#i was so sad and then he started to stream and saved me

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[not-neverland06]

you're not her

The 'Worst' Logan x fem!mutant!reader

a/n: really wanted to write for the worst logan so I found a streaming site so I could finally watch the new Deadpool movie (yay pirating) (this is totally hypothetical and a joke to the feds lurking) I was going to just read the wiki plot but I don’t think that was going to cut it Again, using the same superhero name/powers. It’s not an OC I swear, it just makes sense in comic book movies to have some alternate name and I’m not creative enough to come up with multiple different supe names. Summary: You hate him, you really fucking hate him at first. He’s cruel and constantly reminds you that you’ll never be the hero he knew. You’re not her and he’s made that abundantly clear. But what are you supposed to do when he’s suddenly your new roommate and you have no choice but to wake up to his face every day? I feel sad because I don’t think I did the angst justice with this one. But if I keep staring at it trying to fix it, then I’m never going to post it. (This is a long one guys) Angst with a happy ending (because I’m a little bitch) Makeout scenes and smut towards the very end 18+ MDNI

You don’t know how you got here, but you know you’re mad at whoever dragged you into this shit. You don’t think it would be wild to assume it was Wade’s fault. Usually, when something goes wrong in your life it’s on him. 

What you do know; you look like shit. Wade and Wolverine are both standing over you in their awesome ass uniforms and you’re still in your fucking pajamas. How are you supposed to be badass and save the world in pants that have Spiderman’s face plastered all over them?

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Wade,” you growl at him. 

He places his hand daintily on his chest and waves you off, “Save that for the bedroom, pookie.”

You grit your teeth and glare up at him, Wolverine gives him a similarly disgusted look. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you grumble under your breath. You get to your feet and brush yourself off, finally looking around and taking in wherever the fuck he’s dragged you. “Where are we?”

“The void,” Wade responds, voice ridiculously dramatic. You look around and throw your hands up in defeat. 

“What the fuck, Wade? Why did you drag me with you into this?” You look over at the Wolverine beside him. He hasn’t stopped glaring at you both and his claws are out, clearly ready to just eviscerate you. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Okay, wow, language, Flux. I’m disappointed in you.”

“Eat me-”

You’re cut off by the knock-off Wolverine standing a few feet behind you both. “Flux?” He demands, voice so low you almost can’t hear him. Both you and Wade’s heads whip around to face him. Thus far he’s been relatively silent, you nearly started to wonder if he was mute. 

“It’s her X-Man name,” Wade tells him, gushing like it’s some big deal. “Impressive, huh?” You don’t bother correcting him that it was your X-Men name. Can’t exactly call yourself that if they booted you off the team for being a crappy superhero. 

Logan snorts and shakes his head. He stalks towards you and you nearly fall over in your attempt to scramble back from him. “You,” he demands, claws pointed at you threateningly. “You’re Flux?”

Wade hisses, watching as Logan swipes out at you. “Alright, peanut, let’s put the claws away and take a deep grounding breath.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps at Wade. He turns to glare at him and you take the opportunity to scramble behind your friend for protection. At least if he gets stabbed, he’ll heal. “You,” he scoffs and it trails off into a laugh. There’s no humor behind it, he's just a dick. “You are a fucking joke compared to my Flux.”

The ground underneath you rattles, pebbles bouncing off the cracked desert and ricocheting off their boots. Wade quickly moves away from you, shoving you forward so he’s not in the line of fire. “Yeah, well you’re just an alcoholic fuck who could never hold a candle to my Logan.” 

You can feel energy brewing at the tips of your fingers, waves, and waves of hate building up within you. The man across from you feels the shift, the static suddenly permeating the air around you both. You let your power build and build…

The pebbles drop back to the ground and you stumble back from Logan, nose bleeding from overextending yourself. “Shit,” you mutter, wiping at your face with the back of your hand and shaking your head. 

Logan laughs again, it echoes through the stormy sky and you wish you had any control over your powers so you could just send him flying. Or, better yet, turn his bones into liquid and flip him inside out. “Oh,” he lets out a long exhale, glaring at both of you. “This is fuckin’ ridiculous.” The faux smile drops from his face and he raises his voice just loud enough to make you jump, “Just one big fuckin’ joke!”

You have about five seconds to dive to the side before Logan is lunging at Wade. “Wait, wait, wait we can talk about this!” Wade shouts, but it’s too late, he’s already on the ground getting his head caved in. 

You let out a rough sigh, stumbling off to the side. You’re drained from that shitshow of powers. You barely made a few rocks levitate and you feel like you’re going to pass out. You walk away from the two men and throw yourself on the ground, trying to reorient yourself while they fight like wild animals. 

You can hear them in the background, stabbing and shooting like they’re aiming to kill. Too bad neither of them can die. It’d save you a hell of a headache.  They run past you, Logan’s got his claws buried in Wade’s gut while Wade’s desperately firing off his gun into Logan’s chest. 

Your head rolls weakly to the side and you mutter out a pathetic, “No, stop. Don’t kill each other.” As expected, neither of them listens to you. They keep fighting, showing no signs of stopping. 

There’s a moment of silence after about ten minutes of nothing but grunts and insults. You peak your head up in interest. Logan got his claws posed over Wade’s throat. You wonder if decapitation would actually kill him or if he’d somehow manage to survive that. 

Wade doesn’t seem interested in testing out the theory, “They can fix it!” Wade shouts, “They can fix your timeline. I just need your help saving mine.”

Your eyes widen and you meet Wade’s masked gaze over Logan’s shoulders. The white slits widen and he minutely shakes his head, telling you not to say anything. Like, maybe, that neither of you has any fucking clue if the TVA is capable of even fixing timelines like that. 

You know Wade is desperate when he makes that promise. It’s the only reason he would say something so stupid. It’s a blatant lie, one pulled so far out of Wade’s ass you’re genuinely surprised that Logan can’t smell the bullshit. Whatever happened in his universe must have been horrible for him to ever believe anything that comes out of any Deadpool’s mouth. 

It’s a long moment before Logan finally pulls his claws out of Wade. Your friend slumps forward in relief as Logan stalks away from him. You glare at Wade from where you are on the ground, “That was fucking stupid,” you snipe at him. He gets to his feet, walks over to you, and forcefully yanks you to your feet. 

“Not a goddamn word,” he warns, but you aren’t exactly threatened by him when he's got three holes in his head from Logan’s claws. Still, you hold your hands up and acquiesce, following after him as he chases down Logan. 

Your mind is still fuzzy when you are captured by Cassandra. You're recovering from overextending yourself, eyes blurring and limbs going limp like jello when her army of henchmen circle you all. 

You finally feel yourself starting to come back to your body when you wake up tied to Johnny. “And,” Wade draws the word out, waiting until you lift your head to finish, “there she is! Happy you could join us, princess. Mind turning these ropes into dust for me?”

You groan and let your head slump onto Johnny’s shoulder. He smirks and glances down at you. “Oh fuck off, both of you. I can’t do shit right now and you know it, Wade, I’m drained.” 

Logan is glaring at you, but there’s less hate in his glare and more confusion now. “Can you do anything?”

You narrow your eyes at him, lips screwed up while you try to decide if he’s being an asshole or genuine. “Hard of hearing or something old man? I’m drained,” you reiterate, your tone a little too bitchy. 

Logan narrows his eyes, grunting something foul under his breath. Wade interferes before you can piss each other off anymore. “She had an accident, her brain’s a little broken now. But it’s fine! Whose isn’t?”

You huff and throw yourself back against the cage you’re all being transported in. You feel eyes on the side of your head and slowly look over to see Johnny grinning at you. “Hey, you know I’ve met one of your variants-”

“Don’t give a fuck,” you interrupt. You hear Wade snicker under his mask, giving you an encouraging thumbs up even with his hands bound. You were both a little disappointed it wasn’t Captain America lurking under that cloak. But at least this guy isn’t such a prude he won’t cuss. 

For the next five minutes, you’re on the receiving end of a very enthusiastically vulgar rant about just what a cunt Cassandra Nova is. He’s still not even finished by the time you reach the gates to her lair.

Your eyes widen when you see all the people lurking around the walls. Most of them you recognize as people you’ve put away or killed in your world. But there’s something just minutely different about them than the version you faced in your timeline. Their eye color or outfit is always just slightly off. 

The familiar faces are almost a relief. But there is nothing comforting about knowing you're outnumbered two hundred to four. The cage is tipped over and you go rolling out, you grunt as Johnny’s elbow digs into your ribs. 

Before you can even attempt to shove him off, the ropes are whipped off of you and you’re dragged by an invisible force across the ground. Rocks and sand scrape across your tender skin and bury themselves deep in your pores. You hiss in pain when you finally come to a stop and your body is your own again. 

A groan slips through your parted lips unbidden as you struggle onto your knees. Your pajamas are ripped practically everywhere and you feel like you might as well be naked at this point. You really wished that you at least had a chance to change before you were kidnapped to another universe. 

The woman you presume to be Cassandra Nova is currently fucking Wade’s skull with her freakish telepathy fingers. Johnny’s a pile of guts and bones on the floor and you have no fucking clue where she flung Logan to. 

You get to your feet, shaking your head and reorienting yourself. In a second she’s in front of you, head tilted to the side while she regards you curiously. “Woah,” you jump back, glaring at her outstretched hand. 

“Careful,” Wade warns her breathlessly, still clutching his head. “Flux here has a pathological fear of bald people.”

You nod, “It’s true, you can imagine how strained my relationship with your brother was.” Cassandra circles you, a devious tilt to her lips. Your eyes track her, unwilling to take your gaze off her for even a second. You feel like a rabbit, facing down a fox that’s made its way into your burrow. 

“Curious,” she mutters. “I’ve seen quite a few of you down here before. But,” she chuckles and before you can move her hand is shoving its way into your brain. You scream, there’s an agonizing burn as her fingers probe under your eyes and dig through the deepest part of your subconscious. It feels like someone’s taking a shovel and ripping up your worst traumas. “None of them have been so weak.”

Wonderful, even she wants to insult you. You can feel the way she’s plucking through your thoughts, tossing aside the ones she doesn’t like. Images of your childhood are flashing across your vision. You can no longer see the world around you, it’s like every one of your worst memories is being played on a projector. 

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue and jerks your neck around until you’re looking at something you’ve tried to forget for years. “Here it is. How easy it would be for me to simply unblock those powers of yours.” She smiles, her face appearing before you and blocking out the bloodshed. “It would make this far more entertaining for me, what do you say?”

Your teeth are clenched so tightly you’re surprised they haven’t cracked yet. It’s hard to get the words out when her fingers are still dancing through your skull. “Fuck you,” you finally spit out. She releases you suddenly, and you surge forward with a gasp, clutching at your skull desperately. 

You half expect your brains to begin leaking from your nose and eyes. But nothing happens, despite feeling incredibly violated, everything is still in its proper place. Cassandra walks past you like everything is fine and dandy in the world. “Well, as much as I would love to see those powers of yours in action again, Flux, I’m afraid Alioth must eat.”

Before you can ask what she's talking about there’s a loud rumble. Like thunder cracking through the sky and land, the ground underneath you shakes. Cracks form under your feet and the henchmen around you all start desperately racing for cover. 

You turn around, staring wide-eyed at the purple cloud of death and destruction steadily moving across the sky. A face breaks through the clouds, grinning down at you. Purple lightning hits the ground and the villain next to you explodes into nothing but dust. 

“Shit!” You shout, turning around and running to try and avoid getting zapped up next. There’s no coming back from this one. Once this monster gets you, not even god could save you. 

Suddenly, an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you off your feet. “No time for consent, we’ve got to get the fuck outta here!” Wade shouts in your ear. Logan is standing next to some robot leg, ripping out cords until a jet on the back fires up. Wade leaps onto the boot, wrapping an arm around Logan’s legs as you’re all shot into the sky. 

You’d scream if you weren’t trying not to throw up. You hurtle through the sky at speeds that have your skin nearly ripping off your skull. The rocket on the back of the leg starts to sputter out. The flames flickering out and then back to life. It steadily begins to drop until you’re plummeting headfirst towards the ground. 

Wade wraps himself around you, tossing himself off the boot so he can brace your fall. You hear and feel nearly all of his bones break under your weight. For a moment it feels like you’re laying on warm jello as you try and catch your breath. 

“Nailed it,” he mutters weakly. You’re pretty sure he can’t breathe, a rib having pierced his lung in the fall. A shadow looms over you and you glance up to find Logan glaring down at you. You stare at him apprehensively, half expecting him to unsheathe his claws and just end you right here. 

Instead, to your surprise, he holds a hand out. You look at it with suspicion, glaring back up at him. “Fucks sake,” he mutters. He reaches down, roughly grabbing your hand and jerking you to your feet. You feel the warmth of Wade’s blood on your back and grimace. 

“Thanks,” you mutter, still not entirely trusting of him. 

He purses his lips into a thin line, backing awkwardly away from you. He just nods and starts surveying the land around you. It feels less like trying to figure out where you all landed and more like awkwardly avoiding eye contact. 

The whole interaction leaves you feeling odd. “Well, that was as awkward as two virgins on prom night,” Wade loudly announces as he jumps to his feet. You whip around and send him a dirty look but his attention has already been snagged by something else. Lately, you’ve been considering grounding up Adderall and slipping it into his breakfast, you think it might do him some good. 

What’s got to be the fugliest dog you’ve ever seen in your life bounds towards Wade. He drops to his knees, ripping off his mask and opening his arms wide to the mutt. You grimace, taking a step back when she starts licking his face. “Oh, that’s just wrong.”

Thankfully dogless, you steal Nicepool’s Honda Odyssey - much to Wade’s chagrin. Logan’s in the front seat, Wade beside him. You’re sitting in the back, rubbing your temples and trying to get rid of the raging migraine you’ve had since Cassandra finger blasted your brain. 

You’ve been zoning in and out of the conversation happening in the front seat of the car. But Logan suddenly slams on the brakes and you go hurtling forward. Without even looking at you, both their arms shoot out, blocking you from flying through the windshield. 

Your face scrunches up as you look at both their arms, it feels like being saved by an overbearing soccer mom. “Buckle up, princess,” Wade tells you. He shoves you back into your seat and you look between the two men suspiciously. 

“Did you just say if?” Logan growls, glaring at Wade. Your face drops, finally realizing what you’d missed. 

Wade lets out a weak chuckle, “Slip of the tongue?” Logan growls and the claws come out. Wade raises his hands, “Okay, let’s put a brake on the crazy train. I wasn’t lying it was just an educated,” for the first time in your friendship Wade is actually speechless. You’re shocked by the silence. Until, of course, he runs his mouth again and comes up with the lamest cop-out you’ve ever heard. “It was an educated wish that they could fix your timeline, alright?”

Logan doesn’t give much of a warning except a low growl before he shoves his claws deep into Wade’s thigh. “You motherfucker!”

“Hey!” You shout, jumping forward and ripping Logan’s claws out of Wade’s leg. “Look, we’re trying to save our whole fucking universe. Can you blame him for lying?” You regret opening your mouth pretty much immediately. 

You should have just stayed out of this, it wasn’t any of your business. And if they wanted to be two dumbasses and fucking tear each other apart then so be it. But you never should have drawn attention to yourself. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan shouts at you. It’s so startling, coming from him. You’re still associating him with the man you’d looked up to growing up. Your Wolverine was a hero. He was the reason you wanted to be an X-Man. And they look exactly the same, it’s nearly impossible for you to separate this one from the one you knew. 

But it's easier now. Because the man you’d known would never be so cruel and jaded to the world. Not like this. “Why the fuck are you even here? You’re just some watered-down knockoff of a real hero. You are nothing, you’re worth nothing. It’s a fucking joke that you’re alive and the woman I knew is buried six feet deep. If there was anything right in the world you would be in a grave somewhere crawling with maggots.”

Your eyes water without your permission. You don’t know this man. Yet, he has the face of your greatest hero and the man who you’d grown up hearing stories about. It’s like facing everything you’ve ever wanted to be and having it shout your deepest fears and insecurities back at you. He’s just confirming something you’ve known for years. You never deserved the title of being an X-Man. You never deserved the uniform or anything that came with it. 

Your breaths are coming short and fast, it feels like your lungs are constricting. You worry you won’t be able to get air in but he doesn’t care. No, he keeps going. “You follow this fucking clown around and you contribute nothing to the world. You’re never gonna save your fucking timeline. You can’t even make a few rocks float.” It’s not the words that hurt you next. It’s the way he says it. “You’re pathetic.”

He spits them at you. There’s venom lacing his tone like he’s seen into you and knows there’s nothing in you to offer. For the first time in a long time, you feel seen and you hate it. Because he’s looking past the sarcasm and the faux confidence you carry yourself with. 

He sees the empty husk of a woman you truly are and he’s forcing you to face it with him. It causes you physical pain, to know that everything you’ve ever feared about yourself is true. You don’t have anything to say to him, you can’t. 

Your lips tremble and you feel so fucking small. You can hear your parent's voices in your head, screaming at you and wishing you were never born. They’d rather have a stillborn than a fucked up mutant for a daughter. You see the way even other kids at the school would hide from you. You were made wrong, even as a mutant you were never truly accepted. 

Logan’s face drops ever so slightly at the prolonged silence in the car. Even Wade isn’t speaking, he’s just staring at you both. “I,” he starts, but Wade cuts him off. 

“I’m gonna hurt you now.” Wade’s never been one to let people run over you, even when you might just let yourself fall into the background. You shouldn’t be surprised when he draws a knife and stabs it into Logan’s throat. 

But the arterial spray that follows catches you off guard and suddenly your tears are dried. Instead, you’re throwing open the car door and diving out before one of them crushes you. You make it out of the car just in time, Logan having thrown Wade right where you had been sitting. 

Music starts up in the car as a result of their fighting. Divorced dad rock and the sounds of their, borderline, sexual grunting are your soundtrack for the rest of the night. You curl up at the base of a tree, waiting for them to be done with each other. 

Logan’s words continue to echo through your head. And the longer you linger on what he said the angrier you get. Not necessarily at him, but at yourself. You’ve let yourself linger in self-pity and wallow in regret for so long. 

You look in the mirror and you no longer recognize yourself. He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re a fucking joke. You toss your head back, slamming it against the trunk of the tree hard enough for it to hurt. 

There’s this manic, cloying feeling tugging at your chest. It’s like someone’s sitting on your ribs, crushing you until you can’t breathe anymore. You keep throwing your head back, letting the pain distract you until you feel warm blood leaking down the back of your scalp. 

“Shit,” you hiss, hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull. You wince when you feel the split in your skin. The blood leaks over the tips of your fingers, running through the cracks of your palm. 

You force yourself to relax, to move your head away from the tree. As you go to stand up, possibly to get Wade and Logan to quit their fighting, you notice something odd. The air around you is still, you can no longer hear them grunting or groaning as they rock the Honda. 

Leaves are suspended in the air. They’re not trembling from the breeze, they’re completely frozen. You take a step forward and gasp when you hit something solid. The air in front of you has solidified somehow. 

The realization dawns on you slowly but surely. This is you, you’ve done this. Manipulated everything around you on an atomic level. You’ve turned something you shouldn’t be able to feel into something you can touch. Frozen the world around you. Whatever Cassandra had done inside your head, it had knocked something loose. 

You haven’t had this wide a range of control for years. Any attempt to do something like this has been met with nosebleeds and long periods of blacking out. Elation fills you, the hurt from earlier is nearly gone. 

You glance through the wall of air and try to see if you can still see the Odyssey. To your horror, it’s gone. You wave your hands and the air returns to normal. The leaves drift back to the forest floor and you run back to where you’d left the two men. 

There are tire tracks dug deep into the mud. You know Wade wouldn’t willingly leave you behind, not here. You don’t know if Logan’s just kidnapped him or if someone else has. Whoever was driving was clearly in a rush to get out of here. 

You must have missed it all while you were having your meltdown. “Fuck,” you shout, your voice echoing into the branches above. You take in a deep breath and start walking. Hopefully, you can catch up to them before whoever has them does serious damage. 

You make it to a weird cave/hideout area. The Odyssey is parked outside and when you peek through the broken windows you find the interior completely destroyed. There’s blood soaking through every surface, anything and everything has been smashed and bent the wrong way. 

You don’t even know if this is from Wade and Logan or whoever had snatched them. Shaking your head you back up and slink towards the entrance of the den. You can hear shouting inside, it sounds like Wade, but you can’t make out what he’s saying. 

You haven’t seen action for a long time. At least not any that you could actually contribute to. It feels a bit like riding a bike. You’d practiced on your way here, making things around you float or eradicating a few trees into nothing but dust in the wind. But this is different. 

Your friend (and Logan) are inside, possibly being tortured. Maybe even dead. Though, you seriously doubt the universe is going to be that nice to you. You let the energy build in your arms, it’s like a warm tingling feeling. It shoots down to the palms of your hands until you feel static in the air. 

You take a step inside and spot three people. Each of them is decked out in weapons. One of them turns and spots you. “Who is-” 

You don’t let him finish, throwing your hands out and slamming them all into the wall so hard the whole interior shakes. Dirt rains down from the ceilings while their faces contort in pain. You run inside, spotting Logan and Wade. 

You shoot Wade a big grin but he throws his hands up and shouts, “Read the fucking room!” Your brows furrow and he points emphatically at the people you’re holding, “Good guys!”

“Oh shit,” you release them immediately, a guilty look on your face. “I am so sorry.” Logan cackles in the back, doubled over laughing while the three people in front of you brush themselves off. 

You don’t want to be out here with him, but it’s better than being in that cave with the others. Laura walks past you, sending you an uneasy smile. You’d noticed her sitting beside Logan and decided they probably needed a few moments to themselves. 

They were finished now, though, and he had the only bottle of liquor left in the cave with him. You trudge over to him, leaves crunching under your boots. Elektra, after that horrific introduction, had given you a uniform a different Flux had left behind. 

She was long gone, killed by Cassandra years ago, but she’d conveniently been your exact size. The uniform is nearly identical to the one you have buried under your bed. Black leather with a dark purple X going across your chest and matching purple seams. You’d never wanted something ridiculously flashy. Just something that people would see and associate with the X-Men. 

Because that’s all you’d ever wanted to be; a hero. It feels like a pipe dream now. If your pajamas weren’t so destroyed you would have just stayed in them. You don’t feel like you deserve this uniform, not when the woman who’d worn it before you had actually been a hero in her timeline. 

“Don’t want company,” Logan snarks, without even looking back to see who’s coming up to him.

You take a seat on the lawn chair closest to him and snatch the bottle of whiskey from his hands. “Good,” you tilt your head back, downing as much as possible. It burns the whole way and you revel in the slight tickle in the back of your throat. 

“Alright,” Logan mutters. He gently takes the bottle back from you, giving you an aggrieved look when he sees just how much you’ve stolen. He looks back into the fire and sighs, “Look, I’m not interested in hearing about your sob story or why you’re suddenly drinking all my liquor-”

“Gambit’s liquor,” you interrupt, not bothering to look at him. “And I’m not looking to dump my sob story on your lap. I just want to sit in silence and that’s impossible because Wade hasn’t stopped running his mouth since we got here.”

He looks a little surprised by the brusque way you dismiss him, “Alright,” he mutters. He takes another swig from the bottle and you both stare silently into the fire. It’s like that for a while, you don’t bother keeping track of time. 

All you hear is the crackling of the flames. All you can feel is the way your eyes burn from staring into the fire and watching sparks pop off the logs for too long. The breeze rustles the trees, makes the leaves shake free and dance around the logs of the fire. 

He breaks the silence first, to your chagrin. “About what I said,” he clears his throat uncomfortably, still refusing to look at you, “back in the car.”

“Don’t,” you snap, voice low. “Just,” you let out a long breath and shake your head. You finally look over and meet his eyes. He does actually look sorry, but you don’t want to hear it. “Just don’t, I deserved it all right.”

“No, no you didn’t.” You open your mouth to argue but he gives you a firm look that has your jaw snapping shut. “I was wrong, I don’t know you. And if my Flux had ever heard me talking to you like that she would have melted my fucking spine.” He laughs a little and you feel your lips twitch up slightly. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look anything but angry. 

Curiosity loosens your tongue and knocks you out of the dazed stupor you’ve been in. “What was she like?” You ask, tone earnest. “Your Flux, I mean, you make her sound so amazing. I just can’t,” you trail off, but the look on his face tells you he understands your unspoken words. I just can’t see myself as a real hero. 

He groans and leans back on the log he’s resting on. He stretches his legs out in front of him, the liquor bottle placed on the forest floor. You’re surprised, you figured the thing was glued to his hand. 

“Well,” he reaches up and scratches at the scruff of his chin, a wry grin on his face. “She was always giving me shit, never let me get away with anything.” You unconsciously lean forward, drawn into the endearing way he begins to describe this other version of you. 

It’s not ridiculous to assume this variant meant something to him. He’s got a shine to his eye that you haven’t seen in the whole time you’ve been together. His gaze has been empty, closed off to anything and everything. But now, his eyes are crinkling at the corners, there’s an easy smile on his face that you can’t miss. 

“Ah, she was fucking feisty. And strong, she was so strong. She was always a better hero than I was. She lived for that shit,” he trails off and shakes his head. You can see you’re losing him and you don’t want this to end. You’re in your own little bubble right now, getting to pretend there’s a version of you out there somewhere that actually lived up to her potential. 

“Her powers,” you blurt out, desperate for something to stop him from retreating back into his mind. “Did she have, um, good control over them?”

Logan nods, eyes darting down to the bottle of whiskey before flickering back up to meet your gaze again. “Yeah, Charles trained her, she was right up there with Jean. She could have,” he stops and suddenly you feel guilty for making him talk about this. You can see the tears in the corner of his eyes, the way the whites of them go red. “She could have been great.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t mean to pry.” But you did. You were being selfish and forcing him to talk about it even though you knew it would hurt him. 

“Look, kid, she would have liked you. I’ll tell you that much,” he says reluctantly. Like the words hurt to force out. You suppose he isn’t used to being genuine with anyone. 

You shake your head and look down at your hands. “I appreciate the thought, but I doubt it.”

Logan grabs the bottle again, gulping it down like it's water. His words have a slight slur to them as he speaks again. “I think I would know, bub. ‘Sides, you made it into the X-Men, tells me what I need to know.”

You scoff and fix him with a sardonic look, he raises his brows in question and you roll your eyes. “They’ll take fucking anybody. And I still wasn’t good enough for them.”

Logan shakes his head and frowns. “If what I saw in there,” he points back to the den and you feel your cheeks warm as you remember what you’d done, “is any indication, then I’m sure you were plenty good.”

You lean towards him, elbows braced on your knees. He follows suit, leaning so close you almost want to back up. The proximity flusters you slightly but you shake the feeling off. “You don’t even know me and the first real thing you said to me was that I’d be more useful as fertilizer.”

He sighs, face screwing up at your harsh words. He runs a hand over his cheeks and groans, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You lean back in your chair and idly twirl your hand through the air. The leaves around you lift up and flutter through the air above your head. Logan watches and you turn back to him, waiting until his eyes meet yours to speak again. “Yes, you did. And you were right. I’m fucking useless, powers or not.” The leaves drop, a few fluttering into the fire. “We’re irrelevant, Wolverine, two washed-up X-Men who never looked good in the uniform.”

There’s a twinge of hurt on his face but you can’t make yourself feel bad about it. Since he’s such a fan of brutal truth, you’re sure he can handle it. 

You watch as the leaves curl up at the corners, the fire burning them straight through the middle. You get to your feet and move past him. You’re nearly back to the den when he calls, “The suit looks right on you,” over his shoulder.

You pause at the threshold of the door. He’s already drinking again, staring into the fire and watching it burn. You take a few steps towards him, staring at his broad back. “What happened to her, your me?”

Logan looks down at his hands, his ring finger specifically. You wonder at the significance of the movement, what exactly you’d meant to him. “She married me,” he mutters, voice cold and closed off again. 

“Goodnight, Logan,” you whisper, finally walking inside the den. 

You miss the small goodnight he sends back to you, finally turning around only to watch you leave. 

There had been a very clear plan set in place. Get Juggernaut’s helmet, put it on Cassandra, and then kill that psychotic bitch. Which is why you’re so confused when you’re standing knee-deep in guts and watching Logan and Wade leap through a portal above you. 

You don’t have time to feel angry or even hurt that they left without you. Laura is grabbing your arm and you’re both running for your life, trying to escape Alioth again. You run into Cassandra’s lair ducking into one of the rooms and dragging Laura with you. 

You’re both holding your breaths and praying that he’s sated by the others still outside. After a few minutes, the cracks of thunder stop and you risk peeking your head outside. The clouds have retreated back to their usual spot in the middle of the void. 

You take in the carnage of Cassandra’s evil lair. Most everybody is dead. You only have to skirt around a few people to get back to the Odyssey. 

You throw yourself in the driver’s seat and sink back against the bloodstained cushions. You let out a relieved breath and look at Laura, “What do you do to entertain yourself around here?”

You acclimated to the idea of being stuck in the void pretty quickly. There wasn’t exactly a lot waiting for you back home. Besides, Laura was nice enough. You had food, beer, and company. You didn’t really need much else. 

You’re pretty sure if you linger too long on the thought that Wade left you behind you’ll fall into a depression that you’re never going to be able to claw your way out of. So, you forced a smile on your face and played cards. Nothing else to do but wait to die of old age or for Alioth to kill you. 

Of course, your plans had to be ruined. There was an odd rush of air against your back and then a slight whoosh. Laura glanced over your shoulders and her brows furrowed, you turned around to find three armored men waiting behind you. 

“Flux,” the man glanced from you to Laura, “X-23?”

“Laura,” you both correct at the same time. 

The man gives an aggrieved sigh and holds his arm out, “Come with me, please.”

You stand up, energy tingling in the palms of your hands while you regard them suspiciously. Laura comes up behind you, claws out and glaring at them. “Why should we?” You demand. 

Barely a second later you hear the most insufferable voice in the world. “Hiya, peanut!” 

“Wade,” you hiss. You follow the armored men through an oddly shaped portal and find Wade standing beside a shirtless Logan, smiling proudly at you. “You fucking left me,” you hold up your hands and his eyes widen. 

His hands quickly come up, trying to assuage you, “Hold on now-”

You throw him back, his body hurtling into a nearby building and caving in the wall. Logan watches it happen with a small smile, “Been wanting to do that for a while.” 

Once Wade had recovered he filled you in on everything that happened. TVA did a general clean up and then you were standing in front of your apartment door, keys in hand like nothing had happened. 

It was so bizarre, going from a mission to save your timeline and then you’re expected to just go about your life. You stay standing in that hallway for you don’t know how long before you hear someone behind you. 

You jump and drop your keys when Logan clears his throat. “Shit,” you hiss, whirling around and glaring at him while your heart races. He chuckles and bends over to grab your keys for you. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. This is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him, covered in blood and in a borrowed shirt. “Uh, Wade doesn’t have enough room at his place. Told me I should come over here.”

You look over his shoulder and see Wade peeking his head out of his doorway. He catches your eye, sending you a thumbs up. You almost smile but then he makes a phallic gesture with his hands, pointing at Logan and humping the air. You glare at him and he quickly backs into his apartment, but not before sending you one last encouraging shit-eating grin. 

You look back at Logan and he’s waiting expectantly for your answer. “Yeah,” you take your keys from him and unlock the door. “I’ve got a spare room but there’s no bed in it right now.” Your eyes widen when you see the mess that is your apartment. 

You quickly rush through, picking up empty take-out boxes and dirty laundry and shoving them into your room. He’s smiling at you when you come back and it's slightly off-putting. “Um,” you gesture towards the couch awkwardly. “You can take the sofa tonight and we’ll look at setting you up with something more permanent tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” he hovers by the armrest and you engage in the longest stare-off of your life. Neither of you says anything for a few suffocating moments before he gestures at himself. “Shower?”

“Oh,” you snap out of your stupor and nod your head. “Yeah, right, of course.” You show him down the hall, “Here. I’ll go get you a towel.”

You rush towards your linen closet, leaving him behind in your bathroom. You grab a few clean towels and then figure he might want some clothes as well. You grab some pajamas that Wade’s left over when he’s crashed before. They’ll probably be a bit tighter on Logan, but you wouldn’t mind seeing that. 

You walk back to the bathroom and the thought of knocking doesn’t even run through your head. It should, honestly, but you’re already so thrown off by him even being here. You walk in and immediately gasp and drop the towels. 

“Oh, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’s standing naked before you. Clothes discarded on the floor behind him. Everything on perfect display. Your eyes land on his abs, noticing a few prominent veins leading down-

You cover your face and turn around. “Sorry,” you mutter again. God, you’re such an idiot. You still haven’t even left. You’d just been shamelessly ogling the man naked and you don’t even have the decency to walk out. 

You really can’t help it though. It’s been such a clusterfuck, the last 72 hours. Your brain is fried and Wade’s little show hasn’t helped you at all.  

You hear Logan laugh behind you. “It’s alright,” he mutters. Something warm ghosts across your arm and you jump slightly. His hand firmly grasps your bicep, gently tugging your palms away from your face. 

You risk a glance over your shoulder and nearly gasp at how close he’s gotten. He's towering over you, something in his face you can’t place. “It’s alright,” he whispers again and you find yourself nodding without really thinking. 

He’s got both hands on your arms now, trailing up and down. The touch is so featherlight you can barely feel it at all. You don’t even realize how he’s gently coaxing you closer until you trip on the towels at your feet. 

You startle, looking down at them and moving to kick them aside. But he stops you, his finger nudging your chip up so you’ll look at him again. There is such blatant want painted across his face that it makes your heart skip a beat. Your breath catches in your throat when he wraps an arm around your waist and drags you closer. 

You can feel all of him. You can feel just how much he wants you. It catches you off guard, this sudden display of attraction. You don’t know where it’s coming from, what’s brought it on. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’ve been so lonely for so long. You just want to bask in the fact that he looks absolutely starved for you. 

No man has ever looked at you with such heartbreakingly yearning eyes - like he’s been looking for you his whole life. He dips down, lips ghosting gently over yours. Your breaths mingle together, you can nearly taste him. 

It’s unclear which one of you moves first, who pushes closer to the other. But it doesn’t matter because the second you put real pressure behind the kiss he’s all over you. One of his hands drifts down to your ass, squeezing the flesh there and dragging you closer, grinding his hips into yours. 

You moan at the feeling, your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself even closer. He groans against your lips at the first swipe of your tongue. You part with a gasp when he picks you up, practically tossing you onto your sink. Your legs spread instinctually, making room for him as he slots himself between them. 

It’s odd, feeling so vulnerable even when he’s the one who's completely naked. It still feels like he’s holding all the power. 

His lips are moving frantically over yours like he’s terrified you’re going to disappear the second he lets go. You can taste something desperate on his tongue. Something deeply rooted inside him that you can’t identify. 

One of your hands drifts from his neck, trailing over the muscles of his chest. Your fingers carve a path down his abs, relishing in how muscular he feels under your palm. Your hand reaches his pelvis, nearly wrapped around him when he jumps back. 

He grabs your wrist in a grip so tight you know there’s going to be a bruise. A pained gasp slips out and he releases you immediately. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “Sorry, I can’t.” He won’t look at you now, backing up towards the shower and shaking his head. “This was a bad idea, I can’t do this.”

You shake your head, slipping off the sink and hiding your bruised wrist behind your back. “No, sorry, I shouldn’t have moved so fast.”

You feel too ashamed to meet his eye. He kissed you but you feel like you’ve forced yourself on him somehow. It’s a nauseating feeling and you want nothing more than to run back to your room and hide. 

He takes a step towards you, something pained on his face. “Kid-”

You just shake your head, step out of the bathroom, and grab the handle of the door. “Sorry,” you whisper again, closing the door behind you. You lean against the cool wood, trying to catch your breath. 

Your hand drifts up to your lips, still tingling from how desperately he’d kissed you. It doesn’t make any sense. He came on to you, he threw you up on the sink, and made out with you more passionately than any man ever has before. So why are you the one who feels dirty?

You rush down the hall and into your room, slamming the door behind you. You dive under your covers, closing your eyes even though you know you won’t sleep. No, your shoulders are tensed up to your ears and your bones are vibrating with an energy you need to release. 

You’re completely tuned into the other person lurking in your apartment. You can hear as he starts the shower, how he talks quietly to himself sometimes. Then when he gets out you can perfectly picture what he looks like while he’s getting dressed and it only makes you feel worse. 

You listen as he leaves the bathroom and pauses in the hall. You can see it in your mind’s eye, how he stares at your door. He walks towards it and lingers for a minute before cussing quietly and heading back into the living room. 

You suddenly remember that you didn’t lay sheets out on the couch for him. You feel guilty, but there’s not one part of you that will be dragged from this bed and face him. Not now, at least. 

He’s up for a little while longer, getting water. Turning the TV on and off. Rooting through your cabinets looking for booze you know you don’t have. Finally, he settles on the couch. You’re awake for another hour, unable to relax until you’re completely sure he’s asleep. Even as you drift off and your body finally relaxes your mind doesn’t. You keep seeing that stricken look on his face and it makes you sick to your stomach. 

It’s the smell of pancakes that wakes you up. You’re not sure when you finally managed to pass out last night but you know it was late. Which is why you’re so pissed off that you’re being forced to get up at seven in the morning. 

You’re used to being able to sleep in a lot later than that. You’re already in a pissy mood from last night and it only gets worse as you trudge around your room getting ready. You’ve never been more thankful to have snagged one of the rare two-bathroom apartments in the building.

You don’t want to have to share a bathroom with Logan. You don’t even want to use the other one after what happened last night. It’s too embarrassing and painful to think about. The emotional whiplash of feeling so desired and then absolutely hideous is making your head spin. 

You’re sure it was all just a problem on his end, but it really doesn’t make you feel any better. When you can’t stall any longer, and you know that Logan has heard you get up, you slip quietly out of your room. 

The curtains in your living room are open and he’s in the kitchen fucking around with your stove. The news is playing quietly on the TV and you’re astounded about how little he’s done and how much more homely your apartment feels. 

It’s never really been home to you. Not after you were booted from the X-Men. But he’s somehow made it ten times cozier than it ever has been. You almost resent him a little for it. 

“Morning,” he grumbles from the kitchen. “Coffee,” he motions behind him and you see a steaming cup already waiting for you. You silently slip behind him, grabbing the creamer from the fridge and pouring it until you’re sure it’s sweet enough to not actually taste the coffee. 

“Thanks,” you mutter, moving to sit at the table. You keep your eyes trained on the TV, pretending to pay attention to the news so you don’t have to look at him. He bores his eyes into the side of your head until you feel like you’re going to have holes in your temple. 

When you can’t take it anymore you finally look over at him. He doesn’t smile, his face barely even twitches, he just looks back to his pan and continues scrambling some eggs. “Didn’t know you cooked,” you offer up weakly, already growing anxious from the silence. 

It feels wrong, to be walking on eggshells in your own apartment. He grunts and shrugs, “Not really cooking. You had the mix in your pantry,” he tells you brusquely. His tone borders on rude and you scoff. 

The audacity of this man to have an attitude with you in your apartment. He was the one who threw a hissy fit last night. You roll your eyes and go back to the news, all it tells you is that the world is just as depressing as the inside of your apartment is right now. 

You notice out of the corner of your eye the way his shoulders slump forward. He leans against the oven, seeming not to care if he burns himself. You suppose it doesn’t matter, he’d just heal. “Sorry,” he mutters. It sounds like it pains him to say the words. 

“Whatever,” you mumble under your breath. You take a long sip of your coffee, slurping a little so you have something to fill the atmosphere. 

He puts some food on a plate and brings it over to the table for you. You usually don’t eat breakfast, preferring to just skip the meal and eat a bigger lunch. But it feels too bitchy to say that to him, so you just accept the food with a strained smile. “Thanks.”

He sits across from you, glaring down at your table like it insulted him. You drag your fork against the plate, letting the scrape of metal against porcelain drown out your worries. Finally, he looks at you. “Look, about last night.”

You tense up. You want to interrupt him, to stop him from explaining. You know it’s just going to hurt your feelings, whatever he says. Whether he tells you it was a mistake or he just realized he’s not attracted to you, either way, you’re fucked. But, it’s also kept you up all night so you just shut your mouth and let him speak. 

You keep your gaze trained on your plate, unable to fully face him. He lets out a long sigh and clenches his fork so tight you hear the metal bend. He drops it to the table and clenches and unclenches his fists a few times. 

“I just couldn’t kiss you, not when I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons.”

Your brows furrow in confusion and you finally look up at him. “What?” You demand, disbelief coloring your voice. 

His eyes are boring into yours, an intensity behind the stare that leaves you feeling a little shaken. “You look like her,” he whispers, and the grief is so thick in his voice it makes your throat tighten. He pauses briefly before continuing. “There are,” he clears his throat like he’s trying not to cry. It makes you lean back in your chair, arms crossed over your stomach uncomfortably. 

“There are a few differences, obviously. You’re not a carbon copy. But your mannerisms, your attitudes, you’re so similar. And I,” he shakes his head and gives you one of the most genuinely apologetic looks you’ve ever received. You can tell he really does feel guilty for projecting on you but it doesn’t make you feel any less uncomfortable. “And I just wasn’t doing that for the right reasons. I was pretending you were her and that’s just not fair to you.”

You lean your elbows on the table, head falling into your hands. You let out a rough sigh and groan in irritation. You knew the reason would hurt but you didn’t think it would be this bad. You feel gross, icky under your skin knowing that he was pretending you were another version of yourself. The version of yourself you’ve always wanted to be; the hero. 

But you also feel such a deep sadness and sympathy for him. He’d briefly mentioned that he was married to this other you. You can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like, to see your dead wife’s face staring at you and she doesn’t even know you. 

“I,” you don’t even know where to begin. You struggle to say anything for a minute and you both just stew in the tense silence. You take in a deep breath and look up at him. You do what you always do, forcing a smile and shrugging it off. “I appreciate the honesty, really.” You stand up, bringing your still-full plate into the kitchen and busying yourself with cleaning up. 

“Clearly,” you snap, your voice crueler than it should be, “It was a mistake. We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t happen again, right?”

Logan sits silently at the table. He looks like there’s more he wants to say but you don’t give him the chance. You can’t take it. You finally thought someone had wanted you for you, flaws and all. You’re a fucking idiot, he barely even knows you. Whatever connection you thought was there was just brought about by your own loneliness. 

“I gotta get ready for work,” you tell his back because he isn’t looking at you now. 

He nods, scraping his fork across the plate as he aggressively cuts into his food. “Right.” You wait for him to say anything else but he doesn’t. 

You walk past him and head back to your room. You don’t even have a job, you don’t have to work. But you still grab your purse and head out of the apartment. Pretending you do just so you don’t have to look at him anymore. 

You really should have let him finish, though. You should have let him keep talking to you. Let him explain how as much as he sees her in you, that’s not why he wants you. He wants you for you. Because as similar as you can be, you’re still a completely different person from who his late wife was. You’re someone strong and incredible and he genuinely wants you. But he can never really let himself be happy. 

It takes a few days for you both to ease up around the other. The incident in the bathroom is never brought up again. You take him shopping for clothes after a few days. It feels wrong to keep giving him Wade’s hand-me-downs. You would have had your friend take him, but you don’t trust Wade’s sense of fashion at all. 

After that and getting lunch together while you were out shopping things got a little easier. You bought him a bed for the spare room because you felt guilty seeing him all cramped up on your tiny couch. 

You don’t initiate any physical contact with each other. The closest you’d gotten was your hands brushing when you both reached for some popcorn at the same time on movie night. But you hadn’t really minded that bad. 

Eventually, he starts to feel like a real roommate and a friend. He lets little pieces of himself slip out. Slowly opens up about his past. You haven’t made any existential discoveries of course. But he tells you stories of what his X-Men were like. 

You try not to dance around the topic of his wife, you don’t want him to think you’re avoiding asking about her. But you also don’t want him to think you’re obsessed with discussing her. 

He’s right, you two weren’t carbon copies of each other at all. You might share a few things in common but the more both you and Logan learn about each other, the more clear it is how different you both are from your variants. 

Sometimes you think he looks at you like he’s really seeing you, not her. But you can never be sure and you don’t want to put much strength behind the thought in case you’re wrong. You hate the idea that when you’re thinking of nothing but him, he’s just seeing her reflection on your face. 

There’s nothing you can do about it but it doesn’t stop the hurt. 

Tonight, at Wade’s suggestion, you’re both up on the roof waiting for a meteor shower that you’re ninety percent sure is never going to happen. You’re also one hundred percent sure that Wade just tricked you out of your apartment so he could have sex in it. He and Vanessa don’t really get a lot of time alone with Blind Al around. You’re already mentally preparing for the absolute fuck storm you’re going to have to clean up after.  

There’s a light nudge on your shoulder and you glance over at Logan. He’s got the whiskey bottle outstretched towards you and you take it from him with a smile. One thing about being his roommate, your alcohol tolerance has skyrocketed. His liver might regenerate, but you’re pretty sure if you keep going down this route yours will give out in a few months. 

“Think this is actually going to happen?” You ask, pointing up toward the clear night sky. 

Logan chuckles and shakes his head. He stretches out in your flimsy lawn chair and you try not to let your gaze be drawn to the sliver of skin peeking out from his shirt. “Probably not, but I don’t mind being out here.”

There’s an unspoken, with you, that makes you smile. You meet his gaze, his eyes soft as he watches you. “Me either.” You lean back in your chair, pulling your legs up onto the seat and huddling under your blanket. “It’s peaceful.”

You drink together in silence for a little while longer. Then you have to tap out, you don’t want your brain getting too foggy. Tonight is nice, you want to remember it tomorrow. To your surprise, he caps the bottle and places it to the side. You don’t mention it but you do feel like you’ve noticed he’s been drinking a little less. The dark circles under his eyes seem to be easing away ever so slightly. 

He looks over at you with an odd light in his eyes. You shift uncomfortably under his stare when it lasts a little longer than it usually does. You chuckle awkwardly, “Do I have something on my face?”

There’s a soft uptick to his lips as he shakes his head. “No,” he mutters, looking back out at the night. “You mind if I ask you something?”

Ominous, but whatever. “Sure.”

He still doesn’t look at you and you worry slightly about whatever it is he’s going to ask. He doesn’t ease you into it all, “Wade said your brain was broken?” A laugh springs out of your throat from how brusque that was. He rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’ idiot mentioned it in the void, been wonderin’ about it.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him. You’re relaxed enough that you don’t mind answering. You don’t want to pop the soft bubble you’ve managed to create around each other. “Here,” you hold your hand out for the whiskey bottle. He gives you an apprehensive look before handing it over. 

You unscrew the cap, “This,” you say and point your hand at the glass. The liquid inside lifts into the air and you freeze it before dropping it back into the bottle with a splash, a simple little party trick. “This used to be enough to put me in a coma for two days. That’s what he meant. Something happened to me and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

Logan’s eyes widen and he shakes his head in disbelief. You laugh a little, “I assume your wife never had problems like that?”

There’s always a fond smile when you mention his wife. Whether the memory is bittersweet or not. “She wasn’t perfect, much as I thought so. When she used her powers too much she,” he trails off and looks down at the floor. You frown, ducking your head down so you can catch his gaze. 

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” you promise quietly.

But he shakes his head and gives you a weak, tight-lipped smile. “No, I want to. And I don’t want you to think you’re the only Flux who struggled. When she used her powers too much she would deteriorate. Parts of her would just disappear, I don’t even know how to describe it. They were destroying her from the inside out.”

You let out a low whistle, eyes widening slightly. “Well, maybe I didn't get the short end of the stick after all.” It’s quiet and for a moment you worry your humor was ill-timed. 

But he lets out a rough laugh, “No, I guess not.” He takes in a deep breath before looking back up at you. There’s no distant sadness in his eyes like there usually is when you bring her up. It seems to only be a familiar ache now, rather than something fresh and bleeding. “But what happened to you? Why couldn’t you use your powers?”

“Oh,” you look down at your lap, picking at the strings of your pants. It would be unfair to have him talk about his wife and then wimp out when it was your turn. 

“Um, There was this mission. A bunch of kids, mutants, were being held in this warehouse. It was actually pretty normal, just go in, retrieve them, and bring them back to safety. I must have done a dozen of these before, but, I don’t know. Something was this different this time around.”

You can still hear them screaming. In your mind, you hear the way they cried for help. And you see the look on your faces when they realize you can’t save them every time you go to sleep. 

You suck in a sharp breath and almost jump when his hand lands on yours. It’s gentle, he’s barely even touching you and he’s not even acknowledging what he’s doing. But you take his hand in yours and squeeze, it’s nice, grounding. 

“Long story short, they were heavily guarded and I was pretty drained from fighting off the guards. My powers were practically gone by the time we could even get to the kids. And, I don’t know, something must have gotten knocked over or hit the wrong way because smoke was filling the place and everything was on fire. I couldn’t see anything, couldn’t breathe, and the kids were blocked off. There was nothing we could do to get to them. Everyone kept screaming at me, telling me to just use my abilities and get them out of there. I couldn’t,” your voice gets thick and you look anywhere but at him. “I,” your mouth hangs open and you don’t know what you could possibly say. 

There’s no excuse for what happened. “I just couldn’t,” you whisper. You sniffle and your eyes flutter rapidly, trying to stop any tears from coming. “Hadn’t been able to use my powers since then. Trauma block or something, I guess,” you dismiss yourself flippantly and shrug. 

Logan just squeezes your hand again. He doesn’t seem to know what to say to comfort you and you’re honestly grateful for the silence. You get so sick of people telling you there was nothing you could have done. Or that the others should have helped you. Because that’s not a fucking excuse. There’s no fixing what happened, no giving those parents their children back. You fucked up and you don’t appreciate people giving you cop-outs. 

You keep your gaze trained steadily on the ground, eyes going blurry while you try to slip into the back of your mind. You don’t get the chance, though. Logan is kneeling in front of you, hands slipping up your arms to cup your face. 

He forces you to look at him, to stay present in the moment with him. “You fucked up,” he tells you. It's so shocking that you can’t help but let out a loud wet laugh. You sniffle and he grins, wiping the tears out from under your eyes. His grip on your cheeks tightens and he makes sure you’re listening as he speaks, “You fucked up, kid. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t try your fucking hardest. And it doesn’t erase all the people you did help.”

Your eyes search him, trying to find any kernel of untruth. Trying to prove to yourself that this isn’t real. That he isn’t real. You don’t deserve this moment of such unwavering trust and faith. This is meant for someone else, for someone who deserves good things in life. 

You’ve never truly believed you deserved happiness or peace like this. But right now you don’t care because he is saying everything you’ve ever wanted to hear. And he actually means it. 

Your hand drifts up, covering his and tilting your head to press a gentle kiss to his palm. It’s tentative, a test, a way to give him an out if doesn’t want this. His grip on you tightens for half a second before he shoots forward and claims your lips with his own. 

It escalates quickly. You practically melt off your chair, straddling his lap while he leans back on the ground. Your hands tug at his hair while he moves desperately over your body. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to do, where he wants to touch you. 

You love how fully his hands engulf you, the tight way they cradle you to his chest. You’ve never felt more secure in someone’s arms than you do right now. He’s got you, and he wants you. For you this time, you can tell. You can tell from the way he holds you that this isn’t a desperation born from grief. It’s something else, something you’re not ready to identify yet. 

His tongue laves across the seam of your lips, silently asking permission. You smile against the kiss, parting your lips and deepening it. He licks into you, tasting you with a low grunt in the back of his throat. You feel your hips start to move of their own volition. Gently grinding down against his lap. You moan when you feel just how bad he wants you. 

You lean back, parting from the kiss and pressing a finger to his chest to keep from following. You chuckle at his eagerness, grinding your hips down again and watching the way he thrusts up to meet your movement. “Didn’t know I was such a good kisser,” you tease. 

But he doesn’t return the joke or play along. His face falls slightly and he pulls further away from you, the look on his face distant. “What?” You whisper. “Do I have bad breath?” You joke, trying to keep the mood light. 

He shakes his head and runs a tired hand over his face. “No,” he mutters. He repeats the word more firmly and finally meets your gaze. “I think I need to take this slow, just because of…”

He trails off but you know what he means. His wife. You don’t know if he’s still projecting her onto you, you felt so sure he wasn’t earlier. But if every time you kiss he’s gonna pull back you’re not sure that you can do this. “Of course,” you mutter with a bite to your voice. It’s hard not to feel a little rejected every time he acts like this. 

You move to get off his lap but his hands clamp down on your hips and he shakes his head again. “You don’t have to get up.”

You hesitate, thighs still hovering over his. You should get up and put as much space between you as possible. But he’s so warm and you want to be held for a little while more. You nod and he looks relieved. You lean back down, pressing your chest against his and letting your head rest in the crook of his neck. 

He wraps a heavy arm around your back, keeping you close while the other reaches up to stroke your hair. It makes you feel small, in a good way. Like you can just relax and he’ll take care of you. 

“Goddamn,” he laughs a little and you sit up. He nods to the sky above and you turn around, gasping. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, “he wasn’t lying.” For once, Wade was telling the truth. Above you, it looks like the sky is falling. Glittering stars dart across the sky, streaks of blue following behind them. You grin, “It’s so beautiful.”

Logan keeps his eyes on you and nods, “Yeah, it is.”

“Ah, look, my favorite fuck buddies.”

”Wade,” you greet tightly. You shove the bottle of wine you brought into his chest and he stumbles back. “Just let us in, you freak.”

He frowns, placing a hand over his heart. “You know, it really hurts when you talk like that. I think we all need to hold hands and have a good old-fashioned jerk circle.”

You roll your eyes and flick his thick forehead. “It’s share circle, dumbass.”

”Not the way I do it,” he moves to the side and lets you both in. “Well, mi casa es su casa, especially since Vanessa and I had rockin’ sex in your bed last week.”

He walks off before you can hit him or even begin to respond to that. “I fucking knew it,” you hiss, glaring at his stupid Hawaiian shirt while he mingles with the rest of the people at the party. 

Logan chuckles behind you, “How did you two ever become friends?”

You roll your eyes and turn to face him. “I moved in next door,” you respond dryly. “This was a nonconsensual friendship because god hates me, clearly.” You shrug your jacket off and he takes it from you, hanging it up on the hook by the door. He comes back, slinging an arm around your shoulder, and leading you towards the kitchen. 

You hear Wade laughing loudly in the background and he grunts, “I’m gonna need a drink for this,” he mutters. You nod your head in agreement. You don’t get very far, though, because without any warning Wade is in front of you. He’s got his ridiculous dog in his arms and shoves her in your face. You grimace and jump back. Logan abandons you and you narrow your eyes at his retreating back. Traitor

Wade says your name with disappointment. “You know, Mary Puppins is a part of my life now. As my best friend, you need to bond with her. I can’t have you two fighting like this.” He shoves the dog into your arms without any warning and you flinch away from her wandering tongue. 

“If this thing licks me, I’m putting her down,” you warn him gravely. 

He gasps and snatches her back. “You are no longer welcome in my home,” he tells you with a snotty huff. You roll your eyes and watch him go. When he’s out of sight your lips curl up in a grin and you glance at Logan. 

He’s by the sink, making himself a drink and taking a deep swig straight out of the bottle. You creep up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smiles, hand coming down to gently hold your arm. “What’re you doing?”

”Come with me,” you whisper. You take his hand and lead him through the apartment. You both skirt around the partygoers, giving them vague greetings and waving them off when they give you odd looks. 

Logan leans down, lips brushing across your ear as he whispers, “Where are we going?” Your knees nearly give out when you hear that low tone of voice of his. You just shake your head and lead him down the hall. You can sniff out Wade’s room from the permeating stench of his axe body spray. 

You throw the door open and drag Logan inside behind you. His nose wrinkles up at the stiff socks littering the floor and the smell. Other than that, it’s relatively clean. You actually thought this would look so much worse. 

“Now,” Logan demands, “are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”

“Well,” you lock the door and turn around with a devious grin. “Seeing as Wade has ruined my favorite sheets, I feel like we need to get him back somehow.” You glance around the room, trying to figure out something of his you want to destroy. 

You don’t hear Logan moving towards you. You’re too busy rooting through Wade’s desk and trying to find something good to shred up.  All you’re seeing is increasingly more disturbing porno mags. He has got a serious problem with pegging. You briefly wonder if you should set up an intervention or something for him. 

You nearly yelp when Logan’s hands grip your shoulders, whipping you around to face him. “I’ve got an idea of what we can do.” That’s your only warning before his lips cover your own. You melt into him immediately, hands fisting his shirt and dragging him closer. He grins against your lips, lifting you and placing you on the edge of Wade’s desk. 

“Mm,” you moan but shove his chest back and shake your head. “Wait,” you hop off the desk and take a seat on Wade’s bed instead. “There’s no point in this if we’re not on the bed.”

Logan shakes his head with an amused huff. He walks towards you but instead of taking a seat on the bed next to you like you'd expected, he kneels before you. Your brows furrow together and you frown. “Wait, what’re you doing?”

He gives you a gentle smile, hands coming up to rub gently over your thighs. The warmth of his palms soothes you almost immediately. “You trust me?” He asks, voice a low rumble against your chest. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. He nods encouragingly and leans forward, kissing you gently. There’s nothing expectant in this kiss. He’s doing it just to be close to you. Then you feel his hands drifting higher, fingers running over the buttons of your jeans. Your lips part, ready to ask him a question. But he just takes the chance to dip his tongue into your mouth, eagerly tasting you. You moan into it, not protesting when he presses you back into the bed. 

His fingers dip under the waistband of your jeans. You lift your hips to help him tug them the rest of the way down until they’re dropping to the floor quietly. You have a million questions dancing on the tip of your tongue but you can’t find it in yourself to actually voice any of them. You don’t want to break the moment. This is the first time he’s seemed comfortable going further than kissing and some heavy petting. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. Your hips jolt as he runs a thumb over the wet spot on your panties. “All this just from kissing?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his tone. You feel your face flush, cheeks warming when you realize he’s never actually seen just how much he affects you. “Relax,” he tells you, squeezing your thighs once before slipping a few lithe fingers under the band of your panties. 

He tugs them down, but the second he sets eyes on you he gets too impatient to take them off the rest of the way. They dangle off one ankle while he lifts your thighs, setting them on his shoulder and dipping down to press a gentle kiss against you. You gasp at the contact, head tilting back while you instinctually grind your hips up against him. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve actually been with anyone and you already know you’re going to cum embarrassingly quick because he fucking devours you. You’ve had boyfriends who liked to eat you out before, but this is something completely different. 

He drags his tongue over you, sucking on your clit like it’s his only true joy in life. You can’t even make noises, your jaw hanging slack while you cant your hips higher. He groans when you grind against his face, shaking his head and flicking his nose across your bud. You nearly come from the sight of him smiling against your cunt alone. You feel it building slowly, and it’s like your powers are swelling up along with your release. 

Wade’s knicknacks are floating off the shelves, some of them rotating in the air, others fluctuating between liquid and solid forms. You can’t control yourself, you’re barely aware of the chaos happening in the room around you. You just feel a warmth at the tips of your toes, swelling over your body, making your skin feel too tight. There’s little to no warning when you cum. He dips his tongue inside you and you let out a long moan, drenching his face. 

The sheets are soaking wet underneath you and you know you’ve ruined his shirt. You’ve never come that hard before and you would reflect on that more if he wasn’t still fucking eating you out. You think your brain is going to melt out of your ears, you're so overwhelmed by all the different sensations.

He dips his tongue into you, dragging out your orgasm and drinking as much of you down as he can. Your hips keep twitching, you’d be thrashing out of his hands if it wasn’t for the near brushing grip he has on your hips. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you reach down, grabbing his hair at the roots and tugging. He groans at the feeling, barely leaning an inch back. “No more,” you whisper, chest heaving. 

He smiles, palms smoothing across the skin of your thighs, “You okay?” 

“Mhm,” you hum weakly. Your head falls back against the bed with a dull thunk and you struggle to catch your breath. “Holy shit, where did you learn to do that?” He doesn’t answer, just laughs. You jump slightly when he presses a tender kiss on your thigh, every part of you oversensitive. 

He moves slowly up your body, hands dragging your shirt up until he’s pulling it over your head. He cups your cheeks, letting you recover while he kisses your cheeks and face. You laugh slightly at the feeling of his beard tickling you. 

You pull back, meeting his gaze for a long drawn-out moment before you lean forward to finally kiss him back. You can feel yourself slowly coming back into your body. Your limbs tingle back to life while you lazily make out with him. 

His hands drift down your chest, squeezing your breasts. You laugh against his lips, arching into his touch. You reach back, unclipping your bra and throwing it off somewhere in the room. In the far reaches of your mind, you make a mental note to take that when you go. You don’t want to think about what Wade would do with it if he found it. 

Logan pulls back from you and your lips tip down at the serious look he wears. Your fingers trace the lines of his face and you tilt your head in question. “What’s wrong?” You whisper. You’re completely naked before him and he’s still clothed, you don’t want him to leave now. 

He can’t keep doing this to you. He can’t keep forcing you into these vulnerable positions and then leaving. There’s only so much rejection you can take before you start to resent him for it. 

He tilts his head down, gaze dragging across your body appreciatively. He’s looking at you like you’re art and it makes you feel like you should be in a museum somewhere. Finally, his hand drags down from your chest, wrapping around your waist and dragging you onto his lap. 

You brace your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He leans towards you, lips trailing lightly across your jaw. “You’re not her,” he whispers against your skin. Your mouth parts, a pained breath slipping through. You try to move back from him. You hadn’t expected something like that, not now, not when you thought you’d made so much progress together. 

To have you naked, vulnerable like this, and then say something like that to you. It was fucking despicable. You shove his shoulders back but he barely moves. You shift, trying to cover yourself and fighting off the urge to cry. Why won’t he let you go? Why does he keep doing this to you? 

He reaches out, snatching up your wrist before you can get far. “I don’t want you to be. I never wanted you to be her, I need you to know that.”

He tries to kiss you but you snatch his jaw in your hand before he can. You let your nails dig in until there’s red blooming under your fingertips. He hisses, but he’s not mad, you can feel how much he enjoys the little pinpricks of pain. 

“No more pulling away,” you warn. “I’m not playing this damn game with you anymore, Logan. You want me, then commit.” You release him with a shove and his pupils dilate with want. You appreciate the gentle way he’s been treating you, but you know you’re both holding back. 

He’s the first partner you’ve been with that can actually take what you give and vice versa. There’s something only mutants understand sometimes. You normally have to hold back, have to make sure you don’t scare a guy off by making the walls shake when you come. 

You push him down onto the bed. Hands sliding under the hem of his shirt and running over the grooves of his muscles. You haven’t had a chance to appreciate just how gorgeous his body is before, but nothing is holding you back now. 

You snap your fingers and the buttons rip open, he surges forward catching your lips with his while you both frantically push his shirt off. He throws it off to the side and his fingers fumble with his belt buckle while you trail kisses down his neck. You glance up at him for a second before biting down on a particularly sensitive spot. 

He groans, head rolling back while you grin against his skin. You make your way back to his lips. “Don’t hold back,” you tell him, trailing your hands down to his fists and running over the spots where the claws come out. 

“Sweetheart,” he starts tone apprehensive. You shake your head, shutting him up with a kiss. 

“Don’t. Hold. Back.”

It’s like a switch flipping. Even the way he looks at you changes. You’re not something to be cherished and adored. You feel like a deer pinned by a wolf. He’s got you in his clutches now and there’s a real possibility you might not survive this. 

He stands up, dropping you on the bed and dragging your hips off the edge. He doesn’t kick his jeans off, just lowers them enough for his cock to hang out. You’ll address the fact that he wasn’t wearing boxers later, you’re too worried about what’s hanging between his legs right now. 

You’re no virgin, but goddamn, there’s no way that’s going to fit. 

He laughs, the noise cruel and it makes shivers crawl down your spine. “We’ll make it work, kid.” He spreads your legs and you tilt your hips up, making it easier for him to just sip inside. 

There’s a slight stretch, but you’re already soaked for him. You’ve been waiting for this to happen since you walked in on him naked in your bathroom. “Oh, shit,” you toss your head back, taking in a deep breath while he pushes in. It feels like he’s rearranging your insides, molding you to fit him perfectly. 

You can already feel yourself clenching down, just being so close to him is enough to make that tingle in the tips of your toes start. He leans down, placing your legs over his elbows and rutting into you like a wild animal. There’s nothing gentle or slow about this. 

You’re both so pent-up, tired from the weeks of dancing around each other. Your nails drag up his back, blood following your movement. Your powers are actively surging against him, pain only driving you further into each other’s arms. 

You can hear his breathy grunts and groans in your ears and it’s music to you. Neither of you cares about the party going on just outside the door. You’re loud, skin slapping against skin while you loudly call out his name. 

God, you hope they hear you. Hope they realize just how thoroughly you’re wrecked for each other. You can feel yourself getting closer, hips stuttering against his while you struggle to match his pace. “Come on,” he mutters in your ear. He releases one of your legs to reach down and rub your clit. 

“Fuck,” you groan, reaching up and tugging at his hair while your back bows. It only takes a few more tight circles of his thumb before you’re spasming around him. He’s quick to follow behind you. 

He pins your hips to the bed, dropping your legs while he thrusts faster. He loses his rhythm, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as he cums inside you. It’s like a mini death, you feel like you’ve lost time when you finally manage to come back to yourself. 

And when you roll your head to the side you realize just how much damage you’ve done to Wade’s bed. “Shit,” You glance up at the sound of his voice and notice little droplets of blood on your hips. Logan’s claws are out, stuck in the fluff of the bed. 

You force the words out, tongue heavy in your mouth. “Do that often?”

“Not really,” he mutters. The claws retreat and he rubs his fingers over the blood. It’s not bad, you’ve honestly done worse to yourself. It’s like a big paper cut. When the rough pad of his fingers presses against the cut you hiss at the sting, nearly enjoying it. 

“Must be special,” you tell him with a cheeky grin. He shakes his head with a laugh and takes his time pulling out. You hate the loss of him inside you but it's a slight relief. He's larger than any partner you’ve ever had and it’s almost overwhelming to be so full. 

“Come on, let's get you dressed.” He pats your thighs, glancing around for your clothes. 

“Uh, Logan,” he looks up and you glance at his still very hard cock. “I thought you came?”

The smile he gives you is slightly terrifying. Because there’s a promise in it. He’s not getting you dressed for no reason. He’s taking you back to your apartment so you can have more fun where there are less people and fewer reminders of Wade. “Stamina's part of the deal, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you whisper, voice breathless in shock. You wipe the cum off your legs with Wade’s sheets. You feel like you’ve thoroughly gotten revenge on him for destroying your favorite bed set. Maybe, you’ve gone a little farther than revenge, though. 

You feel guilty, looking around the room and seeing everything you destroyed. Once you’re dressed, you wave your hand, putting most things back where they belong. But there’s nothing you can do about the bed. The sheets are soaked with a mixture of yours and Logan’s releases and there are six holes dug deep in the bed from his claws. 

When you step out of the room with Logan, struggling to press down your hair and get it back into place, Blind Al is waiting by the door. She’s doing a line off the back of her hand when you pass by. You think you’ve almost made it scott-free when she yells, “Man, I wish I couldn’t fucking hear,” at you. 

You tense up, shoulders to your ears while you run to the door. Logan laughs, grabbing your coat for you and pressing a hand to your back while he leads you to the apartment. “Weren’t feeling so embarrassed earlier,” he teases. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, dragging him into the apartment to finish what you couldn’t on Wade’s bed. 

You’ve managed to keep any holes out of your bed, you just have to use your powers to keep his at bay. It’s nice, not having to explain why everything around you is levitating to the person you’re having sex with. There were a lot of awkward conversations that came from that. 

You’re lying on Logan’s chest, fingers idly running over the veins in his biceps. “I want to be serious about this,” you tell him. 

His hand pauses from where it’d been stroking your back. You sit up on your elbow so you can get a better look at him. “I mean it, I,” there’s no way to say this without sounding like a complete bitch. You just have to rip the bandaid off. 

You take in a deep breath, “I know that you still miss her,” you say, unwilling to say her name. Logan sits up, looking more serious now. “But I don’t want to be with you if you think that I’m going to turn into her. Or if you think that I’m the last connection you have to her. I’m not her, Logan, and I'm never going to be her.”

You expect anger on his face or regret, maybe. But you don’t expect him to laugh at you. You roll your eyes, lips pursed while you wait for him to finish. He notices the pissy expression on your face and quiets down, but you still see a smile fighting on his lips. 

“I know you’re not her. You could not be more different” he tells you with a slight smirk, like there’s an inside joke you’re missing out on. “I was married to her for a long time and I loved her. But we had our time together. Now, I just want my time with you. You’re not her,” he leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “That’s why I want you.”

You feel your heart flutter in your chest and have to fight to keep a stupid grin off your face. “Okay,” you whisper. “Good, well as long as we’re on the same page,” you tell him, faux serious. He just rolls his eyes and pulls you back into his arms. 

You’re going to cuddle up beside him when you hear your phone going off like crazy on your nightstand. Your face pinches in confusion and you reach over to grab it. 

Wade

Did you fuckers have sex???

In my bed!!!!

And you didn’t invite me?!

….

Wade

Tell Logan I want his claws in me next

“Fuckin’ dumbass,” you mutter, throwing your phone somewhere on the bed. Logan laughs again, drawing you closer. 

a/n: i have a really weird tendency for masochism, idk what that’s about. I just feel like if you were having sex with this man, he’s taking you like a wild animal. also feel like I might be a one-hit wonder. the smut just wasn’t doing it for me this time guys nor was the angst, i’m disappointed in myself

I just don't think I did justice to his character in the movie, I might have made it too OOC/ if I did PLEASE let me know

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 ♡

[triflesandparsnips]

So I understand that there are Good Omens show fans who have never read Good Omens the book, and that makes me deeply sad because--

Like, there's so much depth to the story being told about humans and humanity and the choice between good and evil -- and how that's actually a false dichotomy whoooops -- WHILE ALSO not really being about Aziraphale and Crowley at all (who are, imo, basically there as embodiments of "Impressive Failures" for the purposes of Theme and also Plot).

BUT IF you want to know why I've shipped them since the book-- here's the moment it happened for wee teenage me:

Wednesday (before the end of the world)

So it's Warlock's birthday party. And there are all these children and security guards and also an angel doing magic tricks while a demon is disguised as a caterer. This bit is basically the same as the show, so hooray.

But as wee me understood the characters up to this point, they were still basically enemies who had been in the field together for way too long and knew each other's moves well enough for the same tempting/thwarting of one another to become kind of boring and repetitive and generally pointless-- particularly once they realized that they could, for instance, just live their (separate!) lives watching humans being weird (Crowley) and seeking various sensory stuff (Aziraphale) while doing the least work necessary to keep their respective bosses off their backs.

The Arrangement was borne not out of hiding a friendship or anything, but instead the realization that sometimes covering for one another would just... cut down on their total overall workload. They were, at best, employees of two different, competitive companies-- though in same kind of department, doing the same kind of work-- who discovered they liked to have lunch at the same deli and that their jobs were sometimes distressingly more similar than either was comfortable with.

SO ANYWAY. BACK TO THAT WEDNESDAY. They're not covering for one another with this whole Antichrist thing-- they're now actively collaborating, and they've acknowledged (mostly) that it's not to cut down on their individual workloads, but rather to preserve their identical-- but not shared (not yet)-- goals of Getting To Continue The Lives On Earth They've Grown To Enjoy.

But like-- still not friends. Not really.

Until Aziraphale fucks up a bit, Warlock accidentally gets hold of a security guard's weapon and starts waving it around, and:

Then someone threw some jelly at Warlock. The boy squeaked, and pulled the trigger of the gun. It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork. Aziraphale blinked. A thin stream of water squirted from the nozzle and soaked Crowley, who had been looking out the window, trying to see if there was a huge black dog in the garden. Aziraphale looked embarrassed. Then a cream cake hit him in the face.

My teenage brain exploded at this moment.

BECAUSE: there is no reason for Aziraphale to do that.

Work-wise: If he got shot, Crowley would get discorporated, but not die-- and anyway, it would happen in such a way that both of them could explain it away easily to their respective sides (and possibly even be commended for it!).

Collaboration-wise: If Crowley had been watching Aziraphale, and if he'd seen Aziraphale have the chance to change the gun but not do it-- then yeah, probably that would've been annoying enough to have warranted some chilly conversations once he came back topside, and therefore, Aziraphale choosing to save Crowley could've been a reasonable, logical choice to keep their working relationship on an even keel until they'd sorted out this Doomsday thing.

But Crowley was looking the other way.

Work-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and secret-collaboration-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and so it is, overall, really weird that Aziraphale saved him.

But his automatic reaction-- in a blink-- is to stop Crowley from getting shot. And he knows it's weird-- he feels embarrassed that his sudden, unthinking reaction is to save his "enemy".

And the final bit is just a couple paragraphs later:

With a gesture, Aziraphale turned the rest of the guns into water pistols as well, and walked out.

SO LOOK: He changed only the pistol about to shoot Crowley. His automatic reaction had nothing to do with saving a party full of humans, many of them children-- nothing to do with Heaven or Hell-- nothing to do with preserving the coworker he needs to stop Armageddon--

It was all to do with saving Crowley. Who may be the enemy, but he's Aziraphale's enemy. And another part of his life on Earth that he's doing all of this just to preserve.

Which may also be, for the first time, the moment he lets himself realize how important Crowley in particular is to him.

...and so anyway, that's how I started shipping these two immortal idiots, and one of many reasons why everyone should read the book.

[azzibuckets]

now that we don’t talk part 1 [paige bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you and paige break up and neither of you know how to move on properly with your life

a/n: decided to go for some angst again…didn’t really have an aim or a direction when writing this so not sure if i should turn this into a series or not ? lmk what yall think

word count: 1.5k

masterlist | next

The First Week

In the first week, Paige had fallen into her daily routine. Her moments of forgetfulness were instinctual; she’d laid a dollop of minty Crest toothpaste on her blue toothbrush before doing the same thing to your red one, leaving it hanging over the edge of the counter.

The first time she did it, she’d hadn’t even noticed. It was only when she’d turned her mouth to catch the water under the faucet that she’d spotted your toothbrush that she’d set up, ready with Crest, as if you’d pop in any moment to stick it in your mouth and start scrubbing. Paige had almost choked on the water she’d been gurgling, grief worming its way up her throat and making it hard to breathe.

Heaving, she’d stood over the sink, hand gripping both sides of the counter to support herself until her knuckles turned white. It took all her strength not to buckle over from the precipitous wave of agony that had collided into her with gut-wrenching speed.

But for some reason, Paige had stuck your toothbrush under the stream of water then placed it carefully back in its cup. And so she’d made the same mistake the day after. This time, when she realized what she’d done, it wasn’t the weight of sadness that compressed her lungs, but a brewing storm of fury. Her vision had gone red, and she’d grabbed the toothbrush and hurled it against the wall as hard as she could, with a strength that she didn’t even know that she’d still had. And this time, when Paige stared at the toothpaste dripping slowly down the wall, mocking her as it made a mess on the floor, the counter couldn’t save her. She’d succumbed to the force of her fury dragging her down, and had crumpled to the floor, sobs racking her body.

The First Month

Your room was dark, in almost sub-freezing temperatures with the windows wide open to welcome in the frosty, bone-chilling winter air that Connecticut was known for. The only light in the room came from the dim glow of your laptop screen, opened live to the UConn women’s basketball game playing live on ESPN.

At first, you’d attempted to be nonchalant whenever Paige sunk yet another basket with ease, making the crowd and commentators going feral as she celebrated with her signature moves. But as the game between UConn and Stanford got closer and closer, you couldn’t help but smile when Paige crossed over her defense, sending them flying to the floor and leaving her wide open to score yet another 3. It reminded you all too well of the Paige you’d met and fallen in love with, whose confidence on the court had made you start viewing her as more than just your teammate.

But any trace of smile on your face quickly vanished once you watched Paige’s post-game interview during the livestream. “You’ve had quite a run this season despite being out for most of your sophomore and junior year due to injury. Who would you like to thank for your unpredented comeback?”

“I’d like to thank God. He’s been with me through everything, given me trials to test my resilience. In fact, he’s made me stronger than ever.” Paige had paused. You’d recognized her hesitance; the way she nibbled her bottom lip, her mouth half open as she debated a response, the uncertainty in her eyes as they flickered. But she seemed to recover from any reluctance, and what she said next made your heart drop. “I’d also like to thank my girlfriend, Leslie.” She motioned to someone off camera, and soon the frame was filled with tousled brown hair and soft green eyes.

Paige pulled her in close, and your world spun as you watched Paige, your Paige, press her lips against the brunette. Your hands had reached up to tear your headphones off your head, unable to further listen to the claps and hoots of the crowd along with the cooing of the commentators without feeling the need to throw up. But before you could, Paige had started speaking again. Your hands froze. You hated yourself for it, but you had to listen.

“She’s been with me through everything, from freshman year to now. She was my number one supporter when I got injured.” She wrapped her arm around Leslie’s waist, staring intently at the camera, and never before had you been this sickened staring at the blue eyes you’d once adored, could’ve spent hours getting lost in. “But even outside of my injury, Les has been on my side. Especially with all the immature drama that happened on the court last year, she was really a clear voice in all of that. So I’m pretty grateful for her.”

Leslie’s mouth split into a grin, and she turned to pull Paige in for another kiss, and that was when you slammed your laptop so hard that when you opened it the next morning, you were surprised to see that the screen hadn’t shattered.

You were not someone who cried. Your family members, your friends, Paige could all attest to that. But the torment that was clawing its way through your body, threatening to suffocate you, finally exploded. Tears had surged from your eyes, seemingly never ending, and you’d cried so much that night that it suddenly made sense why you’d almost never cried before; it was like all the tears in your life had been pent up, waiting for this moment, for when the pin fell.

That night was the lowest you’d ever felt in your life, and possibly even the lowest you’ve ever acted - blinded by a jealous rage over the girl that Paige had always promised you not to worry about, the girl Paige was basically making out with on live television just one month after you guys had broken up (and when it’d taken her two years to show PDA with you), you’d gone on all your social media accounts and blocked Paige on every single one of them.

Then an idea came to you. An act of retaliation that would hurt Paige as much as she hurt you. So you’d reopened Twitter, unblocked Paige. You’d scrolled until you found the perfect tweet. Your thumb had hovered for a split second over the like button, haunted by images of Paige’s hand trailing your stomach, her hair brushing your eyes, her mouth on your neck, before it was violently replaced by the image of Paige locking lips with the brunette flooding your mind, causing you to jam your thumb down with ferocity on the like button. You’d slammed the final nail in the coffin by deleting the app so that you couldn’t go back and undo your action before word got around to Paige.

The First Year

You thought you knew grief. You thought you’d familiarized yourself with every aspect of mourning: the realization in the morning, when your eyes open and you lose the blissful state of dreaming and you’re confronted with the harsh truths of the world. Or the late nights, when you’re restless and can’t sleep because of jealousy plaguing your mind. Even the deep longing of missing someone’s touch so bad that you swear that you can almost almost smell their perfume.

So you thought you knew grief - until your grandma died. It had been a matter of time. She’d had breast cancer, and for years now the doctors had been saying any time. But that still didn’t prepare you for the overwhelming pain that consumed all your senses, making it hard to think or eat or sleep or even breathe.

The first few nights after you received the news, you stared at the ceiling, unblinking until the early hours of the morning when the sun started creeping up through your windows. But you couldn’t even cry; you felt like a broken faucet. What the fuck was wrong with you? Sobbing over your stupid ex that you’d broken up with an entire year ago, but unable to shed a tear for your grandma, the woman who had single-handedly raised you. You were exhausted to the point of no return. When would everything stop hurting?

You’d only torn your eyes from your ceiling when your phone had lit up. It was 4 AM, and you wondered who it could be. You checked your phone, and every part of your body froze when you read the notifications.

TWITTER

From: paigebueckers1

I’m so sorry

TWITTER

From: paigebueckers1

I just heard the news

TWITTER

From: paigebueckers1

Don’t know if you’re even active on here anymore but it’s the only way I could reach you. If you see this, I just want to ask you to not keep your grief to yourself. Isolating yourself won’t make the pain go away. Make sure to talk to someone

Your heart had ached, your phone trembling in your hand. Because Paige had cared enough to send you a message, on the same app where you’d given the tabloids a wet dream and caused the UConn fandom to go into a spiral by liking a hate tweet about Paige. She’d cared enough to disregard all that to make sure you were okay. But she still hadn’t cared enough to offer to be that someone that she wanted you to talk to so bad.

So you’d left her on read, without responding. Had slipped back into your sheets, your head pounding and your lungs aching. This time the tears fell out easily.

[lokilaufeysonslove]

𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐦!𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

// Summary // when Peter saves you from a dangerous situation, your adrenaline-fueled emotions lead to both, sad and a passionate moment.

// Warnings // kidnapping, trapping, kissing?

// Author’s Note // divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @buckypascal

MASTERLIST

You were in trouble. The kind of trouble that makes your heart race and your palms sweat. It was a dangerous situation that you never thought you'd find yourself in.

You were trapped, your heart racing as you struggled against the ropes that bound your hands and feet. The masked man stood before you, a sadistic smile on his face as he taunted you.

"Looks like your superhero boyfriend isn't coming to save you this time," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

But just as you were about to give up hope, the door burst open and in came Peter, dressed in his Spiderman suit.

"Let her go," he growled, his fists clenched in anger.

The masked man laughed, pulling out a knife and pressing it against your throat. "I don't think so, spidey. I've been waiting for this moment. The moment I finally get to kill someone close to you."

Peter's eyes widened in fear, but he didn't back down. "Let her go and take me instead."

The masked man hesitated, considering Peter's offer. But before he could make a move, Peter shot out a web and knocked the knife out of his hand and punched him hard in the face. You took the opportunity to break free from your restraints and run towards Peter, wrapping your arms around him in relief. The man stumbled back, not realizing that he was standing on the edge of the building. When he realized, it was already late. He couldn’t catch himself and fell down.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Peter's worried voice filled your ears as he set you down and checked you over for any injuries.

"I-I'm fine." you stammered, still in shock from the whole ordeal.

"Good. I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you," Peter said, looking at you with genuine concern in his eyes. "Come on, let's get you home," he said, scooping you up in his arms and swinging away, landing both of you on the ground.

The adrenaline slowly started to wear off and you began to feel the full weight of what had just happened. You couldn't stop shaking.

Peter noticed and stopped, turning to face you. "Hey, it's okay," he said, his voice soft and comforting. "You're safe now."

You couldn't hold back anymore and you wrapped your arms around Peter, burying your face in his chest as you sobbed. He held you tightly, rubbing your back in soothing circles.

"It's over now," he whispered, his words like a balm to your frazzled nerves.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you whispered, tears streaming down your face.

Peter tightened his grip on you, his heart still racing. You were standing like that for a solid five minutes. You had stopped crying a while ago, but you didn’t want to let go of him yet.

When you finally pulled away, you both looked into each other's eyes and in that moment, you both knew what you wanted.

Without a word, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, pouring all your pent-up emotions into the kiss. Peter responded eagerly, his hands roaming over your body as you deepened the kiss.

When you pulled away, panting for air, Peter looked at you “I'll always come to save you, no matter what," he said softly, kissing your temple.

[roturo]

✒ LOML ⋆⭒˚.⋆ (geto's version)

⋆⭒˚.⋆ sypnosis: You and Suguru Geto were once inseparable, bound by shared dreams and laughter. As time passed, the warmth of those days faded into distant echoes, leaving behind only the haunting traces of a love that once was. Feeling the touch of someone closer made you feel real again. But nothing lasts forever, right?

warnings: smut, unprocteted sex, angst, widow!reader, cult!geto suguru, mentions of ptsd, mentions of death, time passes, soulmate!geto suguru, reader x gojo satoru, mentions of past, let me know if i missed smt.

A/N: okay so, i just broke my back at dance but dw guys i just finished this request so i'll upload it, that means it’s npr— i dont know if yall will get my idea but i made a try, reblog and leave a comment for support !

The bell rang, reminding you how you felt once at the end of another day at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical School. Amid the crowd of other sorcerers streaming out of the classrooms, you and Suguru Geto stood out as high school sweethearts. You were inseparable, sharing laughs, secrets, and dreams of a future together. Your friends always snickered about when you would marry and have kids. Gojo claimed he would love to see a mini version of yourself and… well, his best friend.

Years passed, and true to the bets, you and Suguru were married in a small, intimate ceremony surrounded by friends and loved ones. The months that followed were filled with joy and love, building a life together that you had once only dreamed of.

But life has a way of taking unexpected turns. As Suguru delved deeper into the world of curses and his cursed technique, his views began to shift. He started to question the very fabric of the world, why he should risk his life to save his and yours, just because of some dumb curses humans create by bringing evil into this world.

"Suguru, what's happening to you?" you asked one evening, your voice stern with concern. He had been distant lately, his once warm eyes now cold and calculating.

"I'm becoming something greater," he replied, his tone flat and emotionless but his face was displaying a sophisticated smirk. "A savior for the sorcerers of this world."

"W-what do you mean?" you asked. "What about the plans we made before getting married?"

Suguru turned to you, a flicker of the old him flashing in his eyes at the memories before it disappeared with a tilt of his head to the side. "We were just kids, babe," he said, almost dismissively with a smile. "Those were dreams of a different time. Ever since I stopped relating to the jujutsu society and more with people of our kind, I finally understand the real meaning of this world and us in it."

“I don’t mind, it takes time, Suguru.”

“You and I went from one kiss to getting married and you think I wouldn’t do this for our world? Our kind? For us?!”

His words cut deep, a painful reminder of the widening chasm between you. Despite your attempts to reach him, Suguru continued down his dark path, growing more entangled in his cult and his delusions of grandeur. The man you had fallen in love with seemed to vanish, replaced by a stranger who saw himself as a legendary figure, destined to reshape the world.

One night, after another heated argument, you woke up startled from another bad dream. He stood before you, a shadow of his former self. "I'm doing this for us, for a better world," he insisted.

He used to think you were better safe than starry-eyed. But you have never felt aglow—never before and never since.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face unconsciously. "No, Suguru. You're doing this for yourself. You're not the man I married."

He paused, looking at you with a mixture of anger and sadness. "Maybe you're right. But it's too late to change now."

The anguish in his voice was almost too much to bear. You reached out, hoping to find a trace of the boy you once knew, but you couldn’t touch him, every time he felt even farther away from you.

"Suguru, please," you whispered, your voice breaking. "We can still fix this. We can go back to how things were."

He shook his head slowly. "No, we can't. We've come too far. But remember what I said last time? I will never let this get in the way of yo—of us. You’re the love of my life.”

His words echoed in the empty space between you, a final, bitter nail in the coffin of your once bright future. As you blinked and gained full consciousness after waking up, you felt a part of yourself break, knowing that the man you loved was lost to a darkness you couldn't understand or see.

And yet, here you were, standing alone in the ruins of what once was, clutching the shards of a dream that had shattered beyond repair. The emptiness inside you grew, consuming the remnants of hope you clung to, leaving behind an ache that seemed to echo in the hollow spaces of your heart.

He was gone, but his ghost lingered, a painful reminder of the love that was and the love that could never be again.

He wasn’t there anymore, was he?

Holy ghost, he told you he was the love of your life. 

About a million times.

Years later, as you stood alone in the quiet of your home, now a dorm back in the school buildings as you decided to work for those sorcerers who started feeling like your loved one, you reflected on the boy you had once loved and the man he had become. The memories of your high school days seemed like a distant dream, a time when you were just kids, full of hope and promise.

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Your breaths and moans mingled, hot and desperate, as Gojo's lips traced a path down your neck while humping his hard cock on the slippery sweet cunt of yours. His touch was familiar, yet foreign, as if you were trying to grasp a memory that slipped through your fingers like sand.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be swept away in the moment. You could feel Gojo's need in the way he whispered your name, like he was asking for permission for something, or… someone. His voice, usually so confident and teasing, held a whine that made your heart ache with a confusing blend of longing and sorrow.

His hands roamed over your body with a practiced ease, yet every touch felt like a plea, a silent question of whether this could ever be enough. His lips traced familiar paths down your neck and across your collarbone, igniting sparks that threatened to consume you whole. 

Once he finally thrust inside you, both of you moaned out loud and made you open your eyes with a blurry sight, contemplating his dark hair falling on your face while he moved within you. A feeling of completeness invaded your tummy as you whimpered when he touched that spot inside of you.

“Please,” you whispered, but it sounded like a desperate call to the ghost of your past. The reality of the present and the memory of the past blurred, creating a disorienting whirlpool of emotions. “I got it baby… just– Mhm-I”  The touch felt so good and… right. You lost yourself in the feeling as tears started drowning your eyes in a mix of emotions.

Gojo's grip tightened as he felt your tears, his whispered name of yours almost a chant, a plea wrapped in longing and regret. The confusion of your feelings deepened—did he really say your name?

You looked back at him, his cold but reassuring black purplish eyes invading the light coming from the lamp as it was the only thing that shined for you. The way his hair fell, the curve of his lips as he groaned, it all felt too familiar and too alien at once. Your climax and his were getting closer, moans escalating in volume as you both sought a release that felt more like an escape.

When your impressionist paintings of Heaven turned out to be fakes, it was as if the vibrant colors of your love had faded into a monochrome nightmare. You had been sold a get-love-quick scheme, and the ink bled into a mess of confusion and heartache.

As you finally reached your high with a shared kiss, Gojo cleaned you up in silence and gave you a water bottle. It was over. You lay there, entwined in Gojo’s arms, feeling his hair cover a part of his chest as you leaned down your head on it.

When you woke up, the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. You were naked, tangled in the sheets, Gojo's arm still draped over you. The events of the night before replayed in your mind, and the stark reality hit you like a punch to the gut. It hadn't been him; it was never him.

You had been digging up the past, trying to revive a love that was long dead. The realization washed over you, cold and unforgiving. You should've let it stay buried. The feelings you were trying to resurrect were entombed with the boy you once loved, and no amount of closeness with Gojo could bring them back to life.

The night had been a cruel reminder that some ghosts could never be laid to rest, and the void left by his absence was one that Gojo could never fill.

As you stared out at the morning light coming through the window, you knew that you had to find a way to move forward, even if it meant leaving the past behind. The touch of Gojo's arms around you, once comforting, now felt like chains binding you to memories you could never escape. The warmth of his body next to yours only highlighted the cold emptiness within, a void that grew larger with every passing moment.

The room, now bathed in the soft glow of dawn, felt like a cage. Each shadow seemed to whisper the name of the boy you had lost, each ray of light a painful reminder of a future that would never be. You could still feel the echo of his touch on your skin, a ghostly caress that lingered long after the night had ended.

Gojo stirred beside you, his arm tightening around your waist in a sleepy embrace. You glanced back at him, his serene expression a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. He had tried to fill the void, to be the light in your darkness, but the shadows of the past were too strong, too overwhelming.

You gently extricated yourself from his grasp, moving silently to avoid waking him. As you stood by the window, the first rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds, you felt a tear slip down your cheek. It was a tear for the love you had lost, for the boy who had once been your world, and for the man who now lay beside you, trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered heart.

The realization was stark and unforgiving: no matter how much you tried to move forward, the past would always be a part of you, a haunting reminder of what could have been. And as the morning light washed over you, you knew that the journey ahead would be long and painful, but it was a path you had to walk alone.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the window, determination settling in your heart. The ghosts of the past would always linger, but you had to find a way to live with them, to find peace in the midst of the storm. And maybe, just maybe, you would find a way to heal.

“Suguru,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “promise me something.”

Suguru’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun. “Anything,” he replied, his tone sincere and tender.

“Promise me you’ll never put anyone or anything above us,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “That we’ll always come first.”

Suguru took your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’ll never leave,” he said, his voice unwavering. “Nothing and no one will ever come between us. You’re my everything.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, his words wrapping around your heart like a protective shield. His lips curved into a gentle smile, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I promise,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here for you. We’re in this together.”

The moment felt eternal, a promise etched in the quiet of the twilight. As you nestled against him, the world outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the certainty of Suguru’s words and the warmth of his embrace. You closed your eyes, letting the peaceful promise settle deep within you, trusting that no matter what challenges lay ahead, his commitment would remain steadfast.

In that perfect, fleeting moment, you believed with all your heart that Suguru’s promise was unbreakable.

The memories of his promises, once a source of solace, now felt like daggers, each one twisting deeper into your heart. “I’ll never leave,” he had promised. And yet, here you were, alone, with the emptiness where his presence used to be. The truth was inescapable: Suguru had left, and his promises had been nothing more than comforting words, hollow and unfulfilled.

The room seemed to close in on you, the silence amplifying the ache in your chest. You could still feel the ghost of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, but it was all a cruel illusion, a mirage that had vanished with his departure. “Never mind,” you said to yourself in a breathless chuckle, trying to hide the pain your chest felt, the realization hitting you with a cold, harsh clarity. All those promises were just words—a fleeting comfort that had crumbled to dust.

You buried your face in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks, each one a testament to the love you had lost. The future you had once envisioned with Suguru was nothing more than a shattered dream, a vision that had dissolved into the stark reality of his absence.

The pain was almost unbearable, the weight of his betrayal settling heavily on your shoulders. You had been left to pick up the pieces, to grapple with the knowledge that the love you had cherished was now a ghost of the past. And as the darkness of the room closed in around you, you knew that the journey to heal from this loss would be long and fraught with heartache.

In the silence of the night, you felt the full force of Suguru’s absence, a painful truth settled within you with the weight of an unbearable burden. “Shit,” you whispered to the empty room, the words trembling on your lips as if they carried the weight of a thousand broken dreams. The room seemed to absorb your sorrow, its silence amplifying the ache in your heart. Each breath felt labored, the air thick with the heavy, oppressive realization of Suguru’s absence.

The absence of his presence was like a gaping wound that no amount of time or consolation could ever heal. His laughter, once so familiar and comforting, was now a distant echo that haunted the corners of your mind. The love you had cherished, so vibrant and full of promise, was now a ghostly whisper, a reminder of what once was but could never be again. The memories, once a source of warmth, now felt like cold, unyielding shadows that only deepened the chasm within you.

The pain was almost unbearable, each moment a torment as you faced the stark reality of Suguru’s departure. The void he left behind was a vast and insurmountable chasm, a darkness that seemed to stretch on endlessly. It was a wound so profound that no amount of time or effort could ever hope to mend it. You tried to imagine a future without him, but every thought seemed to fall short, every hope tarnished by the cruel reality of his absence.

No matter how hard you tried, you knew that the echoes of your shared past would never fully fade. The journey ahead would be marked by the persistent shadow of what you had lost. Each step forward felt weighed down by the remnants of Suguru’s memory, a constant reminder of the love that had slipped through your fingers like sand. The future you once envisioned, full of hope and promise, was now a mirage, forever out of reach.

As the darkness of the room closed in around you, you felt the full force of Suguru’s absence. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the warmth and intimacy that once defined your life together. The realization that the loss of him was a scar that would remain with you forever settled heavily upon you. It was a mark that no amount of time or healing could ever truly erase, a reminder that some wounds are too deep, too profound, to ever be fully healed.

In the quiet of the night, with the shadows stretching long and dark, you felt the weight of Suguru’s absence more acutely than ever. The pain was a constant companion, a relentless reminder of the love that had once been your everything but was now a haunting, unending loss. The room, filled with the echoes of what once was, bore witness to the depth of your grief, a silent testament to the enduring impact of Suguru’s departure on your heart and soul.

And as you sat in the suffocating silence, grappling with the emptiness that had consumed your world, you could only utter one final, heart-wrenching truth: “You’re the loss of my life.”

[oncasette]

FANGTASIA. send in a character from my guide + one of the prompts below for a drabble!

how about... "you shouldn't have touched them. every single mark on their body is going to be returned to yours." wiiith our mans eric northman!

please, thank you, love youuu!!! 🩵🩵

𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗𝗡'𝗧 𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞

eric northman x fem!reader

summary: 1.3k

You’d had vampire blood. Pam and Chow had been gracious enough to offer you their wrists months after you’d started working at Fangtasia, a safety precaution as they’d claimed. You'd had Eric's blood. He could feel your fear, he knew where you were, why wasn't he coming?

or the one where eric saves you from an anti-vampire rights enthusiast.

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, death, kidnapping, stabbing

a/n: i know i said drabbles but i couldn't contain myself. i am violently ill with my love for this man.

masterlist | taglist

You think you're dying. surely. There's no way the human body would be able to endure this much pain without ultimately giving up the ghost, right? 

You never should have gotten involved with vampires. They were nothing but a bucket of trouble, as your mother would have put it. And has she had put it, a multitude of times, before she'd ever even known you'd applied to work at Shreveport's resident vampire bar. 

What she didn't know, though, was how incredible they could be. How, even without all their supernatural abilities, intensely good they could be when they decided they wanted. How loyal and caring and kind when they chose to do so. Just how beautiful they could be, fangs and all. 

‘Course, there still was that whole bucket of trouble thing. 

"You sure are pretty for a fangbanger," your captor drawled from where he was watching you from across the room. He'd tied you to a chair at the center of it, thick scratchy ropes binding your wrists to the unlaquered wood beneath you. You spit, knowing that it won't reach the man from this distance, but hoping, almost willing it to hit him squarely between the eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you say.

“Ooh,” he whistles. “You’ve sure got a mouth on you, sweet cheeks. Why waste it on one of those dead fuckers when you could have someone with an actual, bleeding fucking heart?”

“You’re a waste of skin, you piece of shit,” you huff. Not that it was any of his goddamn business, anyway, but you had only ever slept with one man, and it sure as shit hadn’t been one of your bosses.

“Aw, c’mon. I bet you get so cold after one of them vampers is inside you, don’t you. All icy and chilly like. Let me give you a little tip, sweetheart. Humans. Need. Warmth.”

“You say that as if you aren’t a fucking sad sack,” you say. “What a sorry excuse for a human, huh?”

“What’d they do to you, huh, girl? Did they glamor you into only wanting a dead man’s dick?” he asks, slowly shifting and standing from his stool so that he could approach you. Despite their constant–and half-hearted–threats, you’d never been glamored by your vampire coworkers. Your breathing shakes as he approaches in swift steps. It’s then that you see the knife in his hand. 

For the first time in a long time, you realize, genuine fear strikes through you. 

“I’m gonna teach those vampers a lesson,” he says. “And you’re going to help me do that.”

You’d had vampire blood. Pam and Chow had been gracious enough to offer you their wrists months after you’d started working at Fangtasia, a safety precaution as they’d claimed. You'd had Eric's blood. He could feel your fear, he knew where you were, why wasn't he coming?

The knife trails along your collarbone. You're glad it was as dull as it was, knowing if it'd been sharper it would be slicing the skin open in its path down. Then he presses down harder. You can’t muffle the whine as it escapes you, no matter how much you want to. No matter how desperately you wish to not show the man that he holds any power over you. You can feel the blood seeping out of the wound. It dribbles down your chest in a thick stream as it pools and stains the gray cotton of your t-shirt.

“Stop!” you plead. He chuckles before driving the blade deeper into you. With feeble force, you try to get him off with a stunted kick to his knee; It was all you could manage with the way your knees had been duct-taped together. 

“Bitch!” he heaves before rearing back to slap you with the bladeless hand. It slashes your cheek, shallowly, thankfully, but you can feel the ache of where his hand had connected with your cheekbone. “You’re gonna regret that.”

He takes the knife and stabs it into your side, just narrowly missing your ribcage. 

Before you can manage out even a wince, the door to the small shack you’d been held in for the last few hours splinters and it unceremoniously removed from its hinges. 

Eric says nothing as he rushes in. You barely register that it’s him save for the split second image you’d captured from where he’d lingered in the doorway. Your captor is off of you instantly, though you’re still bound to the chair. Eric stills. Wind warps around him as he does so, wrapping him in a flurry of movement as he stands with the man locked in his grasp. 

“You never should have fucking touched her,” Eric growls with his fangs fully extended, grip tightening around the burly man’s neck and raising him inches off the ground. There’s not even a hint of the usual smirk you were so accustomed to seeing. “Every single mark on her body will be returned unto you tenfold.”

“She fucking deserved it,” he gargles as the vampire latches onto the expanse of neck not currently held within his hand. The man screams out in anguish and you pull your eyes tight to avoid watching any more. Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hearing. The screams and the rips and the crunches. You hear something hard and solid hit the floor and somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach you know it’s bone. 

You hear the man gasp out a dead fuck only for Eric’s grasp to tighten fully, effectively severing the man’s skull from his spinal chord without detaching it from his body. The man drops to the floor with a loud thump and Eric shoves the corpse away with the toe of his shoe before he moves toward you. 

“What took you so long?” you exhaled as he moved behind you to unbind your wrists. 

“I was away on business,” he gruffs, spitting slightly to get the last of the man’s blood out of his mouth. He’d already drunk his fair share, you thought, what good what that do?

Swallowing, you ask, “And you still came?”

He walks back around to begin undoing the restraints on your legs. He’s being so gentle, you realize. If he’d wanted, he could have had this done within seconds and yet, here he was, tenderly undoing the tape and rope and rubbing a soothing hand over the abraded skin. 

“I’ll always come for you,” he says. “Until I meet the true death, I will always come for you.”

He extends his wrist up to his mouth and you wince as he punctures the flesh. 

“Eric,” you sigh. 

“Drink,” he says. 

Nodding, you allow him to bring his wrist to your mouth and latch down on the leaking wound. It’s tangy and metallic and overall pretty gross, but you’re more than grateful for it at that moment. You lick your lips when he pulls his arm back down, the small bite marks already well on their way to closing completely. 

“Will you take me home?” you ask, suddenly overwhelmed with the wave of fatigue hitting you. 

He rises back to his full height and extends a hand out towards you. The second you grab it, he’s pulling you up from your chair to hold you flush against his form. Then, in another rush of wind, you’re standing on your front porch. 

Slowly, you pull away from the vampire to take a step towards your door. Your body aches, but it’s already mostly healed as you run a hand over the small incision at your waist. 

“Thank you,” you say. “Eric.”

He’s silent, looking you over in a way that you can’t help but think is more than just an assessment of your injuries. He settles on your eyes when he says, “Anytime.”

[scarlethexelove]

I Did

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2261

Warnings: Mentions of torture, scars, mean tony. Nothing much else.

A/n: I want to give credit to Dolls.mcu.editz on tiktok where I saw the edit that gave me this idea. So after asking for a poll of who this should be with I made this. Starts a bit angsty but it is super fluffy at the end. Soft Natasha and Wanda 🥰 Hope you all enjoy.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You sit in the meeting room surrounded by all of the Avengers. On either side of you are Natasha and Wanda, your girlfriends. The conversation that is happening is making you uncomfortable to say the least. They are all talking about what is to be done if one of you is captured and possibly tortured by hydra or another entity. What would be protocols and procedures that need to be followed during and after the event. You’re quiet throughout and don’t add anything. Tony notices this and doesn’t appreciate that you are not contributing to the conversation. 

“Y/n do you have anything to add?” Tony questions a bit of malice in his words. “I would rather not.” You reply, sinking more into your seat. Wanda placing a hand on your thigh in comfort. “You always have something to add so why don’t you actually contribute to the discussion.” He pushes. You scoff and look him dead in the eye. “You would not hold up well under torture.” You calmly spoke back to him. “Oh and you would?” He raises his voice. “I did!” You just about yell back to him. 

Tony pauses a moment. Tears shine in your eyes as memories flash in your mind reminding you how you even got here. You don’t notice the sad looks around you from your fellow avengers. “Y/n I didn’t mean-” Tony is cut off by you. “Save it.” You mumble as you push your seat back and quickly make your way out of the room. Your ears ringing with the memories of your life before. You can’t even hear that people are calling after you. 

Tears start to stream down your face as you quickly keep walking. You feel a burning sensation in your skin as you become overwhelmed. The scars that scatter your body make it feel as if they are open wounds again. The pain and memories still flood in as your body moves on autopilot back to your room. 

Natasha and Wanda quickly rise and try to start following you. “Where do you think you are going? We aren’t done with setting these protocols.” Tony quickly jumps back in as your girlfriends try to go after you. Both of them turn around specks of red swirling in Wanda’s eyes as Natasha clenches her fist. “We are going to see if our girlfriend is ok. I don’t really care what you have to say right now.” Natasha spits back her anger with the man clear to everyone in the room. 

“You can check on her later. We need to get these set.” Tony still protests. Natasha slams her hands on the table, a small crack forming where her hands hit the glass table. “Listen here tin man you insulted our girlfriend. I don’t care what you decide, we are going to comfort her.” The room is tense as there is a staring contest between the two. “Well she started it.” He comes back still trying to defend himself when everyone in the room believes him to be in the wrong. 

Wanda tilts her head and red swirls in her hand. “Tony, you have no clue what she has been through. You may have been captured and held but you were never tortured. Natasha was raised and trained as an assassin against her will. Bucky was taken and experimented on as they constantly brainwashed him. I was experimented on and locked in a cell.” Wanda seethes, pointing towards the living quarters. “But she was experimented on, locked in rooms, tortured for days on end. Cut up just for fun, you have no fucking clue. So if you will excuse me we are leaving and you can fuck off.” Wanda grabs Natasha’s hand and they walk out of the room. Everyone in the room is left in show of the revelation. The only other person who is not shocked is Bucky, your best friend.

The two hear arguing ensue as they walk away towards your shared bedroom. They lightly knock on the door to not scare you but they hear no movement so they slowly open the door. They slowly enter the room but don’t see you but they see the bathroom door open. Light shines out and the sound of water pelting the tile floor is heard. “Detka.” Wanda calls out for you as they make their way into the bathroom but hear no response. 

Wanda and Natasha enter the bathroom, their eyes landing on your form sitting in the shower, your knees pulled tightly to your chest. You're still in your clothes and shoes as the water beats down on you. Natasha quickly moves to you going around you to your right side crocheting down as the water hits her. Wanda moving to your left side. They give each other a look and look back to you. You’re staring off into space, your body slightly rocking. Both women know that sometimes in stressful times your mind plays back what happened to you. Not just your mind but your body has a physical reaction. 

“Detka can I touch you?” Natasha asks. You don’t respond. She slowly reaches out for you and gently touches your arm. You jump lightly to the contact and she pulls back, but then you give a small nod for her to continue. She reaches out again and places her hand on your back gently rubbing comforting circles. “Detka may I?” Wanda asks and you also give her a nod. She smiles and follows Natasha’s lead. 

“What can we do to help sweetheart?” Wanda asks you. You finally look over to her and she can see past the water that trails down your face that you are crying, your eyes red and puffy. You open your mouth trying to speak but nothing comes out. Your eyes telling Wanda what you want her to do. “Are you sure detka?” She questions before proceeding. You lightly nod at her. She smiles. “Okay.”

Her hand goes to your head as red fills her eyes and red whisps come from her fingers. She lets what words you can’t say fill her mind before pulling her hand back, her eyes turning back to their beautiful shade of green. She gives you a soft smile and small nod. She then looks up to Natasha who is watching the interaction. 

“Her scars are burning and her clothes are overwhelming.” Natasha nods at Wanda’s words. They both work together taking off your shirt as you raise your arms. Natasha then moves in front of you. She takes off your shoes and socks, tossing them into the bathroom to deal with later. Wanda has removed your undershirt and bra tossing it with the rest. Working together again they work to remove your pants and underwear. You lift your hips to make it slightly easier on them. 

Wanda gently runs her hand down your arm. “Do you want me to try and help?” She gently asks you. “Please.” You mumble lightly. She kisses your head. “Of course. Which ones hurt?” She asks you. “Big ones.” You tell her. She knows which ones you mean. Her hand going to your left side the scar runs from just under your breast down to your mid thigh. Red comes from her fingers as it seeps down into the scar. The burn slowly fades as you feel her magic calming the nerves. Her hand moves to your right shoulder covered in a large burn scar repeating her action. She then moves to your left thigh a large circular scar doing as she has done with the other two. Your nerves calming as the burning and pain disappear. “Better?” She asks you.

You give her a nod. “Thank you.” You tell her finally, letting your body relax as you lean into Natasha. Her arms wrap around you. “No need to thank me detka.” Wanda leans in kissing your forehead. 

“Do you want to get cleaned up in the shower and get in bed?” Natasha asks you. “Mhmm.” Your reply comes in a hum. So that is what you all do. They help you up before they take off their clothes. Throwing them into the pile already on the floor. Gently washing your body and hair. 

You love the close moments with your girlfriends. Nothing sexual about it, it is just full of love and caring as they take care of you. They quickly clean themselves before helping you out of the shower. Since you have already been sensitive and overwhelmed Wanda uses her magic to dry you three off. The feeling of her warm magic eloping you and calming your nerves even more. 

Natasha picks you up. Your legs wrap around her waist and you bury your head in her neck as she carries you to bed. “My strong and tough super soldier.” Natasha chuckles as you whine into her neck. Which just causes her to chuckle more and you to poke at her side. “Heyyy.” She says. Wanda giggling at your two antics. 

 Wanda walks around to the other side getting into the bed. She moves the covers and opens her arms as Natasha places you into Wanda’s open arms. You instantly wrap around her and lay your head on your chest. Natasha crawls into the bed behind you wrapping her arms around your waist and cuddling into your back. She places small light kisses on your shoulder causing you to smile. Wanda then peppering your face with kisses which then causes you to giggle. 

“There is my sweet girl.” Wanda smiles down at you as you nuzzle into her chest. The room becomes silent as you relax into your girlfriends. The skin to skin contact is doing wonders for you. Letting you feel a closeness that you wouldn’t get with clothes on. 

Natasha kisses your shoulder again. “Marry me?” Natasha breaks the silence in the room. You look up to Wanda before turning to look at Natasha. Not sure if this is just in the heat of the moment or a true proposal. Natasha smiles before letting go of your turn and reaching into the drawer of her bedside table. She pulls out two small velvet boxes. “Wanda Maximoff and Y/n Y/l/n will you two do me the honor of becoming my wifes?” Natasha asks opening the boxes to show off two gorgeous rings. Each of them is set in silver with a beautiful garnet as the center stone and surrounded by smaller black diamonds. You can’t help but cry in happiness as you and Wanda answer in unison. “Yes!”

The three of you are now crying, happy to be taking a step forward in your relationship. “I was planning to do some crazy romantic gesture for you two but this moment just seemed too perfect to pass. I wanted you two to know how much I love you and that I would fight to the ends of the earth to keep you safe.” Natasha says through happy tears as you and Wanda cry harder. She places the rings on your fingers. 

You kiss Natasha hard and filled with love before pulling back and kissing Wanda. Wanda then leans over you and gives Natasha a kiss. Wanda then chuckles and shakes her head a bit. “What?” Natasha asks. Wanda says nothing as she gets up and walks towards the dresser and opens her sock drawer. You whine when her body heat leaves you. “I’ll be right back detka.” Wanda chuckles. 

You can’t see what she grabs as she turns and hides what she has behind her back. She walks back to the bed and climbs back in next to you. “Great minds think alike I guess.” Wanda says, pulling two more velvet boxes from behind her back. She opens them revealing similar rings that have a ruby at its center and diamonds surrounding it.  

Natasha behind you chuckles. “I guess so.” She says. “So Natasha Romanoff and Y/n Y/l/n will you marry me?” Wanda asks. You and Natasha laugh before saying yes to her. Wanda places one ring on Natasha’s finger the other she holds out for you not exactly knowing what to do with it since you have one on already. “I can wear both.” You proudly say before putting it above the other one. “Y/n/n that isn’t going to work.” Natasha laughs at your antics. 

“Wait, I have an idea.” Wanda gets back up and goes over to her jewelry box. You hear her digging through before pulling something out. She walks back to you and holds out her hand. You place the ring in her hand. She then reveals a necklace. She puts the ring on the necklace before motioning for you to turn. You turn around and Wanda secures the chain holding the ring around your neck. You smiled, placing your hand on the ring before turning back and kissing her again. 

As the excitement wears down a bit you three settle back into the bed relaxing. “I love you both so much and can’t wait to be your wife and for you two to be mine.” You say snuggled between the woman. “We love you too.” Both women say at the same time and kiss each of your cheeks. 

This day turned from a horrible day of overwhelming panic and pain into one of the best days of your life and you couldn’t be more happy than to be alive in this moment. Holding onto the loving memory forever and excited for what your future will hold.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 5 part 6 thoughts!!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 6 OF THE MAIN STORY!!***

If you’d like to watch a rough part-by-part summarized translation, please check out this archived stream!

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

Ew, we're starting off with another map segment... TWST REALLY WANTS TO TIMEGATE OUR TEARS, HUH

Yuu and gang are going to follow the night fae soldiers to Black Scale Castle beyond the mountains. They can't stay too far from the owner of the dream, Lilia! (If you'll remember, they're now taking Tamago-sama there for safety while Meleanor stays behind to fight the Silver Owls.)

Silver hasn't seen Sebek use his UM??? Sebek tells us he learned his UM when Silver got into NRC and Sebek was training by himself. He wanted to be able to rush to Malleus's side at a moment's notice. He knows it is able to turn his own body into lightning and then can use it to move and to attack. However, the spell will damage his body while using it since he has yet to reach mastery. Sebek can't use his magic to rush to Lilia and the others because he wouldn't be able to fight by the time he does.

... ISN'T HIS UM SIMILAR TO ROLLO'S.... JUST TRADE FIRE FOR LIGHTNING...

AW, SEBEK WASN'T PLANNING ON USING HIS SPELL UNTIL HE MASTERED IT... BUT HE STILL USED IT TO SAVE SILVER 😭

Oh, they finally asked the question we were all having. If Malleus made this dream with the intention of it being a happy ending, then why do only sad things happen in Lilia's dream??? Also, why did OB Malleus not come after them yet or kick them out of the dream??? Maybe there's a reason why Malleus can't supervise or enter Lilia's dream??

BAUL LEFT THEM MAGIC TO GUIDE THEM THE RIGHT WAY... HE TRUSTS US TO HELP THEM NOW

Baul fights with an axe. IS HE ABOUT TO HAND IT OVER TO SEBEK (Sebek seems to be holding one in his limited time card)????

Lilia "I won't forgive you if you die!" Vanrouge.

Not both grandpa and grandson volunteering to stay behind to fight and then catch up later... Sebek tells Silver to go ahead and protect Lilia, "You go and protect what is most precious to you. I'm going to protect what is precious to me," (Sebek about Baul) 😭 The night fae are so confused why a human would willingly help them... THI S IS SEBEK'S CHARACTER ARC

SEBEK PROVES HIMSELF A CAPABLE FIGHTER TO HIS GRANDPA!! His hair gets all messy like what's shown in his new SSR. It's raining as well (like in the card art), so this is likely the context for the illustration. The groovy artwork is of Sebek being knighted!!!

adgkuvaodv8yfefvyyeft8wen Sebek makes a big speech about wanting to be their strength!! BAUL ACKNOWLEDGES SEBEK BY NAME INSTEAD OF "HUMAN" AND GRANTS HIM A SOLDIER'S UNIFORM, SEBEK'S BEING OFFICIALLY KNIGHTED FOR THE BRIAR COUNTRY'S IMPERIAL GUARD AND GIVEN A NEW WEAPON... BAUL EVEN GIVES SEBEK HIS OWN CROCODILE MASK

Zigvolt family lore!! Baul doesn't get along with his human son-in-law, but never distanced himself from his grandchildren. When Baul's only daughter wanted to marry a human, they argued so much about it. To this day, he still doesn't particularly care for humans. Even so, Baul's house has a lot of storybooks and candy prepared for his mixed grandchildren. He won't open them warmly, but it's clear he loves his family.

Silver saves Lilia!! And then Lilia asks Silver to take the egg to Black Scale Castle in his place. There are too many human soldiers on their trail, and Lilia cannot fight them while holding the egg (plus he's already injured from previously protecting Silver at the easternmost fortress).

Yuu has to hold Tamago-sama...

Silver proceeds to carry Lilia like a baby in spite of Lilia saying he'd stay behind and distract the Silver Owls 🤡 NOT SILVER USING LILIA'S OWN TEACHINGS TO TELL DREAM!LILIA THEY STILL HAVE TO TRY AND SURVIVE

The mountains are called the "Forbidden Mountains" and it is said that this is where Maleficent once lived. If you are not blessed by the dragons, the lightning (according to legend) will strike you down. Beyond the mountain is Briar Country's capital city and Black Scale Castle.

Surprisingly, Silver suggests an ambush method (hide and strike at soldiers from behind when they've let their guard down). I guess NRC really did teach him how to be backhanded after all/j

Silver says maybe Malleus can't follow them since he wasn't born yet in Lilia's dream. Magic relies on imagination, and since Malleus cannot imagine what life was like before he was born... that's probably why he can't monitor these circumstances.

Would you look at that 💀 The first real time the story acknowledges that Yuu is in bodily danger; Silver Owls shoot arrows at Yuu because they're holding the egg. Grimmu protects us!! Baby... Best buddy...

SEBEK ARRIVING TO SAVE SILVER (aksldnbaksdbaydasl lol at Sebek being smug about his knighting and trying to act cool even though the lightning is definitely still hurting him...)

Silver Owls retreat!

Oh wow, so they see creeping black thorns similar to when Malleus OB'd; everyone suspects that maybe Meleanor Overblotted too.

Silver mentions that he lives near the Forbidden Mountains but has never climbed them before. The rocks there are very sharp and dangerously jut out. AW, Lilia gives Silver and Yuu his cloak to protect them from the rain and cold. Lilia says the mountain range is full of magic, so its restorative to fae, who draw power from nature.

The way they came from was sealed off by rocks... but Lilia fully intends to go back and help Meleanor...

THEY MADE IT TO THE CASTLE!! It's called Maleficia's castle; we have an official English spelling for Granny Draconia's name. Something, something, Lilia wants to prepare something called the "Cradle Tower".

WE CUT BACK TO WILD ROSE CASTLE

Like father, like son... The Dawn Knight seems remorseful and wonders where they went wrong, if everyone could have been friends if they had chosen some other way. He wants to dream of a world where all races can live together in peace. "One day, it won't be just a dream, it will be reality." It's phrased very similarly to the wish Lilia made in Wish Upon a Star!

The stormy weather clears up and the dawn makes way... IT'S A SIGN THAT THE DAWN KNIGHT PREVAILED AND MELEANOA'S MAGIC HAS DISAPPEARED... Lilia just lets out the most guttural cries... He says if he were stronger, he would have taken Meleanoa with him against her will, HE WASN'T ABLE TO KEEP HIS PROMISE TO PROTECT MELEANOR FOR HIM

I still want to see Mallemom's on-screen death though.

Side note: they force us to play through a scripted loss battle between the Dawn Knight and Meleanor 💀 Sick fucks on the dev team…

This is delicious content :)))))))) We're eatin' well, boiz

Uhhh okay so there are greenish spirits floating around; they're the senate??? Apparently they've already died but their spirits linger and serve as advisors.

… Idk why doesn’t Mallemom do this too???

NAUR, NOT THE SENATE BLAMING AND SHAMING LILIA, SAYING HE RAN AWAY AND LEFT HER TO DIE IN BATTLE... THEY CALL LILIA A MUTT AND BAT, JUST A DIRTY ORPHAN WHO CAN’T BE TRUSTED… AND THAT HE ISN'T FIT TO SERVE, THAT HE'S USELESS (this must really sting seeing as Lilia has insecurities about not being wanted 😭)

Baul defends Lilia's honor but Lilia still resigns from the Imperial Guard. HE'S TELLING THE SENATE T HEY CAN PUNISH HIM SO THEY FORBID HIM FROM STEPPING INTO THE CAPITAL AGAIN

The senate uses magic to take the egg away from Lilia AND LILIA SAYS GOODBYE TO MALLEUS BY NAME

"I'm not an Imperial Guard anymore, I don't need to follow orders" — Lilia (when Baul tells Lilia he still has a duty to hatch the egg). LILIA HAS GIVEN UP and that seems to have summoned the darkness of the dream to them. Lilia thinks Meleanor and/or Levan are in the darkness so he wants to "go there too".

When a general retires, they are gifted a lavish home near Black Scale Castle. Sebek says it now makes sense why Lilia lived humbly in a forest cottage far away from the capital. Silver says it must be why Lilia dislikes the atmosphere of the capital and why he never took Silver there.

In a flashforward, Lilia is asked to come back 10 years later. At this point, Tamago-sama has developed more sentience and is actively rejecting the love magic from everyone, even his grandmother. He has only been receiving magic for the first 5ish years or so. Maleficia had Baul act as a messenger to bring Lilia back for a special mission BECAUSE OTHERWISE MALLEUS WILL DIE WITHOUT IT.

Malleus’s egg is being kept in Cradle Tower! It keeps the egg safe and essential incubates it for the royal family.

Land of Briar becomes Briar Valley? The queen cannot always be with the egg because Briar Valley and its surrounding are lands are left in chaos after the war. Briar Valley fae specifically are not allowed in human territories.

Lilia is sent off on to find a way to fix the situation. He says he will see where dragons live in other continents and research. Omg, this must be how he started his travels and learned more about other races and their cultures 😭

“Don’t you dare die, Malleus” — Lilia (AND THE LOVING DEATH THREAT ACTUALLY MAKES THE EGG GLOW)

We see some of Lilia’s travels AND HE WAS IN THE CITY OF FLOWERS ON TOPSY TURVY DAY... The people there were friendly at first and worrying for his health until they realize he's a fairy, then they chase him out.

During one of his routine reports, Lilia is convinced by Baul to speak with Malleus's egg (which now glows green sometimes). Lilia shares stories of his travels with Malleus, trying to keep it positive for the baby to not make Malleus sad.

NEXT LILIA TRAVELED TO THE SCALDING SANDS, A MERCHANT IS ASKING IF HE WANTS TO BUY A MAGIC LAMP... Lilia learns about the importance of souvenirs as keepsakes from that merchant.

Okay, so it looks like between travels we're getting scenes of Lilia reporting back and telling Malleus about the place he most recently visited. He says that the Scalding Sands used to be such a small civilization but has since grown into a sprawling city. It's amazing what kind of progress humans can make.

Malleus is fussy and some days accepts magic, and other days he doesn't. Meleanor was also a really picky eater. Levan carries himself like an honors student but was the type to hide his veggies.

AW, HE SINGS MELEANOR'S LULLABY TO MALLEUS

Next Lilia visits some ruins...? It looks like a background from the Spectral Realm seen in Endless Halloween Night. Lilia says no one lives here, there is only furniture. No ghosts are mentioned though! He uses his UM for the first time here. Far Cry Cradle is probably going to be very useful for investigating ways to hatch a dragon's egg!

Lilia tells Malleus to come out of the egg, it must be boring just sleeping. He offers to read stories and change his diaper, tells Malleus his dad wants to meet him. Oh, and of course Lilia shares about his UM too! He tells Malleus that he went to the Land of Crimson Long.

Lilia ventures to Harveston!! An old man mistakes Lilia for a kid and takes him in, showing him warmth and kindness. He says he'll leave soon, but the old man and an old woman say he should stay until spring because the weather is harsh.

The lady notices Lilia is fae (but since time has passed, relations between fae and humans have improved a bit). No one is afraid of him here!! They apologize for mistaking him as a kid and want to share stories.

(Not confirmed but it could be interesting if these were Epel’s ancestors Lilia met… Rollo’s ancestors can be the ones running Lilia out of the City of Flowers www)

ABSHDBYOAFVYFAIAEUQRQEOUBFQ LILIA IS 430 AT THIS POINT BUT THAT NUMBER IS SO CLOSE TO 420 IT MAKES ME LAUGH

His feelings are changing... At 450 years old, Lilia tells Malleus that the world has changed so much and he has had the chance to visit many places. ahbyoaybadadB APPARENTLY PEOPLE USED TO THROW STONES AND ROCKS AT HIM.

Lilia says that fae may become things of the past, just creatures of fairy tales. But he doesn't want Malleus to be the main character of a fairy tale, forgotten by time. He wants Malleus to be able to see the world his parents weren’t able to see for themselves 😔

Another time skip, and it's come to a point where the egg is in critical condition. For 3 whole months it has been rejecting Maleficia's magic. The egg has since erected a lightning barrier to protect itself, even though its own heartbeat is growing weaker and weaker. (Malleus throwing another tantrum lol)

Lilia heard weird sounds but no one else could??? Is that a baby crying???? He tries to approach, but almost gets struck down many times.

Lilia realizes Malleus is crying because he's lonely. "Wait for me. I'm coming to you right now!" He gets hit by lightning, but perserves!

Lilia says he will offer his magic, even his lifespan (many fan theorists squealed now that this is confirmed), to Malleus if he needs it, and finally embraces the egg. (Physical contact like holding the egg is said to encourage magic absorption.)

TAMAGO-SAMA??????? 😭 HE SOUNDS LIKE A POKEMON… and he’s already blowing fire even though he’s freshly hatched???

WTF THOUGH BABY MALLEUS IS 1000000000000000000000x CUTER THAN GROWN UP MALLEUS 🫶 (I don’t like modern day Malleus’s looks at all www)

Silver understands why the dream is how it is, because it was all worth it for Lilia to finally meet Malleus. The moment of hatching has to be the happiest moment in Lilia’s life.

The senate shows up and starts praising Lilia as a hero.

OH????? Lilia seems to be waking????

HMMMM? this implies there’s limited suspension of disbelief each dreamer has 🤔 and if pushes past that threshold, then the dreamer is in a confused half awake state. Idia had these little moments of questioning his dream’s reality as well.

The senate’s voices distort, and they start shouting at Lilia for touching the prince, how it will be a scandal if a bat (… is Lilia a bat fae???) “dirties” the Draconias, etc. Mmmm, maybe this is the real reaction and the praising was part of the dream?? Since Lilia seemed to react strangely to being extolled. (I’m still over here wondering why their opinions hold so much weight compared to the queen; surely she would invite her friend Lilia back?? And doesn’t seem to blame him for the death of her daughter?)

Levan has a voice similar to Malleus, but lacks horns.

DVSUBILADUP9FFQEQFFAHAFBFEYBN OB MALLEUS JUMPSCARE, HE FINALLY MANAGED TO BREAK THROUGH INTO LILIA'S DREAM

Okay 😭 Lilia did in fact use his own life span so Malleus could hatch, and then Lilia had Maleficia swear to secrecy because he was concerned Malleus would blame himself. But it also feels like the senate purged or edited the records to hide the fact that Malleus hatched with Lilia’s love??

Malleus tries to convince Lilia to go back to sleep, to not feel pain. He says he can give Lilia a dream where the Draconias are still alive, a dream where Lilia can live peacefully, just take Malleus’s hand—

SILVER COMING IN CLUTCH, he and Sebek vow to break Malleus’s “blessing”. It’s this word that allows Lilia to fully awaken!!! ⏰ He’s so proud of Silver and Sebek…

They fight (well, Lilia distracts Malleus), then Silver uses his UM to hop into another dream.

They run into Ortho?! And then everyone is dropped off in front of Ignihyde.

FINALLY, SHROUD BROTHERS RETURN RIGHT AT THE VERY END!! I was wondering what they were doing while all this shit went down in Lilia's dream... It sounds like the next book 7 update will start off with Idia and Ortho, most likely told via flashback. I assume Ortho was able to help Idia wake up somehow?

This update felt like we got a lot of new lore!! But many of the events that played out were things we already had an inkling about prior to all of this (Meleanor dying, Lilia going on his travels eventually, Lilia helping Malleus hatch, etc.). It's nice to get the confirmation and to have the gaps of time inbetween filled in.

I really appreciate the story showing us just how hard Lilia's life was and then showing us just how important a nugget of happiness after all of that was so worth it for that moment. His VA did a stellar job with the voice acting this update, particularly the sobbing once Malleus hatched. I loved seeing Lilia's travels and how they gradually affected his own mindset over time... how he learned many different things from the people he encountered, and how he passed on that knowledge onto Malleus.

I liked seeing the origins of Lilia’s UM (he’s on a journey to find an answer)! Hearing about Sebek’s was also interesting; seeing as he’s a late bloomer with his magic and how he’s always competing with Silver, his UM manifested when Silver had been admitted to NRC and Sebek was training alone. I wonder if the UM also (in part) rose out of a feeling of inadequacy or feeling like he has to “catch up” to where Silver, Malleus, and Lilia are. No matter how hard it may be, he wants to push past his limits and serve as a knight. Maybe that, too, is why his UM prioritizes power and speed at his own body’s expense. It’s great seeing Sebek open up a little more and insist on fighting alongside fae; in modern day, Sebek has had to fight alongside humans. This is bridging the two sides of himself and helping him to reconcile with his own prejudices 😭

THE WHOLE DRAMA WITH THE SENATE MAKES ME UNDERSTAND WHY LILIA DROPPED THAT LINE ABOUT HISTORY BEING ALTERED OR REWRITTEN. It all makes so much sense now... Lilia himself (at least him hatching Malleus) was written out of history even though he did so much to help his country. He was so disliked, shunned, and shown animosity from the powers that be, and now he doesn't wish for that to happen to others, especially not to Malleus, the one good thing in his life and all that remained of the friends he lost along the way. You really see his teachings coming through in Silver and Sebek when they face off against OB Malleus towards the end. And the way I screeched when Lilia finally woke up after that...

The more I see OB Malleus, the more I get this skin-crawling feeling around him. I know the other OB boys have done arguably worse things (attempted murder, for example) but there's something so awful and insidious about the way Malleus speaks. He's intentionally gaslighting and manipulating others to just give in to his control, taking advantage of even Lilia at his lowest moments to dominate his thoughts. That's scary to think about... especially the dark inversion of Malleus urging Lilia to take his hand, when the game started off with a much more light-hearted and inviting "take my hand" offer.

Anyway!! I've been wondering for a long time what the Shrouds have been up to, and I'm so excited to see their story next update!!

[leviismybby]

"Levi?"

Your voice calls out for him, Levi opens his eyes slowly and you smile at him. "...name..?" His voice was weak, he wasn't sure where he was but you were there sitting next to him.

"Yes?" That soft voice of yours reaches his ears and Levi feels a shiver run down his spine. "Where am...." He looked around, it was raining and he was covered in blood, his body felt weightless. "...I?"

"You're in the same place you were before the explosion." You run your hands through his hair, smiling at him. Levi looks at you, his eyes soft. "Name...." He reaches out and you take his hand, despite the blood gushing from his missing fingers, you don't seem to mind.

"I...the thunder spear exploded.." His eyes narrow slightly but he is quick to change it and look at you softly. "...did you see all of that..?"

"I did." The rain kept falling, soaking both you and him. Levi didn't know what to say to you, he wishes that you two were somewhere safe, wrapped up in each other's arms and cover each other in kisses.

He tries to sit up but is too weak to do so. "Levi, you're injured you can't get up." You tell him and Levi now notices that you're still in the old scout uniform.

"Name..? You're not really here are you?" His voice is sad and desperate. "No, I am not. You're dreaming." You tell him, still a smile remains on your face as you rub his hair gently.

"No...no...Name...I want to...stay here with you.." His grip on your arm is tight, his eyes now full of pain and sorrow, he is almost crying. "Please...I am tired...I don't want to fight anymore...Name...please..."

"If you don't, who will?" You kiss his forehead, your eyes shine. "I know that you're tired, my love." Your hand still holds onto his, despite the pain he is feeling, he is only focused on you, you still look as beautiful as ever.

"The world needs you, Levi. Now more than ever." He closes his eyes, letting himself feel your gentle touch but tears are streaming down his face as he remembers that this wasn't going to last, that you're not really here. It's all on his mind and yet, he holds onto the dream for longer.

"I need....you...that's all I ever wanted....you....a life with you.....was it too much to ask for?" His body starts to feel pain and he knows that he is waking up. ".... I never told you.....I never told you that I love you....and I'll never get to now...."

Your smile still doesn't fade. "Levi, I know you love me. You didn't have to say it, your actions spoke louder than words." You lean in and kiss his forehead again, he feels it less this time because he will wake up soon, he can faintly hear someone calling his name.

"I have to go now, my love." Letting go of him, you stand up but Levi weakly reaches out and grips your arm. "...name...please....stay. I don't want this dream to end."

Kneeling down again, you put the now broken pocket watch you gave him, under his shredded dark green cloak. "You know that I can't stay Levi, not now, not ever." You kiss him on the lips softly. "Till we meet again dearest, you have a world to save now. It will hurt less one day."

His eyes start to close as he sees you fade away. Let him sleep for longer. That's all he is asking for, to see you again. To hold you, to kiss you. But as he hears Hange's desperate attempt to get him to wake up, he knows that his dream had come to an end.

Later he can hear the sound of fire and the forest around him. His face is and body are all patched up now and Hange is sitting next to him.

Levi closes his eyes again until he feels something under his touch. The watch you give him, it's not working anymore and the glass is broken. But how? It flew away when the explosion happened, how did it get here, next to him?

"Hange...how...did the watch get here..?" Hange looks at him. "I found it wrapped up in your cloak, it must've tangled itself there, somehow."

Levi closes his eyes once more and in hope of falling asleep and seeing you again. However, he remembered what you told him, he has a world to save and that's what he will do because despite all the pain and loss, he still has hope.

He knows that he will never see you again in this life and has come to peace with that conclusion because he will see you again, just not here but he will see you smile again and it won't be just a dream that time.

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

YOU LITERALLY SAVED MY LIFE

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing(s): Dark!JJ x Reader, Sarah x Reader, Rafe x Reader

Warnings: domestic abuse, physical abuse, strangling, gaslighting, alcohol, mentions of blood, toxic relationship, controlling behavior, trauma, rape, 18+

Summary: Y/n trusted JJ, who initially seemed to be the love of her life, but ultimately became the source of her deepest fears.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 5 - Saved Me

After your surgery, despite feeling weak, you musters the strength to recount the harrowing details of the past few months to the female police officers. With Rafe by your side for support, you begins to explain what happened, starting from the night you had the Pogues over for drinks.

-

"We were all having drinks, and I remember feeling dizzy. Next thing I knew, I was falling down the stairs," you recounts, your voice trembling slightly. "At first, I thought it was just an accident, but now I realize he pushed me."

The officers listen attentively, jotting down notes as you continues, you recounting filled with pauses and deep breaths to steady yourself.

Then, on the night of Kiara's birthday," Jess continues, her voice gaining strength as she recalls the chilling events.

"I was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. JJ came in, and he was already angry about something trivial, like the thickness of the chicken. But it escalated quickly... he grabbed the knife out of my hand and showed me how to do it properly.” tears welling up in your eyes. 

“When he went to put the knife down he cut my arm and there was blood everywhere, he then yelled and said that was my fault. I yelled back at him and then he pushed me against the fridge and strangled me, then threw me in our room and locked the door”. You choke out, Rafe reaches out and gently squeezes your hand.

The officers take notes, their questions gentle yet probing, ensuring they capture every detail for the investigation. Through tears and trembling breaths, you reveal the worst part,

“It happened again on the poker night," you add, your voice quieter now, but no less filled with pain. “JJ invited some people over for a game and he made me wear this costume that barely covered my body, I received multiple comments and actions that were unwanted.

After the game, jj couldn’t pay what he lost, so he said they could have me. Which they did.” 

The officers' expressions darken with shock and concern. They exchange glances, their professional demeanor momentarily faltering at the gravity of your revelation.

One officer hesitates before carefully asking for more details, her voice edged with disbelief and sympathy. “They Raped me, and then after JJ did too.”

After recounting the painful details of the abuse you endured, your voice falters, your composure crumbling as emotions overwhelm you. Tears stream down your cheeks unchecked, your hands trembling in Rafe's reassuring grip.

"I... I just couldn't take it anymore," you whisper, your words choked with sorrow and fear. "I tried to ask Sarah for help, but she didn't believe me."

The weight of Sarah's disbelief adds to your anguish, intensifying the sense of betrayal and isolation you've felt. Rafe holds you tighter, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through this alone," Rafe murmurs, his voice filled with empathy and regret.

The police officers listen intently, their expressions reflecting a mix of sadness and resolve. They offer you tissues and a moment to collect yourself, understanding the immense courage it took to speak out despite the disbelief you faced.

"We believe you, and we're here to help," one of the officers assures you gently, her voice a reassuring presence. "You're not alone anymore."

-

Rafe draped a warm blanket over you before starting the car, ensuring you weren't cold during the drive. His thoughtful gesture brought a brief moment of comfort as he navigated through the quiet streets, his expression grave with concern.

Upon arriving at his house, Rafe walked around to your side and gently asked, "Do you need help getting out?" You nodded silently, feeling a wave of exhaustion and relief wash over you. Leaning on him for support, you stepped out, grateful for his steadying presence.

Inside the warmth of his home, Rafe guided you to a cozy spare room where he prepared a bed with care. "You can stay here," he offered kindly, his voice a reassuring anchor in the midst of your turmoil.

You hesitated, uncertainty clouding your thoughts. "I... I don't want to be alone," you admitted softly, vulnerability tingeing your voice.

Understanding flickered in Rafe's eyes, his expression gentle yet resolute. "Alright," he replied, his voice steady. "You can stay with me."

Rafe escorted you to his bedroom, where he carefully tucked you in, ensuring you were comfortable under the soft covers. The storm outside intensified, the wind howling like a vengeful spirit against the windows. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your eyelids, and soon, sleep claimed you.

In the dead of night, a sudden crash of thunder shattered the fragile peace. Startled awake, you bolted upright, heart pounding in your chest. Panic gripped you as you scanned the room, disoriented and terrified. In the dim light, a figure moved towards you, and you screamed in terror, believing it to be JJ.

Unbeknownst to Rafe, you had been sleepwalking, caught in a nightmare that blurred the lines between dream and reality. His heart clenched at your scream, rushing to your side with urgency etched into his features.

It's me, Rafe," he called out firmly, his voice cutting through the darkness. He reached for you, his touch gentle yet firm, as you recoiled in fear.

"Stay back!" you pleaded, voice strained with panic, mistaking his presence for another's malevolent shadow.

Rafe froze, hurt flickering briefly in his eyes before resolve hardened his features. With steady steps, he approached you, his voice a soothing melody in the storm.

"It's okay," he murmured softly, his hands carefully grasping yours. "You're safe with me."

Trembling, you searched his eyes, "I'm scared." Rafe's expression softened with empathy, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

"I know," he murmured, his voice a comforting rumble against your ear. "But you're not alone anymore. I'm here."

——

Throughout the days, Rafe support anchored you through the lingering aftershocks of your ordeal. Whether it was sharing quiet meals together or simply sitting in companionable silence, his presence was a steady comfort.

One evening, as the sun dipped low over the horizon, the doorbell rang, shattering the quiet sanctuary of Rafe's home. Startled, you glanced at Rafe, a flicker of unease crossing your features. "I... I don't like being left alone," you admitted softly, a tremor in your voice.

Rafe nodded reassuringly, “Come with me,” he offered gently, his hand finding yours in a reassuring grip. Rafe reached for the door handle, his movements steady yet deliberate.

With a deep breath, he swung the door open, revealing JJ standing on the threshold.

"I heard you were here," JJ's voice was unhinged, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of JJ, fear clawing at the edges of your composure. Instinctively, you moved closer to Rafe.

"Y/n, baby, let's talk outside, away from this kook," he shouted. JJ moved to step inside, but Rafe blocked him with a firm push against his chest.

"You don't get to talk to her or even look at her. Now, get off my property," Rafe's voice cut through the tense air as he stood firm, his gaze unwavering.

JJ reached out again, attempting to grab your arm, but Rafe swiftly swung, his fist connecting with JJ's face. The blow sent JJ stumbling backward, his balance faltering.

"I thought I told you to leave, Pogue!" Rafe yelled, his grip on your hand tightening as he stood defiantly. JJ yelled defiantly, "Show me what you got, country club!"

Rafe turned to you urgently, his voice steady despite the tension. "Call the police and tell them JJ violated the AVO.” He released your hand as you hurried to grab the phone.

When you returned, chaos had erupted on the lawn. Rafe and JJ were locked in a fierce struggle, JJ’s punches were flying but none finding their mark. 

Moments later, sirens wailed in the distance, drawing closer with each passing second. Blue and red lights bathed the scene as officers swarmed in. JJ's resistance was futile as they swiftly restrained him, leading him away in handcuffs.

As you stood there, shaken but relieved, one of the officers approached you with a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "He won't bother you again. He's going away for a long time."

Rafe returned to your side, pulling you into a tight embrace. His arms around you were both comforting and protective, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry for leaving you alone. I just had to give him what he deserved."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his presence and the weight of the ordeal slowly lifting off your shoulders.

"I'm okay," you whispered, grateful for his support.

-

Six months later, Rafe surprised you with a beach date, the waves crashing against the shore as the sun painted the sky in shades of gold and crimson.

As you walked hand in hand along the water's edge, the weight of past events lingered in the air. Finally, Rafe stopped, turning to face you with a mix of nervousness and determination in his eyes. His voice was steady but filled with emotion as he spoke,

“Y/n, I... I love you."

Your heart skipped a beat, emotions swelling inside you as you looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability etched on his face.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the depth of his feelings and the journey you had shared.

"You don't have to say it back right now," Rafe continued softly, his hand reaching to gently brush a tear from your cheek. "After everything you’ve been through, I just needed you to know."

Overwhelmed with gratitude and love, you took a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly but filled with certainty,

"Rafe, I love you too." Rafe gently cupped your face in his hands. Without another word, he leaned in, pressing his lips softly against yours. 

"I want to thank you for everything. You literally saved my life that day," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion as tears streamed down your cheeks.

Rafe's eyes glistened with tears as he held you close.

...The End...

[meggannn]

hades 2 conversation dialogue my sister and i found interesting

SPOILERS obviously. my sister has been failing her runs on purpose to get more dialogue out of people. this post discusses dialogue that was not in the developer stream.

on hermes (mel and hecate are speaking about hermes and artemis at the start):

on melinoë, artemis, and the olympians:

on why mel is the only one who can kill chronos:

on hecate & mel's relationship:

on a secret order that mel is apart of:

on mel's job at the crossroads:

tension and secrets in the crossroads!!!!

when you give hypnos nectar:

(i wasn't fast enough to get his reply. hypnos says something like "zzzz... welcome to the.... zzzz"), then mel says:

other things i didnt screengrab:

hypnos: mel can remark to charon that hypnos is still asleep, charon says "arrghhh," and mel says "wait, he's of more use this way...?" possibly implying hypnos's sleep is not what it seems

nemesis: is uhhh kind of really mean!!!! she says something to mel along the lines of "you're upset you lost a family you don't remember? i KNEW my mom, all you did was be born"

moros: you can invite moros to the crossroads and he stands near the fated list far from everyone because nobody wants to talk to doom incarnate (odysseus in particular makes a point to say he'll stay away). iirc he introduces himself as "the bearer of bad news" which i find kind of clever but also a bit sad. if you give him nectar iirc he says nobody has given him a gift/offering before. aphrodite also notes that moros has made mel's acquaintance and calls him good-looking.

hephaestus: he criticizes your weapon's workmanship when you first meet him, then later takes it back and compliments it as very good, and says "just don't go spreading it around" to the olympians.

takeaways:

hermes is "missing" but he's on a mission for the war to find out what chronos is scheming

artemis (and hermes) didn't tell the olympians hecate has been raising a titan-killer (mel) and the olympians don't really believe she can do it but send her boons anyway, presumably figuring why not

only mel can enter the house of hades to challenge chronos, so that's why she needs to make this journey alone

hecate is rather sweet and mentorly with mel, but she gets exhausted and irritated when mel doubts herself. i didn't grab it but there's a bit where mel says if hecate had not held back, she knows she would've lost, and hecate snaps "you know?" asking mel why she puts limits on herself

mel, hecate, selene, and artemis are part of a secret order called the silver sisters that hermes also supports. olympus does not know about it. all these gods (save hermes) also have moon iconography in their designs

pretty sure moros will be romanceable. i think his and mel's interactions are very sweet, and aphrodite notes he's arrived and calls him good-looking, which reminded me of how she commented on thanatos to zag. no idea who might be a female romance option yet (i'm assuming there is one)

hephaestus boons are a lot of fun, per my sister

the big one: HECATE AND NEMESIS KNOW SOMETHING WE DON'T??? hecate maybe knew an attack was coming and didn't do anything?? nyx is also confirmed to basically be not around though we don't know where she is. and hecate is something called a handmaiden??? is she meant to serve nyx? it now seems like the children of nyx are meant to serve hecate, and eris isn't doing that, but nemesis is playing guard duty begrudgingly. so maybe nemesis thinks hecate let the house be captured/destroyed for her own ends, possibly also to get nyx out of the picture, so nyx's children would serve her(?). maye nyx is also a silver sister and hecate is now in command at the crossroads/on earth, second only to selene?

[freakyformula]

Pretty like the sun part two

Summary: Reader is a huge Lewis fan and is attending her first race in her life with her brother. She catches Lewis eye and he instantly falls for her.

Writers comment: -

Warnings: Reader is referred to as she/her, reader has a brother, age gap but readers age is not specified.

Word count: about 3,5k

Y/N= Your Name and Y/N/B= Your Name's Brother

Thursday evening

Y/N POV

"His father is coming here on Sunday? I've always looked up to Anthony, he seems like a good father to Lewis. I hope I get a few words with him" Her brother says to himself.

"Lewis asked me about our parents too…" She started. "I told him about them and what they made us go through as kids."

Her brother stayed quiet and she couldn't decide if he disapproved of what she had told the brit or if he was okay with her sharing such personal details about their family.

"How did he react?" He asks

"He thought it was unfair, I guess." She said, thinking back on what he really said. She couldn't admit that Lewis had told her how she deserved to be worshipped and loved like royalty.

She and her brother had arrived at the hotel and checked in. They figured a twin-size room would be enough when they made arrangements a couple of months ago in order to save money. It made perfect sense at the time. But all she wanted now was to undress, take a refreshing bath and lounge on the bed, naked. She needed some space to think. Her brother kept talking as if The Lewis Hamilton hadn't gotten them paddock passes and spoiled them a couple of hours earlier. That was so him, always seemingly calm and collected. She on the other hand, was ready to explode.

Her brother seemed completely oblivious to her nervousness and lack of effort to keep up with his conversation. He must have caught up at some point because he finally stopped talking and looked at her.

"Are you okay? You're awfully quiet, you're not mad I hope?" He asks his sister.

"No! No, I'm not mad." She responds, giving him a weak smile.

"Thinking about Lewis, then?" He asks, afraid to piss his sister off.

"Yeah… I guess I'm just imagining things?"

Her brother seems to ponder for a minute, carefully thinking of a good answer.

"You know what? I know you, and I know that you have a good intuition, so trust it." He says as he sits down on the bed beside her.

"I don't even know if I want to go back to the paddock." She sniffles.

Her brother looks at her with sadness in his eyes and offers her a hug which she accepts with open arms.

They do their evening routines and call it an early night.

She hadn't been able to sleep all night, her thoughts kept racing and she couldn't stop thinking of Lewis and their chemistry the day before. This was more than she ever could have hoped for, not even in her dreams would she even dare to think that Lewis would show this much interest in her. What were his intentions with her exactly? She was dying to know but she knew she would be too nervous to ask. She had been his fan ever since he was a rookie in Formula 1. She knew every single detail about him, his birthday, his exes, she had even memorized most of his race wins. She knew everything about him, and she was the one being madly in love with him no matter how much she hated to admit it, and yet, now when she had the chance to cheer him on the whole weekend, she didn't dare to.

Friday

She's awakened by the sound of her brother scrolling on tiktok. Her brother was up early, way too early for her liking.

She throws one of her pillows his way in a desperate attempt to make him understand to turn the volume down but he manages to dodge it before it does any harm.

She'd managed to sleep for a couple of hours in the early morning. She could sleep a couple of more hours but in that case, she would miss the official start of the race weekend.

Reluctantly, she gets up from the warm bed. She groans in discomfort, and practically drags herself to the shower. When the warm stream of water hits her naked body, she finally feels herself slowly waking up from her slumber.

She looks at herself in the mirror and gasps.

The bags under her eyes are staring at her just as intently as she is staring at them.

She panics for a couple of seconds until she takes a few deep breaths. She remembers that she packed undereye cooling patches. For once, overpacking seemed to pay off.

She puts them on as she's putting together an outfit. She decides on a black midi dress.

It complements all of her features perfectly.

She does her skincare as usual and notes that she can barely see her undereye bags.

"Thank fuck…" She mutters to herself.

She applies some mascara just like the day before and gives her hair a good blow dry to maximize volume.

They have a quick breakfast at the hotel before they leave for the track.

Lewis POV

He had a good nights sleep behind him. He woke up with a smile on his lips as the first thing that came to his mind as he awoke was her.

Last night he was thinking, on his way back to the hotel. Was he too blunt and forward with her earlier? Was he about to scare her away? These were all questions he wanted answered. He knew she was timid. On the other hand, he had taken care to not come across as flirty, deciding that acting friendly would be the most appropriate choice.

He had a quick workout scheduled with Angela and he ate a light breakfast after. He made his way to the paddock in good time before FP1. He sat in his drivers room, having already changed into his fireproofs and his race suit was tied around his hips until someone from the Mercedes staff knocked on his door to let him know that his friends had arrived.

Lewis felt his heart skip a beat. Finally, he would get to meet her again! He quickly jumped into his racing shoes and found his way down to the garage.

He looks around and finally sees them, at the same spot as the day before. Both seemingly waiting for him nervously. She looks even more nervous today than yesterday.

"Y/N, Y/N/B! I'm so happy to see you both!" Lewis exclaims, holding out his arms.

Y/N POV

Lewis walks towards her and her brother with a wide smile and seems to expect a hug from her. She reluctantly walks towards him and they meet halfway, accepting the hug he offers.

"Hi Lewis." She chuckles and looks down, feeling flustered.

"I know this sounds crazy but I've missed you." Lewis admits.

She looks up at him with a confused look on her face. Confusion soon turns to a smile. She turns to her brother for moral support, and he walks up and gives Lewis a handshake.

"Once again, thank you for letting us stay here, Lewis!" He says.

"Oh, don't worry about it! Thank you for being such good company yesterday." Lewis waves off her brothers concern.

Lewis is called off to prepare for FP1 but before he leaves the siblings, he follows them to the seating area of the garage.

"Good luck!" Her brother says and sits down.

"Drive carefully, yeah?" She asks him and that earns her a smile from Lewis.

"Are you worried about my safety, Y/N?" Lewis asks.

She looks at her brother, waiting for instructions on what to say. "I guess I am." She finally admits.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. Remember, I'm not a 7-time world champion in vain." He winks at her before he walks off to make final preparations and go through the final details with Bono.

The siblings follow the whole 90-minute session carefully and with much nervosity.

"He's doing fine so far" They ascertain.

She glances over at her brother that is biting on his nails and fidgeting with the buttons of his navy blue shirt.

Her brother wasn't usually cheering on anyone specific but today, he would only cheer on Lewis. Her brother hasn't admitted it yet but she knows that he's impressed with Lewis. He would admit that Lewis is one of the best in Formula 1 history but he wouldn't let more than that slide. Her brother used to be a big Kimi and Seb fan, especially when they were teammates at Ferrari. Now they're both retired and she's guessing he still hasn't found anyone worthy of cheering on. She knows he has a weak spot for Daniel and his humour, and judging from their laughs yesterday, they got on really well.

Lewis seems to struggle a bit, coming to the pit every couple of laps to make modifications and tiny changes to the car. George is doing better and gets some solid laps in. At last, with a couple of minutes to spare, Lewis gets a couple of good laps in too.

Lewis ends up 5th, after Lando at 1st, Oscar at 2nd, Max at 3rd, and his teammate, George at 4th.

Lewis looks disappointed when he unbuckles and gets out of the car, shoulders slumped and shaking his head. He walks up to Toto and Bono to discuss the issues with the car. After a while, he looks their way and gives them a wave. Her brother takes that as an invitation to walk over to the brit and drags her with him.

"Toto, Bono… This is Y/N/B and Y/N!"

The siblings shake hands with the men and they all agree to have lunch together.

Her brother is talking away with Bono as he's studying mechanical engineering himself and is interested in the topic.

Lewis excuses himself to go and change, but before she can panic Toto takes over.

"I saw you walking around the garage with Lewis, how do you know each other?" Toto asks, obviously nosy.

She thinks about telling a white lie at first but decides to tell the truth. "We don't actually, he invited us in here yesterday."

Toto stares at her with a confused look and continues, "That's interesting, he's never done that before. But I trust his judgement, you're both very welcome to the Mercedes family!" He says as he gives her a reassuring pat on her shoulder.

Before she can thank him Lewis walks up behind her and startles her.

"Oops, I'm so sorry Y/N." Lewis says as he quickly puts his hand on her back to keep her steady.

She sees Toto and Lewis exchanging a grin with each other and all four of them walk off to hospitality for lunch.

Lewis eats light while the rest eat to their hearts content. The british food has never tasted better.

"We're sorry if we keep indulging you, Lewis." Her brother cringes as he realises, putting down his pudding.

Lewis only responds with a shake of his head and encourages them to keep eating.

As they're all done, they walk down to the garage again.

All of a sudden your brother realises that he's supposed to meet up with Daniel and Yuki before FP2. She panics slightly, not wanting to be left alone in the garage. Lewis looks around for someone from the crew who could keep her company.

Toto looks at her and decides to take her under his wing.

"You can go, I'll keep an eye on her" He says with a reassuring tone.

She instantly calms down, knowing that Toto would take very well care of her. He takes her to his chair and sets another chair down next to his.

"Here, you can sit here with me if you want." Toto smiles down at her.

He's tall, and yet, she feels comfortable with him instantly. He's got that look to him, his aura oozes over with kindness.

"Would you like to see my drivers room, Y/N?" Lewis asks. She looks between Toto and Lewis, looking for permission to say yes, perhaps.

"Y-yeah" She says while looking at him with wide eyes.

"You need to hurry" Toto yells after them as they leave for the second floor.

The room was dull, a sofa, a desk and a wardrobe with everything a Formula 1 driver could possibly need. Lewis walks over to the sofa and sits down.

"What do you think?" He asks.

"About…?" She teases.

"The room!" He laughs.

"Well… it's tastefully grey and small." She says, sarcasm evident in her tone. "The carpet is the ugliest thing I've ever laid my eyes on" She adds. Lewis laughs and watches her sit down on the chair at his desk. She crosses her legs and waits for him to say something, but he never does. He just sits there, with that wide adorable smile of his.

She can feel the butterflies fluttering in her chest and stomach and looks down in order to avoid his eyes.

"Why did you bring me here?" She finally asks and looks directly at him.

He surely didn't expect that question because he scratches his neck and looks away, staring at himself in the mirror instead. Finally, he gets up and kneels before her.

Lewis POV

Panic, what was he going to say?

That he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen? That he was falling for her, hard? That he had their future already planned out in his head?

No, he can't do that to her. He needs to take it easy, for her and their relationships sake.

"So, Y/N…." Before he gets the chance to continue his door flies open and a stressed George walks in.

"Fuck sake mate, have you ever heard of knocking?!" Lewis exclaims, clearly annoyed about the intrusion.

"Yeah, fuck sake! FP2 starts in 10 minutes!" George argues back.

Lewis groans, quickly apologizing for how things turned out. He leads her back to the garage and places her next to Toto.

"See you later?" Lewis softly asks her.

"I'm sure you'll find me in the same spot" She says as Lewis pats her back and turns his heel and jumps into the car, feeling ready for FP2.

Y/N POV

"Nervous?" Toto asks.

"A little…" She admits. "Do you ever get used to it?"

Toto looks her in the eyes, "Yes you do, it only takes a couple of weekends. Maybe it's different when it's a loved one in the car." Clearly assuming that her and Lewis are more than friends.

"I-I'm sorry, me and Lewis are only friends. Nothing more." She quickly counters.

"I've seen the way Lewis looks at you, that's all I'm going to say." He says and looks away at the screens.

Toto hands her a headset to wear during the session. She listens in to Lewis and the communication between the mechanics and engineers.

"Good job, George! Now, Lewis, do you think you're be able to pull off a P1 or 2?" Toto asks his number one driver. George had just given Toto the best time of the session, placing himself first. Lewis drives the lap of his life and puts himself first, most likely disappointing George in the process. Never did she think she'd be have a chance to look at a Mercedes 1-2 this weekend.

Working on some last details on the car had paid off and the whole team seemed hopeful for a win this weekend. Especially Toto, who sat staring at the data with a grin on his face.

He tears his stare from the screen as he escorts her to Lewis who happily takes her into his arms, surprising her.

"Only friends, huh?" Toto teases.

Lewis gives his boss a nudge, probably wishing for him to shut his mouth.

"I need to shower and do my interviews, will you wait for me at my drivers room? If you want to, we can meet up with your brother and maybe have dinner? I know a small Italian restaurant not far from here."

"Sounds like a good plan, Lewis. I'll wait for you." She says and starts navigating her way to his drivers room. As she's walking up the stairs she crashes into George. She lets out an audible gasp as she runs into the taller Brit.

"I'm so sorry, I-I really didn't mean to!" She panics, worried about getting on anyone's nerves.

"Heyyyy, I know you! You're the girl from earlier!" He says as he recognizes her from the awkward encounter in Lewis's room.

"I didn't want us to be introduced like that, I'm sorry." She says as she offers him a handshake, "Hi, I'm Y/N!"

George grabs her hand as he greets her, as he's quietly judging her.

"Well hi, I'm George, it's a pleasure to meet you Y/N." He smiles down at her. She feels her nervosity melting away as they make small talk.

As they talk, she realizes that George is even nicer than she imagined he'd be. Is everyone at Mercedes this nice? So far, everyone she had met at the garage treated her like a princess.

George looks at his watch and gasps. "Shit, I need to find Carmen before I get in trouble. See you around Y/N!" And with that, he walks off.

She continues up the stairs to Lewis room. As she sees the sofa, she walks up to it and crashes down. She must have dozed off for a bit because she didn't hear anyone walking in. Only when she feels them touch her arm lighty she bolt up.

"Hey, you were asleep. It's just me." Lewis takes her hands and holds them.

She grounds herself and works out where she is.

"Ready to go find your brother?" Lewis asks. She nods as an answer and they take off. It wasn't hard to find him, he was sitting at the Red Bull garage with Max, Daniel and Yuki. They seemed to be enjoying each others company, laughing hilariously at some dry joke her brother cracked. They walk up to the group and her brother quickly gets up as soon as he sees them. Lewis introduces her to the drivers.

"Daniel, Max, Yuki…" He nods at each of them, "This is Y/N, Y/N/B's sister." The drivers stand up to greet her.

"We were actually planning on going out for dinner, care to join?" Lewis asks her brother.

"Of course!" He says as he waves his goodbyes to the other drivers.

"Hey, what about me?! I feel discriminated!" Daniel blurts out.

The trio look at each other and shrug.

"You can come, as long as you behave" Lewis laughs as he gives Daniel a teasing push.

"Hey, I always behave!" Daniel grins at his rival.

The walk to the restaurant went by quickly, they spoke about their results and the interviewers outrageous questions. Daniel and Lewis were really interested in getting to know the siblings and they both took in the moment they had with the drivers.

The restaurant was small and run by an older couple. The interior reminded her of her grandparent's house, warm and cozy.

The two drivers order diet-friendly alternatives, Lewis settling for vegan bean soup and Daniel deciding on stuffed bell peppers. She orders a lentil pasta and her brothers goes for a mushroom pizza. The food was fantastic, and so was the company. Lewis had the genious idea of making a WhatsApp group so they could keep in touch with each other. They ate and talked for what felt like an hour but in reality was four hours at least.

When the server comes with the bill Lewis is the first to bring out his card to pay. Despite everyone's protests, he insists.

When they get out again the sun has set and it's dark. She can feel the air threatening to chill her skin.

"Cold?" Lewis asks.

"A little but it's fine." She shrugs.

Lewis takes his jean jacket off and throws it over her shoulders.

"Wouldn't want you to get sick…" Lewis smiles down at her.

Her brother and Daniel were deep in conversation and didn't notice Lewis and her walking falling behind them, walking slower and getting closer.

"Can I say something, Y/N?" Lewis starts off.

She turns to him, "Of course you can, what's wrong?"

"It's about what I was about to say earlier." He grabs her arm and pulls her closer. "I know we just met but I don't think I can forget about you when I leave for the next race." He says loud enough so only she can hear his words.

"Will you go on a date with me? A real date, without your brother or other distractions, just us two?" Lewis asks, clearly nervous.

She looks at him with wide eyes, unable to process what she just heard her idol say.

"Why me, Lewis?" She asks, tears of joy and fear in her eyes.

"Oh darling, because you're perfect. You're everything I've ever hoped for. I want to at least give this a chance and if it doesn't work out, we can just stay friends? I don't want to lose you."

She's about to open her mouth to speak but as she does she feels Lewis leaning closer, making her flinch away.

"Sorry, it's too early for that." He admits. "Come on, I'll walk you back to the h-"

"I would love to go on a date with you, Lewis. It's just that… I've never done anything like this before and to be honest, I'm really scared and clueless." She says everything that's been building up these last two days.

"We will take it slow, would you be okay with that, Y/N?" He looks deep in her eyes as they keep walking. "What about a date after the race on sunday? How does that sound to you?"

"Sounds good to me" She smiles to herself.

They arrive at their hotel as her brother and Daniel is waiting for the two slowpokes to catch up.

[lowkeyrobin]

Mcyt with an s/o who's a voice acter for video game characters? They mostly do voice characters in horror games n stuff(like until dawn, where the characters are also modeled after the voice after if I remember correctly)

I just think their faces would be hilarious if the choice they make in the game ends up with y/n getting killed lol

OH MY GOD YESSSSS ; also tried to use different games and not the same for everyone but I'm not the heaviest story game gamer LMFAO ; also don't talk about how timeliness wouldn't make sense shhhhhh

MCYT ; video game voice actor

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language & fictional violence and death/murder

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

somehow the topic of mc story mode came up and how you actually voice acted a few characters + one of the Jessie variants (whichever you picked as a kid 🙏)

"WHAT? WHY DIDNT I KNOW ABOUT THIS?"

"I mean I was like, fourteen. I don't think I even knew you yet"

"absolute betrayal"

he literally speeds to his office, downloads the first game and proceeds to stream for three hours playing it (he selects whichever Jessie you voiced of course)

"OH MY GOD THAT IS MY PARTNER, HOLY SHIT, LISTEN TO THEIR BABY VOICE!"

the tweets never end

"spot the difference" and its an old/new pic of you compared to jessie

💀💀💀💀

once he gets to the save Petra or Lukas scene he straight up pauses and playfully yells at you like you made the game?? 💀🙏

he dies so many times it's not even funny

love him tho

RANBOO

Detroit become human

the moment he finds out you voiced a minor character he speedruns trying to find you

the character is also modeled after you, so he's begging chat to keep an eye out for you too

you're basically just some very friendly person trying to help Connor but no matter what route he/the player takes, you wind up dead for the angst

ouuuu the heartbreak, the angst

if it's by being shot, betrayed, or committing your own death, you're gone bro

"y/n why the fuck does your character die in the worst ways possible?"

you shrug

"that genuinley hurt my feelings. I don't wanna play this anymore"

"you didn't get to Connors possible death scene yet!"

"WHAT?"

FREDDIE BADLINU

TLOU 2 (I don't support the makers zionist views, I just thought this fit. free Palestine and do your daily clicks)

was literally cheering you on the whole time when you were bts for voice acting your character

you had to take like scream classes to upgrade your screaming abilities lmao

you gave the voice to a character modeled after you, an infected teen who runs into ellie on her way through the game

she/the player is forced to put you down because you're not immune

L

he plays through the game and turns to you like "dude do I actually have to kill you to progress?"

you just nod

"I'm sorry, I didn't wanna do this"

THE DESPERATE SCREAMING GOT HIM

literally looked at you in horror

"...are you okay?"

you smile and nod

NIKI NIHACHU

life is strange

mf you would've been like 16?? damn get ur bag, okay

she plays through and you va (whoever you choose) and everytime she hears your voice she smiles

"omg that's my partner! that's y/n, you guys!! :D"

the cutest

literallt cries at the end of the game

"y/n, were you in life is strange two?"

"why?"

"Cause I wanna play it but I don't wanna get my hopes up about you being there"

"just play it, just play it. trust me"

ALEX QUACKITY

twdg s4

basically clem/the player gets really close to your character and ends up having to kill them after they turn into a walker

the angst, the heartbreak

he's never done a full let's play / game play like that before and especially with a full game series

when he got to s4 and heard you for the first time he literally started jumping around and screaming

now when you die... it's jumping and screaming alright (in anger and sadness)

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I PLAYED ALL THOSE GAMES JUST FOR YOU TO DIE?"

"I mean there's an option to prevent me turning, you're just a dumbass"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IM RESTARTING"

FOOLISH GAMERS

dead by daylight

you va'd multiple characters/killers

and the devs wanted to show appreciation by giving you your own playable character with your natural voice

when foolish finds out, he gets tubbo, quackity, tina & niki in a call to play dbd + stream for like 6 hours

loves seeing all the death animations you'd be given and all your voicelines

"OH MY GOD! guys this is my partner, they're so instantly talented at voice acting, holy shit!"

"we get it foolish, you love y/n"

"It's more than love, quackity, it's an obsession"

"my brother in christ, calm down"

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝕳𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖊𝖘

Derek Danforth x gn reader

Summary: you and Derek run away together with fake identities to start a new and more simple life together.

Warnings: no pronouns used towards the reader. Smut. Riding. Sex on a plane. Fake identities. Fake marriage. Derek being soft exclusively to reader. This is the continuation for the miniseries of one shots I wrote for Derek that you can find on my masterlist but, just like the others, can be read as a one shot. Enjoy

Part 2 of this!

Words count: almost 5000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

You wake up in Derek's bed, the memories of the passionate night you shared still vividly replaying in your mind. The warmth of his presence lingers on the sheets, but he is nowhere to be found. Wrapping yourself in one of Derek's colorful shirts to cover your naked body, you begin searching for him, a sense of unease gnawing at you.

The mansion is eerily silent, the only sound is your bare feet padding softly on the floor. You navigate through the corridors, passing by different rooms until you find Derek in his office, the sharp tone of his voice cutting through the silence.

He's on the phone, yelling about an assassin who seems to be relentlessly hunting him down. The look on his face is one of extreme anger and paranoia, his eyes darting around as if expecting danger to strike at any moment. His usual composed demeanor is replaced by a stressed and agitated man on the edge.

"Get me someone competent this time!" Derek shouts into the phone, his voice breaking with frustration. "I don't care how much it costs, just get it done!"

You approach him slowly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Derek, it's going to be okay" you whisper, trying to console him in the best way you can. He turns to look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and desperation. You've never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so exposed.

"Do you even understand what's happening?" he snaps, his anger momentarily redirected at you.

In his drugged-up and paranoid state, Derek begins to confess. He spills the truth about his elaborate scheme: stealing money to finance his mother's campaign, manipulating her rise to power, and using her connections to secure more business deals for himself. He vents about his problematic relationship with his mother, the constant pressure to succeed, and this beekeeper who seems unstoppable in his quest to see Derek dead.

You listen intently, your heart aching for the man you've come to love despite his many flaws. His wrath never seems to subside, and at one point, Derek's face twists into a mask of anguish, and his hand trembles as he reaches into the desk drawer.

Before you can react, he pulls out a revolver, the cold metal glinting in the dim light. Your heart skips a beat, and your breath catches in your throat.

"Derek, what are you doing?" you ask, your voice shaking.

He points the gun at you, his eyes wild, with a mix of anger and fear. "Would you betray me? Would you save yourself and leave me to this fucking beekeeper?"

The question hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating. You see the desperation in his eyes, the stress that has pushed him to this point. Your initial shock quickly transforms into a profound sadness as you realize just how deeply this situation is affecting him.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you hesitantly take a step forward. Derek's hand shakes, but he doesn't lower the gun. You can see the internal struggle playing out on his face, the fear of betrayal mingling with the fear of being alone.

With a trembling breath, you step closer until the barrel of the gun is pressed against your forehead. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine, but you hold your ground. "Derek, I would rather die with you than betray you" you say, your voice breaking with emotion. Tears stream down your face as you look into his eyes, hoping to reach the man you love behind the fear and paranoia.

For a moment, time stands still. The room is filled with a tense silence, the only sound the ragged breaths coming from both of you. Then, something shifts in Derek's expression. His eyes soften, the anger and fear melting away to reveal a deep sorrow.

Slowly, he lowers the gun, his hand shaking violently. "I'm sorry" he whispers, tears glistening in his eyes.

You take the gun from his hand and place it on the desk, then wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace.

You feel his body tremble against yours, the weight of his actions and the stress of his situation bearing down on him. You stroke his back soothingly, whispering words of comfort and love.

"Derek, we need to think clearly," you say softly "You can't stay here. You need to leave. Go somewhere safe and leave no trace behind”

He looks at you, the fear still evident in his eyes. He contemplates the idea, his mind racing with possibilities. Ultimately, he agrees, giving you instructions to arrange a private flight while he secures a new identity for him.

You leave his office to start preparing everything. Using Derek's network of contacts, you manage to secure a private jet. You work swiftly ensuring that no trace of your plans can be detected.

Meanwhile, Derek makes a call to a trusted associate, arranging for fake documents and a new identity. His usual confidence and arrogance are tempered by the gravity of the situation, and you can see the strain taking its toll on him.

When Derek is ready to go, he asks you to come with him. At first, you think it's because you're the only one who knows where he's headed. You were partially true for that but he added more to justify his sudden request. "Come on, don’t leave me alone in this. Let’s start a new life together. Like it or not you’re in as much trouble as me.”

You've always been there for him. Know him well enough to intervene when needed, when to calm him down and, on top of that, you were hot.

It would be such a shame for him to lose such an incredible person like you for god knows how fucking long.

Your mind races with thoughts of the future. Could you really leave everything behind and start a new life after everything you’ve been through? With Derek out of all people? The idea fills you with both hope and fear.

Mickey was already dead. You stand no chance against this crazy man. Let’s not risk your life and make the fun choice at this point.

You agree to go with him. He asks his contact to prepare a new identity for you as well, and soon you are ready to leave your old lives behind.

༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒

The departure was imminent. You and Derek were poised for escape, but there was one last crucial task that you wanted to do: erasing all digital traces of presence. The thought of being seen on surveillance tapes, the possibility of anyone tracking your movements, made your heart race. You need to delete the recordings from the hours you and Derek were seen, or everything will be useless.

“I’ll be right back” you whispered to his ear before sprinting inside the still desolated building.

You approached the door with a practiced calm, though your pulse was anything but steady. The tools in your hand felt heavier than usual. The quiet of the early morning amplifies every sound you make.

You picked the lock with surprising ease, the years of working alongside Derek giving you more skills than you had ever realized. The door clicked open, and you slipped inside, the dimly lit room casting shadows on the walls.

The computer area was a maze of desks and screens, the soft hum of machinery was the only sound breaking the silence. You moved quickly to the main terminal, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you navigated the system. Each second felt like an eternity, your anxiety mounting as you watched the progress bar inch closer to completion.

A noise behind you made you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You glanced around, but the room was empty. You shook your head, scolding yourself for being paranoid. Still, the feeling that someone was watching you wouldn't go away.

With a final keystroke, the last of the recordings were erased. Relief washed over you, but it was short lived. You couldn't shake the feeling of being followed, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

Quick, act fast.

You quickly accessed the airline database, your decent skills with computers coming in handy. You found a cheap flight and replaced the seats of a couple with yours and Derek's names. It was a diversion, a way to throw off anyone who might be tracking you. Hopefully, it would buy you enough time to get away clean.

As you moved to leave, the sound of the door opening loudly made your blood run cold. You dove under a nearby desk, your heart pounding so hard you were sure it could be heard. The room was dark, but the light from the hallway cast long shadows. Footsteps echoed through the space, słow and deliberate. You pressed yourself further into the shadows, barely daring to breathe.

The footsteps grew closer, pausing near the desk where you were hiding. You bit your lip to stifle any sound, your mind racing. Was it this relentless Beekeeper, or just someone else in the wrong place at the wrong time? The uncertainty was maddening.

Minutes felt like hours as you remained hidden, every creak and rustle amplified in the dark. The footsteps eventually moved away but you waited, counting each breath, until you were sure the person had left. Your muscles ached from the tension, but you couldn't afford to relax yet.

You carefully crawled out from under the desk, your movements slow and deliberate. The room was still, but you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. You edged towards the door, every nerve on high alert. The hallway outside was empty, but you knew better than to trust appearances.

Slipping into the corridor, you blended into the growing crowd of people. The airport was starting to come alive with the first travelers of the day, and you moved among them, doing your best to appear inconspicuous. Your heart was still racing, the fear of being caught making every step feel precarious.

You didn't dare to look back, the anxiety gnawing at you. The feeling of being followed persisted, but you pushed it down, focusing on the task at hand. The airport was now open, the bustle of activity providing some semblance of cover. You made your way to the rendezvous point, hoping Derek was already there.

The crowd was your shield, the noise and movement giving you a sense of security. You kept your head down, avoiding eye contact, adjusting from time to time your sunglasses to keep your hand occupied. Every instinct screaming at you to keep moving.

The relief you felt upon spotting Derek was overwhelming, his familiar figure hidden carefully among the throng of strangers.

It was strange seeing him dressed all black for once, but you for sure were not complaining. That leather jacket looked good on him.

"Let's go, you whispered, slipping your hand into his. He squeezed it reassuringly, his presence calming your fraved nerves.

As you moved through the airport, the fear began to fade, replaced by a grim determination. Whether the person in the computer room had been the assassin or just a figment of your paranoia, you couldn't be sure. But one thing was certain: you and Derek were in this together, and nothing would stop you from finding a way out.

༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒

The private jet you and Derek are in is a masterpiece of luxury and design. The interior boasts plush leather seats, dark mahogany accents, and soft ambient lighting that creates a warm, intimate atmosphere. The hum of the engines is a distant whisper, making the cabin a serene escape from the chaos left behind.

You sit together in a spacious lounge area, leaning against Derek, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt. He sips scotch from the mini-bar, the amber liquid catching the light as he swirls it in his glass. You nestle closer to him, drawing comfort from his presence despite the tension that still lingers in the air.

The seats are wide and comfortable, upholstered in buttery leather. The bar is stocked with top-shelf liquor, and the faint scent of citrus and cedar fills the air, creating an ambiance of calm sophistication,

You trace a finger along the scam of the leather armrest, letting the silence settle before you turn to him, a teasing glint in your eye.

Derek takes another sip of his scotch, his fingers tightening slightly around the glass as if the act of holding it grounds him, you can see the tension in his eyes.

You scrunch your nose playfully, trying to lift his spirits.

"Honestly, I think our new last name is a bit ugly. And the picture they used for my new ID is awful."

He showed you the information a couple of hours ago but only now had you paid attention to them.

He chuckles, the sound a bit rough, but there's genuine amusement there. "You look good in any picture. But if it makes you feel better, we can take new ones when we're settled.”

You smile, feeling a flutter of warmth at his compliment, but there's a question you need to ask. "Why did you want me to come with you? I mean, really?"

Derek's expression hardens for a moment, his defenses rising. He takes a deep breath, looking away as if considering how much to reveal. “That fucking Beekeeper would have probably tortured you to know where I went" he says, his tone a mix of seriousness and flirtation, "And let's be real, we both know how little it takes to make you beg”

You lightly hit him on the chest, unable to suppress your laughter. "You're such an idiot" you say, shaking your head, but your heart feels lighter.

The momentary levity fades as you notice the stress lines still etched on his face. His eyes, though filled with a of emotions, show a vulnerability you've rarely seen. Determined to soothe him, you climb onto his lap. His eyes immediately move to your face, filled with a mixture of surprise and appreciation.

You stroke his check tenderly your thumb brushing against the stubble. "It's going to be okay. We're in this together, and we'll figure it out one step at the time”

“We have a chance to start over, to build something real." He looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty "Do you really believe that we can leave it all behind?"

"I do," you say firmly. "We can make a new life together, free from the past and ready to do whatever we want”

He closes his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch. "You always know what to say" he murmurs.

The leather seats creak softly under your combined weight, a subtle reminder of the luxury that envelops you. But in this moment, all that matters is the closeness, the raw need to erase the anxiety and fear that have plagued Derek.

Your fingers trace the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble, a tactile reassurance of his presence, his reality. Derek's eyes, usually sharp and calculating, now reflect a tempest of emotions-vulnerability, longing, and a deep, unyielding need for connection.

As your lips meet again, the kiss deepens, becoming a fervent dance of tongues and breaths, each movement a testament to the desperation to find solace in each other. Your bodies press closer, the heat between you rising, a conflagration of pent-up emotions seeking release.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless. He looks a you dead in the eyes and makes his demand crystal clear. “Distract me.”

You felt something poking your butt and a smirk slowly grow on your face.

A leopard never changes its spots, after all.

Your clothes become a barrier, an unnecessary hindrance to the communion you both seek. Piece by piece, they are discarded, falling away like the masks you wear in the outside world. Each touch, each caress, is imbued with a profound intensity, a silent promise of devotion and understanding. Derek's hands roam over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, his touch both a comfort and a spark to the flames of your desire.

Derek's hand trails languidly up and down your back, each pass a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. His touch is both tender and possessive, a silent affirmation of his need for you. His fingers splay against your back, pulling you closer, eliminating any space between you. You can feel every inch of him, the solid strength of his thighs beneath yours, the muscle of his arms as they wrap around you, holding you as if you are his lifeline.

As you straddle him, your bodies move in a synchronized dance, a rhythm as ancient as time itself. The jet's confined space amplifies every sound, every whispered moan, turning them into a symphony of shared pleasure and solace. Your movements become more urgent, a physical manifestation of your emotional need to become one, to find sanctuary in each other's embrace.

His skin is hot to the touch, a testament to the fire burning between you. He watches you with eyes darkened by desire, his breaths coming in shallow pants.

Your hands find the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them with practiced ease. You can feel the growing hardness beneath the fabric, a clear indication of his arousal. He lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to slide his pants and underwear down, freeing him completely. The sight of him, fully exposed, sends a thrill through you, a potent mix of anticipation and longing.

You shift, positioning yourself over him, feeling the heat of his arousal against your inner thigh. His hands find your hips, guiding you as you lower yourself onto him. The initial contact is electric, a spark that ignites into a full-blown inferno as you sink down, taking him fully inside you. A gasp escapes your lips, the sensation overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and fullness.

For a moment, you remain still, savoring the connection, the feeling of being completely joined with him. Derek's hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he struggles to maintain control. You can see the strain in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches with the effort.

Then you begin to move, slowly at first, finding a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. The friction is exquisite, every movement a deliberate act of love and desire. You ride him with increasing fervor, your bodies moving in perfect synchrony, a dance as old as time itself.

Derek's hands roam your body, his thumb brushing over your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through you. The other hand moves to the small of your back, guiding your movements, urging you on. You lean forward, bracing your hands on his shoulders, your breaths mingling as you move together.

The sensations build, a crescendo of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you. You can feel the tension coiling in your abdomen, a tight knot of anticipation and need. Derek's breathing grows ragged, his hands gripping you tighter, his hips thrusting upward to meet your movements.

With a final, powerful thrust, the tension breaks, and you are both swept away in a wave of ecstasy. Your body trembles, convulsing with the force of your climax, and you cry out, the sound a raw, primal expression of your release. Derek follows moments later, his grip on you tightening as he finds his own release, his body shuddering beneath yours while he fills you up.

As the waves of ecstasy wash over you both, there is a profound sense of release, a catharsis that leaves you trembling in each other's arms.

Your fingers trail down his face, your touch lingering as you lean in. The kiss starts gently, but quickly grows more passionate, fueled by the emotions that have been running high. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer. The world outside the jet feels like a distant memory as you focus entirely on the man holding you.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are soft yet intense, filled with a depth of emotion that leaves you breathless.

You find a moment of perfect unity. Derek's eyes lock onto yours, and in that gaze, you see everything: his fears, his love, his desperation to hold onto this moment, to you.

You feel a flutter in your chest at the intensity of his stare. Something that wasn’t for once pure lust and desire.

He found the person he wanted to be with for the rest of his fucked up life.

“Get up” he ordered.

Confused and reluctant, you get up, watching as he starts looking for something in the small space. At first, you think he's succumbing to his paranoia again, searching for hidden listening devices. But then he turns back to you, a small box in his hand.

"I didn't tell you this before" he says, his voice taking on a cocky edge that you’ve known well enough “but with our new identities, we're already married." He opens the box, revealing a beautiful ring. "Thought you might want to wear this."

Your breath catches as you look at the ring, the light catching on the intricate design. He slides it onto your finger, his touch gentle but sure. "Consider it official" he says with a smirk, his eyes never leaving yours.

Of course he did it.

A married couple might appear more credible to outsiders. People tend to trust couples, assuming they have a stable relationship. This credibility can help you two navigate situations where you’ll need to prove your identities.

Being married can offer legal advantages, as potentially having access to each other’s health insurance.

Pretending to be a married couple would allow you two to share responsibilities convincingly. You could claim joint ownership of property, share household chores, and explain your presence in a new location.

It was all strategic but your heart was still overwhelmed by joy at the fact that you now had this connection with him, now that everyone will consider you two married, together till death separates you.

Your rationality was forgotten on the road as your feelings took over entirely.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you look at him sitting down on his seat. "Derek, I-"

You can't help but laugh, a mixture of relief and joy bubbling up inside you while you roll the ring with your thumb. "You'll never change, will you?" you say, shaking your head.

He pulls you back into his lap, his arms wrapping around you. "And you love it" he murmurs against your ear, his breath warm on your skin.

"We're in this together," he says again, more firmly this time. "And nothing is going to change that."

You nod, a smile breaking through the tears. "Together."

Derek pulls you into a passionate kiss, scaling the promise of a new beginning.

༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒

The next few hours pass in a blur as you and Derek finalize your plans.

When you landed, it was under the cover of night. The air was crisp, the world around you silent and still. Derek's contact met you, handing over the new documents that would solidify your new identities. You land in a remote location, far from the prying eyes of the media and Derek's enemies.

A safe house has been arranged, a secluded villa nestled in a quiet coastal town. It's a stark contrast to the lavish lifestyle you’ve grown accustomed to, but the simplicity brings a sense of peace you didn't know you needed.

Days turn into weeks as you and Derek adjust to your new lives. The fear of being discovered lingers, but the tranquility of your surroundings provides a welcome respite. Derek's paranoia slowly fades away, replaced by a cautious optimism.

Derek was different here, the weight of his past gradually lifting as he embraced the anonymity and simplicity of your new life.

Your relationship with your ‘husband’ deepens in this new environment. The bond you share is strengthened by the trials you've endured together. The more time you spend with him, the more you understand the complexities of his character. Beneath the layers of deceit and manipulation lies a man who has been shaped by circumstances beyond his control, driven by a desire to prove himself and gain his mother's approval.

As the weeks turn into months, you and Derek continue to settle into your new lives. The fear of discovery never completely disappears, but it fades into the background as you focus on building your future together.

Derek takes on a new project, using his business acumen to help improve local entrepreneurs, while you find fulfillment in volunteering at a community center.

Now, you stand on the balcony of your secluded villa, the cool breeze carrying the scent of salt and the distant melody of the ocean. Derek stands beside you, a glass of scotch in his hand, the moonlight casting a silver glow on his features.

"You know '' Derek begins, his voice carrying a note of disdain, "these people have no idea how to run a business. They stumble around, thinking they can manage with their outdated methods and lack of foresight. It's almost laughable”

You can't help but chuckle, the sound mingling with the rhythmic crash of shaking your head. His arrogance and confidence never disappeared, and it’s always quite endearing.

"Oh, Derek," you say this time, “you'd learn to appreciate the charm of simplicity with time, don’t worry."

He smirks, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Charm? There's nothing charming about inefficiency: Did you see how that baker runs his shop? No marketing strategy, no expansion plans. It's a miracle he's still in business." He makes use of his beloved vape, blowing the smoke in your direction.

"True" you reply leaning against the balcony railing and waving your hand around to get rid of the smoke, "but some people are content with with what they have”

Derek takes a sip of his scotch, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sea meets the sky "Contentment is just another word for complacency. They don't realize how much more they could achieve with a little ambition.” You smile, reaching out to touch his arm. "Not everyone has your drive, Derek. And maybe that's okay”

He turns to you, his expression softening as he places his hand over yours, playing softly with your ring.

Derek sighs deeply, his gaze turning back to the ocean, "Do you remember the first time we came here?" his voice softer now. "How I complained about the lack of five-star service and high-speed internet?" He asks

You laugh, the memory vivid in your mind. "Yes, and I remember how you almost turned the car around when you saw the dirty road leading to the villa. And the face that you made oh my god-”

You couldn’t continue due to your incessant laughs, covering your face with both of your hands to suppress the sounds.

He chuckles as well, a rare sound that warms your heart. "It's amazing how much has changed. I never thought I'd be able to live without the constant hustle and bustle of the city.”

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. "I think we both needed this. A chance to start over, to find out who we are without all the noise."

"I talk about us all the time, you know, to anyone who will listen. The locals must think I'm crazy, always going on about how much I love you.” You laugh again, a bright, joyful sound. "And they probably think I'm just as crazy for putting up with you."

“By the way, you gotta stop doing that” you pointed a finger at his direction with a fake threatening tone “everyone keep saying how lucky I am to have a husband like you”

“Why? We need to let everyone know how happy we are together” he countered with a playful tone. He leaned forward and trapped you in a tight grip in his arms, prepping your face with multiple and chaste kisses as your laughs never stopped.

The light and wholesome moment soon came to an end, the peace and sound of the waves return.

Derek is silent for a moment, then he turns to look at you, his expression serious. "Do you ever regret it? Leaving everything behind, starting fresh?"

You shake your head slowly, "No, Derek. Not for a second. Being here with you, away from all the corruption and lies... it's the best decision I ever made. Even if it's hard sometimes.”

“Thank you” he whispered so softly you almost didn’t hear it under the sound of the waves.

"Always," you reply softly. "I'll always love you, Derek."

You lean in and kiss him, a promise of the future you will build together. As you pull away you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. For the first time in a long time, you feel a sense of peace.

Your life, though imperfect, stood as a testament to the power of second chances. Both you and your lifelong partner will seize every moment granted by the latter half of your journey.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Note: thanks for reading. This was so fun to write, let me know if you liked this one. It's definitely one of my favorites that I wrote

[rosekeu]

[ Moonlight on the River ]

Sypnosis: The final battle came way earlier than you expected, and amidst all the chaos, your lover got wrapped up in its twisted fate. How were you supposed to react when you couldn't do anything to save the boy you had loved since childhood?

A/N: manga spoilers, implied death, hurt no comfort, angst. 1.7k words. listen to moonlight on the river by mac demarco or space song by beach house.

[ ao3 link ]

”Gojo, please you need to listen to me. Please, you don’t get it.” You violently sobbed, gripping your mentor’s wrist, pleading with him to listen. His eyes swept over you making sure you weren’t hurt.

Blood began to drip from the gash on your neck as you paused to take a couple shaky breaths trying to calm your nerves. “Please, you can’t kill him. I need him. He’s still Megumi.”

“You can’t do this to me…please Gojo.”

“I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT HIM PLEASE!” He stayed silent. You waited for him to say something, anything.

You stared back at him, clenching your fist as your eyes darkened, “I don’t care what happens to me, I need him back no matter what.”

You glanced at the figure looking past Gojo, it was wearing Megumi's face and body but the rest belonged to the evil man, the curse, who destroyed the place you used to call home. The same man who stole your friend's humanity away. Even more tears began to fall down your face as you turned to Gojo with a defeated expression, sadly still containing a miniscule glimmer of hope. A tiny part of you hoped that your lover could return safely. A tiny part of you naively believed.

“Is she alright?” Gojo asked Yuuji, who wasn’t standing too far away, still avoiding your piercing gaze. “Except for the gash on her neck, there’s only a few bruises on her so she should be okay…for now.”

As Gojo started to free himself from your grip, he threw Yuuji a knowing look. And suddenly, you were trapped in Gojo's arms. “No, no, no. GOJO! PLEASE NO!” You struggled in his hold, but he only tightened it in response

"Everything will be okay.” Your mouth fell open as your eyes widened. You could feel your chest tighten as the panic rose within you as Gojo’s hold on you tightened. “Just leave it to me.”

You begged him to change his mind, desperate to get away, but his expression was unwavering.

“LET GO OF ME! PLEASE!”

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” You pleaded, tears streaming down your face, hoping that your desperation would somehow break through to him.

As Gojo walked towards Yuuji he handed you over to him. The boy with pink hair had a strong hold on you while wearing a solemn expression.

“NO! PLEASE GOJO ITS MEGUMI!“ You started screaming out to your teacher once more, your voice breaking. Despite your agony, Yuuji knew this was for the best. It was the right decision for you to suffer.

"PLEASE, I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT HIM!” Your words were ignored as the King of Curses fought with your teacher, while using the body of your lover as a puppet. You could feel the desperation rising inside of you as the fight progressed. You felt utterly helpless when you realized that your pleas had been ignored.

“Yuuji. Let me go, I need to stop him.” You seem to be in dire need of anything to occur. Something that is going to alter Megumi's destiny. since you were aware that one of them would die if they got into a duel. There was a sense of impending disaster hanging in the air, pressing you to do something.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

You attempted to escape his hold, thrashing in his arms but it was in vain as his grip on you only tightened. Yuuji led you to the sidelines where the rest of your comrades were watching the battle take place. You cried out in pain, anger, and most of all sadness.

The raven haired boy you grew up with was going to be killed.

You never got to say goodbye.

There were so many unspoken words between the two of you.

You needed more time.

You needed a chance to unravel the tangled emotions and express what you truly felt.

The weight of those desires lingered, leaving a deeply rooted seed of regret. But alas, moments slipped through your fingers like sand, and now all that remains in the haunting presence of what could've been.

You needed to hug him one last time.

You needed to kiss him one last time.

As if pleading with the universe

You needed to see him smile again

You needed to hear him laugh again.

You needed to touch him again.

Would the universe make you forget his face after all this was over? Would the universe grant you the mental peace of fading memories and erase the pain which would linger in your heart? Or would it be a cruel and unforgiving reminder, tattooing his face deeper into your mind, tormenting you with what might've been?

Unfair. Unfair. Unfair

Why did it have to be him?

Why did fate choose to intertwine your paths, only to keep you both apart? So many questions and no answers, only leaving you to wonder about what a cruel twist of destiny the world had granted you. In the midst of the chaos all around you, thoughts of you and him kept flooding into your mind.

“The stars... they look really nice tonight–” You spun around to face Megumi. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” He but he was too busy focusing on you, instead of those stupid stars. To him you were much prettier.

He acknowledged the beauty of the stars. But compared to you, they were a dull contrast. You shined brighter than any star imaginable.

He cast a long glance at your lips before the two of you locked eyes. Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. He cupped your face with one hand and wrapped the other around yours. You couldn’t help but smile as you melted into his touch.

Another memory rang through your mind.

Fushiguro sat with his back against the wall, statue-still and cold. You reached out to hold his hand but he quickly withdrew.

You tried again but he said. “Don’t.”

His voice was laced with contempt. After today's mission, you were injured severely. And even though all of you came back alive, he couldn't spare himself from the guilt of not being by your side.

“Don’t what?” you asked, flatly.

His jaw locked, and he stared at you with empty eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

He glances at your bruised arms and fist. “I don’t–” He started and then he looked at the bandage that wrapped around your head and the limp you seemed to have on your right leg. “I don’t know what to–”

So that's what it was about. Your injuries…He wasn't mad at you.

He was mad at himself.

You place your hands on either side of his face with a firm hold. “Stop it.”

His eyes still avoid my gaze like the plague. “It’s not your fault. Everyone got a bit roughed up–”

He cut you off. “You were injured the most out of everyone else. And we were just facing a grade 1 curse, imagine if it was a special grade.”

You paused and pondered, what would've happened if the curse was special grade? Well, it didn’t matter now. The important thing is that you were alive and breathing. “There’s no point in thinking about that now. Stop torturing yourself.”

Megumi’s expression didn’t waver.

“I wasn’t there.”

“You were there when I needed you to be.” You said, hands sliding off his face to hold his hands. “I can take care of myself.”

“I swore I would be there for you and I wasn't. I swore to keep you safe and you weren't.” His words pierced your heart like a dagger. You wanted to reassure him that you were okay. That a few injuries meant nothing to you. And that it shouldn't be to him.

“I’m–”

“You were terrified.” His voice was filled with turmoil as he interrupted you. “When you called out to me, I’ll never forget your voice.”

Before he could keep going, you gently placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. "I understand why you’re upset," you whispered softly, "But please trust me when I say that I am stronger than you think. Plus after a few days I’ll be as good as new!” You smiled, and you leaned in to kiss him.

As your lips met, you could feel the mixture of relief and longing in the kiss. It was a bittersweet moment for Fushiguro, as he realized that while he was relieved to have finally expressed his concerns, there was still a lingering sadness knowing that he could have done something to change the outcome.

That was the first time you had seen him so worried about something or someone. “I love you.”

Punches were thrown at the concrete, causing the ground to tremble, and you were pulled back into reality. Yuuji was still holding you in his lap and Yuuta was healing you in the meantime applying his reversed cursed technique.

You grabbed him unexpectedly, mumbling softly, “Yuuta... I need him back...” He smiled sadly at you.

“I need to tell him that I love him one last time...” Your voice breaks at the idea and your eyes well up with tears. Yuuta’s hand cups your cheek, thumb caressing it gently.

“He knows.” Okkotsu reassures you, healing all your wounds successfully,“I promise.”

With a trembling voice, you whisper, "I don't know how I'll go on without him." The weight of your emotions hangs heavy in the air, as if silently begging for a miracle to bring him back.

Your face loses all emotion as you wrap your arms around Yuuji’s neck. To help you feel a little better, he holds you close and gently rocks you back and forth. You experience defeat. You can’t help but let your sorrow and regret consume you. As you bury your face in Yuuji's shoulder, you feel a mix of comfort and despair. The weight of your emotions becomes unbearable, leaving you feeling completely helpless. It's as if the world around you has come crashing down, and all you can do is surrender to the overwhelming grief. Your will to live escaping your bloody grasp.

"I’m home, there's moonlight on the river. Everybody dies."