#he would have died for saying no. horrific

[spermeboy]

MISTER POPULAR.

pairings: fiyero tigelaar x male reader

summary: a love story blooms when fiyero does a simple act of kindness by helping a fellow peer out.

requested by: me ;)

word count: 1,618

mentions: strangers to friends, flirting.

He was the most sought-after guy at Shiz University. He had practically all the girls all over him aswell as the majority of the guys, whether they would willingly admit it or not. Because of his popularity status and your lack of time, he never really noticed you or even looked your way...atleast that is what you thought. You hadn't said one word to him during your first semester at Shiz but you had completely fallen head over hills for him, and you were now too far gone. So what if he was completely full of himself and possibly a bit of a snob? You could tell it was all just an act, but somehow no one else could cause they weren't looking at him for who he was they were looking at him for how he presented himself.

You were running through the Shiz University halls one fateful day as you woke up late, completely sleeping through your personalised ozian alarm clock. You are speeding through until you trip on someone's banana peel skidding across the floor and all your textbooks going flying. You swiftly get up off your face, and you begin picking up all of your books, praying that no one had seen this horrifically embarrassing moment. In the corner of your eye, you see someone strut over and kneel down to give you their hand as you manage to gather all of your textbooks off the floor. You take the kind gentlemen hand and you look up to thank him until you turn a bright shade of red when your eyes meet with Fiyero's.

"F-Fiy..." You try to stutter out, but his name won't leave your mouth. He shakes your hand. "Fiyero Tigelaar," he says confidently as he takes some of the textbooks from your grasp, "you do know we don't have class today.. right?" He says softly as he begins walking back to the dorm area of Shiz. You immediately begin following next to him, practically lost for words that he would even look your way, let alone help you out. He stops outside your dorm room and turns around to face you, "keys?" He asks in a soft tone your eyes meet with his for a moment until you break the gaze and hand him the keys. "Wait... how did you know -" You begin talking for a moment before Fiyero cuts you off, walking inside your bedroom and dropping your books down on your desk, causing a big thud.

This was just the beginning for you both. Over the course of a couple of weeks, Fiyero began to capture little cute moments of you with his Shiz camera that he stole from the photography section of the Univeristy. He still hadn't caught on to the fact that you were in love with him. You tried not to focus on how you felt about him cause simply that this was just enough. His acknowledging you was everything you ever needed. He had a surprise for you that had your stomach in knots thinking about what it could entail. He had his thick veiny hands on your shoulders as he had you blindfolded walking through some sort of grassy area. You could tell by the feeling of the tall grass against your legs.

The feeling of the grass against your legs stopped as you step forward once more, "are you ready" he whispers in your ear feeling his hot breath against your ear made your body shudder beneath his touch, he doesn't understand what he does to you. "I-Im ready," you stutter out nervously as Fiyero practically pulls you down onto some sort of velvety blanket. Light blesses your eyes as he unties the blindfold once it's finally dropped off your face. The first thing to grace your sight is Fiyero..his beautiful blue orbs, the ones that captured you originally were staring right into yours. A small smile on his face as he pulled away from your face, revealing a picnic he had set up for you, away from Shiz University.

Your eyes fill up with tears, and Fiyero immediately leans over the food to get closer to comfort you, "d-did I do something wrong?" He says in a worried tone, but you just laugh through your tears, shaking your head. "No! Not at all, just... no one has ever made me feel like this before." You stutter out as Fiyero's smile brightens you up again as he gently rubs your shoulder sitting down properly again. "I like this spot...it's so quiet and away," Fiyero says in a soft tone as he takes a strawberry and bites it. He looks out into the beautiful corn field ahead of us seeing the Scarecrow that watches over the crops. He brings the half eaten strawberry to your lips. "Take a bite," he says in a soft, quiet tone.

You lean forward slightly, taking a bite out of the same strawberry he has been eating, the mixture of the strawberry with a small portion of his spit was to die for. This is the closest you'll get to kissing him is what ran through your mind, the closest you'll get to tasting him. You swallow the strawberry after savouring the flavour for a strange amount of time but not enough for it to cause Fiyero to become concerned. He watches the way your face fills with pleasure as you swallow the strawberry. He softly nibbles his lip, watching you. You both ate like kings and packed up everything, "sad this is over," you say to him as you turn to face Fiyero. He turns his head slightly to look down, "Don't worry... who says I'm not planning another picnic as we speak." He says as confidence practically drips off him.

You begin walking through the tall, tall grass, feeling it brush against you both. The sun shines on you both perfectly as you stop to face it, this is the moments that are in all those romantic books you read. Golden hour covering your faces, amongst nature and a gentle breeze blowing your hair perfectly. You both lock eyes and Fiyero subconsciously puts his picnic basket on the floor without breaking the eye contact, the tension between you both would be able to be cut with a knife. Fiyero's hands connect to your cheeks as his thumb rubs your smooth supple skin he leans down slightly and connects your lips together.

The world was spinning, all the stars has aligned. You had never felt his fire inside of you before as Fiyero's lips connected to yours, you get up on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck pulling his lips closer to yours. Your bodies pressing against one another, the kiss passionate and beautiful. Fiyero pulls away softly to meet your gaze as a strip of spit still connects your lips, a faint blush crosses over both your cheeks. "Fiyero..." You mumble out in a soft tone as you take his hands, a panic stretches visibly across his face as he pulls away "uh-" is all he can mutter out "sorry I've got to go!" He blurts out in a panic as he scoops up his basket and runs off through the tall grass back to Shiz University.

You eyes follow him as he runs off in a panic, the sun begins to set and the grass darkens as you stand there still frozen in shock about the whole thing. You had the best and first kiss of your life and then Fiyero panicked and ran off, you slowly walk back to Shiz, slumped over and shy you walk back to your dorm room to find that your door is already unlocked and open, your eyes widen as you slowly walk inside. "F-Fiyero?!" You say in shock as he sits there on your bed with tears streaming down his face, "I'm so sorry!" He repeats himself over and over again between sobs as he stands up to walk over to you, you pull him into your warm embrace "shh...it's okay" you whisper to him aswell as sweet nothings to try and calm him down.

Fiyero snuggles his face against your neck, leaning down to make sure he can. His tear soaked face soaked your neck, you slowly manage to sit you both down on the bed where you comfort him and he tells you why he ran off. "I wasn't expecting us to kiss... I didn't even know I liked- ... I can't say it" he says nervously and embarrassed, you softly smile at him as you take in what he's just said as you gently caress his arm, your hand gently wipes a tear from his cheek. "You don't need to label yourself, just...like who you like" you whisper softly to him as his eyes lighten up slightly and his sniffles quiet down. His hand gently caresses your cheek once again like when you were both in the tall grass, "y/n..." He says in a quiet voice "I...like you" he mumbles out softly as his thumb traces along your bottom lip.

"I've liked you for a while now Fiyero" you openly confess to him as he leans in and gently pecks his lips against yours, both pulling away and smiling softly at eachother. Fiyero pulls you into his warm embrace as he gently caresses your cheek and then running his hand through your hair. "Can we stay like this?" You say softly to him as your face is in his chest as he lays back against your bed, "yes...I'd like that" he say to you as he closes his eyes and enjoys knowing that you there for him, enjoying your warmth, enjoying your presence.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter

[k1d1c4rus]

thinking about how armand was turned bc he was dying from being stabbed by a scorned grown man who was in love with him. he nearly died from rejecting unwanted advances. its such a key explicit detail of his origin that teaches him yet again that what he wants is utterly unimportant and even deadly in the face of survival. everything about his character is informed by the fact that he adapts entirely to the situation he is forced into because that's the only way he can survive. he adopts the satanic doctrine for 200 years not because he believes in it but because he knows that is the only way he'll survive and as soon as lestat arrives he knows he can abandon it. for half a millenium he believes he can't get what he wants and also survive, he has to choose one or the other. God.

[s0fter-sin]

when midoriya punches the zero pointer at the entrance exam, all might says “show who you are, embody what it means to be a true hero, nothing is nobler than self sacrifice” do you think aizawa heard kill bill sirens

[dullahandyke]

Sidenote I was never her biggest fan but whenever I see someone talk abt dahlia hawthorne as if she's some evil seductress who breaks hearts for fun I feel the intense urge to hit them with hammers. Fucker can you read????

[swdgf]

certain qidian authors shld start a side hustle writing dnmei actually 🙂‍↕️

[sinecosinewheel]

i finished reading the 489 page transformers essay just now and i watched the first three movies over the last couple days. cinematic garbage. but it compels me

[nomaishuttle]

the two rules of sweeney todd cast recordjngs is 1. theyll never be better than 2012 london cast talk to the hand 2. theyll never be worse than 2005 broadway cast talk to the hand

[mooniyuta]

i don’t think a book has ever broken me like mdzs did with the nightless city arc. the grim hopelessness and dread i felt watching everyone turn against wei wuxian just because he defended the wens. the absolute heartbreak of yanli’s death. the utter shock of jin zixuan’s accidental death when everything went wrong. like when wwx asked the wen siblings what to do and broke down crying i genuinely never cried so much with a character before

[woodlandscab1n]

Man. I'm glad I have Bishop as a character, they were a character that I used to beat the shit out of myself for what I considered my "bad traits", a complete extreme of this side I didn't wanna touch even with a stick.

But then I did. And, it's just...wild? I guess, I never thought I would even come close to redeeming this character, or making him any more sympathetic than what I established as the base. And it ended up happening anyways.

Through out the writing of their character I put myself the rule of never, ever change his core of being...because I wanted to make them irredeemable, by them never wanting to truly change, they'll never be redeemed but, I was wrong.

Redeeming him wasn't about changing his core, about making him more human-like, making him love and feel like other people do, completely overhauling his way of thinking. It was just... accepting it, and that doesn't mean you're doomed to be a bad person and hurt people just because of how, what you are.

I still have a long way to go to fully accepting those parts of myself, as well as seeing it on other ppl, but this character has given me a perspective I honestly didn't even know I needed, or even know it was a possibility for me.

[charafansmile]

Asriel could easily be like the god of familial love, of hopes and dreams, partnerships (friendships, companionship, puppy love if you must) and children/youth and then when he's flowey he could be the god of betrayal and spite, ala nemesis and eris. Still rooted in the ideas of love but twisted into what happens when love turns sour. Still a god of youth but also a god of lost time. Actually making him a minor god of time would also really work to tie into his character. Him being Pandora and the box at the same time would be interesting.

Transcript: ooh are we talking about reapertale? okay time to bring flowey into it because i was actually thinking about him recently—

first off, unrelated tangent, i think they did chara pretty decently? like, they used to be kind, but they were betrayed by monsterkind, etc etc. i like that, it honestly brings up what i think is a tragically unexplored part of their character. they hate monsterkind in some way for being so nice, and i think that’s why we can drive them to support genocide so quickly. i do think they shouldn’t have been evil right off the bat, of course, but hey! they’re a mythological figure. that stuff happens a lot in mythology, and more importantly it works in tangent to undertale.

flowey, though. god. amnesia does not suit him. they stripped him of character and expected him to still be flowey. it’s illogical. really reflects the early fandom’s perception of flowey and asriel as entirely different people. like being a flower makes you want to kill people or something. smh.

sorry i turned the topic to flowey but like. does he have to be the embodiment of despair. him being obsessed with chara is in-character i guess but he does it in such an out-of-character way. honestly that’s a big problem with every au! they make him a sweet little guy without actually addressing the roots of his canon problems. i mean, that or they make him the living embodiment of evil. they gave him the chara treatment, seriously.

he has so many layers though. it’s hard to fit him into one category. personally i’d make him some kind of pandora’s box thing. like an embodiment of the world’s pestilences where he used to be a closed box. helps highlight that he didn’t change, the box was always there, dying just opened it.

that might not make any sense. but man i’m tired of people making flowey chara’s lapdog. when in genocide he clearly sees himself as a partner in crime, at least until the end. (and then he defies them and ruins the whole killing humanity thing. so.) and don’t even get me started on pacifist. he tries to kill you repeatedly because he thinks you’re chara.

flowey is driven by (platonic!!) love. but it’s not the soft love you see on greeting cards or tv. it’s angry love. aggressive love. he’d do anything for the person he loves. even kill them.

honestly, maybe flowey would work better as a god of love. (yes i headcanon him as aroace but still.) “asriel” is soft, caring love. hugs and kisses and warm blankets and all that. “flowey” is the kind of love that slaps you in the face to get you up in the morning. he’s possessive, angry, passionate.

WHOO this got long.

[onthecrescentofthehill]

it’s funny when ppl talk about the harpy omelet scene and say things like “why did he do all of that? he didn’t need to. JUST doing that for laios???” (seen these nearly verbatim on posts i’ve made.)

i don’t really get how you can hear his backstory & not understand that every decision he makes within the dungeon is fueled by a profound trauma borne out of horrific, structural negligence. of course he would do fucking anything to enact his plan? if he computes “getting in laios’s favor = proxy control of the dungeon” and he has very limited time to do so, he will jump at the chance. he’s already DIED for this.

kabru has maybe the clearest possible motivation that a character can have. he has a Protagonists Motivation, and it guides him forward in a very coherent way in the beginning of the story. things get more complicated in later acts that directly address how that motivation manifests itself/gets contradicted, bc ryoko kui is great at exploring this, but it’s still extremely present.

and as a labru fan i strongly dislike the implication i see from some ppl that his interest in laios is mostly personal or romantic (posts that range from pure joke to actual ship meta.) even when taking the “confession” at face value, where i think he was telling the truth, there’s still a lot more to it than that. i think at first kabru does see laios as a means to an end in a way that’s impersonal, partly because he tends to keep everyone in his life at arms length. but that “end” (preventing history from repeating itself) is something foundational to his psyche, and we should consider that potential sense of safety getting mixed in with his warring fascination/apprehension towards laios. he’s drawn to him for visceral reasons, and his stated motivations are so intertwined with his sense of self that untangling this push-pull is much more interesting than boilerplate Yearning, to me.

it’s just confusing when any meta or basic discussion of kabru diminishes the weight utaya has on his inner world and i’m really surprised every time i see it? like i understand that different types of meta will put other lenses on things intentionally, and in most cases i think it’s an interesting tool to work with. but it’s a massive disservice to his character to put the most foundational experience of his life on the back burner ESPECIALLY when it’s in favor of shipping. dissecting character relationships, romantic or otherwise, is at its best when you have their full personhood in mind!!

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!

mistake

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.

No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead. 

It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants. 

Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse. 

You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit. 

Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits. 

You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault. 

As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim. 

After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about. 

“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight. 

Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that’s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine. 

You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look. 

He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”

He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes. 

The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror. 

You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.

“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it. 

You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”

“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face. 

“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him. 

You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.

Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you. 

You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.

You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said. 

You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same. 

You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after. 

You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle. 

You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”

His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again. 

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn’t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to. 

“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead. 

But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”

“Kid, don’t do this-”

“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills. 

His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself. 

“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again. 

“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”

You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands. 

Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones. 

Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.

The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore. 

Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it. 

You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her. 

But what do you do?

You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her. 

You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved. 

It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved. 

“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”

You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”

He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”

You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you. 

You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them. 

“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?” 

You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”

You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage. 

Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe. 

As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again. 

He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better. 

You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years. 

Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan. 

It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn’t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house. 

You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves. 

Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home. 

You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real. 

It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up. 

He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this. 

He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them. 

The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better. 

You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad. 

But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can. 

In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real. 

You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand. 

He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.

He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do. 

You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying. 

He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch. 

It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture. 

But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself. 

This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob. 

He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything. 

You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway. 

You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since. 

But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing. 

He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt. 

But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse. 

You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.

You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better. 

You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh. 

Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive. 

“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped. 

He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you. 

It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy. 

“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns. 

He’s going to leave.

You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight. 

“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”

He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you. 

It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room. 

He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”

“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something. 

And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him. 

There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?

“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said. 

“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now. 

“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him. 

“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face. 

He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings. 

You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in. 

When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.” 

You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him. 

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

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @allllium  ♡ 

[spacelazarwolf]

a year ago, i was celebrating simchat torah when my rabbi interrupted the services to let us know there had been an attack on israel. we didn’t know how bad yet, but we prayed everything would be alright. the rest of the service went on as planned, but there was a chill in the air, like we knew something had changed. something big. but we didn’t quite understand it yet.

a year ago, i watched people i’d followed for years celebrate a gruesome massacre of over a thousand human beings before we even really knew what had happened. i watched anons pour into my inbox, demanding i condemn israel even though israel hadn’t even retaliated yet.

a year ago, i talked to my nonna on facetime for her birthday. she was in her 90s and wasn’t as present anymore, and i could barely focus because my thoughts were thousands of miles away. i promised her i’d call her the next day but my next day became scrolling past horrific photos and videos i didn’t want to see, posts celebrating the attacks, posts telling people that if they didn’t celebrate the attacks that they were bad people. she died two weeks later and the same people sharing the posts celebrating the massacre sent me messages telling me it was good my nonna was dead, or extremely crude and disgusting messages about what they wanted to do to her dead body because she was “probably a zionist.”

a year ago, i worked at a synagogue that started getting dozens of calls and emails from people, across the spectrum from neo nazis to evangelical christians to radical leftists saying the most horrific things, telling us it was our fault, that we had to do something, that it was on us. we were responsible. an anon told me i was a zionist because i had a zionist language on my blog (hebrew) and worked at a zionist institution (synagogue).

a year ago, i started losing friends one by one after many of them started to share posts justifying or celebrating the massacre or memes created by neo nazis, some of which didn’t even bother to sub out “jews” for “zionists” but they shared them anyway. i was pushed out of an activist group after months of begging them to stop using antisemitic language because i had the audacity to tell a white gentile in the group not to say racist things about a black indigenous jew behind her back, and said gentile told me he didn’t have to listen to me and that he could “claim” the holocaust too because his ancestors were from eastern europe.

a year ago, i watched in real time as the world i thought i knew, the world in which jews had a future and safety in the united states, crumbled day after day. people that previously went out of their way to take care of me and support me decided that because i didn’t feel comfortable marching alongside pictures of hitler i must be a zionist and therefore no longer belonged. the person processing my government aid didn’t want to approve me because i worked for a synagogue part time and argued that the synagogue should just pay me more because “they can afford it.” my synagogue, which has been involved in social justice since its founding several decades ago, along with its rabbis who have been just as involved, were abandoned by the communities they had put their blood, sweat, and tears into advocating for when they had the audacity to grieve for the dead of october 7th.

a year ago, i learned the hard way that we are not special in this time. antisemitism is a river that has ebbed and flowed for thousands of years, and i felt like a fool for thinking a dam could be built overnight.

a lot of people say that every day of this year for them has been october 7th, but for me every day has been october 8th. the day after the initial shock, when reality started to sink in. the realization that all the people who had shared “happy rosh hashanah” posts or complimented my kippah or pretended to care about harry potter goblins were quickly dropping the facade. that my token minority card had expired and now having a jew in their group didn’t look diverse, it looked “sympathetic toward israel.” every day has been a painful reminder that no one else is grieving like we are, and a large number of those people are angry that we are grieving. they don’t understand that we’re not just grieving the lives lost and the hostages. we’re grieving for the world we thought we knew, a world where we might have a chance to thrive like we did in the golden age of spain. but those golden years are ending. and that is one of the things we are grieving.

a lot of people also say that they wish they could go back to who they were on october 6th, but i don’t. i’m glad the illusion was shattered, that i can see more clearly who will stand with jews even if they face backlash, who will challenge their antisemitic biases and do the hard work to unlearn them, and who did not have to be asked twice to share literal nazi rhetoric if it meant feeling like a hero. i’m glad the masks are coming off because it means you can’t gaslight us anymore and tell us it’s all in our heads. we can see you for exactly who you are now. and we will not let you break us.

i don’t want to be living forever in october. i don’t want the blissful ignorance of october 6th, but i also don’t want the bitter anger of october 8th. i want to stand up for what i believe in, to celebrate my culture and my people, and no amount of intimidation or harassment will keep me from loving my jewishness. you have shown me i can no longer live in october 6th, but i refuse to let you keep me in october 8th.

[applepiewinchesters]

Every Universe (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This was written while I was slightly intoxicated, I regret nothing though and hope you guys enjoy it. It was proofread but I cannot say there will be no grammatical errors. Regardless, please enjoy!! :) Also, takes place in the Deadpool and Wolverine universe.

Word Count: 4,158 (this bitch is long, for me at least)

Warnings: None really unless you count angst and fluff as well as the mention of butt stuff

Finding out that not falling in love with a man being the sole reason you were sent to the void seemed like a pretty patriarchal reason to essentially be damned but who were you to question the TVA.

The day you were sent to the void you’d seen the news, MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AFTER ATTACK AT XAVIER’S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS, names such as Jean Grey, Marie D’Ancanto, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Logan Howlett were read out by the heartbroken looking anchor.

Being a mutant yourself, the news stung and left a pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was an attack by an anti-mutant terrorist group, if they were bold enough to attack the home of Charles Xavier, why not a shopping mall next, or another school full of mutant and non-mutant children alike.

Only minutes after the newscast on the tragedy started four rectangular, orange portals opened in front of and behind you. Four men dressed in odd looking military uniforms stalked towards you. You didn’t even have time to attempt to fend them off before they grabbed you, holding you down while you attempted to break free but even with your mutation, they were too strong.

All you remembered was one of them placing some weird stick against your stomach and you screamed as you essentially dissolved into nothing.

When you woke you were found by who you now knew as Blade, and were told you were in the Void, where you would stay until you died or were killed by a fellow member of said Void.

You’d been there for a what you thought was probably a few years when a couple of Deadpool and Wolverine variants were found by Laura in an absolutely fucked Honda Odyssey. She brought them there and Gambit and Blade brought them inside and laid them down. They appeared as if they’d just had a horrific fight or the most violent sexual encounter ever.

The Wolverine variant was the first to wake up, quite literally shooting up into a sitting position while breathing heavily. His claws extended quickly from his knuckles, and he made an almost animalistic sound.

“Easy there killer,” you almost teased, holding up your hands, you’d been the one unfortunate enough to be closest to him when he woke up, so his eyes immediately fixed on you.

Several emotions seemed to flash across his face at once, his look of anger changing to one of shock. His claws disappeared just as quickly as they’d appeared just moments ago as you slowly put your hands down, now a little concerned for the man.

“Y/N?”, he asked, his head tilting slightly.

It was your turn to look confused, “Did we know each other?”, you asked.

Sure, you’d heard of Wolverine, of Logan, but you’d never met him personally, you had originally been set to attend Charles Xavier’s school when you were 18 but after an attack on the school the same year your parents had decided against it.

The Logan before you’ s face fell slightly; he seemed almost hurt. It took him a second to respond, ��I, uh, I guess not.”

That was when Elektra cut in, explaining to Logan where he was and how she’d found him and Deadpool. While he seemed to only half listen, he got up and found the nearest bottle of Gambit’s booze and started drinking it.

When Deadpool woke up it was a completely different side of weird, you hadn’t had the pleasure of coming across a Deadpool variant, but you’d heard how odd they were, and unfortunately for you, you thought they were exaggerating.

After annoying literally everyone in the room, the Deadpool variant all got you to somehow agree to help him and Wolverine get back to the TVA to save his timeline, as well as a sneak attack on Cassandra Nova. The whole time Logan watched you from the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t completely convince himself it was you. The last time he’d seen you, you were lying dead on the front lawn of the school, killed by a large group of humans, along with almost everyone at the mansion. You were covered in blood and cold by the time he’d gotten there. He’d held onto you until the coroner was nearly begging to take you away.

Logan remembered almost everything about you. Your favorite movie, what food you hated, and even the feel of your hand in his. But when you looked at him with little to no recognition in your eyes, his heart could’ve broken all over again.

You had no idea the conflicting feelings he’d had while you sat only a few feet away. You looked practically the same, maybe older than you were when you’d died in his world, he was older too, maybe you just didn’t want to be with an old man and were pretending not to know him. He was the worst Wolverine after all, he wouldn’t blame you.

But then there were some things you did that reminded him of his version of you, the way your laugh sounded exactly the same, how you sat the same way in your chair, and you even made the same face when you’d taken a drink of Gambit’s whiskey as when you’d sip his occasionally while the two of you sat on the couch in the mansion watching some movie one of the others had put on.

It was you, just, one that apparently hadn’t fallen in love with Logan Howlett. Logan himself couldn’t help but wonder if that had been your reason for being sent here, but thought better of it, deciding he'd probably never have that kind of impact on any kind of world.

After a successful attack on Cassandra and her small army, Deadpool and Wolverine were gone, and you hadn’t expected to ever see them again. Then Cassandra almost destroyed every timeline to exist, and you’d thought for sure those two variants had gotten themselves killed.

But then the TVA came for you and brought you to said Deadpool variants world, which he had successfully and somehow saved with Wolverine’s help. You couldn’t help but notice Logan’s shirt missing this time around. Almost cursing yourself for not trying harder to go to Xavier’s school when you were younger, having a chance to meet your world’s Logan. A man’s abs can do that to a woman.

“Happy to not be in the void and all, but why am I here?”, you asked, eyeing the agents around you and taking in the cracked subway station.

“I thought I’d give a little gift to Wolvie here,” Deadpool replied in an overly enthusiastic manner, throwing an arm around Logan who instantly pushed him away.

“I’m not a gift to give you dumb fuck,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

Deadpool ignored your obvious distain and continued, “Well I figured since he lost you in his world and you never falling in love in your world caused his death that you could stay here with us!”.

Your eyes widened and you had to think about what he’d said for a moment, “I-I got him killed? I got Logan and those other mutants killed?”.

Logan couldn’t focus on the other details once his name left your mouth; he hadn’t heard you say that in almost a decade.

You on the other hand turned to the woman beside you that looked to be in charge.

“Is that the reason I was sent there, because I didn’t fall in love with Logan Howlett and he died because of it?”, you asked, you felt like you could be sick.

The woman sighed, almost regretful, “Yes, it was,” she finally answered you. “Without your help of your mutation those mutants did not survive that attack on the school.”

“Oooooo, trauma plot twist,” Deadpool practically squealed.

“Shut the fuck up!”, you snapped back, making Deadpool whisper a bashful, “Sorry,” and take a step back.

The TVA agents left shortly after, and that was how you found yourself living in a small apartment with Wade, Logan, and the craziest old lady you’d ever met, Blind Al.

Wade and she shared a room as weird as it was, you were given the spare room Blind Al reluctantly let you use, as it was now formerly her grow room, and Logan elected to sleep on the couch.

You settled in somewhat nicely, you still felt awkward in a world that wasn’t yours living with a doofus that you'd grown somewhat fond of and a man you got killed in his other life, but you had new friends, ones that didn’t have a huge chance of dying every day so that was a plus.

Yukio and Ellie had gravitated towards you, you were somewhat close in age, with them being early twenties and you in your somewhat late twenties, they reminded you of your younger sibling’s friends from back home in your previous world.

So, when they invited you to go out a month after you settled in, you couldn’t say no, it would get you out of the house at least, you wouldn’t have to sit and listen to Wade and Logan argue or endure Logan’s kicked puppy look when he thought you weren’t looking.

You felt awful you weren’t the you he thought you were, and you knew it was nothing you could control but after Wade let it slip what had happened to you in Logan’s world you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed.

So, to hopefully be able to forget about everything for a few hours you got ready, doing some easy makeup and hair, you put on a cute outfit you’d bought earlier in the week, Yukio had begged you to go shopping after finding out you didn’t own anything for “going out” yet on this world.

You relented and picked out a skirt, top, tights, and boots, it was simple yet cute enough to not be mistaken as any old outfit.

When you’d exited your bedroom in your shared apartment shortly before Yukio and Ellie were due to come get you, Wade looked up from whatever the hell he was doing on his phone, which could be anything from porn to angry birds.

His eyes widened slightly, “Got a date?”, he asked, only slightly feigning shock.

Logan had looked up immediately at the mention of a date, he was sipping a bottle of whiskey at the kitchen table. His eyes traveled over your outfit when he thought you were busy glaring at Wade.

“Not that its your business merc but no, I’m going out with Yukio and Ellie,” you stated, tossing a lip balm you had in your hand to your small purse.

“Girls nightttt,” Wade sang, only making you sigh.

As if a divine intervention interrupted there was a knock on the door and when you opened it you found the two girls standing there waiting.

“Hi Wade!”, Yukio exclaimed waving at him.

Wade leaned back in his seat to look around you at Yukio, “Hi Yukio!”.

“Come on,” you told them, moving to leave but a hand on your shoulder made you turn around. It was Wade.

“Now honey,” he began, “don’t take drinks from strangers, don’t go off alone, and don’t hook up with anyone. You know what they say about beer goggles, you’ll be waking up next to the crypt keeper.”

While you rolled your eyes and pushed Wade’s hand off your shoulder although you knew he really did care. Logan on the other hand clenched his jaw. You weren’t his and he knew that, but Wade’s last comment set his teeth on edge.

“I’m a big girl Wade, but thanks,” you told him, turning around and leaving this time without so much as a glimpse Logan’s way.

When the door shut Wade spoke again, “She’s gonna get picked up by every hottie in the club in that outfit. Did you see her legs Peanut?”.

Wade then almost immediately flinched when he felt glass shatter on the back of his head, the alcohol in the now broken bottle staining the back of his My Little Pony shirt.

He didn’t even have to look back to imagine the look on Logan’s face, “Gotcha,” was all Wade replied, picking out a rather large glass shard from the back of his neck.

…

It was hours later when you were so drunk you couldn’t feel the cold outside, but you sure felt good on the inside. The only bad thing was that the other girls wanted to go to another club, and your social battery was just about gone.

You three stumbled out of the club, Yukio and you giggled at something Ellie had yelled at some perv leering at you when you’d walked out. Stopping the other two from turning the opposite way to another club, you spoke rather loudly despite being out of the crowd and loud music.

“I-I think I’m gonna go home! You girls go!” you told them, making Yukio frown.

“Don’t walk home by yourself, call Wade or something,” Ellie commented.

You nodded thoughtfully before gasping, “I’ll call Logan, Wade is doing butt stuff with Vanessa tonight!”.

Your loud comment sent Yukio into a giggling fit and made a guy near you wince, maybe he’d done butt stuff too.

Ellie only nodded, rolling her eyes as you pulled your phone from your purse, scrolling through the very few numbers you’d had, Wade had gotten both you and Logan phones soon after arriving, claiming he needed to be able to send you both funny videos every day. Which were no doubt ignored by Logan.

Pressing on Logan’s contact, you put the phone up to your ear, listening to it ring only once before the call was answered.

“You alright?”, was the first thing out of Logan’s mouth and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, I’m great!” you replied, “but Ellie doesn’t want me walking home alone and Wade is doing butt stuff so will you come? I’m only a few blocks from home.”

The whole sentence was sort of rushed and you thought maybe Logan hadn’t heard you correctly because the line went silent.

You were about to repeat yourself when Logan stopped you, “I’m coming,” he told you, you could hear him shuffling around and the sound of a door closing, “What’s the name?”.

Despite having been in the club for well over an hour you had to look up and squint at then brightly lit sign, “Uhhhh,” you mumbled into to the phone, before your eyes finally focused, “House of Yes!”.

You could’ve sworn Logan chuckled, “Be there soon,” was all he said before hanging up.

“Escort secured,” you told the two girls, slipping your phone back into your purse. “He’ll be here soon,” you added, attempting to replicate his gravely tone, only succeeding in making yourself cough and sending Yukio into a laughing fit.

It was only 15 minutes of standing around before Logan showed up, you spotted him first, having turned yourself that way to look for him. He was dressed in his usual jeans, button up, and undershirt, along with a leather jacket he’d picked up recently.

He looked good you had to admit, nearly every girl outside, and even some guys turned to look at him when he walked past. He didn’t give them any sort of acknowledgement though, earning some disappointed looks from a few of them when he walked up to you.

What was it Wade said about beer goggles? Logan was hot without alcohol though, so you shook off the thought.

“Ready to go?”, he asked, eyes scanning over you, not to be a perv but to make sure everything was the same as when you left, and it was, save for the way you swayed slightly and the way you smiled at him like you were so happy to see him. He thought he’d never see that again, but he has to remind himself for what felt like that hundredth time that it wasn’t you, not his you at least.

You nodded, turning around to hug both of the girls, telling them to be safe, although you knew Ellie wouldn’t put up with anyone’s shit.

“Bye Y/N! Bye Logan!”, Yukio exclaimed, waving at you both before grabbing Ellie’s hand as they turned the opposite way.

“Alright, come on,” Logan said, taking a step away from you and waiting for you to follow him to keep walking, he made sure to keep you closest to the buildings, it wouldn’t be too great to have you fall in the street in front of a car.

It was silent for a couple minutes, you stumbled every so often and Logan’s hand always shot out, ready to catch you, but you always righted yourself, giggling as you did, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound.

You caught him smiling after a couple times, narrowing your eyes, “What’re you smiling at grumpy?”, you asked, voice anything but angry.

“Grumpy?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, it’s what I call you sometimes in my head, Mr. Grumpy is also a good one,” you told him in a very serious tone.

“Mr. Grumpy,” Logan found himself repeating, only making you laugh, which made you stumble, nearly knocking into someone walking the opposite way of you both. Logan instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the almost collision and into his side.

You immediately noticed he was warm, you could feel it even with his multiple layers on, it was growing colder now outside as the days went on and you yourself knew without the alcohol, you’d probably be cold but here he was, a personal heater.

“Are you actually just a werewolf?” you asked him, making him stop walking completely and turn towards you, removing his arm from your shoulders, making you pout a bit.

“I am not a werewolf,” he told you seriously.

You groaned, “Okay but you’re really warm, you have claws, you can run on all fours, and you’ve got those little…,” you trailed off, putting your pointer fingers up on each side of your head, attempting to mimic the little swishes his hair made.

Personally, you had no idea if his hair just did that (because he’s a werewolf), or if he styled it that way. You couldn’t decide which option to like more.

When Logan didn’t seem to understand what you’d said, you reached up, lightly running a finger along one of the swoops of his hair. You jumped a bit when his hand caught your wrist as you were pulling your hand back.

There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize but it soon disappeared as he let you go, “Sorry,” he quickly said. “Reflex.”

You shrugged, “No harm done,” you told him, and his eyes softened at the way you brushed off his behavior from years of enduring nothing even remotely close to the gentle way you’d just touched him.

Maybe you didn’t think so badly of him. You always seemed so wary, afraid to make him angry, to say something wrong, like he was a ticking time bomb. It put him on edge and made him want to steer clear of you, he didn’t want to scare you off either.  But now, standing there staring at you while you just smiled at him made him relax a bit.

“Let’s go,” you suddenly said, beginning to walk away from him. He was back at your side in moments, and you found yourself bumping into him every so often, apologizing every time you did.

Finally, he wrapped an arm around you again, pulling you back into the warmth of his side. You smiled when he did, stumbling slightly but he held you up easily, not letting you fall.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” you told him when you were only a block from home.

“No problem,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk ahead.

There were a few moments of silence before you began to giggle suddenly, Logan’s brow furrowed as he looked down at you, “What?” he asked, hopefully not regretting asking.

“So, you’re not a werewolf?” you asked, looking up at him.

Logan groaned looking away from you, “No, and if you keep asking, you’ll regret it.”

“Ooo what are you gonna do?” you mocked, poking his side.

“Wouldn’t you like to know sweetheart,” he replied, making you stumble at the nickname.

“I would,” you challenged, after righting yourself with the help of Logan’s arm around you.

Logan regarded you for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re drunk, another time.”

“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, “Tell me!”.

“Not a chance,” Logan replied, smirking a bit. He’d been drinking since you left and was buzzed himself, he couldn’t help but smile at your behavior.

The you he’d known had always acted like this, at least when intoxicated. You were whiny, clumsy, and clingy. The way your fingers gripped the back of his jacket to stay up right made his heart ache though and his smile fell.

You noticed his attitude change and became concerned, “You okay?” you asked, attempting to stop walking, but Logan kept you going.

“Fine” he replied, his hold on you loosening slightly, you couldn’t help but notice.

So, you stopped, much to Logan’s dismay, moving to stand in front of him, swaying slightly as you very determinedly looked him in the eye.

“What’s wrong, did I do something?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice, he could almost feel his heart crack just slightly.

“No, it’s…,” Logan began, his tongue getting tied, he was never great at emotions, that’s why he drank so much. You didn’t have to feel anything then.

“I’m listening,” you reassured, resisting the urge to take his hand.

“You’re so much like…like her, like you,” Logan finally said, not really meeting your eye. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t, you even smell the same.”

Logan had rendered you with nothing to say, could you truly comfort him? Reassure him? You felt yourself sobering up a bit at the thought.

It was a few moments of silence before you found your words, “I know this has been shitty for you too, and I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend. Honestly sometimes I think you hate the fact that I'm not her, me her, whatever...that you hate me. But then you do things like this and it makes me think otherwise. I guess I just don't know how to...approach you, Logan."

Logan felt his heart drop at the word “friend”, and the thought he made you feel inadequate. God he really was stupid enough to think he might have a chance with this version of you.

But he found himself lifting a hand to your cheek, feeling your skin heat up beneath his fingers, “I could never hate you, not in this universe, not in any, got it? Its my fault, for pushing that onto you, making you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “We’re both just fucked up in our own special way, aren’t we?”.

Logan nodded, dropping his hand, but you caught it in your own, “It’s not your fault either you know, I personally blame whatever bitchass overlord of the universe did this.”

Logan had to keep himself from solely focusing on the way your hand wrapped around his, “But…,” he went to argue.

You put up a hand to stop him, “Enough with the self-pity Howlett, its unbecoming of a man of your nature.”

“My nature?” Logan asked, titling his head at you.

“Yes, the nature of being absurdly attractive,” you admitted, looking away from him as you spoke, attempting to walk away, but he pulled you back, almost into his chest, but he kept you a few inches away, still concerned with scaring you.

“Absurdly?” Logan asked, the smirk returning to his face.

You swallowed hard, “Did I say that? I meant unappealing, completely unsightly.”

Your attempt at saving your future sober self from your drunk self was failing miserably, but Logan gave in after a few seconds, shrugging as he turned, placing his arm around you once more, guiding you towards the apartment building you could finally see in the distance.

“Whatever you say kid,” he told you.

This was the most at home you two had felt in a while, and when you sat next to each other at breakfast in the morning, Logan passing you whatever you needed when you’d asked, Wade gasped dramatically.

“Did you two also engage in butt stuff last night, or is that not your cup of whiskey Wolvie?” Wade asked.

This earned him a fork to the forehead, easily tossed across the table by Logan.

The way you laughed made Logan’s heart skip a beat instead of crack again. For the first time in quite a while he felt hope, and if being here with you meant putting up with Wade’s dumbass mouth, he could make an exception just this once.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I felt like Tumblr was seriously lacking in Logan fluff so here ya go!

[washeduphazbin]

Lady Hell

(Lucifer x Fem!Reader x Lilith) NSFW THEMES AHEAD

Hi! Omg, I just saw/read the lucixreaderxlili story and wondered if you could write a story about Charlie and some others catching them "in the act" and just Charlie dying. Of course, Lucifer would accidentally permanently scar his daughter (and Alastor the ace) by turning around to go comfort his child, forgetting the situation for a "brief" (get it lol 😆) moment, and then trying to hide the three of them. Could you do the reactions of the others, either by hearing about it or walking in on it?

@legendarylearner18 I hope you enjoy it. I hope this is what you were looking for. I wanted to try to keep it somewhat canon, lol. So unfortunately we only get a little bit of Lilith.

For being cast to an eternity in hell, as a Sinner, you couldn't exactly complain about your current situation. You were found by Lilith, The Queen of Succubi and the subsequent Queen of Hell. While the Sinners around you looked like different creatures, you looked more human than a demon. Most likely due to the way you died, it wasn’t traumatic or horrific, so you kept most of your human features. The only difference was a pair of horns growing out of your head, and a devil-like tail.

Lilith was enthralled by your pure innocence; she picked you up from the street (literally) and brought you home. She allowed you into her palace and introduced you to her husband, her hands trailing and resting tenderly on your back. "What's your name, darling?" She hummed softly, brushing your hair from your face; you flushed, staring at the man before you, feeling the pressure of the much taller woman pressed against you. Your throat felt dry as you introduced yourself with a little bow; the man hummed,

"Is this a new Sinner, Lili?"

"Indeed. Lucifer, and I'd like to keep her." Your face burned hot as you whipped your head to the woman,

"Excuse me-" You sputtered,

"Oh, sorry. Are you queer?" She hummed, her nails brushing against your cheek, and you could only sputter out a yes of confirmation. She cooed sweetly, pressing your face directly into her tits; you squeaked, "Luci isn't she just the cutest Sinner you've just ever seen!"

"I think you're suffocating her," Lucifer mused, removing his hat and resting it against one of the many hat hooks. "Let me get a good look at her," Lilith released you, gently nudging you towards who you could only assume to be the King of Hell. You made a soft sound as he grabbed your waist; the way he analyzed you made you squirm nervously. "How would you like to stay with us? You have a choice of course.”

"Like here?"

Lilith laughed, grabbing your face and tilting your head to look her in the eyes; Lucifer took your hands and brushed his thumbs across your knuckles. "Yes, like here," she mused. You can say no. We aren't forcing you into a relationship if it makes you uncomfortable."

"You're new to Hell. We can keep you safe, but as soon as you want to leave, we won't stop you." Lucifer reassured, "But we'd like the chance to romance you if you'd let us."

You let out a little laugh, "Romance me?" Lilith giggled behind you as you watched the King Of Hell turn red and fluster. Sputtering out what exactly he meant trying to salvage the situation.

"Oh, you're going to be fun."

"And dangerous," Lucifer added, trying to recover from his embarrassment.

Your life since then has been pretty good. You fell hard and fast for Lilith and Lucifer and quickly became a part of their couple. They never made you feel less than for joining their marriage; you were equally as important as them in the relationship, and most importantly you were happy. When Lilith and Lucifer had Charlie, you were there beside them; helping Lilith through every moment especially when Lucifer was busy. Charolette, the little bundle of joy, only improved all three of your lives. You swore to yourself you would never force Charlie to see you as another parent if she didn't want to, but much to your surprise she did. You were a constant in her life, acting like a third parent to the girl most or the time, one who was constantly there and she loved every bit of you.

--

Charlie hummed, tapping her fingers together, "So that's why asking my other mom to convince my dad is probably our best shot at getting a meeting with Heaven!" Vaggie and Angel Dust glanced at one another,

"Hold on, you're telling me that the king of hell is getting double the pussy, and we're out here struggling ta get any?"

"You don't even like pussy Angel," Husk grunted,

"Not true. I like a certain pussy." He batted his eyelashes at Husk, who grunted, rolling his eyes while dramatically taking a swig from his whiskey bottle.

“I’m a feline or cat. Call me a pussy again, and I’ll shove this bottle up your ass.”

“Kinky I like it daddy.”

Husk promptly flipped him off.

"Not the point!" Charlie huffed cheeks, flushing. She didn’t even like thinking about her parents like that. "I've been scared enough with them to last me a lifetime!"

"Ohhoho?" Angel Dust leaned forward on his knees, "Sounds like you have stories."

"What? Stories? No way, not me." Charlie shook her head rather dramatically, yelping as Niffty ran up her leg, grabbing the collar of her shirt,

"You have stories! Dirty, nasty stories! I can smell them on you! TELL US!"

"You all realize you're asking her to talk about her parents having sex right." Vaggie grunted, "That's fucking weird."

"Don't care what's the most embarrassing thing you've ever walked in on!" Angel shouted, slamming his hands on the table, "I need to know!” Charlie chewed on her bottom lip, "You always say sharing is caring, Princess. Now that it's your turn. Are you gonna share your trauma? I've shared mine." He definitely hadn't but Charlie wondered if this was his first step into Angel actually caring about the group redemption activities.

"I...suppose you're right." She cringed outwardly as Angel grinned delightedly and turned to look at Husk. He rolled his eyes at Angel,

"I'll make you drinks; I have a feeling we'll be here for a while."

"After this story we're talking to your mom are you sure you wanna tell them then go see her directly? You don't have too." Vaggie placed her hands on Charlie's shoulders giving them a squeeze,

"It's okay Vaggie, I can do this! For the Hotel!"

—

Lilith hummed quietly, running a brush tenderly through your hair and detangling the locks. You stared at her gentle movements in the mirror, feeling her slender fingers pet your scalp. "You're staring, my beautiful lamb," You felt your cheeks burn as you looked down into your lap. You heard her soft laugh, pressing herself against your back, feeling her chest push against you.

Jesus, you were better than no man.

"Don't get all shy on me." Her fingers lifted your chin so you could turn to look at her. "There's my pretty girl." She purred, and you could melt. She leaned forward to press a tender kiss to your lips. Her other hand cupped the back of your neck possessively. "Do you wanna know something?" She murmured against your lips; she pulled away to look into your eyes as you nodded. "You're my personal Eden." She trailed the back of her hand down your cheek before pressing her thumb against your bottom lip, pulling it down. "I want to devour you; you'll let me, won't you?"

You let out a loud whine, nodding furiously at her, "Anything for you Lili." She raised a perfectly styled brow, "Mistress."

"That's my girl." She pet the top of your head, "I'm sad to mess up your hair after I just worked so hard on it. But, I think it's worth it, don't you?" Lilith's lashes fluttered, and you nodded like the lovesick puppy you were for her. The dynamic you had with the Morningstar's would be peculiar to anyone outside the bedroom; Lilith enjoyed taking the dominant role, Lucifer was a switch, and while you preferred to be more submissive, sometimes it was fun to be more dominant when messing with the devil himself. You shivered in delight at the thought of taking both of them as Lilith's mouth placed kisses against your neck. "Oh, little lamb, did you think you could hide your desire from the queen of succubi herself? You want me to gather Luci for us?"

"Would you be mad if I say yes?" You spoke softly, and she smiled sweetly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Not at all, my sweet thing. Why don't you get yourself ready for our return," She vanished, seeping elegantly into her shadow. You grinned, jumping on the abnormally sizeable plush bed you shared with the couple. Usually, Lucifer enjoyed undressing you, but what Lilith said goes, so you unbuttoned your shirt and slid off your skirt, leaving you just in your underthings. "Your gift is in here, Lucifer," you heard Lilith on the otherside of the door. The man let out a small laugh.

"Whenever you get me a gift, it always puts me on edge." He said lightheartedly, opening the bedroom door. His gaze landed on you immediately, and his cheeks burned scarlet.

"Do you like your gift?" She purred, leaning down to peck his cheek in a sultry manner.

"I mean, who wouldn't? Hi, Ducking!" He stammered, waving goofily. You giggled, waving back cheekily,

"Hi Luci, Mistress." You bowed your head, sprawling out on the bed seductively, your eyes trained on the growing tent in the king of hell's pants. "What role would you like me to take?" Your eyes trailed over to Lilith, who was slowly sliding down her dress.

She hummed thoughtfully, "What do you feel? Also, do you remember the safe word?" You nodded,

"Dominate with you and dominate with Lucifer. Is that alright?"

"M-more than," Lucifer stammered as Lilith reached around to place her hands on his shoulders, nipping at his neck. He let out a shaky groan at the sensation and you hopped off the bed kneeling before the King and Queen of Hell.

“Good girl.~” Lilith praised continuing to nip and suck on Lucifer’s neck her fingers moving to unbutton his top. Meanwhile he whimpered looking down at you as you undid his belt with ease fluttering your lashes innocently. You looked as beautiful as the day you arrived in Hell and he still couldn’t fathom what you’d done to end up in a place like this.

“Your Majesty may I?” You motioned to his hard cock straining against the confines of his briefs. He ran his fingers through your hair and you leaned into the touch,

“You may.” He watched you lick your lips hungrily as you pulled down his underwear, cock springing free bouncing against his stomach. He let out a shaky breath, as your hands groped his aching dick, “Ducking come on.” He whined as you slowly pumped him with a sadistic grin adorning your lips. He felt Lilith laugh against his neck and he huffed, she clicked her tongue grabbing his chin and tilting it up so she could press a kiss to his lips, it was heated as their tongues clashed in a fiery dance. He groaned into it giving Lilith control as he felt your hot mouth wrap around his cock. You bobbed your head skillfully taking him fully, your nose brushed against his pubic hair. You were always proud you could fit him in your mouth entirely, his hands dug into your hair pulling you somehow closer. You gagged but never thought about pulling away, you hollowed your cheeks making sure to use your tongue to trace the prominent veins underneath his shaft. His hips bucked into your mouth, he fucked your mouth with fervor groaning and whining the entire time. “That’s it, so close baby gonna cum-“

You pulled off with a significant pop, drool and pre-cum glistening on your lips and dripping from your chin. He made a heartbroken face in your direction as you licked your lips seductively, “oh my good girl, come to mommy.” Lilith purred as you rose to your feet, her hands wrapped around your waist as she pulled you onto the bed. Her dress had long since been discarded and her perfect breasts hung freely over you. “I’m gonna ride your face like the throne I deserve and Lucifer’s going to fuck that tight little pussy of yours.” It wasn’t a question but a command, “I’m sure you’re wet enough. I know how much you love sucking my husband’s cock.” You could only nod eagerly,

“Can I touch you?”

“You may.”

Your hands immediately shot forward, cupping her breasts between your fingers. She let out a sigh, beautiful and airy as your fingers brushed over her nipples. "That's a good girl," She purred as you began to massage her chest eagerly. Your tail swished wrapping around her waist urging her forward towards your mouth, "How impatient. Lucifer darling?"

"Y-yeah!" He sputtered removing his hand from his cock as Lilith turned to look at him. His shirt was hanging off his shoulders, unbuttoned and his pants were still down around his ankles. Face flushed red standing awkwardly, watching his two loves make out. She tutted and he flushed harder, "Sorry..."

"You're luckily out little lamb here has me in a good mood." She groaned a little as you leaned up as far as you could to nip at her breast. "Oh darling...Lucifer get over here and fuck her."

"Yes ma'am!" Lucifer grinned wiggling his leg and kicking his pants into the corner of the room...well tried to he ended up falling directly onto his face. Lilith sighed rubbing the bridge of her nose while you burst into a fit of giggles. You tried to cover you mouth with your hands as you tilted your head backwards, he raised his head with a nervous smile. "My bad," His voice cracked a little as he fumbled his way over to the both of you.

"You're such a goofball," Lilith sighed now trying to hide her smile from her husband. "You still alright to continue?" She was looking at Lucifer but you knew the question was for the both of you. Embarrassed Lucifer nodded as you responded with a resounding

"Yes!"

"Good then let us continue." She mused clapping her hands together as the lights in the room dimmed and the candles flickered to life. She leaned forward connecting your lips together you moaned quietly against her, her hand coming up under your bra to squeeze your chest gently. "Ready?"

You felt Lucifer's nails trail your thighs and his lips pressing gentle kisses to the skin there. You shivered at the touch and felt him smile against your flesh, "Yes Mistress." You saw her smile, beautiful like the sky back on Earth. She moved with the grace of a queen as she moved to sit on your face, squeezing her thighs against your head. Lilith let out a loud intake of breath as your tongue prodded at her entrance. Your hands moved to dig your nails into her thighs as you ate her out like a woman starved. Meanwhile you felt Lucifer bite at your inner thighs causing you to moan against Lilith, she let out an elegant groan as her hips began to roll into against your mouth. You heard the devil snap his fingers as your bottom half got much breezier, he had snapped your underwear away, thank god they weren't your favorite pair.

He was making sure to mark you up before licking a stripe up your pussy his snake like tongue moving circles on your clit. Your thighs unconsciously clamped around your head and you felt him tut against you yanking your thighs away from his skull. You wined as Lilith ground down on her, filling your mouth with her wetness, nose brushing against her clit. You felt the dynamic switch as Lucifer leaned back thumb massaging your bud and fingers teasing your entrance mercilessly. You tried to get out a mumble out a please, but Lilith's body made your plea sound like nothing but a mumble, "You trying to beg Duckling? It's a shame you can't."

"Aw Luci don't be mean to the poor girl, she's working hard to please me-" She was cut off with a moan eyes fluttering, "I'm close. Don't be mean to her when she's doing such a good job. Unless she's somehow not wet enough but I doubt that."

"Oh she's dripping." Lucifer mused, "But if you allow it I'll fuck her immediately. After all, it's her turn to be throughly bred." You moaned hotly into her and her sweet sounds tangled with your own, her entire body pressed hard into you as she climaxed into your mouth. Her chest heaved as she slid off you, your mouth wet with her juices, as your tongue came to swipe at your lips.

"Lili!~" You moaned your hand reaching out towards her, she hushed you softly intertwining her hand within your own, she looked over at Lucifer, "Please."

She hummed turning to face Lucifer giving a nod, his entire face lit up like the stars, he leaned foward to kiss you tenderly. "I love you,"

"I love you too," You purred cupping his cheeks sweetly. "Don't make me beg,"

"I won't you've been plenty good." He pressed a kiss to your nose causing you to giggle. He gave himself a few pumps before sliding into you with relatively ease. Your eyes rolled back in your head fluttered with a sharp intake of breath. "Fuck...baby-" He moaned, "You're alway so tight around me." You didn't get a chance to respond before Lilith placed her lips onto yours and her hands under your bra; palming at your chest. Lucifer sucked in a needy breath at the sight and your hips began to buck up against him continuing to flutter around him. He took your hint and began to pump in and out of you, you broke away from Lilith spit still connecting the two of you as you let out a loud moan. "That's it...my good girl."

He always felt so big inside you, you swore he'd break you in half, as your toes curled once he hit the spongey spot inside of you. "More." You demanded as Lilith giggled, "Fill me up."

"As you wish, you wanna make me another Daddy-"

"Dad?"

"FUCK ME!" Lucifer yelped his wings suddenly sprouting out of his back in a panic, pulling out of you in a hurry. Your eyes widened into saucers clamping down on him in surprise which caused him to cum prematurely over your stomach. Lilith cursed under her breath, frantically looking around for a blanket.

"Lucifer!" He was snapped back to life by the sound of Lilith's voice his wings quickly shifted covering the both of you.

"Oh God!" Charlie shrieked once she fully processed what was going on, she covered her eyes. The teenager's cheeks were flushed, "What the fuck!"

"We're so sorry!" Lucifer sputtered, moving to get up to explain himself.

"DAD DON'T GET UP!"

"Lucifer!" Lilith hissed,

"SORRY!"

"I'm leaving!" Charlie squeaked out, "Sorry! Sorry! Oh god my eyes!" The door slammed shut with a bang as Lucifer's wings disappeared and buried his face in his hands.

—

It wasn't a surprise that she first came to you with her hotel idea to rehabilitate sinners instead of her father. You shuffled uncomfortably as she held out her drawing cards; she was pointing eagerly to her plans. By her side was her girlfriend Vaggie, the girlfriend Lucifer didn't know about.

She had you wrapped around her finger, and she knew it.

"Charlie, you know I love you and admire your ambition; I always have, but..." You trailed off as she frowned, lowering her papers. Your heart ached, "Shouldn't you be talking to your father about this- and don't say I'm your mother, you know what I mean." You held your finger up to stop her, “it's just. I don’t know how I can help you sweetheart.”

“Well I was…ya know thinking. That you could maybe possibly I don’t know, convince dad it’s a good plan. And well I don't know get me a meeting with Heaven.”

You winced, “Charlie…” she pouted giving you her saddest puppy dog face, “I only have so much power when he comes to controlling your father.”

“But we’re making SUCH good progress. Angel Dust is on the road to redemption as we speak!” She exclaimed, “right Vaggie?”

“Right.” She smiled reassuringly up at her girlfriend before turning to you, “just…try please. If it doesn’t work Charlie will call him and figure something else out. We aren’t asking for him to help,” Charlie opened her mouth to protest, “without seeing it himself first.” She corrected and her girlfriend nodded in approval.

“You two I swear.” You stood on your toes grabbing Charlie’s red cheeks kissing both as she flushed. “If your father kills me it’s your fault,”

“He’d never!” Charlie looked aghast, “he loves you like he loved Mom!”

“I know, Hon. Don’t worry, figure of speech.”

“Oh,” she frowned. “Well, try not to talk like that. Think positive!” Charlie grabbed your hands and opened her mouth,

"I love you, but please don't sing right now." You kissed her knuckles softly, "I need all my brainpower to talk to your dad."

"Understood!" She squealed, "I love you!"

"I love you too. Now shoo, your dad will call you later." She wrapped you in another hug, and Vaggie nodded her head in your direction with a little smile. Charlie pulled away and interlocked her hand with her girlfriend before scampering off. You rubbed your face tiredly; Lucifer and your relationship had been strained since Lilith left. You still loved one another dearly, but her leaving had taken a toll on both of you. While he retreated to isolate himself in his room, you coped in other ways, namely, running his kingdom for him to the best of your ability. The only things you didn't do were meetings and phone calls with the Seraphim or the Angels.

So, things between the both of you have been a little more than awkward and tense. Not knowing how Charlie would react, you both decided it was better to try to deal with your emotions privately instead of telling her outright that you were having relationship issues. You still slept in the same bed, but most of the time, it felt like he was barely there...reminding you that you were just a lover and not a wife.

Cursing inwardly at the thought, you loved Lilith; you missed her smile, her voice, and her kindness. But it was hard not to feel bitter at times; she left you and Lucifer...alone...for going on seven years.

It had not only devastated him, but Charlie, and you as well. Despite your wishes those bitter thoughts, were getting more and more common.

You let out a shaky sigh before you smoothed out any wrinkles in your dress as you approached his workshop. You knocked softly on the door. You heard frantic rustling and fumbling of what you could only assume was another rubber duck project before the door was hurriedly thrown open. His eyes squinted like he was trying to gather what you were doing here before he let out a panicked, nervous laugh.

"Duckling!" you could hear the nervous tremor in his voice, "What-ugh- what are you doing here?"

"I live here? We sleep in the same bed." You deadpanned,

"No, I mean! Er, my workshop,"

"Charlie stopped by-"

"She did?!" The panic in his voice was even more evident now that you mentioned the possibility that his daughter was here you watched as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Is she still here? You got her to leave right? Did she ask about me? I'm not prepared and-"

"Luci," Your tone softened, cupping his cheeks and running his thumb across the apples of them, "She's not here. She had a message she wanted me to relay to you."

"She...asked you and not me?" He murmured, and you chewed the inside of his cheek,

"It wasn't a long visit; you were very busy."

"Yes...I was busy."

You both stared at one another, tension seeping into your bones. Your tail flicked restlessly, and Lucifer's claws drummed nervously on the wood of the doorframe. "Welp!" He clapped his hands together, "If that's all." He moved to spin around back into his duck-filled workshop,

"I didn't even tell you what she wanted..." You spoke quietly, reaching out to touch his shoulder but he flinched away before you could make contact again.

"Fuck, I didn't mean to flinch. It's just Lilith and...and I know we haven't been intimate- It's just-" He rambled,

"No, please don't apologize." Your smile was strained, and your hands clutched the top of your dress. "I understand completely, Your Majesty."

He said your name, pained, "Don't do this-"

You held up your hand, silencing him, "It's fine." You doubled down on the earlier statement before sighing, shoulders slumping, your entire body felt heavy. "I love you but I don't know if I can keep doing this..."

"Please stop." He reached forward to grab your shoulders, in a frantic way to prove he wasn't afraid to touch you.

"Lucifer, I'm tired." You looked up at him and already felt the stinging behind your eyes, "I miss her so much it hurts...I miss you. I'm so lonely I feel like I could die again."

"Don't say that." He said seriously, hands moving from shoulders to your cheeks, "Never say that. If you died, I couldn't bear it."

"The great Lucifer Morningstar would live, I'm sure. Although he'd have to rule his own kingdom again." Your lips twitched in a sad smile,

"I don't think I would." He chose to ignore the second part of the statement, "I know." You watched his throat bob, "I haven't been fair to you. I've shut you out, and I shouldn't have, and it breaks my heart that I made you doubt my love for you." His fingers brushed against your cheek, wiping away tears that began to roll.

"Lilith is your wife, and I can't imagine what you're going through-"

"Out of everyone, I think you're the only one who can relate to what I'm going through." He laughed airily, "I'm a mess. I'm depressed, and what kind of man am I? My wife left, our daughter hates me, and you can't stand to be in the same room as me."

"But that's all I've wanted!" You shouted, not unkindly, "I want to be with you, I'm meant to be your rock, your support how can I do that if you shut me out."

"I never meant to!" He exclaimed, "I just- I hate myself all the time-"

"Join the club!"

"Fuck. We're both messes, aren't we?"

"More than," You laughed, rubbing your eyes. "Look, Luci..." He blushed a bit at the nickname, and it made you smile. "Can you promise me we'll work on it, work on everything, together? No more shutting one another out."

"Promise." He stood on his tip toes and leaned forward, hesitating slightly, "I don't want to pressure-" You grabbed his lapels and pulled him close, pressing a hot kiss to his lips. He groaned a bit into it, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. "I missed this, I missed you," He mumbled against your lips. "I'll be better. To both of you-"

"Oh." You snapped your fingers, pulling away from him, and he made an 'eh' like sound. "Speaking of Charlie wants you to get her a meeting with Heaven."

"WHAT!"

[gothamite-rambler]

"Is he okay?" Scarecrow, of all people, asked with concern.

Scarecrow observed the third Robin crossing the fear toxin-laced streets without a mask, his expression vacant and distant. Yet, it was clear that Tim wasn't under the influence of the toxin; instead, he had mentally retreated within himself.

Scarecrow (British accent): Hey, kid you've been breathing in my fear toxin for a few minutes. I usually relish this, but you're not screaming or crying. Everything good?

Robin: My dad just died, called me to tell me he loved me... I found his bloody corpse. No time to save him. I have since accepted that life is meaningless. I have nothing to fear because what's to fear when the people you love are dead and gone... what's the point to keep going when you can give up on life?

Scarecrow (analyzing the Robin): Deep depression from the loss of a parent is typical. This sadness will pass with time. Yet, the toll it takes on his spirit may leave scars that last far longer than the grief itself.

Robin (blinking quickly): There's no passing except both of them being dead. I feel nothing. There's no joy in anything, being happy, the moments with your parents, all gone. I embrace my sadness like a long lost lover.

Scarecrow (concerned): Right, right, where's Batman? You should go with him and rest for the night.

Batman walked over to Robin and placed one of the masks on his face then turned him away to head to the car.

Batman: You can sit this one out, okay? You're going through a lot and I don't want you to go insane from the toxin.

Robin (monotone): There's toxin? I wasn't aware, my whole life is nightmare.

Robin walked away while whisper singing a jazz song his father played for him once.

Robin: My lovin' daddy left his baby again/ Said he'd come back but he forgot to say when...

Scarecrow (calling out): Hey, kid I may be clinically insane, but don't give up on life. It'll get easier.

Robin waved his hand faintly while walking through the toxin fog to find the car, but his mind would rather stay outside and inhale the toxin and if it wasn't for Batman, he'd sit on the ground and breath the fear toxin deeply into his body.

Scarecrow: You're going to give him the usual antidote, correct?

Batman (nodding): Yeah, sorry about that, he's usually... not acting like me on a bad day.

Scarecrow: Seems he lost his father in a truly horrific manner. I'm guessing, which makes it hilarious to me, but I imagine a normal sane minded person would be shell shocked after it all settled in. He masks in front of others as a defense mechanism?

Batman: Yes, he masks it well with his friends, but when he's with me... that happens and I can not handle it.

Scarecrow (crossing his arms): He's continuing to fight crime with you which is admirable. Working is better than laying around all day. Grief can hinder progress in life, so you just have to keep moving. Be there for him, in times of grief a good support team helps bring the person back to normal.

Batman: Tsk... I forget you were a professor of psychology before you went insane, uh thanks. Can I just take you down and arrest you early then?

Scarecrow: Yeah, sure mate. I saw a young man who is reeling from his father's death and while I wish him the best, that's satisfying enough for me.

Batman glared at the man and punched him unconscious.

Batman (aggravated): You had to keep being an asshole, huh? Couldn't be nice for the entire conversation? Figures.