad," Umemiya laughs easily, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Although he's been clearly called out, Umemiya doesn't seem the slightest bit ruffled. Sure, he looks a little bashful but Sakura doubts that he'll tone it back much to the embarrassment of any onlooker. Maybe one day, he'll be able to look that happy with his own feelings on display.

A sudden clap has Sakura jolting back to reality, Umemiya's loud voice returning back to something familiar, "Now then, come sit! I prepared some snacks for us all to share."

Everyone else seems used to Umemiya's behavior and they easily follow him, completely disregarding your and Umemiya's interactions as if they never happened. Sakura doesn't really get it but if everyone else is unbothered, it'd be seriously uncool if he said anything. He lets out a sigh, whatever. It's none of his business anyway.

"Sakura, why are you blushing?" Nirei, the bastard, pipes up behind him. Suo, the even worst bastard, laughs behind his hand like he's some rich Victorian lady.

"Huh, no I- I'm not." Sakura's cheeks went from pink to red, now that he's been caught. He looks away, avoiding eye contact, "S-Shut the hell up!"

Hayato Suo

"Mr. Customer, if you're dissatisfied with our menu, you're more than welcome to leave."

Sakura blinks, head jerking up as he crosses the threshold of Café Pothos. Initially, he assumed those words were directed at him even though it wouldn't make sense. He quite likes the menu despite only ordering the same thing each time. But no, when Sakura looks up it's to a rather unexpected sight. Suo sits at the bar counter, back ram-rod straight and his hands folded in his lap, with that ever-pleasant smile on his lips. Across from him stands a worker Sakura has never seen before. He always assumed that Kotoha was the only employee, but today seems to be full of surprises. A green apron with white ties, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and hands fisted against the hips.

"The bakery across the street would love to hear your complaints, Mr. Customer."

---

There is something about the new worker and Suo that keeps Sakura glancing back at them after he's sat himself in a secluded corner. Perhaps it's because it's a new face he has yet to meet at a place he frequents so often. It's normal to be curious right? Or maybe it's Suo being here alone. He's never seen the man "out in the wild" before. They aren't even looking at him, Suo hadn't even looked up when he first opened the door although Sakura is sure that Suo is aware of him. He's creepy like that. The new worker, however, whips an annoyed glance at Suo before letting out an irritated huff, arms crossing over the green apron, and glaring down at Suo’s smiling face. A face that would remain ever-pleasant in any given situation.

Regardless...

"Is this your version of service? It must be hard on the customer," Suo chuckles, a slight tilt of his head that bounces his tassel earring. Suo's laugh, however, causes Sakura to feel a hint of surprise. It's not a laugh he expects the man to give, yet at the same time, it suits him.

"That's because you're a terrible customer and a pain in the ass." The worker sneers, leaning in so the two of them are face to face.

Suo seems to be difficult for anyone to handle.

"It's busy today," Kotoha says, appearing out of thin air and scaring Sakura half to death. A plate of steaming omurice slides in front of him because he really does only order one thing here. It's not a great conversation starter, but it's nice of her to break the odd tension that has settled over the cafe. Kotoha is also looking to the side, watching the scene of her co-worker and Suo bickering and arguing. Passive aggressive comments are being flown out, scathing remarks padded with polite voices, so much so that the two of you don't seem to register anyone else around. Completely wrapped up in your world of irritation versus amusement.

"What…are they even arguing about?" Sakura chances to ask, his eyes still glued to the curve of Suo's smile, red eye focused solely on you. His hand idly reaches for his spoon, scooping up a bit of rice and egg, yet it hovers in the air ideally. Suo has his head tilted and is leaning somewhat in the worker's space. His eyes don't stray, watching each shift in facial expression carefully to gauge whether his words are having their intended effect. He looks like he's having way too much fun.

"Oh, that." Kotoha giggles, placing her palm on the table. She too looks like she's having way too much fun, "They always go back and forth like that. It's like a game of cat and mouse with those two. They're both stubborn as hell so it's a constant power struggle between them. Although, I wonder what they're arguing about this time. They always bicker at each other when we change shifts."

Kotoha shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. She glances briefly at Sakura before her eyes drift back to the other two. She raises her hand, finally cutting the bubble between you and Suo.

"Hey, I'm back from break. Thanks for covering for me," she calls, waving her hand in the air. The frown that was permanently on your face melts away when you break eye contact with Suo, returning to a more neutral blank look. You only nod to Kotoha, flashing up a thumbs-up, and you move to head back to the kitchen. But not before sticking your tongue out at Suo over your shoulder as you disappear through the doorway. Sakura blinked surprised, he had somewhat expected a different reaction than something so...tame. His eyes drift to Suo and he can feel his cheeks heat up.

He doesn't think he's seen Suo look happier.

Jo Togame

"See, you peel off the seal on the cap. Remove the ring from the little plastic piece you use to push the marble. Then, with your thumb, press down, and poof, the marble drops and you can enjoy!" you grin as you move slowly for Sakura to see your hands with each instruction. The fizz of carbonation and the clink of the marble hitting the glass amplified louder in the abandoned auditorium. A few other shishitoren members are loitering, but only you and Sakura are sitting up on the edge of the stage. After the embarrassment of not knowing how to open the ramune Togame had given him, he sought you out to explain it to him. Sakura didn't think he could stomach it if he went back to Togame again for help. He follows your movement, his fingers removing the thin seal. Popping the ring off the marble pusher, and with his thumb, pushes on the marble. His thumb slips a few times, but you're patient as you coax him to try again. With his third attempt, he feels the marble give, the rewarding sound of bubbles popping.

"Thanks..." Sakura mumbles, a faint blush on his cheeks as you cheer your ramune's together as you take a swig.

"No problem," you say nonchalantly, leaning your weight back on your arms. With the bottle held in your hand, you watch Sakura, who is intently staring at the drink on his own. The silence between you isn't exactly uncomfortable, but you can sense the slight embarrassment oozing off him. "Soooo... how's it taste?"

He gives a soft hum before taking a small sip, the fizzy liquid leaving a tingling sensation on his tongue. It's not as sweet as he thought it’d be. It's rather subtle for a soda. He takes a longer sip this time, the fizz tickling his nose and bubbles popping against his lip. Looking at you sidelong, he can see you already staring at him excitedly. You weren't kidding when you said you were a big fan of this.

"It's sweet, I guess," his voice soft as he shrugs. A few strands of his white hair fell in front of his face. His eyes glance up at you as you stare at him intently, waiting for him to continue. He awkwardly bites the inside of his cheek. It still feels weird having people who actually want to hear his opinion, even if it's as small as a drink. "A bit strange… The flavor is nice, but the fizz is new."

He takes another sip, careful with the angle he tilts the bottle lest the marble block the opening. He doesn't really understand the appeal of the marble. It's a nuisance. The fizz was the best part of the soda, but the clinking made it impossible to drink it quietly. Besides, he holds the ramune bottle out, how the hell do you even get it out? Does he need to throw it against a wall to break the bottle? He doesn't want to get broken glass everywhere since someone could accidentally step on it.

"Is the marble irritating you?" you ask, laughing quietly under your breath to not set Sakura off into another tomato-faced explosion.

"No!" he answers with a quick hiss, cheeks flushing. He can feel you stare at him as a smirk dances across your lips. He can already envision the teasing you’re concocting to make him react. He gives another soft huff, refusing to look at you, as he fidgets with the bottle. He doesn't want to ask you to help again. He already feels like a helpless idiot. Instead of commenting, you swing yourself upwards, planting your hand on your knee. The other hand, wrapped around the bottle, moves to your lips as you down the rest of your drink. The fizz of bubbles pops in the air while Sakura looks at you bewildered. Weren't you supposed to drink carbonated drinks slowly or you'll stomach hurt? Did you become immune or something from drinking so many?

"Come on, let's go. I still haven't finished my ramune 101 class," you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, winking over your shoulder which sends Sakura into another pink mess, as you slide off the stage.

"W- What do you mean we’re not done?" he stammers quickly, flustered as he scrambles up to follow you. He feels a bit dizzy from going from a sitting position to standing too quickly. He grips the bottle in his hand and takes a few quick steps to catch up to you as you stride to the doors leading outside the auditorium. You laugh again when he rushes to catch up. His quick reaction time betrays his small stature. It's kinda cute.

"It means I'm gonna teach you how to get the damn marble out, genius" you tease, shoving his shoulder as you reach the doors. Opening them, the two of you were met with the cool outside air. It's refreshing after being indoors for so long and the auditorium has gotten you both hot and stuffy. Hence the initial ramune drinks. You quickly take his hand, ignoring the screams, as you drag Sakura to the side of the building. "Togame! Are you sleeping still?"

"Huh?" a tired voice answers groggily from the other side of the wall. Togame is sitting on the ground next to the wall with his back against the auditorium. He has his legs stretched out, his head leaning back on the wall, rubbing his eyes to clear the ever-constant droop in his eyes. He looks as if he is napping before being rudely interrupted, "I was..."

"Oops. Hehe, sorry," you chuckle, hands raised up in a mock surrender although you don't particularly look apologetic. To be fair, Togame doesn't look upset either. Only gives you and Sakura a sleepy smile and nods as he raises his arm high to stretch. His green eyes drifted to the bottles of ramune in your hands with a curious tilt of the chin. In response, you beam at him, rattling the marble inside the glass bottle before handing it to him. "Please, if you could."

Togame snorts as he takes the bottle. There's a hint of playfulness in his tired eyes as he shakes the bottle a few times, letting the marble inside thump against the glass. It's funny watching the marble rattle around. It reminds him of a little toy marble maze he had as a child. He flicks his gaze to look at Sakura, who stands off to the side stiffly. The poor kid looks ready to bolt at any second when given an opening. His own half-finished bottle lays limply in his hand, the marble reflecting off the sun's light.

"You know you just have to twist the cap in the opposite direction right?" he says, wrapping his fingers around the blue lid and twisting the cap off. Turning the bottle over, he catches the marble from the opening into the palm of his hand. He extends his hand, sliding the marble into your waiting ones. "I know you're strong enough to do that."

"Yeah, but my hands get cramps and it's impossible to move it!"

"I don't think that's how that works...But if it really is too hard, you can keep coming to me."

Sakura stands by, feeling out of place as you go back and forth with Togame. Yet, he doesn't feel like an intruder this time, merely an observer. He looks down at his own bottle, hands moving to twist the cap off while making sure he doesn't spill the drink.

It's easy. It pops right off with barely any effort. Sakura has quite literally seen you throw a man double your size over your shoulder.

The marble reflects his face messily, but there's a shine of red glinting off the surface.

[eu-nicola]

the finish line

sinopsis: you are the girlfriend of Lando Norris, Max Verstappen's rival with whom the tension between the two is undeniable.

warnings: love triangle, forbidden relationship, tension, infidelity

word counter: 5687

author's note: english is not my first language

The roar of the engines filled the air with an electric energy. The sky above the circuit was clear, cloudless, as if nature itself had decided that the competition would be without interference. The stands were shaking with excitement, and you were there, in the VIP area, your heart beating faster than usual. You saw Lando’s car on the starting grid, and despite having seen him compete so many times, each race gave you the same adrenaline. You loved Lando and supported his career without reservation, feeling a sincere pride every time he put on his helmet and immersed himself in his element, as if his whole life was leading up to that moment.

However, as you watched the drivers take their positions, your eyes were not fixed only on Lando’s car. Among the rows of single-seaters, one stood out in a way that made your heart waver, even though you did not want to admit it. Max Verstappen’s car. There was something about his presence that was imposing. Max moved with the confidence and precision of someone who had been born for this place, as if the asphalt was his home and the engines were his heartbeat.

Max and Lando were rivals. Their competition went far beyond the track, it was a battle of talents and personalities that pushed them to their limits. But, secretly, you had always felt a fascination towards Max that was difficult to ignore. Before meeting Lando, before feeling his hand take yours in those early days full of laughter and adventure, you had followed Max as a silent admirer, watching his rise in Formula 1 from a distance, mesmerized by his almost supernatural skill behind the wheel.

Your admiration had begun years ago, when you were still an anonymous spectator and Formula 1 was just a hobby. There was something special about the way Max approached races, a kind of intensity that separated him from the others. You remembered perfectly the first time you saw him win: that mix of strength and precision, an almost brutal will that made him get what he wanted. He was a predator on the track, and you, without being able to explain it to yourself, had become trapped in his world.

Since then, you had grown accustomed to watching him race, to secretly getting excited every time he crossed the finish line in first place. You had never told anyone about that part of you, least of all Lando. You loved your boyfriend and you loved watching him win, watching yourself celebrating beside him. However, you couldn't help a spark of excitement every time Max put his hands on the wheel and prepared for a race.

Today was one of those days when the two of you would face each other again, and the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. In the distance, you caught a glimpse of Max, preparing himself alongside his team. You forced yourself to look away, turning your attention back to Lando. You didn't want that secret admiration to show in your eyes. You knew Lando was aware of the competition with Max, and he probably wouldn't like to know that his girlfriend had an almost devout respect for his biggest rival.

The race began, and you held your breath. Every lap was a rollercoaster of emotions. Lando was going well, fighting to maintain his position while Max pushed for the lead. It was an impressive battle, a dangerous dance between two drivers who knew that any mistake could cost them dearly. Lando had the advantage, but Max was getting closer, closing the gap at every turn, as if he could read his rival's mind and anticipate his moves.

On the last lap, you almost stopped breathing. The two were neck and neck, and for a moment you found yourself wishing that Max could catch up, that he could prove once again why he was considered one of the best. Excitement washed over you, and at the same time, you felt a pang of guilt. You wanted Lando to win, of course, but there was something about the fight, about the possibility that Max could snatch the top spot from him, that made you hold your breath.

The deafening roar of the engines enveloped you as they crossed the finish line. Max had won. You stayed silent, knowing Lando wouldn't be happy with the outcome, but deep inside you, a part of you felt inexplicably satisfied.

The victory celebration filled the air, but in Lando's box, the atmosphere was completely different. Frustration was palpable in each of his movements, and you watched him from a corner, trying to gauge whether your support would be well received at that moment.

"It was crazy, wasn't it?" you commented with a smile, trying to ease the tension when he approached.

Lando barely responded, pressing his lips together and muttering something you couldn't understand. He used to be competitive, but at times like this, when the defeat came from Max, the comments that came out of his mouth surprised you a little.

"That guy..." he began to say, and you could hear the resentment in his voice. "He always plays on the edge, as if no one else mattered on the track. It's like he's racing alone, and the rest of us are just there for show."

You tried to smile to lighten the mood, but deep down it hurt you a little to hear him talk like that. You wanted to be Lando’s unconditional support, but deep down you couldn’t help but feel that there was something admirable about Max’s confidence and boldness that so exasperated his boyfriend.

“It’s true that it’s risky,” you conceded softly, without trying to justify anything. “But maybe that’s one of the reasons why he’s so fast.”

Lando looked at you, surprised, although clearly annoyed, and you couldn’t help but feel that he had picked up on something in your tone. You looked away before he could read too much into your expression.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be out there, competing at that level, risking your life at every turn,” he said in a harsher tone than usual. Lando rarely acted like that with you, and you knew it was frustration speaking.

You decided it was best to give him a moment’s space. You approached the edge of the track area, watching the celebrations from a distance, trying not to let Lando’s comments affect your own perspective. You knew he was angry and that his words were born from the helplessness of the moment.

Max had had an impeccable race, he had taken risks at every turn and had shown, once again, why he was the best on the track. The competitive fire that sometimes made him impulsive was also what made his talent shine the way it did.

Suddenly, you noticed that Lando had approached, still frowning, but his eyes showed a silent apology. He was aware of what you felt and, although he hadn't said anything to you, you knew that he had understood that Max, on some level, was also someone you admired.

"I'm sorry about what I said before," he finally said, with a sigh. "It's just that it's hard for me. It's not his talent, it's..." Lando paused, and looked at the track with a mixture of resentment and resignation. "It's just luck."

You looked at him with a slight smile and took his hand, trying to offer him the security he needed at that moment. Lando needed someone to support him, and you were there for that.

“It’s just one more race,” you said, squeezing his hand. “And there will be many more where you’ll be the one celebrating.”

Lando smiled back at you, albeit with a hint of sadness, and you noticed that, at least for now, he was willing to put the tensions aside.

That same night, the atmosphere at the hotel where the drivers and their teams were staying was a mix of celebration and relaxation after the stress of the race. The after-party was a tradition in Las Vegas. You knew Lando wasn’t completely thrilled with the idea, considering how the race had ended.

The two of you returned to the hotel after the awards ceremony, and went up to your room in silence. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before entering the bathroom, and you took the opportunity to start getting ready.

Opening your suitcase, you looked for the dress you had chosen for the night: an elegant design, in a deep red tone. You put it on carefully, letting the soft material slide over your body. In front of the mirror, you began fixing your hair, opting for a loose yet sophisticated style, striking enough for the occasion without being over the top.

From across the room, you heard Lando exit the bathroom. You turned to look at him, finding him dressed in a dark blue shirt that brought out the color of his eyes, with the sleeves slightly rolled up, and dark pants. It was the kind of style he liked, relaxed but carefully put together, with a touch that kept his air youthful. He looked good, as always, but this time there was something about his posture, a tension that hadn’t quite faded yet.

“Ready?” he asked, smiling slightly as he watched you.

“Almost,” you said, putting the finishing touches on your makeup and adding long earrings that hung elegantly from your ears. “You’re ready too, right?”

He nodded, approaching you with a leisurely pace and standing behind you in front of the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist. You could see his eyes in the reflection, watching you, and for a moment at least, he seemed to relax.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. Even though the tension from the race was still there, his words managed to bring a smile to your face.

“Thank you, love. And you look… like always,” he replied, joking softly, and you both laughed.

The walk to the party was quiet, and as they arrived, music began to play from the hotel lobby. The party was in full swing, and as soon as they entered, the festive atmosphere enveloped them: colorful lights, the pulsating music, and the murmur of voices from the drivers, mechanics, and other guests filled the place. Champagne glasses were circulating around the room, and some of the drivers were already in the center, laughing and joking as they exchanged anecdotes from the race.

Lando took you by the hand as they walked together toward the group of his friends and teammates, who greeted them with a cheer and friendly banter. He laughed and let himself go, and although it was still clear that the day had been a difficult one for him, it seemed like the company helped him relax.

But then, unintentionally, your eyes drifted to a corner of the room, where Max was talking to some of his team members, a drink in his hand and a relaxed smile on his face. He was wearing a simple but well-fitting black shirt, his hair disheveled after an action-packed day. Watching him laugh, you noticed something you had rarely seen: an almost carefree warmth, a version of him that only emerged when he was away from the pressure of the race.

You tried to look away, but your curiosity was stronger, and your eyes found him again from time to time, as if a part of you couldn't help it. Every so often, he seemed to catch your gaze, giving you a slight smile before returning to his conversation.

Lando, oblivious to the tension, continued chatting with his companions, and you tried to focus on the moment, ignoring the persistent feeling that someone else was watching you from the other side of the room. The music and laughter continued, the noise creating a kind of bubble in which you could hide, but even so, you felt trapped in that mix of emotions.

Suddenly, Max said goodbye to those around him and began to walk towards the center of the room, passing close to you. His gaze passed over the group and stopped on you. It was a fleeting moment, but enough for the heat to rise to your cheeks.

You tried to hide it, focusing on the conversation Lando was having, although your mind wandered between the pride of being by his side and the unexpected fascination that Max managed to awaken in you every time you saw him.

The night progressed, and little by little, both you and Lando were integrated into the party separately. He joined his friends, and soon you found yourself sharing laughs with some of your friends. You sipped from your glass, letting yourself be carried away by the warmth of the alcohol, which was starting to make the music louder, the lights brighter, and the atmosphere more welcoming.

Yet, throughout the night, you couldn't help it: every now and then your eyes would wander away, searching for that familiar, dangerous look you'd caught earlier. Max wasn't that far away, and on several occasions his blue eyes met yours, each exchange of glances a little longer than the last.

He did nothing but look at you, but every time he did, a smile would appear on his lips. It was an almost mocking gesture, as if he was aware of the tension he was creating and was having fun with it. The intensity of his gaze seemed to go beyond simple curiosity, and you felt your cheeks heat up with each fleeting encounter. However, you tried to hide it, devoting yourself to your friends, to the laughter and the anecdotes of the night.

Until, at some point, you realized that Max was no longer in the room. You looked around, wanting to find out if he had wandered off or was simply in another conversation, but his figure was nowhere to be seen among the lights or the laughter of the scattered groups. You felt a slight pang of disappointment, though you didn't want to give it too much importance. Plus, you had Lando at this very party; the only one you should really care about was here, having fun with his friends.

So, determined to ignore the slight discouragement, you had another drink, joining in the vibrant energy of the party, allowing yourself to release the pent-up emotions of the week. But the alcohol was taking its toll, and after a while, you felt the need to freshen up and, above all, find the bathroom. You said goodbye to your friends momentarily and began walking towards the hallway that led to the bathrooms, moving away from the music and the bustle.

The hallway was dimly lit, with an air of calm that contrasted with the festive chaos of the main room. As you moved forward, you felt the atmosphere grow quieter, the echoes of the music just a distant murmur. You turned the corner towards the bathroom, only to stop dead when you suddenly saw him.

Max was there, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on you. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, that he was simply waiting for someone or taking a breather. But when his lips curved into a slow, almost mischievous smile, you knew he was there for you.

“Lost?” he asked, his voice deep and heavy with irony, but also with something else, something that made your chest turn.

“No… I was just looking for the bathroom,” you answered, trying to keep your composure, although you felt the air had become a little thicker, more charged between the two of you.

He nodded, that relaxed, confident expression that never seemed to leave him, and took a step towards you, closing the distance in a way that made you feel a rush of nerves and excitement.

“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked softly, not taking his gaze away from yours. His tone was casual, but there was something in his eyes that made you feel like there was a deeper intention behind each word.

“Yeah…” you replied, swallowing hard, as you realized you were staring at his lips. You looked away quickly, trying to regain control of the situation. “It’s… fun.”

Max laughed, a low, warm sound that echoed through the hallway. He noticed your gaze as well, and instead of making any comment, he simply moved a little closer. You could feel the warmth of his presence, and the faint scent of his lotion mixed with the soft touch of alcohol that enveloped him. His closeness was intoxicating.

“You know?” “I’ve been watching you all night,” he said, with a frankness that took you by surprise. He didn’t bother to disguise the truth, and the impact of his words made your neck tingle. “I think you’ve been looking for me too.”

You tried to answer, but the words caught in your throat. Max was so close that you could notice every detail of his face, the tones in his eyes and the slight smile that lingered on his lips. You knew you should back off, that the situation was going too far, but there was something about him that drew you in, like a magnetic force impossible to ignore.

“Max…” you whispered, not sure what else to say. It was all a jumble of emotions: the confusion, the attraction, the guilt you felt in some corner of your mind for being here, in this moment with him.

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want,” he said softly, but his tone was serious, beyond the amusement he had shown before. His gaze was intense, sincere, and you felt the world stop at that moment. It was as if he were giving you a choice, an open door to decide.

The silence between you was thick and heavy. Around you, the party continued, distant, an echo of laughter and music, but at this moment there was only him, and the decision you had to make.

The hallway was silent, almost as if the party had vanished and only the two of you remained, trapped in that suspended moment. His proximity made the air seem heavier, charged with something you could no longer ignore. You knew you should move away, that crossing that line could have consequences, but at that moment all rational thought was fading, consumed by the intensity of his presence and the intoxicating effect of the alcohol.

Max looked at you with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. You felt his gaze running over you as if he could read every doubt, every hidden thought you refused to admit. He didn't move, but he didn't back down either. It was as if he was waiting for you to decide, giving you all the control and, at the same time, all the weight of that choice.

Finally, unable to contain yourself any longer, you took a step towards him. It was barely a fraction of a distance, but it was enough to make you feel even closer. You noticed how his expression changed, his subtle smile turning into a satisfied smirk. Max raised a hand and gently slid it over your arm, his touch light, barely a brush that sent a shiver down the length of your spine.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down," he murmured, his voice almost a whisper that echoed in the hallway.

Without saying anything else, he looked at you with that mix of confidence and sweetness that made your defenses crumble. With a dangerous calm, Max leaned towards you, until his lips barely touched yours. It was a brief contact, barely a brush, as if he was giving you one last chance to stop him. But you didn't.

Unable to resist any longer, you closed the small distance between you and kissed him, letting all the pent-up tension fade away in that instant. His hand moved up to your cheek, holding you firmly as the kiss deepened. His mouth was warm, safe, and you felt like the whole world was disappearing with each passing second, until there was nothing left but him.

Max gently pushed you against the wall, his hands moving down your arms, your sides, until they were on your waist, holding you with the same firmness he used to control his car on the track. He kissed you with an intensity that made you lose your breath, and you found yourself tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you, letting yourself go without hesitation.

Everything about him drew you in an inescapable way. His scent, his restrained strength, his control, and the way he seemed to read your thoughts without you saying a word. You felt like time was slipping away, and at the same time, every second was eternal, every movement of his etching itself into your memory, into your skin.

When he pulled away for just a moment to look at you, his eyes shone with a mix of desire and a hint of satisfaction. He knew you had fallen, that you had crossed that line, and he didn't seem to regret it in the slightest. His lips were so close you could feel his breath, and before you could say a word, he smiled and kissed you again, even more intensely than before.

Every time his lips moved over yours, you lost yourself more in the sensation, in the danger and the attraction. Rationality, guilt, everything seemed far away, insignificant compared to the need to feel it, to let yourself go to that moment that you had secretly desired and that was now real, tangible, in his arms.

Without realizing it, your hands went down his chest, feeling the strength of his muscles under the fabric of his shirt, and he let out a soft moan that made you shudder. Max was a sea of ​​intensities and contrasts, and, having him so close, you knew there was no turning back.

After a last kiss full of desire, both of you separated, aware that you could not disappear for long without raising suspicions. Max looked at you with a satisfied and complicit expression. He ran his hand over your face, giving you a look that was both comforting and challenging, a silent promise that this did not end here. But now both of you had to go back.

With a brief smile and no further words, he stepped away, turning down the hall as if nothing had happened. You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, his figure melting back into the hustle and bustle of the party. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, to regain control of your emotions and erase any hint of what had just happened. You couldn't let anyone notice, much less Lando.

You walked back into the living room with measured steps, trying to relax, even though your heart was pounding. Your hands were shaking slightly, and you struggled to remember how to keep a neutral expression. The music, the lights, the laughter around you seemed to echo the intensity of your encounter with Max, and with each passing second you wondered if anyone suspected something, if it could be seen in your gaze, in the way you moved.

In the distance, you saw Lando laughing with some friends, completely oblivious to what had just happened in the hallway. When you met him, he gave you an effusive hug, and you tried to respond with the same naturalness, as if nothing had changed, as if your heart wasn't still beating with the memory of Max.

"Where have you been?" Lando asked you, without suspecting anything, looking at you with that familiarity that you had always felt. His smile was warm, an anchor that made you feel on the verge of guilt.

"Oh, I went to the bathroom, and then I saw the girls and we stayed talking for a while," you lied, forcing a smile as you tried to push away any thoughts of what had happened moments ago.

You nodded as Lando offered you another drink, and forced yourself to smile and laugh with him, even though your mind was elsewhere.

As Lando spoke to you, you nodded, trying to focus on each word.

In the distance, once again, you caught sight of Max's figure in the crowd. He looked at you again, this time with a much more subtle, discreet expression. No one else seemed to notice the silent exchange between the two of you, but you knew he was there, watching you, a constant reminder of what had happened and what could happen again.

As the party continued, you forced yourself to stay by Lando's side, sharing laughs and enjoying the night at his side. But deep down, a part of you had already changed.

When the night finally began to fade and tiredness weighed on you, you and Lando decided to head back to the hotel. You walked beside him, silently, enjoying the cool early morning air that tried to dissipate the heat and bustle of the party. Lando, exhausted but content, took your hand and smiled at you before looking out at the street, distracted and sleepy. You clung to that moment of peace with him.

It wasn't long before your phone vibrated in your bag. At first, you didn't pay much attention, thinking it would be one of your friends or just some unimportant notification. However, upon hearing the sound for the second and third time, your curiosity got the better of you and you surreptitiously pulled out your phone, taking advantage of the fact that Lando was busy checking something on his own phone.

The screen lit up with a name that made your heart skip a beat: Max Verstappen. Your pulse instantly quickened, and you glanced at Lando out of the corner of your eye, making sure he was still distracted. You tried to stay calm, but each new vibration of the phone seemed to intensify your nervousness.

"How did he get your number?" you wondered, incredulous. Maybe he had gotten it through some acquaintance, some mutual contact. But instead of worrying you, that initiative on his part made a shiver of excitement and fear run through you.

You read the first message quickly, your heart beating so hard it seemed to echo in the stillness of the early morning.

Max: “Do you regret what happened tonight?"

You kept your eyes on the screen, noticing the confident expression his words inspired in you, knowing he knew the answer well.

With your thumb shaking, you scrolled to the next message:

Max: "I hope not, because I don't plan on forgetting it that easily."

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the mix of emotions that was overwhelming you. You knew it was a delicate situation, but the adrenaline you felt from those messages made it impossible for you to turn away from that conversation. Lando, oblivious to what was happening, smiled at you and put an arm around your shoulder, hugging you as you walked towards the hotel entrance. You tried hard to smile back, trying to erase any hint of nervousness.

However, as soon as you entered the elevator, your phone vibrated again. Max seemed to have no intention of waiting for a response, and the next message was even more direct:

Max: "If you decide to go out again, I'll be awake."

The short sentence caused your cheeks to heat up. You stared at the message for a few seconds, as the elevator rose and you struggled to keep a neutral expression. You didn’t want Lando to suspect anything, but it was impossible not to feel the urge to respond.

Finally, when they reached the door of the room and Lando dropped his things, exclaiming with an exhausted sigh, you took advantage of that moment to type a quick and short response, trying to control the emotion that was overwhelming you.

You: “I don’t plan on forgetting this night either.”

You put your phone on silent and joined Lando, trying to focus on him and the routine of the night.

Even though you had silenced the notifications, your mind kept going back to Max’s messages. You knew it would be best to ignore him and not let yourself get dragged further into what had already happened that night, but the temptation to check each of his messages was too strong. Lando slept soundly beside you, the exhaustion of the race and the party having overcome him in no time, while you tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep.

The early morning was advancing, and every second in the dimness of the room only made the urge to check your phone more pressing. Finally, unable to resist it any longer, you carefully reached out and took the phone. You unlocked it, and immediately, several new messages from Max lit up the screen.

The first message was direct, almost as if he were daring you to respond:

Max: "Still awake?"

Seeing that simple question, your heart raced again, and in that moment you knew he was waiting, attentive, too.

You scrolled down to the next message, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Max: "I can't stop thinking about you tonight."

The intensity of his words made the room seem even quieter, like the whole world had stopped and the only thing that existed was the conversation they were having. Your finger lowered once more, and the last message was the one that left you speechless:

Max: “If you ever get tired of what you have… you know where to find me.”

You read those words over and over again, trying to process the weight of what Max was implying.

Without realizing it, a slight tremor took over your hand as you held the phone. You didn’t know how to respond, or if you should. You knew you couldn’t erase what had happened, and the memory of his lips, his touch, his gaze, all of it still burned your skin. Part of you wanted to respond, to let go, to explore that desire you had held onto for so long.

The temptation was impossible to ignore, and before you knew it, your fingers began typing, guided by a mix of excitement and the urge to find out how far this conversation could take you.

You: “Max, you know this shouldn’t be happening.”

Almost immediately, the three dots appeared on the screen, signaling that Max was typing. Your heart was racing as you waited for his response, nervous and expectant at the same time.

Max: “Really? Because I think it should happen. I think we’ve been ignoring it for too long.”

His words were confident.

You: “It’s crazy, Max. You know that.”

Max: “I know that. But tell me, do you really want to stop here?”

You read his message over and over, considering his question. You knew what he was hoping to hear, and a part of you wanted to too, even though your mind kept telling you it was dangerous, that you shouldn’t go any further. But the rational part of you was growing weaker in the face of Max's intensity and the night they'd shared.

After a few seconds, you decided to answer, taking a little more risk.

You: "I don't know if I want to stop, Max… But I don't know what this means either."

Max's response came almost instantly, as if he'd been waiting for that opening.

Max: "It means whatever you want it to mean. I'm not going to pressure you, but I think we both feel something more. Don't tell me you don't feel the same spark."

The directness of his words disarmed you. You had tried to ignore it, rationalize it, even suppress it. But now that he'd said it out loud, that he'd given that spark a name, it was impossible to deny the reality. It wasn't just a one-night stand; it was something you'd felt for him since before you met Lando, a kind of fascination and attraction that now seemed to have a life of its own.

You: "This isn't easy. You know I'm with Lando."

Max: “I know. I’m not asking you to make a decision right now. I just want you to know that I’ll be here, if you ever decide that this is worth it.”

His words echoed in your mind, and you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to allow yourself to explore what he had to offer. You knew it was a line that, once crossed, there was no turning back. And yet, every message from Max made the barrier between reason and desire crumble a little more.

You: “It’s harder than you imagine.”

Max: “Maybe. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that things that are truly worth it are rarely easy.”

You bit your lip, staring at his words and feeling a mix of intense emotions.

You: “So, what do we do now?”

There was a pause, and for a moment you thought maybe he wouldn’t respond. But then came his message, simple and direct.

Max: "For now, we're keeping this between us. There's no rush… But I'm not going to let this end here."

You fell silent, contemplating his words and feeling your heart race. You knew nothing would be the same after tonight.

[rosieofcorona]

Mythal, Solas, and Lavellan (An Analysis)

Please be aware that this post contains spoilers for Dragon Age: The Veilguard, so now is the time to click away until you have finished the game. All opinions shared here are just opinions, and are not intended to be presented as fact. 💕

So, this is sort of an abridged version of what could be (and may someday be) a more in-depth analysis, but I just want to offer a different perspective on the Mythal vs. Lavellan discourse when it comes to Solas’ love and loyalty. I've included a lot of supporting evidence from the game, and wanted to share some of it for your consideration: I want to start in the Lighthouse, for the folks who are upset that we didn't see Lavellan amongst Solas' memories. I think this is for the best, all things considered. The regrets we see in the Lighthouse are all of Mythal– taking a form for her, letting her mold him, doing things he thought were “monstrous” at her request, however well (or ill) intentioned. To me, Solas regrets Mythal nearly as a whole. He loved her, certainly, but I think it’s very apparent that he wants more than anything to close that chapter of his life and move on, which he cannot do without confronting the mistakes of his past. From my view, it’s an excellent sign, actually, that Lavellan is not among the great regrets of his life. He says to Rook that he regrets being selfish with her– but he “cherishes” his closeness with, and his love for Lavellan “more than [his] victories.” The same cannot be said of anything on those walls in the Lighthouse.

That same closeness with Mythal– regardless of whether it was romantic, platonic, familial– hurt him, over and over. Everything he did in service of that love, he regrets. He does not cherish it, at least not in the same way. I think I would’ve been offended, frankly, if Lavellan had been on those walls beside her.

Moreover, he acknowledges Lavellan’s goodness, and doesn’t really do that for Mythal, at least not here. Yes, in Trespasser, he said that Mythal was the best of the Evanuris, but we know it’s a low bar to clear. Does that mean she was evil? Not necessarily. But he also says to Rook that all the Evanuris “were monsters, in their own ways,” and moments later tells them, by contrast, that Lavellan “is a good woman.”

I don’t think it’s his love for Mythal (or even his loyalty to her) that keeps him away from Lavellan, either. He cannot in good conscience give himself what he wants most without first fixing what he broke. He doesn’t want to bring down the Veil anymore, not really. He even acknowledges the Dalish as "our people," to an elven Rook (Lavellan's influence?), and says it was a "privilege" to help them again. He says in the final confrontation that he is compelled to bring down the Veil at this point because otherwise, he has failed and wronged and harmed people for nothing– Lavellan among them. He says, more or less, that he has to see it through, has to bring back “the world [Mythal] wanted,” or else all the suffering he’s imposed has been in vain. That reads to me as a sunk cost fallacy more than an act of great loyalty. 

If we’re talking about what Solas wanted, by comparison, we see it in his codex letter to Lavellan– he says, outright, “I could have…even put my plans aside, and simply stayed with you as Solas…which is what I wanted.” His desires do not match Mythal’s, and in fact are the opposite. But again, how can he allow himself to have his own way when he does not yet feel he has righted his wrongs? 

Here we wade into murkier waters (as this could be a more personal interpretation than what was actually intended), but I think it’s fascinating that in Solas’ memory of manifestation, he tells Mythal, “I will always follow where you go.” I think this may be his original regret. I think he wishes he would’ve followed his heart (both in the moral sense, and later, the vhenan sense), rather than pledging himself to another being that “broke him,” as Mythal herself admits to doing.

And speaking of vhenan, my final note: Mythal is never anything but Mythal, to Solas. Even when she calls him “love" in his memories, he does not reciprocate. He refers to her as nothing besides her name. Lavellan is always given the title of Vhenan. He has not called her Inquisitor since before Trespasser, and even then it was because he was trying to create distance, to avoid hurting her further. But ultimately she is his heart, and he wants to follow her, and Mythal is the only thing stopping him– not because he is holding onto her, but because she is in his way.

[andiloveher]

about a girl.

tate langdon x reader | introductions

september 24, 2009.

bullshit. that word repeated in your head over and over again as you unpacked each box. california sounded like a dream. hollywood, beverly hills, everything was good in california - or so your parents made it seem.

they were hiding something, and you knew it, yet they stayed silent. you questioned their logic. their morality. why would you pick up your family and move miles away from family, and friends, and comfortability? you couldn't rack your brain around it.

it wasn't like you had a say either, if you did, you wouldn't be unpacking your clothes in the infamous "Murder House."

you never felt a certain way about ghost. you didn't own a ouija board or deep dived into seances, but you also didn't believe they weren't entirely real. the murders that occured in the house were known, by everyone, probably why your family got such a great deal on it. the murders fascinated you. how did everyone who live in this house, die here? why were all of them murders? how did all of them become murders?

your thoughts were interrupted by your mother.

"you're not done packing yet?"

you shook your head, your eyes remaining on the clothes you hung up in your closet. your bed was covered in your clothes, your jewelry packed in a large jar, your boxes on books were the only thing unpacked.

"well," your mother sighed, "your father and i are about to grab some groceries, will you be alright by yourself?"

you turned to her, "what if the ghost come get me?" you asked, sarcastically, giving her a soft grin.

she returned with her loving smile. "there should be a landline somewhere in your room, we'll be back in around an hour." she began to step out before she peeked her head back in. "oh, and watch out for the neighbor, her daughter let yourself in earlier."

you nodded, waving goodbye as she exited, listening to her feet drag down the stairs and the front door shut.

right after the door shut, you made your way over to one of the boxes, the word written across in bold letters "FRAGILE". you opened it up, being greeted by around 2 dozen CDs and your CD player. you took out the CD player, and hooked it up, your attention going back to the box to pick a disc, soon grabbing one of your favorites , nirvana's bleach album. you slid the disc in and pressed play. about a girl began to play, kurt's voice filling the silent void of your room as you continued to unpack. making your way back over to your closet, unpacking the last of your clothes. you began to tear the box down before a different voice grabbed your attention.

"is that kurt cobain?" his voice was soft, and filled with curiosity. you didn't know this voice.

you raised your head, being greeted by an unfamiliar yet.. comforting face. his eyes were as soft as his voice, yet, his pupils pierced through you, as if they were soulless. his blonde hair complimented his pale skin. he wore dark colors. you didn't realize how long you were examining him until he looked over at the CD player then back at you, waiting for a response.

"how did you get in my house?" you muttered, neglecting any greetings.

"the door was open, constance said i should say hi." he responded, his words flew off his tongue smoothly.

"constance?"

"your neighbor?"

"oh."

the fact that you hadn't spoken to anyone but your family today, flew past your mind. you forgot you have neighbors. usually you would question this. there's no way your parents left the door open. and even then, what gave him the right to walk in here? but something about him. you wanted his presence. you didn't speak out, in fear that he would leave. you still wanted answers, but you would get them another time.

you walked up closer to him, still keeping a distance. "i'm y/n." you muttered, almost like you were doing a class icebreaker.

"tate." the blonde responded, blunty. he turned back to your CD. "do you have nevermind?" he asked, referencing another nirvana album.

you nodded, taking in his facial features as he spoke. his face turned back to you. somehow, you were much closer than you thought in a matter of words. the blonde looked down at you, you began to exam you too. his eyes were dark, so dark, they almost felt comforting. the sides of his mouth soon turned upward. oh my. his smile. it seemed like he enjoyed looking at you as much as you did with him.

maybe it wouldn't be so bad here.

[twilightkitkat]

Thinking about when Deadpool and Wolverine takes place in the timeline and how it falls in place with Logan (2019).

I like to mainly ignore the mess of a timeline or think they just retconned the timelines so that Deadpool & Wolverine took place after Logan (meaning Logan took place earlier somehow?). Still, it's also very possible Deadpool time-traveled forward to Logan's grave using the TVA device.

In which case it's fascinating that they chose Wade from 2024 to snatch instead of... any other point in time. When they very well could've just grabbed him at a time when he would've been OK with leaving because Vanessa died (and they could promise to bring him to a new version of her). It insinuates that there was a reason to go back to 2024 and snatch this Deadpool in particular at his birthday party of all things. Maybe they realized he was the most psychologically vulnerable, then, and that he wanted a sense of greater purpose desperately enough to be willing to join them.

But aside from the choice to choose that version of Wade, we need to review the implication that the original Logan could currently be alive in the timeline. He died in 2029, and Wade is currently living in 2024. In this case, however, wouldn't Wade's first course of action be to... stop him from dying in his own timeline? If his death hadn't yet occurred and wouldn't for several years, he should be able to just alter the timeline and keep the original Logan alive as an anchor point.

Of course, Marvel wouldn't allow the Deadpool and Wolverine Movie to touch the original timeline so this option is out for meta reasons. However, you could argue that canonically, the main reason Wade avoided this was that he didn't have the time. The TVA operates independently of the timeline, so if Wade went back a few years, they could just zap in, too. He'd have a few days at most before they caught up to him, and that wasn't enough time to completely change Logan's mind and prevent him from dying. If it was a single moment, it could be prevented, but Logan had been slowly poisoning himself for years. Also, no way in hell could he convince Logan to help him out back then in the time allotted.

That being said, I find it really interesting that the TVA chose now to eliminate the timeline. If all timelines flow linearly and the TVA knows about how the future will go, would they not have known that the anchor being was going to die? And if it would wipe the entire timeline from existence from the very start, then wouldn't the timeline immediately end as soon as it began? Considering the Deadpool 2024 timeline was going to be wiped when Logan died in 2029. You'd think the timeline would start destabilizing after 2029 or the point of his canonical death, which is another reason I personally like to move his death earlier up to avoid all the confusion.

Another explanation for this could be that there is a "flow of time" as the TVA sees time as it unfolds normally. They can see different possibilities, but are not omniscient. Therefore, once "2029" hit and Logan died, they had to decide how to move forward and decided to take Deadpool and then end the entire timeline at the "2029" timestamp before it got further, thus eliminating all the years before it (including Wade's) in the process.

Aside from timeline technicalities, let's consider Logan's role in the world in the Logan and Deadpool & Wolverine movies.

I think it's important to point out that the one kid's reaction to seeing The Wolverine wasn't fear, but awe and excitement. This means that while mutants still might face discrimination, they aren't viewed as inherently bad by the population. According to "Logan," mutants had been actively hunted for years, but in Deadpool and Wolverine which takes place only 5 years prior, the X-men have a positive public reception. Logan quit publicly being the Wolverine by this point in time, judging by his absence at X-mansion and the shock of the kid.

I think that the majority of mutant hate began with the Westchester Incident in 2028. I also think that while Charles in particular was a target of mutant hatred, there were some more progressive areas of the world where it wasn't as much of an issue to be a mutant. (Just like the current US, I think that mutant policies would vary based on state legislature. I think it'd be handled similarly to abortion laws—the federal protection was taken away and so mutants were targeted, but some states still advocated for their rights.)

I also like to think that the "corn syrup" plot would be fixed in this new timeline and that Logan in particular just consumed products with those issues. There wouldn't just be one supplier and he drinks an absurd amount of alcohol, which would lead to his issues. Other mutants in the Deadpool Universe don't suffer from a lack of abilities, and only Logan was affected by the corn syrup dramatically among his friends. They talked about gene therapy as if it was put into the corn syrup a long time ago, which wouldn't make sense because the X-men and villains all have full mutation strength currently.

Therefore, the corn syrup is either more localized to the products Logan was buying (potentially in Mexico), or it was a weak form of therapy. I believe it could be a mixture of both. After all, the corn syrup just suppressed the "latent" X genes in children, it didn't stop the gene in any already expressed mutants aside from Logan. His healing factor was strong enough to deter it normally, except he was being affected by adamantium poisoning and he wasn't eating properly. Wolverine needs sustenance to fuel his healing factor, but as shown in the movie he wasn't eating. He only really drank alcohol, which had a high concentration of corn syrup, on an empty stomach.

Basically, Logan only died because he didn't eat enough to fuel his healing factor to work against the corn syrup and he consumed it in large quantities without any food to absorb it. It wouldn't be dangerous to other mutants like Deadpool who only consume it in trace amounts and get nutrition from the foods they eat which helps absorb the chemicals. If Logan had eaten properly, this wouldn't have happened.

Assuming that another Wolverine was running around at this point in time, he likely is currently in Mexico or Canada and away from Deadpool's area. The X-mansion will continue to stay intact in the future even after Logan and Charles leave, as shown by the more recent movies, so the timeline would be largely unaffected.

(Except for the fact that this current Logan exists and is living with Wade. It would definitely be odd to some people to see Logan suddenly show up looking a lot less aged living with a mercenary, but I think most of them would take it in stride.)

All of this is to say that I just ignore the timeline and like to think Logan died back in 2019 instead of 2029 (or that Deadpool has meta-knowledge that shapes his perception to be that way.) But it is interesting to consider the implications of the timeline if we take it seriously.

[rey-jake-therapist]

Haladriel : power play

I keep reading that Sauron didn't stop manipulate Galadriel for all season 1, that she's a poor victim, that she was abused by the big bad guy, yada yada.... It's false. Lol sorry but for most of season 1, it was Galadriel who pulled all the strings and Sauron, though reluctant at the beginning because he wanted to stay in Numenor and take the path of repentance, was happy to play along. "She wants me to be a king ? Alright, I'll be her king. Let it be my GIFT to her." The Lord of gifts is back, baby !

This dynamic changed during the finals though. I find Haladriel fascinating because there's always one who tops and the other who sorry, one who leads and the other who follows. In season 1, it was clearly Galadriel who was the leader in their dynamic. Can't escape the sexual metaphor I'm afraid 🤣, she was basically the dom. She gave orders, antagonized everyone starting with him, manipulated both him and Miriel, lied, gained time...

And he just happily followed, basically, mostly amused by this little young Elf (yeah she was baby if you think of it, Sauron's ancient lol) who bossed everyone around and thought she knew everything. I don't think he expected her to use his own tricks on him, and he was pretty much upset first because she was tempting him into a path he didn't want to go back to (oh the irony of Sauron being tempted into doing something bad...), but I think he was also impressed. He had just told her a couple of hours before how to use people's greatest fears to control them, and here she was.... Just doing it. On him !! The temptation to give her a good spank while whispering congratulation words for being such a good listener must have been.... Very strong.

The dynamic started to change the day Galadriel suspected Halbrand was not who she thought he was. One thing I always wondered is : did Sauron hope that Celebrimbor would repeat these words, "power over flesh", in front of Galadriel, because he wanted to prepare her for the revelation he intended to make when the rings would be ready ?

Anyway, to me the dynamic changed at this very moment :

I wrote a meta dedicated to "Sauron, Galadriel and touching" here. At the risk of sounding like a pretentious person who loves to hear her own voice, I'll do something I never do, quote myself :

Now, back to Sauron. While during all season 1 he was never touchy with Galadriel, in episode 8, he suddenly is. Not only that but he's also very flirtatious, like... more than usual. Galadriel seems surprised with this unsolicited touching, and iffy, because she doesn't trust him anymore. She has just asked one of her fellow Elves to look in the catacombs of Eregion for everything they had about the Southlands and their royal lineage; after she heard Celebrimbor talk about "power over flesh" and seen Sauron enthusiastically offer his aid to the smith, she starts suspecting that Halbrand may be not who he claims to be. Coincidence ? I think not. Even if she remained discreet, Sauron probably felt that something was off. He's very observant, and he knows her mind. If she changed of attitude with him, if she seemed even a little bit wary of him, there's no doubt he noticed it. He certainly planned to tell her the truth about him very soon, at that point, but he also wants the rings to be forged so he could show her what they'd do with them. So this, imho, is Sauron buying time. He knows she's attracted to him, he may even know she's in love with him... I think he's trying to breach her defenses, here.

Like I said in my linked post, so far Sauron never touched Galadriel umprompted. It is a first. And he was flirtatious before, but the way he leans in to whisper in her ear... That's something else. It's Sauron turning the tables and taking control of their dynamic. After this scene, up until the fight, we only see Galadriel in a retreat position, literally sidelined while Sauron found himself a new playmate (Celebrimbor), and she can do nothing but observe what is happening; she can't reveal her doubts as long as she doesn't get the confirmation she asked for. Of course, she hates it.

Then the finals. Galadriel confronts Sauron, who not only doesn't deny anything, but makes fun of her previous claim that she's much older than he is, by revealing he's himself older than the world. Notice how their behavior has changed, compared to how they were during the previous episodes : he's the one being sure of himself and controlling the situation, while she's confused and has lost all her composure, as all her certainties fall into crumbles.

Then she tries to stab him, but he effortlessly parries her attack.

Then she loses consciousness as he takes literal control of her mind. Starting from here, and up until the one, he's the dom dominating the situation ! He masquerades as her brother to manipulate her feelings, then brings her back to the raft, appeals to her temptation for power, offers her the moon and more. Then when she refuses, he makes himself indispensable by reminding her that without him, her people are doomed, presses where it hurts ("they cast you out"), and appeals to her pride ("what will they do when you tell them that you were my ally ?").

NOW that's some manipulation. Only then, did we get a glimpse of the tactics he would use on Celebrimbor in season 2.

As for their dynamics in season 2 finals, do I really need to spell it out ?

Galadriel tries to reverse the dynamics when she kicks Sauron in the face and tells him "the door shut", but ultimate fails. Oh, wait, does she ?

Galadriel almost gives in to Sauron in this finals. I know it's a popular interpretation that she was totally faking it when she took off Nenya and handed it to him, but it simply doesn't make sense with the music and the atmosphere of this scene. And if the "new bond" theory is true, it makes it even more impossible because there's no way she could pretend anything while being newly bound to Sauron. She looks captivated and ready to give in because she is, imho. This is her "last temptation". And Sauron believes that as well, because he saw it in her mind. He believes he won her over, because he almost did, indeed.

He looks so happy, I could almost feel sorry for him... What Sauron wanted Galadriel to understand, was that he wanted to heal Middle-Earth, to let him do that by giving him Nenya. He looks so happy here because he believes he has achieved that, at last.

I think Galadriel is also convinced that he wants to heal Middle-Earth, but she can never approve his methods, so... She lets herself fall off the cliff to escape him and by doing so, reverses the dynamics and takes power again, even at the risk of losing her life in the process. Sacrificing yourself not to let your toxic ex win you over is the ultimate power move if you ask me.

I know there's a new popular theory that wants Nenya to be the one who made Galadriel snap out of it, but sorry, I strongly disagree with this idea. One, because it takes off Galadriel's agency : she was saved by Elrond, saved by Arondir, and now Nenya ? I can't deny it's a personal bias as I want Galadriel to save herself in this one, and I won't go and claim it as a fact.. but sorry, it's a no for me. I've been told about the "Nenya sound" playing during this scene. Well, precisely, this sound tells me exactly the opposite of this theory, because it is heard when Galadriel is handing Nenya to Sauron, and stops exactly when she snaps out of it to say "Heal yourself".

It seems to me that Nenya wanted to go to Sauron, and not the other way around. Sauron said, "the rings are mine". I thought for a while that he meant only the Nine, but no, he considers that all the rings, including the Elven ones, are his. He thinks of himself as "their master". But he also knows that Nenya picked Galadriel as her bearer (or was it him ?), so she's also Galadriel's ring. That's why he wants her to give Nenya to him, as a sign of submission to him. The way I see it, when he asked Galadriel to give him Nenya, he expected Nenya to push her in this direction, and I think that's what Nenya indeed did, hence the sound.

Except that Galadriel resisted. It left Sauron confused. Then he thought about the Dwarves rings, whose owners also refused to be controlled by him even though he had more input in the creation of their rings than he had in the Elven ones'. So he will forge the One Ring, that will allow him, he believes, to take such a tight control on his rings that their bearers will no longer be able to resist him. The Elves will realize that pretty fast and will reluctanctly take off their rings, for all the time that Sauron will wear the One Ring.

"But the Elves were not so lightly to be caught. As soon as Sauron set the One Ring upon his finger they were aware of him; and they knew him, and perceived that he would be master of them, and of all that they wrought. Then in anger and fear they took off their rings." [The Silmarillion].

Interesting fact : the One Ring never seeme to affect the Dwarves. Their rings made them more greedy than they already were, but forging the One Ring didn't allow Sauron to control them. It has been suggested that it could be because they weren't aware of its power/didn't understand it :

The Dwarves used their Seven Rings to establish their treasure hoards, but Sauron was unable to force the Dwarven bearers to submit. It is believed that the dwarves' natural hardiness, and the fact that it was only the more powerful dwarf lords who possessed them, made them resistant to Sauron's control, yet allowed them to accumulate treasure. The final ring to leave the possession of the dwarves occurred when Thráin II was captured. Source

If a Tolkien expert is in the room and can provide some context, it'd be very nice...

Funny how Galadriel's "I resisted" sounds delusional in retrospect. She really believes she did, doesn't she ? She believes that, because when Sauron offered her to be his queen (a fact which for *cough* some reasons *cough* she chose to hide from Elrond, Gil-Galad and of course, Adar himself...), she said 'no'.

The thing is, she indeed vocally resisted to the temptation of joining him, but everything she did afterwards showed Galadriel actually doing exactly what he wanted her to do.

I mean, who wanted rings ? Sauron. She knew that Sauron worked for Celebrimbor for weeks, knew he was the one who came up with the idea of a "power over flesh", knew it was his idea to tap into the unseen world, knew he had put his evil hands literally everywhere in the forge, including the mithril and her own dagger... And yet, she.... wait, she did exactly what Sauron disguised as Finrod told her to !

Sauron wanted these rings to be made, and she complied. To paraphrase Elrond, she gave him what he wanted and thanked him for that, I mean look at how happy she was to have a ring :

And if you're not convinced, there's the forewarning vision of Celebrimbor that Galadriel had in early S2, with Sauron calling her name and Celebrimbor asking her "are these not the seeds you planted ?", before being suffocated to death by roots looking like snakes :

There are no subtitles for what Celebrimbor said in black speech so here's the translation :

"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die"

This vision showed almost exactly what would happen: the rings that Sauron would forge, and Celebrimbor's death. Even the way he dies in the vision is identical to his actual death. Galadriel believes it's a warning sent by Nenya and that she has to go to Eregion to save Celebrimbor, but wasn't it another trick of Sauron, who as Elrond suggested, probably wanted her in Eregion ?

I was divided on this point until the finals really, where Sauron turned into Celebrimbor and repeated the exact same sentence she had heard in the vision: "Aren't they the seeds you planted ?".

How could Sauron know about that, if he wasn't the one who sent her the vision ? For the record, it wasn't a mind palace case like in season 1, where he invaded Galadriel's mind and used her memories of her brother. Halbrand's words, her own words, they all came from his memories. So in all logic, so did vision Celebrimbor's.

Sauron also wanted Galadriel not to reveal his identity : check.

Instead of telling Celebrimbor and Elrond the truth about Halbrand, she just inexplicably chose to keep her mouth shut, and left Eregion without informing Celebrimbor that the nice human he had worked with for weeks was actually Sauron, the Great Deceiver. She rather took the risk of letting Sauron come back in Eregion (I mean, telling Celebrimbor not to work with Halbrand again wasn't enough of a warning, be serious Gal !), than admit she had let a demon in his walls ; because of her pride, exactly as Sauron wanted. This bastard looked so smug about it when he realized she had done exactly what he expected her to :

If she had told Celebrimbor the truth, he would have never been allowed to even pass the door. This tolerance told him everything he needed to know.

But apart from that... She "resisted".

I'm very curious to see what will be the dynamics for season 3. Who will lead the dance this time ? My bet is on Galadriel.

[average-mako-enjoyer]

I need your Kaidan opinions for the fave character game. Pwease. 😻

From the character ask game.

Oh God, I will have to change my pants by the time I'm done.

Favorite thing about them

Everything??? He's such a complex dude, and all of his complexity is shown so subtly in a way that also reflects him as a character. I love it.

But most of all, his emotional maturity, his intelligence, his self-esteem, and honestly, how incredibly badass he is.

He doesn't use Shepard as a therapist, as a fixer for his problems, as a pillar of strength to lean on. Instead, he always comes into this relationship (platonic or romantic) as an equal, and it's so refreshing to see.

Every other squadmate needs something from Shepard, and with Kaidan it's the other way around. It's Shepard who needs Kaidan, a person who will remind them that what military propaganda usually pushes as "the hardest choices a soldier can make" are actually the laziest choices.

Kaidan knows that killing is easy. Destroying is easy. But showing restraint, showing compassion, trusting someone, doing the right thing, that's hard.

Also, Kaidan is literally the only squadmate who consistently tells Shepard that they can step aside, that they don't have to do everything alone, that they have their team for a reason, and oh god, thank you Kaidan, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Least favorite thing about them

My god, he's stubborn.

And yes, Shepard needs someone like that in their close circle, but oh Kaidan, my man, my dude, my wonderful human being, you have to learn to relax, to let things go sometimes.

I think the main thing about him is that he's actually so passionate, he feels deeply, and friendship and love are so important to him, but he has trust issues, and he has standards, and he's very intelligent, and all of that runs over this deep well of emotions that he carries around.

He wants to love with abandon, but he can't. He wants to do the right thing all the time, but it's impossible. He has to learn how to compromise, how to live in the gray area.

Honestly, there are so many parallels between his and you-know-who's ark, no wonder all his fans feel so strongly about Kaidan.

Favorite line

So, so many.

"I think we're gonna need a bigger boot, Commander."

"I could shoot someone if it would make you feel better."

"Mike Hazer? Hazer the Laser? Almost didn't recognize you. ... You owe me money."

"Looking back, I have a few regrets, but not many. That's pretty damn amazing, right? Messed up kid that I was, never would have dreamed of the life I've had."

"You'll never find out."

I love his sarcastic ass. And I love all the glimpses into that deep well that is his heart. He's so good.

brOTP

Joker! Oh my God, that first dialog between them is fucking amazing. I feel like Joker is one of Kaidan's main sources of gossip (something Kaidan is interested in both professionally and recreationally), and Joker finds Kaidan's dry wit incredibly funny. They get along just fine because they enjoy teasing each other for sport, but other people probably misinterpret this as dislike. Same with him and Ash.

Also, Tali! Two nerds just talking about tech, weapon mods, all that good stuff. And he's obviously very sweet and protective of her. I really have to read about those two.

If we're talking about ME2 squadmates, his choice would obviously be Samara. I think he would've been fascinated by her story, her abilities, her lifestyle and would've hung out with her a lot. They're just very similar people in my mind, and for Kaidan, it would have been an excellent insight into the extremes of the morality he tends to lean towards.

In ME3, he probably hangs out a lot with James and Steve because he likes Steve and he can tolerate James most of the time. XD I think Kaidan and Steve have a lot in common. There's this careful quietness about them. They're both observers, they're both cautious and reserved. And I think Kaidan can see that there's kindness at the core of Steve's soul, and that's important to him.

And finally, mShenko, because whether they end up as a couple or not, they're friends first and foremost. Their romance is purely friends to lovers. Not mentor/mentee+friends to lovers, but friends to lovers. They're open and honest with each other, they care about each other deeply, they know how to tease each other without hurting anyone's feelings. They're equals.

OTP

mShenko. Oh god, it's so good. The slow burn, the maturity of it, how they don't hide behind unnecessary labels and the promises that would probably never be fulfilled. They're just there for each other despite everything, despite their time running out, and it's perfect.

Bonus points for being so obviously horny for each other.

nOTP

Kaidan/Ashley. I just think they work a lot better as friends.

Random headcanon

Kaidan doesn't really like to talk about his childhood, not because it was bad, but because he had a "rich kid's childhood", and things that were common for him throughout his life are actually quite unique and only come when you have a lot of money.

How can you casually mention your annual vacation aboard your family yacht in the company of an Earthborn orphan, a turian from Palaven, and a quarian who spent most of her life on a starship?

Also, both mShep and Kaidan enjoy being knocked around a little from time to time. So they do sparring sessions together, and this shit is _intense_.

Unpopular opinion

He does casual hookups while on shore leave like any other normal Marine. He finds a girl or a guy, fucks nasty, blows off steam, and returns to his duties.

Song i associate with them

Garbage - Control

Favorite picture of them

This one.

Thank you for this ask! I always love to talk about my man Kaidan.

[altocat]

all 50 of those Honest fave character prompts for Sephiroth

( @izunias-meme-hole )

........*cracks knuckles* OKAY.

1. Do you project onto this character?

All the time, every day. Like Sephiroth, I can often be avoidant, depressed, and overly attached to my loved ones. The struggle is real lmao

2. Did you always like this character?

Before falling into fandom hell, I didn't really notice him much other than Kingdom Hearts stuff. Or the occasional thirst post online.

3. What first drew you to this character?

Crisis Core making him a sad soft baby that everyone is mean to lmao

4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character?

No. I always thought he had a cool design and a badass voice.

5. If this character were a woman, would you honestly still like them? Or in reverse, what if they were a man?

Of course! Sephiroth is a fascinating character regardless. His backstory is very unique and I don't think that would change.

6. Do you have any nicknames or pet names you use for this character?

I mostly just call him Seph. Sometimes Kittyroth. Sometimes "Mr. Compassion" whenever I'm being sarcastic about him. And sometimes just SMUGFUCK because that's what he is.

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

Nah. Like I said, he's a fascinating character regardless.

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

I feel like there are certain aspects of his character that you NEED to keep in--his catlike pupils, silver hair, etc. They are plot-related indicators of his heritage and genetics. Thirstposts aside, they are reminder that he is a lab-grown monster with alien blood running through his veins.

9. Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?

Not really. Seph is pretty unique. And honestly I'd rather not know someone like him irl lolol

10. Do you see yourself in this character even without projecting?

Physically? Hell no. Emotionally? Sometimes. But that's on rare occasions where we can actually tell what he's thinking and feeling.

11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?

Watching Crisis Core cutscenes one rainy night in 2021.

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

AU Redemption arc trilogy in which Zack and Aerith save Sephiroth from himself and he dismantles Shinra to become the planet's hero.

13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character?

I'd really like to illustrate a lot of fic scenes. Especially the trippier Jenova-focused ones.

14. Are you physically attracted to this character?

...Yeah lmao But I don't ship myself or my self-insert with him because NO lolol I think he's aesthetically pleasing but I don't associate myself with him in any romantic sense. That's just weird to me.

15. Are your thoughts surrounding this character usually sexual, non-sexual, or a mix of both?

Non-sexual. I'm more interested in his character progression/fall into villainy. Like yeah he's attractive and there are some seductive aspects of his personality. But he's just more interesting to dissect as a villain.

16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely?

Several times lolol usually after First Soldier updates.

17. Have you ever felt physical pain over this character? (ex: physical heartache).

Miiiight have happened once in dms with other fans (thanks @heraldofcrow)

18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?

SUFFER. SUFFERRRRRRR 😈NO COMFORT FOR YOU ALL IS PAIN AND ANGUISH.

19. Does this character serve as a stress ball/ security blanket for you? Something you run to after a bad day to feel safe or happier?

Oh totally. All the time. Imagine cute aggression but it's more angsty lol Angst aggression.

20. Do you feel affectionate towards this character?

For Sane!Sephiroth, yes. Very much so. Not so much after Nibelheim. Then he's just an evil little shit who needs to get clowned by Cloud again.

21. Are your feelings about this character platonic, romantic, or familial? All of these feelings at once maybe?

Platonic-familial. He's my precious baby boy. Who I have to hurt. LET ME HURT HIM.

22. Do you think you will always love this character?

I hope so! Assuming Square doesn't do something stupid.

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

I'm HERE. lmao There's your evidence.

24. Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

I never have dreams about him and it makes me SO MAD SZDFGHFDSA EVERYONE ELSE GETS BLORBO DREAMS EXCEPT FOR ME.

25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not?

I mostly like character studies. Or slow-burn AU fics with him. I'm currently reading The Fear of Falling Stars and it's sooooo good.

26. If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding?

It really depends on the fic tbh.

27. Do you like to ship this character with other characters or do you prefer not to?

I SHIP HIM WITH EVERYONE *feral noises*

28. Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?

Only in select instances. I don't like the dudebro logic of "well Sephiroth was always arrogant/evil even before Nibelheim and he can't be vulnerable or sensitive because that's not badass" because those are fundamentally not true. And an extreme disservice to his writing.

29. Do you affectionately bully this character?

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

30. Are you especially sensitive about this character?

He makes me sad. His story is heartbreaking.

31. Are you ashamed of liking this character?

Nope. Not at all.

32. If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them?

Pumpkin soup, of course!

33. Are you “blinded by love” for this character or do you accept any flaws they may have?

Oh not at all. I have said many many times and will keep saying that Sephiroth does not deserve a happy ending after everything he's done. He deserves to be destroyed for good. He's NOT a good guy, not any more at least. He's caused so much damage in so many horrible ways. There's no going back from that. I love the guy and I feel for him. But that's still no excuse for what he did.

34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life?

Uhhhh no.

35. Has this character ever prevented you from sleeping because you can’t stop thinking about them?

@ me whenever First Soldier updates.

36. Do you feel a spiritual/soulmate connection with this character?

Idk. Probably not. He's my angsty trauma son. But I wouldn't go THAT far lol

37. Is your love for this character a secret from people you know in real life?

Nope. I will literally never shut up about Sephiroth to family or friends lololol

38. Do you tend to joke more about dying or killing for this character? Both? What causes the distinction?

NO because Sephiroth is a villain and the goal is to not become like him lolol

39. Do you feel lovesick over this character?

Nope. He just makes me casually distraught.

40. Are you very empathetic towards this character? When they feel a certain way in the story, do you feel those emotions too?

Very much so. Like I said before, his story is heartbreaking. I've ugly cried about him so many times in the past.

41. Do you prefer to interact with this character directly via self-insert/reader type content? Or do you enjoy seeing them mostly with other characters in the story and/or your OCs?

Other than background OCs, no. I prefer mostly just his relationship with canon characters.

42. If you could, would you write this character a song or poem?

It'd be cool to do something creepy with his relationship with Jenova...

43. What type of weather makes you think of this character?

Rainy days. Because he's depressing.

44. Which season makes you think of this character?

Fall.

45. Do you feel as if you are intimately familiar with this character?

At this point, I'd really like to hope so. They have certainly added a lot of new stuff that feels on point with my previous ideas for him. But I'm open to new stuff too!

46. How much do bad interpretations of this character upset you?

It really depends on how they characterize him as a person before Nibelheim. I don't really like how people sometimes equate his evil/smug/arrogant post-Nibelheim personality with his CC-era one. They're really completely different.

47. Does this character ever make you laugh sincerely?

He made some the FUNNIEST goddamn faces in Rebirth, just sayin'.

48. What’s your favorite physical/design feature for this character?

R trilogy has the best overall design. Hair, eyes, and the sheer SIZE of him. All perfect.

49. What’s your favorite personality trait in this character?

Sane!Seph: His love for his friends

Insane!Seph: Him being a huge petty dick just for the sake of it

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

UHHHHHHHHHHH I'm just going to cheat and say THIS ENTIRE COMMUNITY because Seph-fans are BEST fans and we get along and get shit done. Best content. Best fandom space. No in-fighting or drama on his character. We're ALL peak 😎

[married-to-google-translater]

Hi, can you do the yandere morarity the patriot (did I spell that right, I'm sorry) reaction to reader being from america and being so fascinated by the boys and their british culture, however gets terribly bullied by the other britians for being 'uncultured' and not knowing the basic manners and stuff.

I do this for Yandere William James Moriarty... Since you didin't say wich character

Yandere William James Moriarty

William thinks you'd be really cute.

You had just moved to town and asked him for directions.

That's how you two met and "became friends".

You would be a light in this dark world William.

He would be happy to teach you British culture.

However, not everyone is equally kind to you.

Getting William's attention would make many an aristocratic lady jealous.

Oh and they could be really mean to you.

You certainly wouldn't have as much money as William, but you would enjoy his company.

There would be nothing more for you. However, others would not really believe such a thing.

William would begin to notice differences in your behavior.

He noticed how you would often feel like a monkey and you wouldn't want to see him as much anymore.

You don't have to be a genius to figure out what's going on.

Oh William would be really angry.

Although this would be his fault for not protecting you from this dirty world before.

However, it would end now.

William would promise to protect you better and cleanse this world.

Fortunately, now he would know where to start :D

Yandere Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock could be a really difficult person if he wanted to.

Yandere Sherlock would certainly be no exception.

You and Sherlock first met at the police station.

You were a successful detective in America and you had been sent to London to help Sherlock.

Yeah, Sherlock really hates the idea.

He didn't really "need help" in this case.

However, no one really listened to him.

Culture shock would be difficult for you and Sherlock certainly didn't make the situation any easier.

This guy wouldn't have that much empathy.

He teased you about a lot of things.

However, this would stop when Sherlock started to realize that you could be helpful.

You're really good at your job and Sherlock wouldn't be blind.

His Yandere tendencies would begin to awaken.

Even if Sherlock teased you he wouldn't let anyone else do the same to you.

He would notice such things easily and those people would face great misfortune.

Sherlock would be good at solving crimes and really good at staging them.

He would be willing to do it for you too.

Yeah, you really wouldn't go back to America...

[tremendouscreationperson]

So this is a bit odd but Logan x Death!Reader

There be deaths in here, blood, pains, etc so be careful

Fun fact: I was originally thinking of this for Din Djarin

It had been so long since he had seen you. Far too long. Logan had missed you with every day, every hour, minute and second that passed. You were his love.

Simultaneously the best and worst thing to happen to him.

The ‘best’ because he hadn't ever thought it possible to find his other half. Hadn't believed in the notion of a Soulmate yet you were the proof.

The ‘worst’ because to meet you was strenuous. It literally meant death. He had to be around tragedy to glimpse you and die to touch you.

He couldn't remember the first time you met. You were able to tell him pieces of his life which helped close some of the gaps in his memory.

There had been a car crash, the flames were sweltering as firefighters tried to quash them. Logan didn't raise his head to the wreckage, partly wanting to be respectful but mostly because he could smell the corpse. It was only when he felt eyes piercing his very being that he glanced around eventually landed on you.

Your hair was long and waving in a nonexistent breeze, you wore a dark headpiece which matched your frankly odd - but who was he (wearing yellow Spandex every other day) to judge? - outfit. It was a black skin tight bodysuit adorned with green. What in the Mutant hell were you?

Logan was ready to give you a sneer and fuck off but you smiled sweetly at him, even waving your fingers in a ‘hello’.

He waited, now curious, were you someone he knew from before?

You glided over with unearthly grace and once again offered a smile. “James, it has been decades.”

Logan's brows furrowed. Who the fuck was James? Instead of asking that he opted for the more diplomatic: “Do I know you?”

Your sweet demeanour fell, a flash of hurt covered by a blank slate. “You do.” He watched as your eyes scanned him and then refocused. “You have lost your memories.”

He gave an impatient huff in response.

“We were acquaintances.” Your voice wasn't familiar but his body had relaxed enough to know that was true. “You gave me my name.”

“You called me the wrong one.” He accused. The dog tags he wore told him his name was Logan, he was Logan. Whoever James was, was lost.

“You were James Howlett when we first met.” The flames were gone behind you, the charred body carted away whilst the morbidly fascinated crowd watched on as police took details. “I took your father. It was premature, I thought he could have more time, but I took him and got him safely to the other side."

“Other side?” He quirked a brow, what were you on about, there was no ‘other side’.

“I am a Reaper.” The words were spoken matter-of-factly, as though they weren't batshit.

“Yeah sure.” He rolled his eyes, completely done with this level of nonsense. “Look bub I ain't buying what you're selling so I suppose I'll see you next time I get in a fight.” And with that Logan walked away grumbling.

~~

There was no God, with all his suffering, Logan knew that to be true and in the not-real almighty's cruel twist of fate he was now eating his words.

Your pleasant face hovered over him as he was sprawled on the floor.

“Logan.” You greet.

He didn't have a name for you. “Bub.” He nodded, extending his hand for you to take.

“You can't touch me whilst you're alive.” You pointedly kept your hands behind your back.

“I thought you were a 'Reaper'?” He hoisted himself up, his torso and leg were covered in still warm blood.

“You did briefly die but you never remain dead.” You clarify for him. He knew he healed but he- he didn't know that he couldn't die. Was he immortal? “It took mere seconds for your body to heal.”

“Why are you here then?” He pried the sticky shirt from his chest and cut away at the material.

“I had a point to prove.” You wink before adding, “I thought we'd have more time.”

“More time?” This was trippy. So - if you were to be believed, which he was still very much on the fence about - you were a ‘Reaper’ and he couldn't die and you had had a previous relationship(?) he was unaware of.

A soft sigh escaped you, “sometimes you can pass the first veil, you can enter limbo where some souls linger. We commune there. Would have immediately proved my point.”

“Let me get this straight.” He was now standing before you, bloodied and shirtless, wearing a big confused frown. “I can't die?”

“No. Strictly speaking you are an abomination but you grew on me.” There was a fondness in the crinkle of your eyes and smile lines.

“And how long have we known each other?”

“We first met as I said when I took your father in the 1800s but it wasn't until the 1900s when we began to actively converse.”

Logan's eyes were wide. He knew his healing was good and, yeah, he had just learnt that he was immortal but learning that he was 200+ was quite something.

“I'm sorry, perhaps I should have eased you into that. I forget myself.” At least you had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Uh, it's- it's alright.” He must have been in shock because he just let someone off the hook.

~~

It took seven more visits for him to realise the two of you had had a special relationship. There was something about you that wedged its way into his mind. Usually because of a throw away comment that blew his mind. Such as the fact that there was a ‘plethora of afterlives’ as well as a ‘pantheon of Gods’. It was weird to have that confirmed. Every religion was based off truth and there were countless forgotten ones that would house the non believers, there were options for reincarnation and by fuck this was all bonkers.

The worst part, though, was that you were funny. He liked listening to you explain your world and he was in awe of your beauty. It hadn't gone unnoticed the first time he laid eyes on you but now he could really appreciate your ethereal splendour. Your eyes and lips had dark makeup that he wasn't sure was makeup - did a Reaper put make up on? - and you gave off an omnipotent air. But you were effortlessly funny, you always found a way to make him laugh and he prided himself on his gruff exterior.

“So who is really in charge then?” He had asked, walking next to you in a forest. Logan had found you stroking the neck of a deer, your face forlorn as he spied the shitty placement of the arrow. He hated hunters.

“In charge of what?” Your palms were folded in front of you, they were pitch black which faded at your wrist and blended into your natural skin tone.

“Out of the Gods.” He clarified. “Who do you work for?”

You turned in consideration and then replied with “I do not work for a God and there is no ‘in charge’.” You paused. “Plus a God can die but you can't kill Death.”

He chuckled, his brows shooting upwards. “Wow, so I'm hanging out with the big guns? With Death? I thought you were a Reaper.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I am a Reaper and I have taken Gods to their afterlives'.”

“No, there's a difference between ‘Death’ and ‘a Reaper’.” He argued.

“Would it make you feel differently if I told you I was Death?” He had the feeling the two of you had previously had this conversation, there was a pang of familiarity just out of reach.

“No.”

Your lip pulled. “Good.”

~~

“How can you spare all this time for me?” Logan was genuinely curious. You'd appeared to him as he finished up in the Danger Room.

“I am not alone in my job. There are others that help, Yama, Azrael, Thanatos.”

“Why do you spare all this time for me?” He kept his gaze solely on the cigar he held. Observing it between his fingers.

“I enjoy your company.” You simply stated. “There have been others that have healed, that have cheated Death but none like you. The whole idea of you used to irritate me, I believed it was a sick joke at first. That you were sent to vex me but I now think you are a blessing. As I said you named me, you gave me something that made me more than a Reaper. I am still impartial, if I am needed I will be there, but I now tend to stop and watch the sunrise merely because I... want to. You gave me that.”

What does one say to that? You openly admitted that he gave you freedoms in your dutiful life. Was what you had a life? Were you alive? “I think I could've come up with something better than Y/N.”

“No.” You adamantly shook your head. “Y/N is the kindest name I've had in a long time.”

He didn't know how to deal with your eyes. They were pure, affection radiated from them, he didn't deserve that level of affection from a being such as yourself.

If you were a girl in a bar he would've had you in bed by now but you weren't. You were different, he would always be with you in some respect because death was everywhere. He had to approach this differently. He had to befriend you first, which was terrifying as he had no experience with that.

He was open to the idea of getting you in bed, of course he was.

Look at you.

You were fucking beautiful.

And funny.

And scary.

And powerful.

Everything he liked in a woman, wrapped in a gorgeous skintight outfit.

When had he stopped seeing you as an acquaintance and started seeing you as a lover?

“Logan are you alright?” You quirked your head. “That wasn't weird to say was it?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It wasn't weird to say, sorry I just- glad I could help.”

He was fucked.

~~

Logan was being tortured by some shitheel of a Mutant. He didn't even know what the kid had against him but this was different. The kid had been brought in to keep Logan down. To force him to stay dead for as long as it took to take down the others.

Which would've been terrifying if not for: “Logan!”

He spun around, his body lighter than it had ever been, and saw you standing with a concerned expression.

The room he was currently in was still there but the features were blurred, out of focus. He could see the vague shape of his body at his feet but the only in focus objects were you and himself.

“Is this Limbo?”

“Yes.” You knelt to observe the body he couldn't see, your hands hovered at a respectable distance. “This isnt- you need to get back.”

Confused, he asked: “Wait, isn't this what you said we did?”

“Not like this. Not with you being forced-” You cut yourself off.

“So I'm finally here but it's not right?” He couldn't win with you. Wasn't this what you wanted? You'd mentioned the veil twice and that he ‘had passed it before’, he was interested to know what the big deal was and now being lectured. Fucking brilliant.

“Logan, it'll never be right for you to be here.” You stood to your full height, closer than you've ever allowed him to be. “A minute or two here and there in the past was-” He was staring intensely at you. “What?”

“I-I can feel your breath.” He never could out there. You were always there and not there. Half in the living world but never fully.

“Of course you can, you're in my domain. We can even touch in here.” To amplify your point your fingers caught his wrist.

Logan's eyes flickered to your hands and back to your face. Putting two and two together, “You liked us being here. Where we can touch. Did we ever…?” He left the question open ended but he needed to know.

Hesitantly you admit, “We've shared a kiss.”

“Why didn't you mention that?” That should've been the first fucking thing you told him. His strange teenage crush on you was immediately validated.

“You didn't remember, you might not have wanted us to.” You shrug one shoulder. “I am Death.”

Logan placed a palm on your cheek, thumb caressing the soft flesh, and the other on your hip. He could touch you here. Of course you liked it when he visited. Fuck he liked to visit.

Your eyes tried to remain on his but they kept landing on his lips.

He leant down, slow enough for you to pull back - although he'd bet money that you wouldn't - and just as his nose met yours he gasped awake on the floor.

“Fuck!” He growled.

“Tha’ no way to thank ‘he Gambit for saving yo’ ass.”

~~

The almost kiss was seared in his brain. The soft look on your face as your eyes fluttered shut and your lips ghosted his own.

He was angry at Gambit for a solid month which wasn't exactly fair and no one knew about you so it seemed worse but the anger was valid.

He had almost kissed you.

Logan made a point to jot down the name of that mutant - Ignatius Clartion - in case any future opportunity didn't naturally occur.

He could always try Rogue if not.

Look at him, looking for ways to kill himself for long enough to make out with Death.

Fuck this was weird.

But he wasn't above that.

What made this worse was that you had taken a longer hiatus than usual, so he was left to stew alone which resulted in him taking every mission he could. Logan threw himself into the fray with even less care than before. Even considered entering the fight rings he used to dominate in just for a few seconds passed the veil.

He knew he shouldn't. You might not be best pleased if he turned up from basically committing suicide just for a make out session. But it was tempting.

He started sleeping around less, he went weeks without a fuck and that was hard.

All for nothing because you were gone.

~~

“Logan.” Your voice roused him from slumber. “Logan.” He had to blink a few times before his eyes could fully open.

“Y/N.” He grumbled.

“What are you doing?” Your tone was accusatory. “You almost died from kidney failure and that is saying something.”

“Just a couple drinks.” He sat up and flicked the table lamp on. His room was a mess but he could blame that on the whiskey and if you happened to notice his naked chest then that was a bonus. He was so fucked.

“Don't do that again.” You ordered before taking a step back.

“Wait!” He stopped you vanishing just in time. “Are we not gonna even talk about last time?”

“You're right.” You nodded and worried your lip. “You were in a prolonged state of death and I took advantage, I'm sorry. I have tried to keep my distance, I didn't realise quite how inappropriate it was to-”

Logan's chuckle cut you off. “Hold up. I almost kissed you and you're apologising for it?”

“It was an abuse of power.” You inform.

“No, it was almost a really fun time.” He shuffled to the edge of the bed, setting the duvet aside and sitting in only his boxers. “I'm pissed it was cut short, how do I enter the veil correctly?”

Perplexity was splattered across your features. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. “Logan, you have to die. There is no correct way.”

“I can't die.” He offered.

“It wouldn't be right.” You argue.

He realised something, “Why can't I touch you?”

“I cannot touch anything. My touch corrupts, decays, withers.”

“I can't die.” He repeated.

“But you could live your eternal life in a state of paraplegia. My touch could cause the metal of your bones to poison you over time, your skeleton could get so heavy it breaks down, your skin could rot away and you'd live as a corpse.”

“Or my healing factor counteracts you.”

“You can only see me because you have died, even that is taboo, and here I am arguing with you about kissing. Logan it isn't the natural order of things. I shouldn't have admitted that to you. It was better when you couldn't remember me.”

“No.” He vowed, anger rising. “You can't decide that.”

Your shoulders sagged. “I'm trying to keep you safe.”

“Fuck that.” He made a fist in the centre of his chest and unsheathed his claws. He coughed up blood as your eyes bulged and suddenly the room was blurred. There was no longer the taste of iron in his mouth and he stood, immediately crossing the space between you and joining your lips.

You moaned against his tongue before remembering yourself and pulling away slightly - your foreheads still touching - “this is wrong.” You mutter as he chases your lips and once again the two of you are sharing breaths. His tongue glides against yours and you let out another moan, melting in his arms.

Logan breaks the kiss only to trail his lips downwards, leaving sloppy kisses against your jaw and nipping at your neck.

The breathy sigh you release is all he needs in life. He wants this every day. Needs it.

“Feels pretty right to me.” He licks a stripe up your neck and you are forced to agree.

His hands have been frantically grabbing whatever they could due to his need to memorise every part of you. The material of your bodysuit was soft and allowed him to knead your breasts and hips without a barrier.

Logan tried to reign in his frantic movements but as he felt the fierce woman become putty in his hands he couldn't help but tilt your head exposing more of your neck to bite at the tender flesh once, nipping softly around it and kissing the mark he made. He had to mark his territory.

These needs were new.

Never before had he wanted to claim someone. Wanted others to know.

But now...

Seeing you let him do whatever he wanted was stirring something dark within him.

You were literally more powerful than anything in this world, in the universe, and he wanted everyone to know - you were his.

Were you his?

You better be.

He wanted you to be.

How would that work?

Logan coughed awake and let out a frustrated growl.

“Don't vanish!” He yelled sitting up to see that you hadn't. You were still here which was a good sign. “Let me-”

“No.” You stopped him, “Don't do that again, I'll be here if you do die but don't commit suicide for me.” The words were undermined by your fingers touching your lips.

Logan's frown was so large that he could see it in his line of vision. He really wanted to fuck you.

“Please.” You add, stepping forward and actually sitting on the bed. Again there was a distance between the two of you but you were trying.

~~

The whole ‘don’t commit suicide’ thing was bullshit.

Logan had to be sneaky about finding his ways to see you.

You always greeted him with a warm embrace and a hot passionate kiss.

He hated waking up. Which a therapist would argue was not healthy at all but Logan did not give a fuck.

It was noticed by the X-Men that he seemed to have a death wish and he was even approached by Ororo and Jean one day about his mental health. He was thankful that his friends were so caring but the more questions they asked the harder it was to explain.

And so he dialled back.

He ensured when he could die it would be a longer death.

The frequency was less but the time was more. A better compromise.

You were on the battlefield collecting poor innocent civilians and hung around to talk to him. “I know that I can't die but is there any way you can control how long I die for?” It was becoming a running joke amongst the X-Men that Logan talked to the dead. He looked insane.

“I-I can't control that but I do have a certain skillset that I've been thinking of introducing to you.” You wring your hands. “I don't like the idea of it but at least you wouldn't be thrown back without warning.”

“Tell me.”

“Time isn't linear, I can distort it, I can make one minute here be as long as I want there. I could elongate the moment.”

The grin that split his face was infectious. You tried and failed not to look pleased. “Next time, do that.”

~~

The death was fairly ordinary. He was riding Scott's bike home when the front wheel hit a patch of ice and skidded, flinging the bike to the right. Logan landed with a harsh thud on his neck.

He'd never been so excited.

You made good on your promise and displayed your other power of teleportation. Bringing him to his room.

Now that there was time he was going to take as long as he wanted.

There would be no frantic rushing, no, he would spread you out and treat you how you deserved.

Fuck was he going to be your first?

Did beings like you even have the concept of virginity?

You stood awkwardly at his side, your inner debate plain to see.

“Y/N.” He brought you to the present, with a hand on your waist.

“Logan.” You responded by placing your palm on his chest.

“Have you ever?” He wiggles his brows.

You huffed. “You wouldn't know this because of how easy going and encouraging I have been but this is not a common occurrence.”

He liked your sarcasm but loved what you said. You were going to be all his.

There wouldn't be another.

You belonged to him. The two of you knew that.

Logan's right hand found your neck and he tilted you to meet your lips.

This was the first slow kiss between you. He pecked at your lips before sliding his tongue along them, you eagerly opened your mouth and he explored. This time was borrowed and he would gladly accept the cost if it meant he could keep giving you leisurely kisses.

Your fingers flexed against his chest as he kissed you, the slow rhythm drove you equally as wild.

Logan kissed your nose, he loved your nose, then your forehead.

You took advantage of this angle and placed a tentative peck against his exposed neck. You could feel him stiffen and worried he was angry but Logan asked you to do it again.

And so you firmly repeated the action, giving his jaw the same attention he gave yours.

Your tongue ran across the flesh and you could feel the prickle of his stubble.

All these new sensations were maddening. He sensed that you were excited and purposely rubbed the stubble on you causing a full body laugh.

“No!” You wriggled out from the tickly chin but his grip on you tightened. “That's not fair.” You giggled.

Logan adored the sound.

He was well and truly yours.

“I've just discovered the one way I'm superior to you, I am going to expose it.” He smirks down, tempted to tickle you again but holding back.

“If I knew that this was what you were planning I wouldn't have suggested to bend the rules. Maybe I should send you ba-” He cut you off with another kiss. You weren't serious in your words so allowed the interruption.

Logan trailed his fingers up and down your body, making you twitch again but with a new sensation. This was slightly tickly but the new heat in your abdomen override that and made your back arch. Pressed you into him.

A palm found your spine and pulled you closer before it migrated down to grab a handful of your ass. He kneaded the flesh, fingers lower than socially acceptable and they found themselves closer to your pussy than he had actually intended. Oh well, Logan made circles with his middle finger and found where he wanted to be.

The whole time his hand was exploring he was lazily kissing you only stopping once your mouth fell open and you mewed against his lips. Your face contorted in pleasure and he couldn't help but watch.

“I think we should get out of our clothes.” He spoke lowly, to not ruin your high.

Your eyes flickered open and you nodded once, extracting yourself and with a wave of your hand you were bare for him.

Logan ripped the leather jacket from his back and tore the shirt in one swift movement. Eyes not once straying from your form. Your hands were still dark and your face still had the make up on but otherwise you were bare and he was going to wank to this image for the rest of his life.

There was nothing that could make him forget you now. What had happened to make him forget you in the first place?

His belt and trousers fell and he stepped out of his boots, ready for you.

You weren't nervous but he could tell there were things that you were conscious about, having never done them before, so he promised he'd make this perfect.

“Let's sit.” He led you to the bed and sat with you. “Let me know if I'm doing anything wrong.”

“But I won't know.” You countered.

“If it hurts, it's wrong.” He concluded.

You nodded, biting your lip. “You'll do the same?”

He didn't embarrass you with the scoff that tried to claw its way out, merely giving you a nod.

Logan brought you to him again, kissing your neck. Sucking and nipping his way from your left ear to the right. He then journeyed downwards, his hands guiding your body to lay on the bed as he kissed his way to your core.

Logan spent extra attention on your chest, how could he not? Your breasts were glorious. He sucked one nipple as he squeezed the other and your body reacted naturally to the feelings.

He breathed in your scent, a low growl rumbling in his chest as it mixed with your slick.

Leaving your now marked tits he carried on down past your stomach and pubic bone to where he had longed to be. He parted your legs and drooled.

Your cunt was breathtaking. It was moist and free of any hair - not that he would care - and it just invited him in. It did feel naughty to defile such beauty but it was more of a crime to leave you without an orgasm or twenty.

“You ready baby?” He asked, simultaneously lowering himself and lifting your legs over his shoulders.

“Y-eah.” Your breath hitched.

Logan licked from your core to clit and you audibly gasped, hands clutching his hair.

“Sorry.” You detangled them.

“Put them back.” He ordered, “I wanna feel you. If I'm not doing what you want me to, make me.”

He knew he kept thinking it but he had never wanted anyone the way he wanted you.

It was intoxicating to know the two of you were so compatible. He was drunk on you and there was no AA that would be able to help.

Logan buried his face at your core, lapping up your slick. It was sweet. For someone whose touch could only decay you tasted like an angelic being.

He used a hand to spread your folds so he could get his tongue deeper, licking inside.

His hand ached to get closer to the action, finger playing with your core as he spun his tongue against your clit. He knew he would have to ease in, so he tried to slowly introduce his finger by running it across the hole, teasing you, making you want more as he did the same to your clit.

Your thighs were ridged against his ears in an attempt to clamp shut but he used his spare arm to hold one open, hand intertwining with one of yours.

The finger slipped in past the nail as he sucked your clit to distract you. You were dripping with slick so he met zero resistance but he didn't want you to feel any discomfort.

He came up for air - to watch your face - as he pumped the finger in and out, each time going deeper.

Your chest was rapid and he tried to not lose himself in the view but it was hard when your tits were right there.

Logan remembered himself and kissed your inner thigh, adding another finger. Your body shuddered with pleasure as his facial hair scratched your sensitive skin.

Logan was quite content with laying between your legs watching himself disappear in you but he had a job to do. He was going to make you cum, then he was going to do it again and again.

His lips met yours and he pulled his fingers from you to suck the juices. He would need this weekly. Monthly at a push. You tasted fucking perfect.

There was no-one that was better suited to him.

“I feel-I feel really hot.” You told him as he re-entered the fingers, adding a third.

“I'll take care of you.” He promised, quickening the pace.

It didn't take long before your moans increased and you were panting louder and louder before you let a breathy groan and came around his fingers.

He wasn't done with you though.

He kept pumping in and out, working you through the orgasm, forcing it to continue long after you began twitching and tugging his hair.

“It's too much.”

Logan hated those words but did concede, pulling out finally and pushing himself up your body. Your legs fell from his shoulders to his waist, his dick inches from you, he could feel the warmth.

“You okay?” He cupped your cheek with his dry hand.

You nodded, speaking out of breath, “It was really good.”

“Good?” He sassed.

“Really really good.” Your cheeks heated and you crossed your legs around his waist. It was an innocent move on your part to keep them from falling but he was drawn into you and brushed against you.

Your squeak and his growl harmonised.

“You want more?” He nuzzled your nose with his.

“I want more.”

He made you promise to tell him if it was too much before he gathered your slick with his head and rubbed it across his dick. He eased his way deeper in and your body went rigid.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Nodding earnestly. “Jus- just big.”

He did not even attempt to be bashful, instead basked in the compliment. “All yours.”

Logan managed to rock back and forth pushing himself further into your hot core and the two of you were in too much pleasure to speak.

Three thirds of the way there he could feel the most resistance but he played with your clit and kissed your neck, your breasts, your lips to distract you from any pain.

He took his time but finally he was sheathed. Logan gave you as much time as you needed, your brows pulled in pleasure.

“Open your eyes.” He begged.

Your lips were glistening, cheeks hot, eyes glazed. You looked truly fucked out and he hasn't been fucked you yet.

Logan kissed you and ever so slowly did his first full thrust, your lips parted in a silent ‘oh’ and he had to thrust again.

The ‘oh’ was not silent this time. With each thrust he sped up and suddenly the two of you were fucking.

Your string of somewhat lucid “oh, ohoh, oh, yes, fuck, Lo.” spurred him on. He would get you there as many times as you'd let him.

He flicked your nipple and you gave him a half-annoyed-half-horny look.

Logan bent to capture your lips and you eagerly met his, your hands - which had been clutching the slight in focus sheets - cradled his cheeks. Treating him with care that juxtaposed the way he was hammering into you.

The kiss ended with you gasping for breath when your second orgasm erupted, it was unexpected but he wouldn't moan.

Logan wanted to last longer he really did but the way your pussy clutched him, suffocated him, made that nearly impossible.

At least he had zero refractory period.

Logan came inside you, where it was warm and doughy, with a bite of your neck. He worked through his orgasm and finally halted his movements. He tried to keep his weight off you but you forced him down, forced him to hug you. Your lips kissing his temple as he caught his breath.

~~

The two of you were sitting on a park bench, people watching. This was quite possibly the longest time the two of you had spent together.

“Look.” Logan nodded towards a young girl that fell. She sniffled at the scraped knee but immediately stood and booted the soccer ball. “She’s got balls.”

“The human spirit is hard to break.” You comment, leaning your chin on a palm. “It’s commendable.”

Logan watched you out of the corner of his eye, again struck by your beauty. He could write essay after essay about you.

“Do you ever wish you were one?” The question fell from his lips before his brain could catch up. Was that rude? Nah, you’d know what he meant.

“Yes.” Your head swivelled to him. “I haven’t the need to eat or sleep, I’ve never been cut or sunburnt.”

“I think that’s sweet.” His lips upturned, tongue swiping across his teeth. “I could take you on a date if you wanted. I know you don’t need to eat but it couldn't hurt to taste something, right?”

“You’d look insane.” That wasn't a no.

“I'll put on an earpiece and pretend I'm on the phone.”

The shy smile you wore was endearing. “I’ve never been on a date.” You bit your lip. “It's a lovely idea but I'll have to decline. The food would probably rot in my mouth.”

“What about the cinema?”

Your eyes left him, landing back on the field, intently watching the humans interact mundanely. “I suppose it couldn't hurt. As long as no one touches me.”

“What if I kill myself and we can make out?”

You had to restrain yourself from slapping him.

~~

Storm knocked once and then proceeded to let herself into his room. “Logan I'm worried.”

“By all means, make yourself at home.” He snarked.

“You are worrying the team.” She ignored him and sat on his bed, plucked the book from his hands and gave him a look. “You're reading?”

“Was trying to.” He swiped at the book but Ororo kept it out of reach.

“Can you explain what's happening? You are talking to yourself, running headfirst into danger and I haven't seen you flirting, not even in jest!” She smoothed a wrinkle in his duvet. “Is there something I need to do? Someone I need to call?”

Logan had had this same talk time and time again. Perhaps he should just tell someone? Poor Rogue had even started to check up on him. He forced out a sigh and crossed his arms. “It's complicated.”

“We're mutants, everything is complicated.”

The two of them sat in silence for a while, merely staring at each other. How should he begin? What would she think? “I'm seeing Death.”

She nodded, “we all have to face death at one point in our lives. I know it's hard but there are people that can help.” Bless her.

Okay, maybe a different approach. “I've been seeing someone.”

Storm's brows met her hairline. “Yeah? This is why you've been worried about death?”

“No. It's- she's-” He rubbed his neck. “I can't die.” Storm frowned at the subject change. “I can't die and she is Death. I've been seeing Death.”

To her credit Storm's face stayed still, she had no judgement or ridicule or even disbelief but she didn't have acceptance either. “Is this a joke?”

“No.” He spoke with his hands. “I've been going insane because I love this woman and she's brilliant and funny and kind and gorgeous and generous. She is not a Grim Reaper, she is sweet, she is the cycle of life and death. It's fucking chaos. She's a literal God- no she's above them because even God's can die. Oh yeah, Storm there's Gods. Plural! And no one here can see her. I look insane because I can and to even touch her I have to be dead. Fuck, I need a fucking drink.”

Storm let the words settle in the air, taking everything he said in. “It doesn't sound overly healthy to get into a relationship where you have to die to hold the person.”

“Gambit and Rogue make it work.” He mused. “She's not a fan, either.”

“Logan, I'm going to need to process everything you've said and I will come back with questions.”

~~

The team were made aware of Logan's partner. It was mortifying but at least none of them could see how actually whipped he was with you.

If you could be perceived by them he'd be done for.

But he longed for it?

It was a strange realisation that now they knew about you he really craved to show you off, yet he was concerned that they'd know you were his weakness.

If you were human, the Brotherhood, AIM, HYDRA, ALKALI and whoever else would've killed you by now just to prove a point.

No, it was better to have you tucked away.

To keep you to himself, however selfish that was.

But it would be nice to have a photo of the two of you.

He had tried to convince you to enter a mall photo booth with him on your date. You adamantly refused because of the tight squeeze.

“I don't believe I'd show up anyway.” You waved him off. “But it was a nice idea, a very ‘couple’ thing to do.”

That prompted him to ask, “are we a couple?”

“Well, literally speaking we are a couple as we are two people but you don't mean that.” You sidestepped a group of teens. “I'd like to think you aren't just seeing me for my body, I know I'm not.”

“Not bending the rules for a good fuck?” That got him the dirtiest look from an old lady. “Sorry ma’am, Bluetooth.” He pointed to his ear.

“So does she decide when people die?” Jubilee questioned, lollypop in her mouth.

The team had taken to asking Logan anything they could about his ‘relationship’. He had answered the same questions again and again. It was boring.

“No, she just takes them to their destination.” He chewed some jerky. The two of them were sitting on one of the many sofas in Charles' mansion. On the floor in front of them, playing the Gamecube, sat Kurt and Kitty. “I think she knows when she's needed but doesn't do the killing?”

“That's trippy.” Kitty spoke without turning her head.

Logan huffed.

“Do you love her?” Kurt’s head swivelled to make lighting quick eye contact.

“Yeah.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Now can you all shuddup? I came here to drink and watch the game and you knuckleheads put a stop to that.”

“Well, they are playing a game.” Jubilee countered.

~~

Once more the two of you were sitting on a bench observing humankind. This time he had taken you to a museum. You told him about each era and how Vincent Van Gogh was hilariously funny, how Frida Kahlo hated socks, you even stated that you remembered a few of Leonardo’s ‘lovers’ as you passed a painting of Jesus.

“He doesn't look like that at all.” You scoffed at the painting. “It's a beautiful piece of art but that was Leo’s boyfriend.”

Logan had to keep his laughter low.

It wasn't until you both sat to take in an astonishing piece, almost the size of the entire wall, that a lady sat next to him. You had to slip off the bench to accommodate, which was something that you were used to so it didn't bother you.

She dropped her bag and a notepad, two tampons and a pencil fell. The pencil rolled over to his foot so Logan picked it up and handed it back to her.

“Sorry.” She pulled an embarrassed expression, stuffing the items back into her bag. “Not the first time I've made a complete ass of myself in front of a hot guy.”

“It's fine.” He shrugged, giving her a forced smile. “Could happen to anyone.”

“It's what I get for trying to be one of the greats.” She gestured to her notepad. “I can't help it, sometimes when I people watch I see the beauty that we have. It's like I have to try to emulate it, I have to at least do a sketch.”

He nodded along politely as she rambled on, pushing her glasses up her nose twice.

“It's a pleasant place to sketch, I guess.”

“Oh, it's brilliant.” She pointed subtly to the side. “Look there, those two on a date.” Logan followed her finger to see two boys looking at a bust, the shorter boy was bright pink and trying so hard not to smile whenever the taller looked over. The taller one took a quick photo of his partner stating that he was the ‘most perfect piece of art’. It was touchingly cheesy. “And there, they're having a hard time and that painting helps them. It provides comfort.” Logan followed again to see a person with short hair gazing longingly at a tiny painting. They had been standing there for a while, ignored by the masses, lost in thought.

“How do you know that?” He could see that she was right, without her words he would've thought that the person was merely looking at a painting but it made sense. Their shoulders had relaxed substantially, they were being comforted.

“Sit on the sidelines long enough, watch enough people, you get good at it.” She shrugged. “I'm Gladys. Before you say anything, it's an old name, yes I'm aware, it was my grandmother's.”

It felt passive aggressive not to say his, “Logan.”

She held out a hand and he shook it. “Nice to meet you!”

~~

“I've been thinking.” You spoke lying on the grass next to him. It was after midnight but the stars illuminated everything just enough to see.

“That's dangerous.” He joked, grinning wolfishly. He had you sitting on his face less than ten minutes ago and was still in a good mood. If only it was on this side, he ached to taste you on his tongue and smell you on his fingers alas the memory would have to suffice. He was fine with that.

“Har, har.” You rolled your eyes, facing the sky. “No, I've been thinking about what it is to be mortal.”

“Okay?” He kept his gaze on the side of your face.

“I don't think you're fulfilling your duty.” You were pointedly looking away from him.

“Huh? I don't have a duty?”

“Your duty is to live your life amongst your peers.”

“Is this abou-

“Is to not waste a day. To live life without regrets. To procreate, to have relationships with other humans, and to love and be loved.”

Logan propped himself up on his elbow, staring down at you. He forced eye contact. Shit. You were serious. “Okay, let's procreate.”

“Don't be stu-”

He lent closer to you than you'd allow. “You are the only one for me.”

You rolled out from under him, sitting up on your knees. “It's unnatural. I'm holding you back Logan.”

“We’ve had this conversation before. Why are we arguing again?” He was completely puzzled. Hadn't you both decided that this was okay? Why were you the one that got to tell him it wasn't? Why couldn't he have a say in this?

“I think we shouldn't see each other.”

“Fuck off.” He reached a hand out to hold yours, you snatched your wrist back.

“Logan!” You whisper-yelled.

“If this is about that lady at the museum, I don't know what to say. I was just being friendly.” Had he made an eternal being, an inevitable force, jealous?

“I just thought that that was a perfectly good way to meet your person. She was pleasant and confident. She should live a long life, she's a mutant so you have that in common.”

“You looked into her?”

“No,” You shook your head. “I can sense things. She had the smell of a mutant and her aura was blue so long life.”

Logan didn't know what else to do, he sat there scanning you.

He knew fundamentally that you were speaking logically. That you had always said this. Always said this was wrong. But it fucking sucked that you'd say it again when he decided to love you.

He didn't know when fondness became lust and eventually love but it had! He loved you.

He'd always love you.

And how exactly could he avoid you?

It was inevitable that he would die again and you would be there to guide him back into the land of the living.

You mumbled so low that even he almost didn't pick it up. “I've assigned you to Thanatos.”

“Unassign me.” He demanded, offended. “What was your game plan? Fuck me and dump me?”

“No.” You shook your head but he could see your internal debate. “I-I didn't intend-I just. I thought it was a good time to bring it up. You were relaxed. I thought you wouldn't mind.”

Oh. He was now fucking livid. “Wouldn't mind?!”

“Logan, you cannot possibly have a life with me.” You deflated, shoulders sagging. “It's not something I can have and you deserve more than scraps. You're worth more than that.”

The sniffle you let out completely floored him. He was no longer angry. He couldn't be.

You were upset.

You were crying!

He had never seen that.

“Cm’ere.” He waved you over.

To prove your point, “you can't hug me.”

Lightning quick Logan sliced his throat and the world blurred. “I don't care if you lecture me afterwards but come here.”

You fell into his embrace and sobbed quietly, Logan rubbed soft patterns into your back and kissed your head. He squeezed you tight and didn't intend to let go ever. He wouldn't. He would stay here forever if it was possible.

Eventually your shoulders ceased shaking and your breathing evened out. He almost interrupted the quiet until he noticed your closed eyes. You were asleep.

You never slept.

You didn't need to.

He tightened his hug and repeatedly kissed your forehead.

~~

When you woke he was watching you. He'd managed to carry you through the mansion and into his room without so much as a stir.

It was easier to make out this side when time was still. The blur was softer.

Logan played with your hair all night, keeping a watchful eye in case you needed anything.

“I love you.” It was a fact. The sky is blue, maths is hard, Logan loves Y/N. You were groggy from your first ever slumber but the words were sobering. He could see all of this in your eyes so continued, “I know it's unnatural, you're going to tell me off and I'm going to argue. That doesn't change the fact that I am in love with you. That I can't see myself with anyone else. You are it for me, baby.”

“I've never felt this way before.” You whisper. Again he almost missed it. “You make me want things I shouldn't. Sometimes I wish I was mortal and that's sacrilege, that's horrid, but it would be easier. We could be together. You've changed the way I see things, Logan, I will never be the same.”

“That sounds like goodbye.” His voice caught in his throat, so he cleared it.

“It should be but I'm not strong enough to do that whilst you're holding me.”

[shebeafancyflapjack]

hello hi and omg the Stockholm syndrome with calypso thing. I've never thought of it that way for some reason. woah do you have any other thoughts on that I'd love to hear!!

Hi!

Couple things; so this has been one of my favorite songs long before the saga came out as the demo out on YouTube was pretty much the full version. It's so beautiful and tragic, but I kept assuming that - given the sympathetic vibe of the song - Jorge was going to change this part of the story to make Calypso less of a villain.

Like my assumption was she wouldn't be the one keeping him trapped, it's just the curse of her island and even if she let him go he'd just come back or get hurt. So she's as much of a prisoner as him, basically. But also that it would be clear she didn't SA him as in the Odyssey. It would just be an innocent one sided infatuation that she would keep hoping he'd fall for her over time but wouldn't. So at first I assumed the "I love you" line would be like "I love you as a friend, I would have been alone and gone mad here for years without you, you gave me a bit of peace after all the trauma." Etc.

But then the Wisdom Saga came out...

And Love In Paradise definitely has SA and manipulation vibes. Rather than helping Ody heal in any way, he becomes even worse. Athena says outright "she's kept you trapped out of your control". There's no wriggle room for that. It's not just an innocent love. I would love to have confirmation from Jorge if this Calypso did force herself on him in any way as I think it would clear up things in the fandom.

So with that all in context, I can't hear the line as "I love you as a friend". It doesn't feel earned, we've not glimpsed anything from Calypso that would have Ody respect her that way. So for me it would be more affection born out of captivity and isolation and feeling sorry for your captor, but still wanting to get as far as fuck away from them.

It reminds me a lot of the real life kidnapping of Natasha Kampush whose book describing her ordeal where she was kept trapped underground for eight years is a chilling read. But it is a fascinating insight into what we think of as "Stockholm Syndrome" and how it's not like people imagine where they're brainwashed to be hopelessly devoted to them (and before anyone jumps down my throat, yes I know there's some debate over the name and having it be seen as a mental health condition when it's mostly just human empathy and survival tactic). Natasha's complex feelings towards her abuser and how media tried to romanticise it after her escape reminds me a lot of Odysseus and Calypso. She feared this man, he made her life a misery and treated her worse than a dog - but he was still the only company she had for eight years. There would be times when she felt fleeting moments of normalcy and affection, it's just human nature for that to create a bond. And she would grow sympathy for how messed up he clearly was, probably in much the same way Ody felt sympathy for Calypso being trapped alone.

Yes Calypso is a goddess but she feels the most human out of all the ones who appear in Epic, in the most messy way humans can be.

Hope I've explained that well. 😅

[crescenthistory]

Ok not a request but I loved the recent regulus fic with “where is she?”. I can just picture snape showing up in the infirmary the next day just fully bandaged and in casts all thanks to Barty and Evan

THANK YOU i really loved writing that one, hurt/comfort is my shit, especially with someone wound so tight like regulus. something about losing control you know?

and absolutely – as soon as you are out of the infirmary, your bed is taken over by snape for his egregious crime. as is the next one over by avery, for being involved in the situation. beside him is mulciber, for trying to protect his "friends", and any others who got in the way.

regulus is barty's oldest friend; any turmoil he feels must be avenged. reader is the one barty treasures perhaps most; any violence against them must be reciprocated. as for evan, he has that quiet, simmering, unwavering loyalty, both for reader and regulus, but of course, above all else, barty. even if he didn't particularly care for you, he would have followed barty on his almost-murder spree – but when you, someone who always holds space for him and understands him, is all but gutted on school property by buffoons? and not even with a purpose or methodology, just out of pure stupidity? he is not just supporting barty nor satiating some twisted fascination, he is revelling in the opportunity to protect you after-the-fact.

say what you want about those two, call them unhinged, maniacal, disturbing, but they are and will remain pack animals. they protect their own.

they do wait, though. not with the threats, nor possibly the restraining or light maiming of the offending parties, but with any level of repercussions that require immediate medical attention. because there is no way in hell they are going to let those sods near you anytime soon.

i also think you have to keep insisting and reminding them for the next foreseeable future that you did not die:

"when snape killed treasure" is a common point of reference for barty.

"i want nothing to do with that murderous bastard" "he didn't murder me, barty" "you don't know what you're talking about"

"i'm literally sitting here, breathing, right now" "i still hear her voice sometimes"

evan would always position himself between you and snape in a room, even if he genuinely never had anything against you specifically nor would risk the injuries himself

while you roll your eyes affectionately at their theatrics, it actually does unnerve regulus

he is still largely affected by the whole thing, the thought of losing you a sore topic (sorer than it already was, that is)

only when you give evan and barty a look before nodding inconspicuously at regulus do they quiet down

though they never truly let it go

barty would definitely reference your "death" in his best man speech at your wedding sorry

[marcyvampire]

hiiii back with more can you also do platonic yandere Scott summers x reader

LITTLE PEBBLE

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Scott Summers x Mutant!Reader. (Platonic Fic)

¿Request? Yes!

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ He found a little pebble, a trace of something that burned as intensely as she did. His desire to protect her had grown beyond reason. She was his only family now, a fire he needed to contain. But in his hands, even the pebble could ignite.

warnings ⸺ mdni! Dark themes, violence/death, blood, insolation, invasion of privacy, fire, kidnapping, delusion, Angst, murdering, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation. The reader is a teenager (17-18). Reader is like Flame Princess (AT), Human Torch (4F) etc.

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is— Honestly, I didn't have much idea on how to tackle this request at first because I was a bit lacking in inspiration. But then I got some good news, and while watching my favorite animated series, the idea of the fire mutation came to me. I hope it doesn't bother you; since you didn't ask for anything specific, unlike a previous request where someone wanted a mutation similar to Raven's, I decided to take a bit of creative freedom. I hope you like it!

Yandere Scott Summers who… worried upon seeing you that uneven night, just when he needed to calm his mind. Sometimes the stress of being the leader of the X-Men and the weight of protecting his friends became too much. The simple idea of going for a walk soothed him, but in that moment everything changed. He saw you walking alone under the dark sky, with an ignited fury in your eyes and that fiery orange and red hair. He watched you in silence, and something in you resonated with him. He couldn’t help the need to protect you, even though he barely knew you.

Yandere Scott Summers who… against his own instincts, decided to approach when he saw you on the road. You had dropped your backpack and upon seeing him, your expression hardened, and the air around you turned hot. The fire emerged from you, threatening to consume everything in an instant. And yet, he didn’t move. He observed the intensity with a disturbing fascination, as if in that blazing heat he found something only he could understand. It was the rain that intervened and made you retreat, temporarily extinguishing the flames and giving him the chance to extend a hand, gentle yet firm. “You can trust me. I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, not really expecting you to accept. But it was enough for you to lower your guard, if only for a moment.

Yandere Scott Summers who… took you to the X-Men mansion, aware that your stay could cause problems. However, he didn’t care. He was determined to help you find the peace he saw hidden beneath your fiery exterior. He knew you were dangerous, that you could cause a disaster at any moment, but he was convinced that you could be more, that you were not just a threat. So he took full responsibility for you in front of Professor X and the others, promising to take care of you.

Yandere Scott Summers who… even when you were hostile and avoided everyone, continued to visit you in the infirmary. He brought small colorful flowers every day, even though he knew you would burn them as soon as he handed them to you. He watched with a mix of pain and adoration as you destroyed those flowers without hesitation, as if in doing so you released a part of yourself. Yet, he never stopped bringing you a new one each morning. He saw beauty in your rage and discomfort, and deep in his mind, he wished that someday you would accept his company without fear.

Yandere Scott Summers who… slowly took you out of the infirmary, earning your trust with infinite patience. He showed you the gardens, knowing that you might burn a plant, but he didn’t judge you for it. Instead of worrying, he felt a deep devotion seeing you hesitate and hold back. He knew you were struggling, not just against your own power, but against the feeling that perhaps you would never fit in there. Scott admired that struggle in you, and every time he saw you silently looking at the horizon, feeling like you didn’t belong, his urge to protect you intensified even more.

Yandere Scott Summers who… stayed with you when you thought no one was watching, as you quietly questioned why the world saw you only as a threat. He listened to everything, and although his words were often few, each one was filled with unwavering devotion. “You are more than you think,” he told you, and although you found it hard to accept, his words lingered in your mind.

Yandere Scott Summers who… cannot stand seeing you isolated, burning small branches or flowers at the edges of the garden to release tension. He knows it’s a part of you that no one else understands, but he does. And every spark, every little flame is, for him, proof of your strength. For him, those moments are a confirmation that, no matter what happens, his purpose is to protect you, care for you, and ensure that you never have to defend yourself alone again.

Yandere Scott Summers who… accompanied you every day at lunchtime, making sure you were comfortable and had something you could eat without burning yourself. He knew your emotions could spiral out of control at any moment and, with them, your blazing heat. So he prepared, offering you small bites patiently, pulling his hands away when he saw the flames intensifying on your fingers and returning to try again just seconds later. “You don’t have to worry; I’ll take care of this,” he told you, with a firm yet gentle look. He knew he wasn’t just giving you food; he was giving you a reason to trust him and only him.

Yandere Scott Summers who… spent countless nights making sure you didn’t destroy your room. He stayed awake outside your door, watching every spark, every fire that broke out. He had filled your room with special materials resistant to heat, and he himself set up a suppression system to prevent the fire from spreading too far. However, it was him you turned to when you couldn’t take it anymore and the flames escaped your control. He held you while your energy overflowed, not telling anyone that his own hands suffered small burns each time. “I’m here,” he whispered, holding you with protective firmness. “I won’t leave you. Never.”

Yandere Scott Summers who… gradually began to treat you as if you were his only family, beyond the X-Men and beyond any mission or duty. His teammates began to notice, especially Jean and Logan, who reminded him that he needed distance, but he ignored them. For him, protecting you was his most important mission. Even if it meant putting aside his other responsibilities, he didn’t care. He was willing to put anyone aside to dedicate every second of his time to you, convinced that no one could take care of you as well as he could. Jean tried to confront him: “Scott, you need to set boundaries. You’re losing your balance…” But he looked at her, with a coldness in his eyes that even she didn’t recognize. “Jean, no one else understands. She needs me more than you think.”

Yandere Scott Summers who… took you to quiet places, away from the gazes of others. Sometimes he convinced you to stroll through the woods, places where he allowed you to release some of your fire without worries. He silently watched as you burned branches or weeds, and he stayed close, making sure there was no danger, that no one else was around to judge you. In those moments, he would come closer and speak to you softly. “Here you can be yourself. You don’t need to hold back.” And although you didn’t always respond to him, he knew you understood, and those small flashes of connection were enough for him.

Yandere Scott Summers who… could barely contain his emotion when he saw you in action on your first mission. He had spent months preparing you, training you in controlling your powers, and finally the day came when everyone would see what he already knew: that you were incredibly powerful and deserving of respect. He watched you from afar, hidden behind his visor, seeing how you handled your flames with precision and poise, confronting enemies without hesitation. Every movement of yours filled him with pride, and when the mission ended, he ran to your side, smiling in a way that was unusual for him. “You did amazing! you’re perfect,” he whispered, keeping his hand on your shoulder and almost ignoring everyone else, as if you were the only thing that mattered.

Yandere Scott Summers who… immediately felt a pang of jealousy when Jean, Logan, and Ororo also came over to congratulate you. Ororo gave you a warm smile, telling you how impressive it was to see your control and skill, while Jean took your hands and told you that you were progressing quickly, with Logan looking at you with respect, something that wasn’t common for him. Scott tensed, his hands clenching into fists as he watched them praise you. He knew they were just acknowledging you, but seeing others give you their attention in such a close and personal way drove him irrational. Jean shot him a knowing look, but Scott avoided her gaze, murmuring, “They can leave her alone; she’s exhausted. She doesn’t need your approval.” He couldn’t help his voice from turning cold. To him, there was no one more suited to accompany you than himself.

Yandere Scott Summers who… silently went mad upon learning that you had had your first sleepover with Jubilee, Kitty, and other young X-Men without him. He had wanted to be part of everything in your life, but the girls had kept him at bay. They knew he could overprotect you to an uncomfortable point and wanted to give you a normal experience, without Scott hovering over you every second. Even more, they wanted to avoid you getting upset and bursting into flames. He spent the night wandering the hallway outside your room, hearing muffled laughter and feeling a deep frustration. He wanted to go in, make sure you were okay, and that no one affected you, but he held back, teeth clenched. To him, there was no reason he shouldn’t be part of everything you did. After all, only he understood the importance of being by your side at every moment.

Yandere Scott Summers who… lost his patience when he found out you had gone to the arcade with Jubilee and other young X-Men. He was in the middle of a meeting when he heard the news, and without thinking twice, he left everything to go look for you. Logan was the one who blocked his way, standing in front of the door with his characteristic disdain. “Let her be, Summers. She needs her space,” Logan murmured with a mocking tone, giving him a challenging look. “Do you know what could happen if something goes wrong?!” Scott replied, his eyes fixed on Logan, unable to comprehend why anyone else thought they had the right to decide about you. Logan shook his head, his patience wearing thin: “What could happen is that she learns to live without you glued to her like a leech.” Scott felt a mix of anger and vulnerability that baffled him, but ultimately, he took a step back. However, he spent the rest of the night restless, only thinking about you, about how happy you could be without him there to take care of every detail.

Yandere Scott Summers who… secretly suffered as he watched you start to get along with the other X-Men. As your control over your powers improved, you became more confident and integrated into the community, talking and laughing with others, sharing moments you had only shared with him before. There was one student in particular, Sam Guthrie, also known as Cannonball, who sent you notes and letters expressing his admiration. He gave you small shiny stones he found, telling you they reminded him of the color of your eyes when you were calm. Scott found those details, and every time he saw one of those stones, he felt a wave of irrational anger. One afternoon, he approached you with tense calmness. “You don’t need his gifts; you know I’m here to give you everything you need,” he murmured, his gaze dark while holding the stone in his hands. He didn’t want to admit he was jealous, but his words and the rigidity in his face told you everything.

Yandere Scott Summers who… lost control when you told him you were considering going to Genosha with Sam and other young mutants. It was a decision driven by your desire to explore and experience life away from the mansion, and besides, Sam had insisted on accompanying you, assuring you that you would be safe with him. The night you mentioned it to Scott, he simply exploded. “Genosha? With Sam?!” he shouted, with an intensity you had never seen in him before. His face was marked by a mix of disbelief and desperation. “Do you think someone like him can protect you? That you can trust someone who barely knows your true needs?” he said. “Scott, you can’t control everything I do,” you replied, trying to remain calm, although his reaction made you doubt. “You don’t understand!” he continued, raising his voice. “Do you think anyone else will be willing to do what I do for you? I’m the only one who truly understands how dangerous you are and what you need to be okay!” His words hurt you, but they also revealed the intensity of his feelings, leading you to see a side of him you hadn’t noticed before. In his desperation, he had lost sight of your own autonomy, and for a moment, you realized that Scott was not willing to let you go.

Yandere Scott Summers who… felt his world collapse when he understood that your desire for independence could separate you. The idea of losing you, of someone else being your protector and making you feel safe, consumed him. So, in a moment of desperation, he made a drastic decision. He decided that the best thing was to remove you from everyone, even from yourself, so that you would never feel the need to seek the company of others.

Yandere Scott Summers who… prepared a chilling plan. On a dark night, he set fire to part of the mansion. Screams, sirens, and smoke filled the air, and as everyone else struggled to escape, he approached you and took your hand. “We have to go, quickly, now” he said, his voice intense and urgent.

Yandere Scott Summers who… upon reaching the exit, a twist of fate changed everything. With a simple gesture, he made everyone believe you had died in the fire. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for your “sake.” The shock, the despair of the others, was a spectacle he watched from a distance, his heart pounding as he made sure no one suspected his role in all this.

Yandere Scott Summers who… took you to an isolated house in the woods, away from the mansion and any other X-Men who might look for you. There, he placed a collar on you that inhibited your powers. He knew that without it, you could hurt yourself or damage anything around you. “It’s for your safety,” he said, looking at you with a mix of tenderness and madness in his eyes. “I’ll never hurt you again, and no one will be able to. Here, you are safe.”

Yandere Scott Summers who… began to treat you like a child, controlling every aspect of your life. He fed you by hand, offering you small portions of food he prepared carefully, making sure everything was to his liking. “You have to eat to stay strong,” he repeated, watching you chew slowly; after all, you couldn’t refuse him, or you would regret it. He delighted in every bite you gave him the chance to offer, watching how you got used to his care.

Yandere Scott Summers who… chose your clothes with unsettling precision. He made sure they were comfortable yet modest, reflecting the image he wanted you to project. Everything, from colors to styles, was carefully planned to keep you within the limits he had set. “You don’t need to worry about anything else,” he insisted while dressing you. “Here, all that matters is you and me.” The house became your gilded prison, a place where everything seemed comfortable but was nothing more than a trap. The windows were sealed, and every time you tried to leave, he stopped you with a cold look. “You don’t understand the danger out there,” he repeated, increasingly anxious, as if every word was a warning. “I can’t let you go.”

Yandere Scott Summers who… spent hours with you, playing board games, reading books, doing anything that reminded him of a warm home, and always, always, watching you. However, every time you tried to ask a question about your previous life, his gaze would darken. “Let’s not talk about that. You’re happier here, I promise,” he would say, almost pleading with you. He refused to allow you to talk about the X-Men or any friends you might have had.

Yandere Scott Summers who… every time he saw you frustrated, igniting your inner fire, took it as a challenge to his authority. “You must control yourself,” he insisted, coming closer to you with a terrifying intensity, his eyes shining with a mixture of concern and possessiveness. “If you can’t control it, then you can’t go out.” And although he said it in a soft tone, there was a latent threat in his voice that made everything even more unsettling. The situation began to take a dark turn when you realized there was no way to escape, that Scott had made drastic decisions to ensure you never had the chance to return to your old life. You began to feel desperation and frustration building inside you, and every time you tried to scream or release your anger, he looked at you with a sadness that only reinforced his control.

Yandere Scott Summers who… one night, while you were silently crying, approached you and held you in his arms, but his hugs were filled with barely contained madness. “Don’t worry, my little pebble. Everything will be okay; you just have to trust me,” he said, in a voice so soft it felt like a disguised threat. “I will protect you from anything that wants to hurt you.” The atmosphere became oppressive, and the house turned into a prison, with Scott as the dark guardian who had decided your life would be his and no one else’s. He fed off your suffering, convinced that every tear was a sign of love and need for him.

Yandere Scott Summers who... One night, while you were alone in the room, you decided you could no longer bear it. With a heart-wrenching scream, you tried to use your power, but the collar prevented you. He appeared, his eyes burning with fury and pain, and although he approached to calm you, it was evident that the situation had reached a point of no return. “You are mine,” he said, his voice trembling between sadness and possessiveness, and at that moment, you realized that the only way to escape his control would come at a price you were not willing to pay. So, in one last attempt to free yourself, you began to fight, knowing that if you didn’t do something now, you would never do it. But in his mind, as chaos erupted, Scott believed he was doing the right thing. To him, you only existed, and he could never let you go.

A/N ─── Another one of the overdue requests; I think there's only one left! (The one for Kurt... and honestly, I still have no idea how to approach it, but we’ll get there eventually). I'm really sorry for the delay, but here it is at last. Thank you for your patience and support; it means a lot.

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

take a bath!

[satureja13]

Kiyoshi figured out the Sickbay and called Ji Ho in to find a cure for his travel sickness. They were just starting with some tests and it isn't necessary for Vlad to be here. But they couldn't bring him to leave Ji Ho. So vulnerable and exposed to Kiyoshi and Jeb.

Since Jeb is a healer too, and designated as engineer, he joined them to operate the unknown devices. The Bond was raging and Ji Ho shot glances over to Vlad. Trying to reassure him over their connection.

But Vlad couldn't be calmed, he can't even look at Ji Ho. Even though he knows there is never anything going to happen between them. Does he, though? He'll never forget how wildly fascinated Ji Ho was by Kiyoshi in the beginning. And the glances he often shares with Jeb... And Vlad also didn't forget how intimate Jeb and Ji Ho had been when Jeb entered Ji Ho with his magic to find out more about that spell. So Ji Ho just hoped this would be over soon. He planned to spend some couple time with Vlad later. To show him he's his and his alone.

Meanwhile at the Bridge. Jack and Sai are on duty. (And the bots seem to plot something down in the engine room? ö.Ö') Sai completely snapped out after Jeb's revelations and is getting lost in his books. Not willing to think about his crooked real life... He lately discovered the stories from Cora Rose and he got addicted. At least the MC's in the books are able to overcome their hardships and have a happy ever after together. And he can feel the love between the characters. Ah, dammit. Now he cries again... He loves Jeb more than anything. Why can't they just be happy together, woohooing themselves into oblivion? Why???

Jack is worried about his oldest friend. Usually Sai explodes, gets angry, screams, chases him until he's breathless and his anger eventually subsides. He can't stand seeing him so broken, sad and hopeless. Sai doesn't even want to talk about it. As soon as Jack scratches the topic, Sai just furtively wipes his eyes and says he's going to be fine, putting his nose in his book again... Lifting it up to his face so Jack doesn't see the tears rolling down his cheeks.

After their appointment in the Sickbay, Vlad and Ji Ho picked up their belongings from the cargo bay. Including their meteorites. Just to find out that they started to glow. But not like before at the Invisible Farm. It's different. They used these meteorites to teleport and they even opened portals to the otherworld. So the fear arises they would suddenly bring them somewhere else ö.ö Vlad: "There's never time to breathe, is there?" Ji Ho: "Let's bring them to the lab. Jeb and Jack could build a container or something. To keep them from - eh ... whatever they are doing right now."

Ji Ho was just about to ask Vlad on a date after they got rid of the meteorites, when Sai entered their quarters. His eyes still wet - but smiling manically... Sai: "Mind if I crash here? I... I can't ... And I don't want to... You know?" They know Sai and Jeb well enough and of course they know what happened, even if they don't know what Sai exactly was babbling about. So Vlad just said: "Eh - sure."

Ji Ho: "I'll care for him and you get those meteorites locked away?" Vlad sighed and just said: "Sure." Sai, in fake cheerfulness: "Don't mind me. I'm fine." That was it with their date. But of course they won't leave Sai alone in his misery. Ji Ho: "I'll make it up to you." And Vlad got a little nervous about the prospect.

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[val3ntina-she]

Class 1-A react to new student with neko quirk

Based on: Izuku Midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, Ejiro Kirishima, Fumikage Tokoyami and Hitoshi Shinsou

Izuku Midoriya

♡ It was the first time you joined U.A in his class. You could tell he was fascinated by your cat quirk

♡ Every student was shocked by your appearance and some of them loved you (except Bakugou)

♡ Midoriya wanted to know what else you could do as a cat and you could say that a strong bond was building between you

"You're so sweet Midoriya-kun! Thank you for taking the time to show me around this school!"

♡ He'll turn red or worse his face will burn when you thank him and what's more you kissed him on the cheek

Shoto Todoroki

♡ You could say that at first he was skeptical around you and your quirk since he said he didn't want to be friends with anyone and just want to be a hero

♡ But you really liked his two-colored hair and eyes. However, you wondered where he got the scar on his left eye from

"Hey Shoto, where did you get that scar on your eye?"

♡ He froze when he heard that because he didn't want to tell you what happened in his childhood and how it even happened because he knew you would judge him by where he got it from

♡ But it could be considered cute, which made Shoto feel like he was on fire the entire lesson and his classmates didn't know why

Ejiro Kirishima

♡ He was fascinated by you when he first met you when you walked into his class. He thought it was super manly having a cat quirk

♡ You immediately got on well with each other and even exchanged numbers with him, because it would be nice to chat with someone from a distance

"You're Kirishima, right? I like your hair, so cool and red, because that's my favorite color. The only thing is that my little sister has a similar quirk to yours"

♡ He was shocked that someone had a similar quirk to him and he would definitely like your younger one. Maybe introduce her to him someday when you get to know each other better

Fumikage Tokoyami

♡ The only thing this bird boy likes is the dark, but when you entered the classroom, he froze when he saw the first person with a cat quirk

♡ He was careful, but the only one he was afraid of was Dark Shadow, because he is a shadow bird and you are a cat

♡ Tokoyami immediately caught your attention, so you approached him and Dark Shadow, as usual, hid behind him, scared

"Wow.. I like your quirk! I have a feeling about birds, don't I? Don't worry, I won't eat you! The only thing I like is milk and I don't eat animals, so your friend doesn't have to be afraid"

♡ Until you finally started getting along and Dark Shadow breathed a sigh of relief that you wouldn't be his snack

Hitoshi Shinsou

♡ When you first walked in he felt like his heart was going to explode seeing that you had a cat quirk

♡ You smiled at him when you noticed him and waved at him

"Your quirk is brainwashing, right? It's so cool and I'm sure you'll be an incredible hero in the world and convince people that it's not that bad!"

♡ He was immediately convinced that you didn't think he was weird because of his weirdness and he really liked you

[oliviasthatgirl]

Bed Chem - C.S + Reader (Pt.1)

~• This is my first fan-fic writing ever, so its not gonna be perfect. I'm gonna try my best, bear with me lol. This is gonna be fluff and then go to smut later on throughout this series of short stories. They might come late because of school, but ill try to be frequent. This is based off of Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter!✨❤

[ Warnings!!! - This contains Fluff to Smut later on. Contains a little Language. This is an 18+ story! Names used: Princess, Daddy, and a few other things if I missed them. Contains: Fingering, Daddy kink, and other small things like that. Uses (y/n) ]

~• There may be a few Spelling and Grammar Errors as well as Repetition, but I'm gonna try my best to avoid that stuff.

Enjoy Girly's!✨

-----------------------------•~Bed Chem~•--------------------------------

You and Nick have been best friends since high school. Ever since you moved to Boston, and that first day at school, you two bonded immediately.

You found it fascinating that he and his brothers were triplets, but you never really were attracted to any of them. And Nick was gay so it only left you to Matt and Chris, if you wanted.

================================================

One day Nick texted you asking if you wanted to come hang out at his house. Of course you wanted to, you hadn't been doing anything that productive today and was infact bored. You texted him and stood up off your bed.

" What to wear, what to wear? " I tapped my chin. I look through my closet. I'll just settle for comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. The cute shorts were light blue with a white graffic T. I slip on my Uggs and head to the kitchen. I rummage through the cabinets looking for my Stanley. I take it down and walk to the fridge. I fill up my Stanley and grab the car keys of the counter.

I was eager to go to Nicks house, I haven't seen him all week. I also thought about how his brothers were gonna be there. I didn't know them as well as I did Nick, and hoped to get to know them better.

The drive comes to an end when you enter the driveway of the Triplets house. I park the car and get out. I walk up to the door anxiously. I ring the doorbell. After a few seconds I hear steps approaching the door. Nick opens it.

Nick - " Hey (y/n)! Come in. "

(Y/n) - " Hey Nick, its so good to see you, I've missed you so much. "

Nick - " Me too, come sit on the couch so we can chat. "

He leads you over to the couch and you both sit down on the plush sofa. You look around the room. New pictures and decor fill the surrounding walls. The room feels lively and peaceful, like the perfect place to sit and chat.

(Y/n) - " This place looks nice, have you done more Home Improvement? "

Nick - " Yeah we did, Matt and Chris actually helped with most of it. "

(Y/n) - " Well, it looks really good. I can tell a lot of time and money has been spent on keeping It looking nice. "

A hour of catch up chat occurs. You and Nick catching up with each other in person. When the idea of you spending the night pops into his head.

Nick - " What do you think about spending the night? The sounds fun right? "

(Y/n) - " Yeah, that sounds fun! "

______________________________________________________________

It got late quick, and you end up settling in the guest bedroom. You hear the front door open and Chris and Matt walk in chatting kind of loudly. They had been hanging out with Nathan all day and just got home.

Chris - " He kept bitching to me about how bad I was, and that he is better, but he wasn't I literally 1v1'd him crazy. I coulda done it with my eyes closed. "

Matt - " Don't get too cocky Chris, he beat you more in the game than you shoulda allowed. "

Nick walks out of his room to the front door living room space where his brothers were loudly arguing about a Fortnite battle they just had. He glares at his brothers.

Nick - " Can you guys stop yelling and please shut the fuck up. (Y/n) is spending that night here, and you two storm in bitching and yelling and you woke me up, imagine her right now. "

I throw the sheet to the side and lift myself up. My legs go over the side of the bed and arise to a stand. I walk towards the door and softly open it. I walk to where the commotion is.

As you walk up, Chris immediately shuts up and looks at you. He looked at your body and face. You looked so attractive in that moment. Your hair slightly messy and clothes ruffled. His mind wandered, but he kept himself in line.

You noticed the way he looked at you and you got a little obsessed. The way he admired your body and features made you feel some sort of way you hadn't felt with other people.

Chris was wearing a white jacket with a matching white beanie. He looked hot. You didn't know him well, but damn, he was hot. You and Chris got a little too distracted looking at each other, that you didn't realize Nick and Matt trying to snap you both out of this love like trance you were both in.

Nick - " Chris, (Y/n), hello? Get a room already! Chris is drooling over you. "

You turn and look at Nick, breaking the eye contact with Chris.

(Y/n) - " My bad, Imma go back to bed. "

You turn and walk back to the guest room, still not taking your mind off of the moment you just had with Chris. It was strange, you didn't know him, but you felt like you did. You felt like you knew him your whole life and were very similar.

I get into bed and lay down, drifting to sleep once again.

In the middle of the night you get up to go get some water, expecting everyone to be asleep.

The room was dark, so I just instinctively went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. I backed up to turn and walk back to my room, but bumped into something. Not something, someone.

I jump slightly in shock and gasp. I turn and see Chris standing there smirking down at me.

Chris - " Hey princess, getting water to hydrate those pretty lips? I could hydrate them another way, just saying. "

He bends down to get eye level with you. He leans closer to your face. You can feel his warm breath on your collarbone and face. He leans into your ear.

Chris - " I could tell you, or I could show you, in my bed. "

He said that romantically, but kind of mysterious. You wanted to know what he was gonna do, but he was also looking very attractive tonight so you gave in.

Chris - " I knew you'd give in to me, no one can resist me. "

I look over at him. His veiny arms were looking extra fine tonight. The shadows of light illustrating the details on his arm. I could also see his muscle flexing and I couldn't tell if he was doing that on purpose or not.

He opens the door and closes and locks it. He turns and looks at me. I know what it means, I know what he wants.

(Y/n) - " You know if you wanted me this bad you could of asked. "

He doesn't say anything, instead he walks across the room to me in a few quick strides and picks me up with ease. He walk me over to his bed and throws me down but not hard.

Deep down you loved how he did this to you, he didn't hurt you, but he was rough with you. You admired him for this.

Chris - " Listen princess, I'm gonna make you feel good. I can feel chemistry between us, be freaky with me. Match my freak. I'll make you feel feelings you never have ever. Don't be nervous. You look gorgeous! "

He wastes no time and pulls down your shorts. He lifts your hips and fully takes off the shorts. He grins down at the warm spot in between your thighs. He slowly and agonizingly runs his fingers down your thighs. You feel the pressure and pleasure slowly build up.

You want his touch, you both know that. He runs his fingers over your clothed cunt. You wet more at the feeling of this.

(Y/n) - " Ple, Please Chris. Touch me. "

Chris - " Beg for it, and call me something other than Chris. Call me daddy, yes. Beg for daddy to touch you. Use your words. "

(Y/n) - " Please, please, please, touch me daddy. I'm gonna cum soon. Put your fingers inside me. "

You feel a knot in your stomach ready to be released. You are in the middle of an orgasm. You don't crave anything other than touch now. Specifically Chris's touch.

Chris - " Good girl, I like when you beg for me like that. "

He runs his fingers over your thighs and pulls your thong to the side. He rubs your swollen bud before putting a finger inside. Slowly back in forth before he adds a finger.

(Y/n) - " Yess, daddy that feels so good. I'm so close. "

You hold back a moan as Chris goes faster. As he goes in and out, you get more and more wetter riding out your orgasm. You are so close. The knot slowly releases. You cum all over his fingers.

Chris - " Good girl. You were very tight and nice for daddy. "

He licks your sweet juices off his fingers and grins down at you.

You both get a little tired and decide to go to sleep.

He turns you around and you both lay on your backs. You both fall asleep in each others arms.

______________________________________________________________

~• Hope you enjoyed!

~• Pt.2 will be coming soon! This story isn't that good and may be a little cringy, but after all this is my first fan-fic, and it is a SERIES so it will hopefully progress and get better down the line. I hope you enjoyed it. I tried to do a long story but not too long. Tell me if I should write longer stories. Requests are open!

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Let me know if you wanna be tagged for Pt.2!