#maybe its your fault. they all died for you. and now you have to kill them yourself
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pineconepie · 4 months ago
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Parental yandere mafia dad who kidnaps you takes you in <3
TW: Mentions of death, platonic yandere, forced age regression, infantilization
...
You know this is stupid, but you have no choice in the matter.
The worst thing is, its not even your fault you're in this situation. A family member made some horrible choices with a huge, well-known mob, and they died before they could pay off the debt they owe.
So, it falls on your shoulders now.
They said if you could do some favors for them, they'd let you live a peaceful life and never bother you again.
But either way, it seemed like death was almost inevitable.
"Hey person who has no experience with mob bosses and cartels, go gather intel on one of the world's most feared mob boss without getting caught! We're sure you'll do great!"
You're sure they're aware you probably won't turn up alive.
That's besides the point. You had a job to do.
And this is why you've found yourself here, entering a huge building with obnoxiously bright neon lights, the air smelling heavily of alcohol.
Its both a casino and nightclub, you figure, as you see a few gambling tables along with a large dance floor, and a bar in the far back. The ground is a little sticky beneath your shoes, and some weirdo bumps into you, clearly drunk.
The guy they asked you to gather information about is none other than Vincent Brewer. From what you've heard, he's ruthless, sadistic, fearless, and loves to flaunt his wealth and success.
His group, Cryo, dabbles in a little bit of everything.
Selling guns, manufacturing weapons, running casinos, killing those that piss them off... All things like that.
So of course, you're terrified out of your mind.
But you manage to make it past the bouncer and enter inside.
Its a nice place, despite all the crimes you're sure happened here. A lot cleaner than you'd expect for such an area.
Almost immediately, you see none other than Vincent himself.
He has short blond hair, hazel-green eyes, and a black suit with a trench coat draped over his shoulders.
He's smirking as he talks to what you presume are other members of Cryo. Vincent is pretty well-known for that smile. It's rare he ever drops it.
You wonder if its because he genuinely finds joy in anything and everything or because he feels the need to come off as tough or domineering. Knowing how much power he wields, it's probably both.
There's no time to stand and stare, though.
You approach, pretending to be one of them, but before you can back out and regret your decisions, he already has his eye on you. You feel like a rabbit trying to convince a den of wolves that you're one of them. And this is the biggest, meanest, hungriest wolf in the world.
"Well, hello," Vincent says. His smile doesn't leave his face, but softens a tiny bit. He looks you up and down. "I don't believe we've met. Are you new?"
Your hands are clammy and trembling, but you put on a fake smile and offer to shake his hand. "Yeah! I'm... (Y/n)." For a moment, you hesitate, considering maybe you should give a fake name just in case, but looks like it's too late for that.
Now that you think about it, you're definitely sure you were sent on a death-mission. Those people didn't even give you proper training.
"(Y/n), huh?" Vincent asks, shaking your hand. He's got a firm grip, as you expected. "Nice to meet you, kiddo. You seem a bit young to be one of my recruits, though." He brushes some hair out of your face, making you tense.
"I guess I look a bit younger than I am," you mutter. "I'm an adult, if that's what you're worried about."
He laughs at that. "Well, that's good! I'd hate to hear how a kid ended up with us!" Then he ruffles your hair, which is a bit embarrassing, but he seems so nice about it that it's not unbearable. "You're just a baby compared to almost everyone in this room. I think I'll need to tell the employees to make sure you don't drink or gamble. That's for grown-ups."
You relax when you realize he's teasing you.
Maybe that's a good sign? "It's okay, I don't really do either of those often, anyway."
Vincent lets out another chuckle, putting a hand on your back, leading you through the crowds and towards where the tables are. There's lots of other people sitting, talking, drinking, laughing. Playing cards or chess or something like that.
Just a bunch of regular casino things.
So far, so good.
This might actually end up working out after all...
"So why exactly did you want to join us?" Vincent asks as he sits you down at one of the chairs, pulling his own chair up next to yours. "Come from a wealthy family? Orphans? Wanted to get off the streets?"
You rub the back of your neck awkwardly, thinking of a suitable lie you'll remember for later. "Ah... I needed the money... Medical bills and stuff. Don't have any family to rely on anymore. Thought maybe if I could save up enough money, I wouldn't need to worry anymore..."
It's kind of true. After you get the information, they said they would reward you with enough cash to pay off whatever was still owed.
But whether that will ever actually happen is yet to be seen.
The more pressing issue was how Vincent would react. So far, so good. He hasn't questioned anything. Just nodded his head sympathetically and hummed at your explanation.
You continue. "And plus, Cryo seems really cool. No pun intended."
"Well, that's nice of you to say," he replies with a laugh. "We try our best around here. You seem a little jittery, though. I hope I don't scare you, kiddo?"
"I mean..." You can't really admit the real reason without outing yourself. He sounds like a man that wants to be feared by everyone. "I think this is just a new environment to me. I don't do too well with crowds."
Vincent nods understandably, patting your shoulder. "Makes sense. It is kinda noisy in here, huh? Sorry about that. Normally we're not like this, but tonight is a party night since we made a pretty big deal recently, as you're aware."
You nod, pretending to know what he's talking about. "Oh, yeah, I heard about that." This means you've already failed step one of your task - being updated on current deals - but that's okay. There's plenty of time to get the intel later. Right?
His eyes darken slightly, but his smile never leaves. "And besides... Can't say we're the nicest group of folks, either." He pokes your cheek and laughs again. "I'm worried this might be too much for you."
"Really, its okay!" you argue. "I'm a lot tougher than I look, I swear!"
He snorts. "You look like a puppy surrounded by wolves. Even if you're tougher than you look, it makes you an easy target. People are gonna be more quick to try to take you out instead of someone bigger than them."
Is he insulting you or genuinely concerned? You hope he's joking and teasing again. "I'll prove I'm strong enough to fit in! You won't have to worry about me one bit. And I can help out Cryo a lot, I promise!" You don't know why you're getting defensive over his condescending tone.
Vincent only seems amused by it, more than he already was. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers, smiling sweetly down at you. "Ohh, I'm sure you're veerrry strong, sweetie."
He sounds patronizing, in that overly-sweet way, as if speaking to a toddler.
He rubs your cheek a few times before leaning back and releasing you. "I think I'll let you stay if you answer one question for me, how 'bout that?"
You nod. "Of course. Anything."
His smile becomes more sharp. "Who sent you?"
"W-what?" Your mouth feels dry. The whole mood shifts, and suddenly it feels much less welcoming, making your stomach churn in panic.
Did you get caught that easily? How did you mess up? Maybe he's just bluffing.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Vincent stares down at you, eyes now narrowed. "You aren't fooling anyone, doll. We have extensive background checks before any of our members can even begin to be considered eligible for recruitment. I personally meet every single one of our new recruits to approve them and remember all of their names. Not only that, but I lied about a recent deal. There was no recent deal."
Your heart starts beating faster in your chest. You feel cold sweat dripping from your forehead.
He saw through you so quickly. Does he already know why you're here?
If you lie again, you're not sure you'll make it out of here alive. "Scarlet Syndicate sent me. I owe them debt, I'm not part of them... please don't kill me."
The man snickers and leans back against his chair again. "Oh, you poor thing. Its pretty clear they aren't expecting you to come back to them with info. They probably sent you here to die or get lost and forgotten about. That's cruel, even by my standards. They set you up for failure." His voice softens up. "You're shaking..."
You're hyperventilating a little, panicking. "I don't wanna die."
Vincent coos at you gently, wrapping a secure arm around you and pulling you into his lap. "Shhh, shh, hey... relax, kiddo, I'm not gonna kill you... I would never hurt such a precious little sweetheart." He kisses your head. "Calm down. Breathe in, breathe out..."
You listen to him and do as instructed.
Taking in deep breaths through the nose, letting them out from your mouth slowly. He rubs gentle circles along your back until you relax against him. He secures you in a firm hold and lifts you up against his chest.
Even for a mob boss, he has an impressive amount of strength to carry you with almost no effort.
You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.
He smirks at you again. "Aww... does baby wanna be carried everywhere now?" Though its teasing, its also affectionate. You find yourself nodding regardless.
Vincent walks out with you still in his arms, ignoring his colleagues' confused gazes. You can see the exit sign coming closer and closer.
Once you leave the building, he puts you inside a limousine with him, shutting the door behind. He gathers you in his arms after shedding his long beige trench coat, wrapping it around you and engulfing you like a blanket.
This man you hardly even know just called you 'baby.'
You're not quite sure what to make of that.
"Home," he tells the driver. And then he looks down at you. "You really are a little baby, huh?"
You don't know how to react to this sudden display of parental behavior, except stare in confusion.
He pulls you into his lap. "I always wanted a kid of my own, you know. But unfortunately, fate decided I couldn't have any of my own. Well, guess it doesn't matter now!" His eyes flicker across your face. "As soon as I saw you, I could tell you needed someone to take care of you. Like a dad."
"But..." you sniffle. "I'm not a kid."
"Maybe not physically, but I can tell mentally. And you should be grateful for that. I usually don't let any spies live long enough to see another day," Vincent says. "So what do we say?"
You hesitate. "...thank you?"
"You're very welcome, munchkin. When we get you home, we'll have some late dinner and then its bedtime for you," Vincent coos.
"I usually go to bed a lot later than this," you protest.
"Nope, not anymore," he argues back, petting your hair. "As much as I want to be the fun dad, rules are rules. Bedtime will be 8:30 PM for you everyday starting from now on, got it?"
You guess you don't really have a choice.
Not in a million years did you expect this outcome of you being caught spying, but hey, its better than death by gunshot!
The limousine stops outside a huge penthouse.
Vincent carries you out of the vehicle and holds your hand as he leads you to the elevators. Inside, there's a deskman who waves at him. You shyly wave back, a bit unsure.
"This is (Y/n). They'll be staying with me from now on," Vincent explains to him. "If you see them trying to leave without me, call security and tell them to escort them back to my place. And notify me."
"Yes, sir," he agrees, then looks back at you. "Nice to meet you (Y/n). I'm August. If you need anything, feel free to ask!"
You stare at him, then Vincent, dumbfounded.
Vincent pulls you along. "Come on, baby. Let's go home."
Inside the elevator, you're left in shock, speechless. It goes high up - the top floor - before arriving at a large, fancy room.
He unlocks the door to reveal his apartment.
The entire thing is covered with plush rugs, sleek furniture, shiny marble floors, beautiful lights... Everything you'd expect in a multi-millionaire's home, including but not limited to a grand piano sitting in the middle of the living room and two full-size couches in front of a flatscreen TV, and what looks to be some kind of bar or wine cabinet.
"You can explore more tomorrow," Vincent tells you. "Until then, let's get dinner over with and then bedtime. Tomorrow we can discuss how you want your room to look like, clothes, toys, that stuff. Sound good?"
"Yeah," you mumble in agreement.
Vincent sets you down on the sofa, where you watch him grab a remote off of the coffee table.
He turns on the television and flips through channels before settling on something he deemed suitable, which happens to be some sort of children's cartoon.
He begins cooking in the other room, and you're still in too much shock to even think of trying to escape.
This all feels so surreal.
Twenty minutes later, he calls you into the kitchen and has you sit down next to him while he serves you both food.
It's decent, his cooking skills aren't amazing, but decent. You don't mind eating it, though he does give you a stern look when you don't eat all your vegetables.
Afterwards, he guides you upstairs into what appears to be the guest room, saying he'll redecorate it to fit you later. He excuses himself for a moment, coming back with yellow silk pajamas for you to change into. You do so as he turns around to give you some privacy.
When you finish dressing up, he has you brush your teeth, then wash your hands thoroughly. Finally, he helps you climb into the bed, tucking you beneath the blankets.
You can't help but admit that the mattress is really nice.
Vincent smiles down at you kindly. "I'm glad we found each other today, kiddo." He kisses your forehead. "Dad will stay here until you fall asleep, yeah?"
Of course, you don't argue. He watches you like a hawk until eventually, you close your eyes and drift away.
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not-neverland06 · 10 months ago
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Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!
mistake
Logan Howlett x fem!reader
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a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.
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No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead. 
It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants. 
Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse. 
You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit. 
Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits. 
You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault. 
As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim. 
After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about. 
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“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight. 
Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that’s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine. 
You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 
“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look. 
He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”
He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes. 
The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror. 
You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.
“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it. 
You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”
“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face. 
“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him. 
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You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.
Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you. 
You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.
You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said. 
You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same. 
You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after. 
You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle. 
You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”
His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again. 
“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn’t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to. 
“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead. 
But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”
“Kid, don’t do this-”
“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills. 
His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself. 
“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again. 
“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”
You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands. 
Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones. 
Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.
The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore. 
Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it. 
You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her. 
But what do you do?
You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her. 
You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved. 
It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved. 
“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”
You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”
He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”
You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you. 
You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them. 
“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?” 
You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”
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You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage. 
Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe. 
As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again. 
He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better. 
You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years. 
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Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan. 
It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn’t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house. 
You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves. 
Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home. 
You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real. 
It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up. 
He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this. 
He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them. 
The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better. 
You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad. 
But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can. 
In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real. 
You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand. 
He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.
He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do. 
You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying. 
He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch. 
It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture. 
But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself. 
This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob. 
He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything. 
You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway. 
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You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since. 
But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing. 
He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt. 
But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse. 
You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.
You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better. 
You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh. 
Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive. 
“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped. 
He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you. 
It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy. 
“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns. 
He’s going to leave.
You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight. 
“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”
He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you. 
It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room. 
He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”
“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something. 
And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him. 
There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?
“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said. 
“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now. 
“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him. 
“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face. 
He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings. 
You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in. 
When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.” 
You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him. 
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end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp
Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  
@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @allllium  ♡ 
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andy-15-07 · 2 months ago
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Hi! I.m not sure if your requests are still open of if this is where we ask for them and if its not im sorry. I was wondering if you could do something with Joel where he finds her when he is trying to save Ellie. He finds out that reader is also immune and the fireflies were gonna kill her too. So he saves her and he becomes the only person she trusts and doesn't really talk to anyone but him when they get back to Jackson. Joel slowly falls in love with her and one day on patrol he kisses her because they almost died and he think it's now or never. if not it's all good. Thanks!
Something Better
PAIRING: Joel Miller x reader
WORD COUNT: 1290 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)
Pedro Pascal Masterlist
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It had been days since Joel had seen another human face that wasn’t trying to kill him.
Ellie was gone. Taken by the Fireflies.
His boots were soaked with blood and melting snow as he moved through the sterile white halls of the hospital, heart pounding, rifle tight in his grip. He’d done the unthinkable already. The doctors were dead. Marlene too. All for Ellie.
But just as he turned a corner toward the recovery wing, he heard a voice. Not Ellie’s. Quieter. Raspy. And scared.
"Please don’t take me back. Please... I didn’t say yes."
Joel froze.
He stepped closer and peered into one of the observation rooms. A girl, maybe a few years older  than Ellie, lay strapped to a hospital bed. Her arms were bruised from needles and restraints. She had dark circles under her eyes, lips dry, and skin pale,but she was very much alive.
And awake.
Her eyes widened when she saw him.
"Are you here to kill me too?"
Joel lowered his gun immediately. "No, darlin'. I ain't here to hurt you."
She looked so tired. So damn scared.
"They said I was like her. The other immune one. But I didn’t want this. They were going to cut into my brain."
Joel’s heart dropped. Another one? Another immune girl, treated like cargo. An experiment.
He crossed the room in two strides and started undoing the straps. "You're getting outta here. What's your name?"
She hesitated. "Y/N."
"Y/N, I'm Joel. We don’t have much time. Come on."
The drive back to Jackson was quiet. Ellie was unconscious in the backseat, safe, and Y/N sat next to Joel in the passenger seat, barely speaking.
She didn’t ask questions. Didn’t cry. Just sat still, staring out the window like she was trying to memorize the world in case it disappeared again.
Joel offered her food. Blankets. Water. Nothing made her flinch except when he touched her wrist by accident.
"Sorry," he muttered.
She shook her head, finally speaking, voice a whisper. "Not your fault. You didn’t put me there. You got me out."
Back in Jackson, life was... different.
Y/N was placed in a spare cabin. Ellie healed. People smiled again. But Y/N? She didn’t talk to anyone. Didn’t trust anyone.
Except Joel.
When she did talk, it was to him. In quiet places. On patrol. On walks. In the early morning when the rest of the town was asleep. She felt safest with Joel.
"You ever think about leaving?" she asked once, during a patrol.
"Used to. Not anymore."
"Why not?"
He looked at her. "Because you’re here. Ellie’s here. It’s the first time in twenty years I got somethin' to lose."
She turned her face away, hiding her blush. But Joel saw it.
They grew close. Closer than Joel expected.
He’d find excuses to patrol with her. She’d bring him coffee. They’d share quiet dinners. She’d sit by his fire when sleep wouldn’t come. And Joel? He found himself watching her laugh. Noticed the way her eyes crinkled. The way she said his name like it meant something.
He was falling.
Hard.
The day it all changed started like any other patrol.
Snow. Footprints. Clickers in the woods.
But when one came too close, too fast, Joel almost didn’t react in time.
Y/N did.
She threw herself between him and the infected, burying her machete into its throat. It collapsed at her feet.
Joel’s heart nearly stopped.
"Jesus," he rasped, grabbing her shoulders. "What the hell were you thinking?!"
She was panting, wild-eyed. "I thought it was gonna get you."
"So you just threw yourself in the way?!"
"Yeah! Because I care about you, Joel!"
Silence.
Their breath came in clouds. His hands were still gripping her coat.
"You what?"
She swallowed. "You heard me."
He didn’t wait. He kissed her.
Joel pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes. "I thought I lost you. I ain’t never felt that scared in my life. Not since Sarah. Not even with Ellie."
Y/N blinked, her chest rising and falling, trying to keep pace with the thundering of her heart. Joel's hand was still warm at her jaw, thumb brushing back and forth like he was memorizing the feel of her.
"Joel," she whispered. "You kissed me."
"I know. Shouldn't have done it like that, not out here. But hell... you got in front of that Clicker for me. And it hit me,I can't lose you. Not after everything."
Her eyes softened. She took his hand from her jaw and held it between hers. "I didn’t jump in front of it for fun. I did it because I care about you. More than I should. You’re the only one I trust."
He swallowed. Hard. "Do you... wanna go back to Jackson? We can talk more. Just you and me."
She nodded, cheeks flushed. "Yeah. Let’s go home."
They rode in silence the rest of the way, but their hands kept brushing. When they got to Jackson, the world was quieter, more forgiving. Snow lined the rooftops, horses snorted in the early dusk, and families bustled behind closed doors.
Joel led her to his house instead of hers. She didn’t fight it.
"You warm enough?" he asked after hanging up their jackets.
Y/N nodded. Her fingers itched to reach for him again. Instead, she paced a little, unsure.
Joel moved to the kitchen, poured two mugs of tea,one with a splash of whiskey, just how she liked it. When he handed it to her, their fingers brushed again.
"Joel, about what happened out there,"
"Let me say it first," he interrupted gently. "I've been fighting how I feel. Since the day I met you. You were scared, covered in blood and bruises when I pulled you out of that Firefly hospital. And yet, you looked at me like I was the only safe thing left in the world. I didn’t deserve that."
"You saved my life."
"So did you. You don't even talk to most people. You talk to me. Trust me. That means somethin'."
Y/N stepped closer. "It means everything. Joel, you're the first person I've felt...safe with. Like I'm not a science experiment. Not just 'the other immune girl.'"
He reached out, thumb brushing her cheek again. "You ain't just any girl, Y/N. You're strong. Brave. Kind, even after all you've been through. And goddamn if I haven’t been fallin' in love with you a little more every day."
She inhaled sharply. Her chest ached in the best way.
"I love you too," she said. "Even when you scowl. Especially then."
He laughed, quiet and rough, and closed the distance.
The kiss this time was slower. More certain. His hands slid around her waist and hers curled into the collar of his flannel. His lips were warm, chapped, familiar. The sound of their breath, the creak of the floorboards, the soft knock of teeth. All of it was them.
They moved together like they’d been waiting years.
Hours later, they sat curled on his worn couch, her legs draped over his, her head on his chest.
"You ever think about what comes next?" she asked softly.
Joel rubbed lazy circles into her back. "Used to be, I didn’t. Was too busy surviving. But now... with you? Yeah. I think about a lot."
She looked up at him, eyes glassy but sure. "I want a life. Not just surviving. A real life. With you."
Joel leaned in, kissed her temple. "Then we’ll make one. Right here. Together."
Outside, the wind howled. But inside, Joel held her like she was the last soft thing in the world.
And for the first time in years, she believed in something better than survival.
She believed in them.
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uncannydevotion · 4 months ago
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a/n: this is kinda based on my creepypasta boyfriend scenarios that i sorta abandoned after quotev died fgdjksfgs i miss it but it's kinda bad so i might just start over one day. idk. anyways bc of tht it'll include all the characters i had in tht story so <3 this is gonna be pretty short btw!!
includes: slenderman, jeff the killer, eyeless jack, homicidal liu, the bloody painter, and brian thomas.
warnings: mentions of injuries nd murder in slender's part, thoughts of harm against reader in both jeff and ej's parts, depictions of murder in jeff's part, cannibalism in ej's part, i can't think of any warnings for liu nd helen, post-mh canon that im making up for brian where he lives, some vague depictions of the sickness in brian's part.
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SLENDERMAN
Truth be told, Slender found itself feeling very confused after its encounter with you. It isn't sure if it has ever met a human that didn't flee at the mere sight of it. Even after all the static it forced upon you, you wanted to help it.
Not that it needed your help, really. It was used to people trying to hunt it. No human would ever be able to kill it, even if it did end up getting injured.
A mild injury, at that, but one you tended to nonetheless. Like it was a normal person. Like it couldn't tear you apart in the blink of an eye if it so desired.
And the weirdest thing is...
Slender doesn't want to kill you.
It was never fond of people trespassing in its forest, truthfully. Humans were annoying creatures. Expendable ones, at that. But you're the first one to ever worry about it. It found that to be interesting.
And it rarely ever found a human interesting. Perhaps that's why it didn't have any interest in killing you. Rather, it wanted to study you. Surely there must be something wrong with you to not be afraid of it, right?
Something it could exploit, something it could use to break you down and turn you into another proxy.
Hm...
Why does the thought of you becoming its proxy make it feel strange? How... interesting. Annoying, even. A feeling it wishes to study further, given the opportunity.
When it no longer felt your presence in the forest, Slender found itself hoping to meet you again soon. Preferably when there's not someone trying, and failing, to kill it.
JEFF THE KILLER
Jeff was feeling pretty damn frustrated, to say the least. He'd been eyeing you for weeks, planning out the perfect time and perfect way to carve you up so you'd end up on the news. He was never supposed to interact with you.
But then some drunk bastard had to get all up in your business on your walk home, and he was not going to risk some other guy killing you before he got the chance to.
Even worse, Jeff had given you his name. All because of your damn frown when he had tried to ignore you.
What the fuck was wrong with him!?
Really, the only way to vent his anger and frustration was by brutally murdering the man who had harassed you.
But even as the blood stained his clothes and his hands, you never left his mind. You, and your stupid fucking smile, and your stupid gratitude.
He knows you're not an idiot. You know that he's been watching you for a while now, and yet you spoke to him so easily. You thanked him like he was someone who deserved it. Maybe you were an idiot, actually.
The knife sunk into the drunkard's chest, and Jeff sighs in mild annoyance when he realizes the man had finally died.
It all ended far too quickly for his liking, and it looks like he went a little overboard this time.
This was all your fault.
He needed to see the life leave your eyes. Maybe then this annoying feeling in his chest will go away, and you'll finally leave his thoughts.
EYELESS JACK
Jack was feeling rather pleased with himself.
When he entered that neighborhood tonight in search for some dinner, he had made a pretty decent meal out of some guy. He was still feeling pretty hungry by the time he had finished, so it felt like fate when a light shined through the window and illuminated him.
He met your gaze across the street from the safety of your own home, blood staining his hands as he lowered the mans lung from his mouth.
You'd be his next meal, he decides.
And as soon as you looked away from the window, Jack was discarding his forgotten dinner and sneaking his way across the street to your home. It wasn't hard breaking in, your window to your bedroom having been cracked open.
It didn't take him long to find you either, sitting in your kitchen staring at your coffee machine, looking as if you were going to fall asleep right then and there.
You had acted so calm at the sight of him, and it didn't take him long to realize that you thought you were hallucinating from some form of sleep deprivation.
So, obviously, he was going to use that to his advantage. He asked to eat you, and you had agreed. Well, you set some conditions. Something about being on your deathbed. That's neither here nor there.
All he cared about was the fact that he was going to be able to make a meal out of you in the future, he just had to wait for you to drop dead.
He'll make sure to pay a visit to you again soon, to keep you healthy. He wants you to taste good, after all.
HOMICIDAL LIU
As soon as you left Liu alone in the church, he could practically feel the excitement coming from Sully, the man basically crowding his mind asking if they'd see you again soon.
He's not sure what you did, but you certainly made a lasting impression on his alter. Which was shocking, in all honesty, because there's not many things that can keep Sully's attention.
Maybe that's why you were still alive. He can't remember a single time Sully spared someone, even if it meant getting his ass beat and leaving Liu to tend to the wounds.
Of course, just the fact that you had tried to kill him left Liu with many questions. You seemed... trained. Like a professional, almost. Sorta like a hitman, honestly. Which made him wonder... did someone put a hit on him?
Crazy line of thought, honestly, but given the way his life has turned out, it's not all that shocking.
Sully is the one who comes up with the idea of searching for you. If you were a hitman, then they could employ you to help find Jeff.
And while Liu didn't like the idea of getting an outsider involved in his... family drama, if that's what you want to call it, it wasn't a bad idea. He had reached a dead end, so an extra set of eyes could be useful.
And lucky for Liu, he was pretty good at tracking people down. He'd see you again in no time, surely.
THE BLOODY PAINTER
Helen had joined this art class mostly out of boredom. He didn't need anyone to teach him how to draw, he just... needed something to do when he wasn't searching for a new person to make a project out of.
Honestly, a few weeks into joining the class, he had considered dropping out. But then you showed up, and you started interacting with him.
It was never anything major, just a small greeting every time you crossed paths. It was enough to make Helen aware of you, and that was enough to draw him in.
He knew you weren't interested in art. You were probably only there out of boredom as well. You rarely ever tried when it came to drawing, but he could see the potential in you.
So when the teacher of the class presented an optional project to participate in, Helen was already getting up from his seat to ask you to be his partner in this project.
He didn't need you to draw, he just needed you to be his model.
Not to mention you were the only person in this whole class that he felt remotely comfortable working with. The other people who attended this class were all... reminders.
They made him think of people he'd rather not think about.
But you were different. Special.
He'd make sure to paint you the perfect portrait.
BRIAN THOMAS
Brian was completely out of it when he had first met you, honestly. He was still trying to process that fact that he was alive, somehow. Memories of his death making his head pound, confusion the only thing he can feel other than pure and utter nausea.
Truth be told, a part of him thinks you're someone he conjured up in his mind to keep himself alive a little longer.
It's not until he takes a long shower and pops some pain meds that he's able to gather some of his thoughts and come to terms with the fact that you were one, very real, and two, he was... far away from home.
He's not even sure what town he was in right now, let alone what state. All he knew was that he had been taken to some shitty motel by someone who probably should've dragged his ass to a hospital instead.
And when Brian no longer felt like he was going to die from the world's worst migraine, he found himself revisiting the place you had found him.
Some abandoned and overgrown park in the forest bordering this weird town where the locals pretended he didn't exist.
Partly because it was the only secluded place he could think of where he could look through footage on the camera he had been carrying with him for some reason.
But mostly because he wanted to see you again. To thank you for helping him out when you had.
Not to be dramatic, but he probably would've actually died if you hadn't been there, so.
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tiredofthehumanlife · 5 months ago
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Is he mine? Fucking obviously.
also btw I color code my titles I don't pick them like this for the aesthetics of it
Barbie dolls: Touya Todoroki x gn! reader
Word: 6.5k
Summary: Touya almost died on national television and disappears from from the public's eyes with no way to contact him you decide to keep your pregnancy a secret from him
Warning: You get pregnant! idc of its m!preg or abo or magic or just bareback fucking that got you there I'm just telling you you got pregnant, you keep the baby btw, your son is named Kaito (which according to name berry means sea so there), your son refers to you by Ren and Rena which is a gender neutral term for parent it's like mom and dad essentially, you fuck dabi at one point it's not smut it's just mentioned, Touya goes to rehab and so if he's ooc then it's rehabs fault not mine, I am kidding but he is definitely not exactly dabi core dykwim, you grieve Touya even tho technically he's alive it'll make sense when you read it but you cry a couple times just fyi, idk man, mentioned once that you wanted children before w Touya, 'crotch goblin' used I j feel like that's some shit dabi would say but I digress, Elmo reference tell me if you find it, possible allusions to Kaito being autistic but like boo fucking hoo idk, mention of blunts, SIDs mentioned once, also mentioned that you may or may not have anxiety especially over your son, yeah okay lmk if you any blue words I didn't do that on purpose
part two
Before the war, you knew Dabi. You knew Touya, as well. When he was watching over you from the shadows during the day, he was Dabi. When he was buried in your arms hiding under your sheets, he was Touya. You kept him close to you, there wasn’t another way you’d like to live. You hated to say it but you needed his eyes and hands on you. You didn’t care what he did during the day or even at night as long as he wandered back to you through your door. You didn’t care if you both sat on the couch and stared at the TV or if you ripped his clothes off with greedy hands, as long as you could feel the abnormal heat of his body on yours. Maybe that made you morally questionable, you didn’t care. You knew who you were and you knew who he was. You knew your lungs would collapse if you couldn’t see those blue eyes again. 
After the war that all changed. Watching your lover almost kill himself on live television made you feel sick to your stomach. You had to leave the building entirely, only to find it broadcasted all over the screens of passersby’s phones, billboards, and the small television behind the counter of every convenience store. You hid under your sheets, hoping when you woke up they would smell like him because he was lying next to you. 
You heard of his whereabouts through coworkers' gossip, news articles, and murmurs from the public. None of whom knew you had kissed him goodbye the morning before, having no idea what was to come. You read every article you saw. You eavesdropped on every conversation. You bought every magazine that even slightly mentioned the Todoroki family. You knew the only way you’d know if he was okay was through the third-person retelling by a reporter. 
He was in severe recovery. He was in one piece, technically. His father was paying for his bills. He was likely to be alright. 
Really that’s all you needed, yet somehow it still wasn’t enough. You needed to see him and hold him. You wondered if he was eating solids or if he was on a tube. You wondered if he needed you to add another row of staples. You hated when he asked that of you, you couldn’t turn him down when he looked up at you with his pleading eyes. It made you feel sick to your stomach but you were the only one, besides himself, he trusted to do it. What you would give up now to groan and complain about having to replace his staples. 
Slowly as time pulled along, Touya made the news less and less. You took fewer magazines from their rack, his face didn’t make it to the television, and you felt his image slipping away from you. 
Your sheet smelled more like you than they did him. His clothes had been through the wash multiple times now. You kept tossing them into the dirty hamper straight from the dryer because you couldn’t bear to throw them away or hide them in a closet. Your stack of newspapers and magazines stayed stacked at the corner of your desk. You cried when you had to sweep up the dirt from his boots by the front door. Then you cried for crying over that.
You felt pathetic the way you started to hate him for all this. You wanted to slap him and jab your finger in his face. You wanted to call him a selfish bastard.  You cried in your kitchen when you realized you accidentally bought his favorite foods as second nature. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he had just slipped from your life like that. 
He was alive, yes but alive in the same way a relative across the world was. You knew they were out there but it’d be a cold day in hell before they were in your living room. 
You slowly pieced yourself back together. His clothes were folded and put away on the shelf of your closet. You stopped looking at them when you started to get ready for the day as time went on. You stopped buying his food. You threw out most of the newspapers, only keeping the pages that really mattered. You folded them all up and shoved them into a drawer in your desk. You stop seeing him everywhere in your home. You stopped seeing him in your mind. 
Just as you were getting back on your feet, the world played a sick trick on you. You found out you were pregnant. After some thinking and a lot of it, you made your decision. You were keeping it. Yes sure it came out of nowhere. Yes sure your baby would be raised in a single-parent household. You always wanted this. You thought of asking Touya about it sometimes but you always chickened out. Now you wouldn’t be doing it with Touya, but you could have the life you wanted. A child. You were ready, you felt it in your bones. 
You had the baby. For months before the due date, you had scoured for name ideas. You wrote down names you heard over conversations in cafes. You read every article. You considered naming your baby after Touya. You scratched that idea after realizing you’d like to have his consent for that. You thought of him on your couch over seven months ago. He would’ve said ‘Hell no. Don’t name one of those crotch goblins after me.’ You bought books on the very subject. You slapped post-it notes to your fridge when you found one you liked. Yet all that came crashing down when you finally had your baby in your arms. 
You were fucking worn out. Your hands felt like they were going to cramp from all the squeezing you did to the handrails and your poor nurse. Your hair was sticking to your face. You felt like you stinked. Your lungs felt heavy and your ribs felt tight. With your little ‘crotch goblin’ in your arms you felt a smile grow on your face. 
His face was scrunched up in a cry, a tiny fist pressed against his cheek. You gently rubbed the side of his face with your finger, trying to calm him down. His cry settled as he pushed his face toward you. You whispered a hello. You were fully encapsulated by him, your son, you paid no attention to the doctor still between your legs. Your baby let out a coo as he opened his eyes, staring up at you.
You knew babies could really see at this age, he was probably just looking in the direction of your voice. Whether or not he could see you had no effect on the color of his eyes. You knew them. They were the same ones who would stare at you from across your room as you got ready for bed. The same ones that would plead you for new staples. The same ones that sat across from you during dinner. The same ones that reminded you of the cold and freezing sea. 
“Kaito.” You muttered, earning a coo from him. You nodded. “Yeah? Do you like that name?” he huffed and pushed his nose towards your arm. You hummed. “Kaito it is, then.” 
A year and a half went by before you ever heard from Touya again. You were doing some cleaning while Kaito was at daycare, hurrying so you could still have time for relaxation before you had to go pick him up.
You loved him dearly but a toddler was a lot to handle. Especially alone. You found a daycare nearby that you trusted, and your mental health picked up drastically. A few hours of silence on the weekends and time to work from home without a toddler trying to lick a socket was all that you seemed to need to feel whole. As you were throwing his toys back into the large basket on the other side of the living room, you heard a knock. You paused before throwing the toy truck. You moved to the front door, peeking through the peep hole. 
A woman with white hair and streaks of red, glasses, and a blue sweater was waiting at your door. You pulled away from the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. She smiled at you once she saw you. 
“Hi, can I help you?” You asked, smiling but feeling terribly awkward about the whole thing. She nodded. 
“Hi, I’m Fuyumi. My brother, Touya, was finally released from his mess of operations and hospitals. And he-“ Your smile fell when you finally registered the name. Yes, you heard it but you just didn’t think you’d ever hear that name again. It had just floated over your head. You realize this was his sister standing in front of you. You closed the door so you were squeezed between it and the frame, smiling like it was a perfectly normal thing to do. You couldn’t let her see the tiny rain boots, light-up sneakers, and brightly colored toys on your floor. Fuyumi glanced at you over the frame of her glasses, a slightly confused look passing over her face before she schooled it. She pulled her bag from her shoulder, rummaging her hand through it. 
“-is finally in rehab. They’re letting him have pencils now after strings being pulled by our father. Anyway, he-um- gave me these letters. He told me I needed to find you. He said he wouldn’t trust anyone else to give these to you. He considered our mom, but he said-“ 
“Letters?” You repeated, watching her hands as they dug through her bag. She nodded, looking up at you for a brief second. 
“Yes. here they are, finally.” She pulled a stack of three letters from her bag, sticking them out to you. You quickly took them from her, taking the top one. You shoved the other two into your back pocket, tearing open the envelope. You yanked the folded paper from the envelope, unfolding it as fast as possible. You skimmed over the words, trying to move your eyes along the lines faster than you could. 
‘Love -don’t care- I haven’t stopped thinking of you- wish you could come to see me-I need to see home- your bed- do you think of me-I’m not sure how much longer-I can’t add you to my visitation-I miss you.’ You paused, staring at his signature at the bottom. ‘Yours, Touya’ was simple but he didn’t talk of his feelings. Ever.
You were lucky if you found out he liked dinner. You traced over his name with the tip of your finger. You stopped, looking up at the woman in front of you. She was watching you intently like every move was being cataloged. You slowly straightened your shoulders up and pushed the letter back into the envelope like you didn’t care at all. You put the envelope with the other two in your pocket, pretending you weren’t itching to read the other two. You cleared your throat, staring at Fuyumi like a child caught misbehaving. 
“He tried to get your name on the visitation list but they wouldn’t allow it. You had to be family.” Fuyumi said, giving you a soft smile. You nodded, feeling Kaito’s finger painting on the fridge staring holes into the side of your face. 
“Might’ve been for the best. I don’t know I’m really the same person he…liked before.” You said, squeezing the door a little closer to you. Fuyumi shook her head. 
“I’m not sure if that’s true. He’s told our entire family about you. I don’t think the change would keep him from you. However, I don’t really know you, do I?” Fuyumi said, clasping her hands together in front of her. You nodded. It’s a bit weird knowing that she had a nephew a few blocks away and she didn’t even know if you and her brother were really dating at all. Well, you weren’t now but were you ever? You snorted and shrugged. 
“It’s a lot of change.” You said, watching her closely. She hummed, pulling her bag closer too pher. 
“Well I have to go, I have lunch with Shoto soon. Just, think of sending him back a letter. I think it would be good for him to hear from you.” Fuyumi said before walking away from your door and heading for the sidewalk. You watched her go for a moment, feeling stuck in your place. You felt like you were watching Touya walking away again. You sighed before going back inside to finish reading the letters. 
You read the letters over and over again for a month. You read them so much you didn’t need to see the paper to think through his words. You spent your free time staring at the handwriting. You dissected the word choice, punctuation, and tone. You need to know every thought that went through his head. Kaito asked you what they were, in the words and format of a 1 ½-year-old would. You redirected him to his toys and started reading them only at night when you were alone in your room. You sat up in bed most nights, staring at his clothes on the shelf of your closet and picking at your nails. 
You thought through your two options. 
You could break his heart and tell him you couldn’t be with him. You had changed, you were someone new. You couldn’t see a future. You moved on. You had a new partner, one that didn’t have their face on the news. Whatever it would take to get him to move on. He needed someone else, someone not like you. Someone without a kid. 
Your second option was to tell him. Everything. He had already been through what a year or so of medical operations? That’s what Fuyumi said, wasn’t it? Now he was stuck in rehab, they just gave him access to pencils. He was slowly rebuilding himself. He was obviously making progress in the right direction, communicating. That was a big word for Touya. It was over paper but still. He used the word love eight times in those letters. Kaito would have to get adjusted to his family growing up. Change is hard for young children. Change is hard for you. You‘d be forcing this responsibility onto Touya. He’d either support Kaito or not. Either way, he’d have that thought in the back of his mind. Touya was barely standing on his own two feet right now. Most likely figuratively and literally. You couldn’t add a new stressor to his life. He’d throw a table or something and get his pencil rights taken away again. 
You made the mature decision to break his heart instead. You wrote it out carefully and edited it. You made sure it came off the right way. You sealed the envelope and addressed it using the information from the back of his letters. Maybe it wasn’t something that would make you liked by any of the Todoroki family, but it was better for them. You knew it. You told him it was the change. You had changed too much. You listed all the ways you weren’t the person he thought you were anymore. Of course, you jumped over the child-sized elephant in the room. 
You couldn’t bear to think of him crying over your letter. You wondered if his tears were still bloody. Most likely, that didn’t seem like something that was healable. You ignored the ache in your heart, pulling your son closer to you in a tight hug. You couldn’t think of Touya stuck in a sterile rehabilitation center. You couldn’t think of him reading your letter more than once. You couldn’t think of Touya at all, so you focused on Kaito instead. 
You didn’t get a letter back. You didn’t get any of his siblings at your door. Instead, you took Kaito to daycare, worked, took Kaito home, and went to bed ready to repeat. You and Kaito went on little adventures on the weekends, going to the park, play dates, swimming lessons, zoos, and museums. You couldn’t love your son and life more.
He was getting bigger. He was developing his own personality now, such a sweet boy he gave you cavities. Kaito was so bright. He was the smartest kid you knew and you weren’t biased at all in saying that. He was so beautiful and tiny. You wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and keep him in your pocket forever. Some days he would run through the living room like a plane and all you could remember was when he fit in the crook of your arm. He was so curious he asked you about the world every day. Some days he came home from daycare with a fun fact you never knew. 
The day he manifested his quirk was on the weekend in the backyard. You were on the back porch, watching him run back and forth through the oscillating sprinkler. You sipped your tea slowly, easing your anxiety about him slipping.
Kaito flung his hero doll through the water. It thunked in the grass, face first. Kaito yelled that he was coming to save the hero. He pressed his wrists together, jutting his hands out like a stream of power would rush through them. He jumped up, pushing his hands out again and giving himself a sound effect.
As he passed through the water you saw sparks and flames envelop his hands and fly straight to the ground toasting the ground next to his doll to ash. Kaito landed in the burnt grass, freezing and staring down at his hands. You jolted up onto your feet, setting your tea down and rushing towards him. 
Kaito slowly turned around towards you, a scared look on his face. You scooped him up, wrapping him in a hug. Kaito pressed his nose into your shoulder, holding onto your neck tightly. It’s a bit scary to see fire shoot out of your hands as a three-year-old. You stared at the ring of burnt grass, thinking back on the fire around his fingertips.
It wasn’t blue like his father’s, it was red like a campfire. A part of you was happy, he wouldn’t have to struggle to control a quirk as hot as his father’s. Another part of you was sad, you kinda liked the idea of your son growing up to be a hero and showing the world his blue flame was still hero material. Maybe Touya could find it out that way. You didn’t even know if Kaito wanted to be a hero. Maybe he’d do something simple. A third part was scared, fire is easily destructive. Kaito was new to it, he didn’t know how to control it. Your house could be in ashes in days. 
Touya would’ve been worried if he had been on the porch with you. Hellfire, like his father. Like the father he tried so hard to destroy and landed himself in the hospital and rehab. What made his father like that? A father like Enji fathering Enji? That’s how it works isn’t it, like passing sand from hands to hands, the trauma follows you in a terrible circle. 
Well, your son would have less sand, he’d love who he is. You pulled Kaito away from your neck, leaning your head back to get a full look at his face. His eyes were glistening and he was pressing his fist to his cheek. The image of him as a newborn in your arms passed over you. You wiped at the tears on his cheeks, kissing them afterward. 
“You got your quirk, Kaito. Isn’t that so exciting?” You said, smiling widely to settle his anxiety. Kaito pulled his hands from his face, looking at you confused. You bounced him on your hip and started spinning around, squealing about his quirk. You rested your hands on his back, dipping him down so he hung upside down just a little. You passed his head through the sprinkler, making him laugh loudly. You pulled him back up, dancing away from the sprinkler and the burnt grass. Kaito shook his wet white mop of hair out, drizzling you with water. 
Two and half years pass before Kaito starts school. He’s settled into the routine. He knows the time you give him breakfast, the time he gets dressed, the time he brushes his teeth, and the time you leave. Kaito would rather burn all his toys than be late for school. He’s made plenty of friends there. He’s already been invited to two birthday parties in the few months he’s been there. You wonder if daycare was that beneficial to him. 
Kaito walks his clean plate to the sink, standing on his tiptoes to gently set it in the bottom. You praise him before finishing your own. Kaito heads towards his room, ignoring your words entirely. Every morning he was on a mission to get to school at exactly the right time. Once he tried to get you to force him to go to school while he was sick. He whined about his perfect attendance before you told him he could watch TV. He dropped the subject after that. A knock sounds at your door. You look over your shoulder before concluding it was the mail. Sometimes they needed your signature. 
“Kaito, you better not forget your jacket! It's cold out!” You shouted so he could hear you through his door. You stared at his face peeking through his door as you swung open the front door. You pointed at him sternly, earning an eye roll. Damn you, Touya. You turned to face the mailman, face falling at the man in front of you. 
His hair had grown out and the dye had long been gone. Touya’s scars looked… healthier. Healed a little, paler and a little more moisturized. His staples were removed. You assumed they had been replaced with stitches that had healed over a million moons ago. Half his piercings were gone, a stud in his nose and two in each ear were all that he had left. Or at least was wearing today. His clothes were more put together, relaxed but not in the scrambled way they were a few years ago. Touya stood bolder now like he found something inside himself during rehab that made his chest puff out. His eyes were all the same. You thought if you ever saw him again, you'd only see Kaito in his eyes. You only saw Touya. 
“I finished rehab.” Touya finally said. Your silence stood in the air, like a confession of everything. You realized he could see into your home, slowly moving towards the door frame and holding the door tightly against you. Touya watched you with a look you'd only seen once before. In the middle of the night in your dimly lit living room, a movie in the background as the two of you kissed for the first time without sexual intent behind it. 
“Evidently. You look good by the way, rounded, healthy. Um, what exactly are you doing here, though?” You asked, leaning back inside to look at the clock. Three minutes before Kaito left his room. Five if he was having wardrobe malfunctions. You leaned forward again, pretending you weren't on a time crunch. 
“I know you sent me a letter. I know you said you didn't think I'd still care for you because you've changed so much but I think it's pretty obvious I've changed too. I just wanted to ask if you could give us a second shot we could try again as the new versions of ourselves. Every day I was in there I've been thinking about you. I haven't been able to-” You leaned back again, one minute, three with malfunctions. You put your attention back on Touya, nodding to signify him to continue. He paused, pulling his hand from his coat pocket. “-Am I interrupting something?” He asked. 
You froze, dragging your eyes away from the clock. You met Touya's eyes, staring at him with wide eyes. You weren't getting out of this, you wouldn't be able to. You sighed, pinching your brow. 
“No, I'm sorry Touya. It's very sweet and genuine of you to ask this but I really think there's just a big-” you waved your hands between the two of you. “-hurdle between us that we'd have to get through. I just think you should find someone else to love and cherish or whatever it is people say.” You threw your hands down, looking at his face again. He looked cold, he looked like the man who would show up at your door almost six years ago with blood staining his clothes. Touya shook his head, a new look meeting his features. He furrowed his brows. He stared at the step in front of him. 
“I just don't understand. I feel like this came out of nowhere before the letters, everything was fine, and then all of a sudden you were too different-” Touya said. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you heard Kaito’s door open. 
“Rena! Can you help me button my pants? The button is hard.” You could hear the pout in Kaito's voice. It reached Touya’s ears. You know it did. He froze, eyes glued to the ground. You didn’t bother trying to hide the wreck of a child’s home behind you anymore. The cat was out of the bag. You kicked the front door back, revealing all the toys and children’s books thrown across your living room. Kaito ran up to you, holding his pants up with both hands. You squatted down, pulling his pants together. As you slipped the button through the hole, Kaito greeted Touya. 
“Hi! I’m Kaito. Do you have a quirk?” Ever the extrovert, Kaito wanted to be friends with everyone he met. You zipped Kaito’s pants up. You turned back, pulling his sneakers from the shoe rack. You might as well while you’re already on the floor. You glanced up at Touya to see him staring open-mouthed at Kaito. Kaito was unaccustomed with this reaction, gripping onto your shoulder. 
“Touya. My son asked you a question.” You said, pulling Touya from the depths of his mind. Touya dropped down to his knees, getting on eye level with Kaito. You pulled Kaito’s sneakers on, tying the laces and pulling over the Velcro strap. Usually, he put his own shoes on but with the new friend, you thought you should do it. 
“Hi. My name is Touya. Yes, I do have a quirk.” Touya responded slowly. Kaito was his, there was no way Touya hadn't realized that. It wasn’t frequent that you ran into someone with those eyes, that hair, and that smile.
You looked at Touya as you pulled Kaito’s other shoe on. Touya moved his focus from Kaito to you. His mouth was still a little agape, staring at Kaito with eyes that only you could understand. Kaito squealed, he loved showing off his quirk. You pulled back, leaning away from him, watching his hands. A whoosh came with the balls of fire enveloping his hands. Sparks flew around the edges. He grinned down at his ablaze hands like a crazy person. You smiled at his excitement, looking over to Touya. He stared at Kaito’s hands, face unreadable. 
“Okay, Kaito. That’s enough. No quirk in the house, you know that.” You said, wafting his hands with air. It never put the flame out but it made Kaito laugh. He put his fire down, a few disgruntled sparks flying after. After an unfortunate incident involving your arm and his quirk, you both learned that Kaito needed a few minutes to cool off before he touched something again. The scar was still on your upper arm, a tiny handprint the size of a three-year-old. You didn’t mind it as much as you thought it would. It only reminded you of your son. 
“Hands up.” Kaito held his arms above his head as you pulled on his laces. You looked at Touya as you tied them. Touya leaned forward and held his hand up, all fingers down except for his pinkie. Almost like a pinkie promise. You and Kaito both stared at his hand as his pinkie caught aflame. It looked like a little blue birthday candle. Kaito’s eyes lit up like his hands, a giant grin pulling at his cherub cheeks.
”Woah! Do you have fire too? It’s blue! That’s so cool!” Kaito said, his little hand reaching out for Touya’s. Touya and you both moved faster than light. Touya shot his hand away, the fire extinguishing, and his arm held far away from curious hands. You pushed Kaito’s hand away, sending it back to his side. Kaito looked confused, facing you. 
“His fire is very very hot, Kaito. It’ll hurt if you touch it.” You explained, pulling the Velcro strap of his shoe over the top of his foot. Kaito hummed, fiddling with his hands over his stomach. You stood up, Touya following. Kaito looked over your shoulder at the clock and then down at the graph you had under it with a picture of the hands and what step in your routine it meant. Kaito gasped, rushing away from you for his bedroom. You smiled awkwardly towards Touya. 
“Is he mine?” Touya whispered, his tone unsure if he was ready for the answer. You watched Kaito pull his jacket on before slinging his backpack on. His coat was just a little too big for him. It kissed the tips of his knees and every time you saw it you thought of Touya and his jacket hanging on your coat rack. 
“Yeah, he's yours.” you wanted it to come out with strong conviction.
‘Yes, Touya he's yours what are you going to do about it.’
‘No Touya he's mine but he's genetically related to you, yes.’
‘What do you want from this information, Touya'?
‘Get off my property Touya. Kaito isn't your problem’
All those months you spent planning how you'd beat him to pulp when you finally saw him again fell apart the second you looked into his eyes. Maybe that was Kaito's effect on you or maybe it was just the effect Touya always had on you. 
Touya nodded like he was accepting his fate, watching Kaito run up to you with your shoes. Usually, you didn't have your baby daddy standing on your front porch and you could get your own shoes. You pulled your shoes on quickly, keeping an eye on Kaito as he ran out the door towards the car. 
“Why didn't you tell me?” Touya asked, following after you as you locked your door and joined Kaito at the side of the car. 
“Not right now, I have to get Kaito to school so he can keep his perfect attendance.” You said, reaching over to pinch Kaito's cheek. He groaned and pushed you away, throwing his backpack into the backseat. Kaito pulled himself into his booster seat and buckled his seatbelt. You smiled at him, pecking his cheek and muttering praises to him.
Touya stood behind you, watching the whole ordeal and wishing he hadn't lost the first five years of his son's life. He didn't get to watch Kaito grow from a carrier that locked into the base to a car seat with a back to a booster seat. He didn't even know Kaito's favorite color. He didn't know anything about him. So with all that stirring in his mind, he whispered the one full sentence he could piece together. 
“Can I come too?” You pulled away from Kaito, looking back at Touya. He looked scolded. His shoulders were slumped and he was clasping his hands together at his stomach. He stared at you with wide eyes. You remembered when you grounded Kaito for trying to sneak out of the house at night. He wanted to go to the park, you had to explain that the park was something you visited during the day. He was sad at being grounded. 
“Yes! Rena, can he come? He can tell me at his fire! And his scars, they're so cool!” Kaito kicked his feet, thumping them against the back of the passenger seat. Your heart stalled at the mention of Touya's scars. 
“Kaito. Don't say-” you scolded only to pause when a warm hand rested on your shoulder. You had forgotten how warm Touya was. You missed not needing to pull your space heater from storage. You stared at Touya, eyes wild with concern. He shook his head, lips pressed in a tight line. 
“It's fine.” He muttered. You looked back over to Kaito who looked more than joyous to bring his new friend to school. You sighed, shrugging and moving for the front seat. 
“Get in.” You said, sliding into the driver's side. Touya quickly shut Kaito's door and slid in on the other side of the back seat. 
The entire drive you felt strange. You didn't like having your back to their interaction. A part of you worried Touya was teaching Kaito how to roll a blunt. Or maybe how to set your fire in your sleep. Maybe he was still bitter from the letter and all this was an act. 
The moment Kaito laughed so hard he started wheezing you took back all the negative thoughts you had about Touya. Kaito leaned over into Touya's lap, patting his leg as he wheezed. Touya chuckled with him, a relaxed smile on his face. He gently patted Kaito's back, turning his pat into a rub. Kaito sucked in a gasp of air before it quickly danced behind his teeth and transformed into another laugh. Touya panicked, a new worry that he was doing this all wrong, already turning into his father. His eyes shot to yours in the rearview mirror. You didn't catch them, focused on the road. He saw your smile and small laugh and felt his shoulders relax. 
Kaito had a hard time saying goodbye to his new friend in the school parking lot. Kaito complained and quickly latched onto Touya's arm, pressing his cheek into his scarred flesh. Touya patted his mop of white hair and wished him a good day. Kaito seemed to accept that, launching himself into the front seat to hug you goodbye with his arms around your neck. Kaito glanced over at the clock on the screen in the center of the dashboard. He muttered something and rushed out of the car, jogging towards the crosswalk. You and Touya watched as he was walked to the door by one of his teachers. 
You both sat in silence and stare at the door even after Kaito is long gone. Touya left the back seat and plopped himself into the passenger side next to you. You wanted to pull yourself out of your head and face him, but your eyes were glued to the door. 
It's been a long time since he was a baby. The first few months were hell on Earth. Everything sent you into an anxious spiral, his breaths were one second too long apart. You worried he was getting too much tummy time. You worried he wasn't getting enough tummy time. You worried about his diet. You worried about the sound of his cries. You worried about his number of cries. You worried about the cradle cap. You worried about SIDs. You worried sick over your son. 
To make matters worse, you worried sick over his father. The first year and then some you wracked your brain thinking about him. Where was he? What was he doing? How was he feeling? What state was his body in? Could he still feel? What was he feeling about you? Had he already moved on, found a cute doctor, or something? Was he too far gone and close to death that he didn't even have the time to consider things like that? Why hadn't he said something to you yet? Would he even like you still? Would he even like your son? Would he even want to know if he has a son or would ignorance be bliss for him?
By the time you had finally settled your anxieties over your son's father, Kaito taking up all your capacity for worries, his letter arrived at your door.
You stared at the door to his school, the brightly painted sidewalk making you feel warm. Touya was next to you now, staring at the same school. You knew where he was, what he looked like, the state of his body, his thoughts on you, and what he was doing. You could hear his breathing in your silent car. You knew it all and yet, you still worried for him. You wanted him to touch you again. His hand on your shoulder sparked something that went dormant after five years. 
“He is so…” Touya's voice fell like he wasn't sure the word to choose. You knew how the man from five years ago would respond. 
Annoying. 
Gross. 
Snotty. 
Clingy. 
Sticky. 
Have you had him tested yet? for anything because that child is just- 
“beautiful.” Touya finished. You felt the air in your car slip out the window. You dragged your eyes from the school door, looking at him. He wasn't looking at you, staring at the school. You furrowed your eyebrows. That word you had not expected at all. You thought you'd have to drive Touya home in silence and fully cut contact this time. 
“What?” you said, staring at the side of his face. Touya looked at you, finally meeting your eyes. Your shoulders sank. He unfortunately always had this affect on you. 
“Your son is so beautiful. He’s just like you. I look at him and all I see is you. Kaito is just…” His eyes traveled back to the door Kaito had disappeared through. You wouldn't see him again for a good six hours. 
“I can't explain it but he's just so perfect. I just don't understand how such a sweet person could have anything to do with me. Which is how I felt about you all those years ago. He is a carbon copy of you, you know that?” Touya said, a small smile playing on his lips. He sighed and stared at you, watching your face. 
“He is beautiful.” You paused, keeping your eyes on Touya. You stared at Kaito some nights when he was asleep in your bed from a nightmare and only saw a chubbier and less scarred version of Touya's face staring at you. 
“He looks like you,” you muttered, starting your car again. Touya sat back in the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt down.
“I have photo albums at home. Would you like to see?” you asked as you pulled out the school driveway back towards your home. Touya rubbed at his face. He quickly nodded. 
“Yes, I would,” Touya whispered, looking out the window. 
part two
305 notes · View notes
snowsinterlude · 2 years ago
Text
overprotective, lovesick, deranged.
(yandere coriolanus x reader)
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summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.
if i can't have you, no one can.
trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.
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"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.
Heads rolling for the one I adore
This may become a little brutal if I'm honest
But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"
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overprotective.
coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.
lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.
when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.
valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.
coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.
you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.
when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.
"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."
you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.
you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.
"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."
and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.
lovesick.
with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.
it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.
maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.
it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?
well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.
why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?
he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.
for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?
coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.
once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.
"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.
"yes?"
"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.
but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you
"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."
he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.
you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.
it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.
but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.
"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"
"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.
your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.
"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.
"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.
"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"
your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.
"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.
"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.
you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.
dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.
"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"
you shook your head, panic taking over you.
"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.
your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.
"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."
you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.
"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.
you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.
you were doomed.
deranged.
his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.
you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.
you still loved him after all, who would know?
not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.
"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.
"i do."
"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.
"i do."
you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.
that's what love is about.
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youryanderedaddy · 10 months ago
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Oleander
Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader
Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 
These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 
Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.
“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.
“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”
Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?
“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”
“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.
“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 
“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.
Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.
“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”
The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.” He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”
He kisses you. 
You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 
“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 
“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.
His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 
He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 
“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”
He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”
You roll your eyes.
“Dream on.”
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sunnie-angel · 5 months ago
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Free Fall
jason todd x gn!reader tags: non-graphic description of injury, allusions to death, offscreen violence, kidnapping, suicidal thoughts a/n: please mind the tags on this one, it does deal with some darker themes. it's purposefully ambiguous about somethings, so it's up to you to decide on the ending.
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the stars are beautiful. it’s not something you see often in a city like gotham, but the wind has blown the clouds and smog just right that there’s a clear little patch straight ahead. those same winds whip at your body. weightless, your stomach swooping right before the rollercoaster drops out. it’s cold this high up. should it be this cold? the chill bites at your fingers, at your thin pyjamas. your kidnappers hadn’t been considerate enough to let you take a coat and, well, in a minute or so the cold isn’t going to matter to you anymore. this is going to hurt. but that’s then and this is now and the stars are looking down so coldly, so beautifully alien to your petty little mortal concerns.
jason’s going to worry. you know him. he’s going to find some way to blame himself for this. he shouldn’t. it’s not his fault gravity always wins. it’s winning now. the stars are have grown further away, slipping through your fingers. you hope he doesn’t watch you land. hope that despite his best efforts to reach you in time that he misses the crack your skull will make against the pavement. there’s going to be blood on the streets. not just yours. the blood of every person that thought they could force the red hood’s hand.
the wind whistles, competes with the roar of blood in your ears. i’m sorry jay. the glow of the city gets closer. the street lights are getting brighter. the stars are fading, clouds blowing in to snuff them out. a motorcycle growls in the distance. he’s not going to make it in time. screams pierce the air. maybe the howl trapped in your chest isn’t so trapped after all. maybe it’s just the bystanders about to be traumatized by your murder. you close your eyes.
he’s not going to make it.
he’s not going to—
there’s a world where jason todd isn’t a monster. a world where he’s a good man, a good brother, a better husband. one where the city is a little safer for having him in it, fighting for it. that isn’t this world. any chance of that future died with you.
free fall, that’s what they call it when a body moves freely under the hand of gravity. free fall, that’s the death spiral he’s in. free fall — what you’d been in before he’d broken your fall. hands outstretched, arms nearly wrenched out of their sockets, tackling you. desperate to disperse the velocity, speed, gravity, the physics of it all. road rash and blood — not his — scarring his leather jacket. terminal velocity, terminal in more ways than one.
jason doesn’t like the gore under his fingernails. his kills are clean, efficient, deadly. he doesn’t have the heart to enjoy the suffering, not when his own heart had bled out on the pavement in front of a high rise to the lullaby of ambulance sirens. no the butchery is a message, a warning. dead, freshly dead, still screaming, what difference does it make? there’s got to be consequences for this kind of thing, a deterrent before anyone tries again. monster, the city whispers, and he howls back in wordless fury.
a better brother wouldn’t have cut the grappling line. a better son wouldn’t have fired the shot. a better husband — a better husband would have popped the question in the first place, the ring no longer sitting like a stone in his pocket. regret is a bitter, choking remedy. it goes down like acid then curdles into vengeance. but vengeance eclipses grief for brief, wonderful, moment and vengeance is something jason is long used to making do with.
free fall — that’s the descent of your chest, lungs compressing, so many machines strapped to your body you’re more machine than human. tubes to keep you breathing, tubes to keep you fed, electrodes to tell him when your heart is close to stopping its beating. rise. fall. time measured in the space between breaths. jason can’t sleep, can’t miss counting out a single one. no one can hurt you now, not when they’re all dead, not when the morphine runs so constantly in your blood.
wasn’t that the goal? no one can hurt you now. there’s no one left to save you from him either. his fault, for not being fast enough. their fault for trying to stop what needed to be done. jason’s slain monsters and he’s slain men and none of it feels like enough. come home darling, come home to me, but there’s no home left to come back to without you in it. antiseptic and bleached white walls, the steady beep of the monitor and the mechanical whir of the machine that keeps you breathing. that’s not home, just death’s waiting room. what does jason have to live for? what do you?
a blood soaked city in wreckage. a future of tests and maintenance and experimental treatments. the agonizing numbness of all the bridges burnt. no guarantee you’ll wake up ever again. vengeance sitting in his gut like a stone. no more laughter, no more tears. just the greyed out exhaustion of another day weighed down with grief.
the same day jason realizes he doesn’t have to outlive you is the same day he signs the forms. gets a terrified nurse to show him which buttons to push and then bars the doors. wait for me darling, i’m coming home soon. silence echoes without the constant machine noises. your chest doesn’t rise. the white white walls will be sticky and red soon, the mess unavoidable. wait for me.
free fall — that’s the last thing you remember when you open your eyes.
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mithaeesblog · 1 month ago
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Spideypool - One Bed Trope (Part 1)
Sorry for grammar mistakes!
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Deadpool huffed and puffed, as he ran as fast as he can, puddles splashing from every step he took. As the rain falls, the drops were starting to blur his vision, but he had no time to stop. Deadpool's legs were in so much pain, his lungs felt like it was about burst any minute now but getting out of this mess with his best friend, Spidey was the only thing he was worried about. Spiderman's web shooters ran out of fluid long time ago, resulting in them running away on foot instead of swinging around the town to escape. "Hurry! These guys have been hungry for ages and I'm so *not* into getting eaten right now! I just replaced my ass!" "And whose fault is that? If you didn't mess with the portals, we wouldn't be here right now, Deadpool!" "This isn't the right time to play the blame game!" Deadpool yelled as he jumped over the boxes of crates and trash cans along the way. Spider-man grumbled beside him, clearly annoyed by his response.
Right as they were about to turn the corner, suddenly, a vampire appeared in front of them.
"AHHHH!!"
In that instant, a high pitch scream escaped from both of their lips. Deadpool, who shrieked louder than the other man, quickly held onto Spidey in panic before shooting the creature in the chest again and again until he was sure it was no longer moving.
"Deadpool!" Spiderman gasped, his hand covering his mouth as he stared at the vampire then to Deadpool and back again to the creature dying on the pavement. Deadpool sucked his teeth in disapproval before shaking his head, "Yeah... sorry about that. Well, actually sorry that you had to see that, not really because I killed Freddy Krueger wanna be. Now, let's go!" Deadpool snatched Spidey's arm again, pulling him away quickly once he saw the crowd of vampires slowly catching up to them.
Although both had greater stamina than most people, the longer they ran, the more their heart started pounding uncontrollably. The burn in their chests and the cramps on their legs were starting to feel more painful than before, causing them to slow down and cough before Spidey saw something far away. It was something, a place where they could stay at.
"There! There's— shit" Spidey cursed before coughing hysterically and began hitting his chest repeatedly, while his other hand rested on his knee. "A shed—the shed," He choked, "maybe we can stay there for a while."
Before Deadpool could respond, Spiderman dragged him there immediately, the sounds of their heavy breathing and coughing rang through their ears as they headed for the abandoned building Spidey saw.
"You sure about this, Spidey? Looks like a vampire would live here too. A broke one or like maybe my wife died in here so I decided to stay to prove my love for her type kinda vampire, ya know?” "You got a better idea, big guy?" Spidey asked, hands on his waist as he looked at the abandoned shack in front of him. The windows, the walls and the roof were not in their best state but it was enough for them to be safe for the night. The stench and the nasty bugs crawling in were enough for them to be creeped out and doubt their decision but not enough for them to turn the other way.
Right as they opened the door, dust, dirt and broken wooden floors welcomed them.
"Uh-oh. Your spider senses tingling yet because mine is. Rat senses, in this case." Deadpool said in disgust as he watched the rats hide immediately under the covers and back to wherever they came from. As much as Spidey had more things to say, he was quiet due to exhaustion and from the pain on his joints that he was still experiencing. He decided to use this opportunity to take a deep breath and look around.
The shack was tiny but it was big enough for both of them. There were cobwebs all over the place, sounds of rats chirping and bugs lurking around the corner but after everything they have been through, this was nothing. Now, the rocking chair rocking on its own did scare him a little bit but the bed beside it looked comfortable enough. There was a tiny kitchen but none of them were usable enough for them to get some water.
"You found anythin' yet?" Deadpool asked as he looked at some of the old displayed pictures near the fireplace.
"Nope. Just a bed and rocking chair... that's moving on its own. Giving you ten bucks there's a ghost sitting there right now, and she'll watch over us when we sleep." Spiderman said as he closed the door to the bedroom, hoping and praying that chair was just moving due to other reasons.
"We can invite the ghost to sleep with us, as long as its legal and it wants to. I'm cool with anythin." Deadpool smirked, turning his head enough to see Spider-man groan and folded his arms.
"Sleep with us? You're sleeping on that chair. I will sleep on the couch."
"Why are you gettin' the couch? I'm bigger. Taller than you if I may add, so I need that more than you, spiderling." Deadpool teased, as he stepped closer to Spiderman and stood in front of him. Almost as if he was proving how much bigger he was compared to Spidey.
Spider-man glared at him, obviously not in the mood for jokes and useless arguments especially from Deadpool.
“Back off, dude.” Spiderman rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, pushing the man aside before walking to the couch and slumped onto it. Immediately regretting it once he smelled something one of a kind.
"God, what is that smell?"
"Rats, piss... and more rats, definitely. But hey- there's a sweet bed waiting for us-"
Spider cut him off quickly, "I got into this mess because you dragged me here and messed with the portals. So I sleep on the couch, you get the possessed bed if you want. Just pray the ghost living in here would forgive you."
"Come on, don't tell me you're afraid of ghosts! Look, vampires, batmans, zombies, yeah they're all real.. but ghosts? Come on, just sleep here. I don't smell bad, I promise sweetums."
After opening the bedroom door, Deadpool used his hand to beckon Spidey over. "Just in case you didn't understand because you suck at being a vampire, that sign meant come in." He giggled a bit at his joke before hiding behind the door to take off his wet suit. Letting Spidey to think which one was a better option: staying on the same bed with Deadpool or smelling like rat and piss for the rest of the night. Spiderman thought about revealing his identity at this moment or if he should keep his mask on. But then, the idea of him wearing his soaked mask for hours made him uncomfortable.
Eventually, the piss and pain all over his joints won. Spiderman stood up, and entered the bedroom, quickly backing up a bit when he saw Deadpool out of his suit. It was not the first time Spiderman saw him with just his boxers on but it was always a surprise.
Couch it was, then.
Right when Spiderman was about to leave, Deadpool turned around and took off his mask, tossing it on the haunted rocking chair. A smug look on his face immediately replaced his concerned look after he turned around.
"You're fine with me sleeping like this, right? You've seen me naked, I've seen you naked, and now we're about to sleep on the same bed. We're practically lovers, I'm sure this is alright."
"We've- no, we- when? You've never seen me naked."
"Blah blah blah, I've seen you shirtless. That counts now. There's hangers in the closet, just hang your suit there and I promise, I won't do anything you wouldn't want me to do. Do we have safewords though?"
"God, just head to the bed and knock yourself out." Spiderman retorted, as he moved aside, allowing Deadpool to go ahead and sleep first. There was a silence and hesitation that filled up the room, only the rain and his breathing were the only ones he could hear for a while before finally taking off his suit. There was a mirror Spiderman could look himself into. While he was unzipping his suit, he saw Deadpool on the bed, facing the wall like a kid who just got grounded by a parent. Deadpool facing the wall eased up the tension a little bit, making Spidey chuckle before finishing up.
Once Spidey was done, he stood in front of the mirror. Looking at the cuts and bruises all over his body. They were slowly healing but still, not as fast as Deadpool's. Spidey knew it was part of his power but it was still impressive especially when he almost became a part of vampire buffet just a few hours ago.
Then, there was Spidey's mask. The mask that covered not only his face but also his identity. Somehow, for some reason Spidey decided to finally remove it like he had no care in the world before throwing it next to where Deadpool's mask was resting at. The more Spidey looked at his reflection, the more he despised how tired he looked. Or how insane his eyebags were and how his skin looked so rough. Spidey cursed under his breath as he ran his fingers through his hair and slowly walked to the bed.
Once he felt a cold breeze coming from the old, cracked window, Spidey began hogging most of the tattered blanket Deadpool had found from the closet. Before falling asleep, he decided to take a glance at the man sleeping beside him, —still facing the wall. Peter decided to do the same.
"Goodnight."
⋆。˚୨୧˚。⋆. ⋆ ˚。⋆ ꪆৎ ˚ -`♡´-₊˚⊹ ⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡ ᥫ᭡。˚ ⋆
Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/mithaeesblog/785921538741452800/spideypool-one-bed-trope-part-2
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ishiniku · 2 months ago
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Well dang, chapter 126 is... something, who could have guessed. sighs 
But I decided as my first post here to just give some opinion on this chapter, wanting to point some things I really got interested.
CHAPTER 126 SPOILERS + some thoughts on it as bonus
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Well, thanks for the help unknown-cat, btw what do you mean "And I know what that feels like?" —It sounded so..."I've been through something similar, so I understand how she feels"...— I think we still have a lot to discover about what happened in this timeline.  
And wow, we found out how Sandclock works and it rules: 
You can't just say you're back from the future, and I believe you probably can't say anything related to the Sandclock, or perhaps nothing from the future too. Damn this thing is pulling the wool over your eyes Yashiro. 
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You can come back as many time as you wish, but when you come back you only have one chance to change it, because you won't be able to come back again at that moment. You have a short time to change what you want, that is, until the last sand falls. 
Btw, hourglass is such a... Grrrrrr please Aidairo give me a human materialized form of the it to me so I can draw it getting beat up. Nothing good comes out with using it, the hourglass always makes you WANT to change the past, and when you think you got what you wanted, something terrible happens. 
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Well it's like it says Nene,
"Again and again.''
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Baby Tsukasa jumpscare for y'all...  gurl got possessed, i did know the moment he popped in my screen that Yashiro was doomed.
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THIS IS SO SAD MAN. One of their mothers called in their phone...Who would be? I hope it's Kou's mother hah... And it could this be important? I don't know, I think it's more to emphasize that they are human, they have family, they have their own life, they have people caring about them...How nice...They died btw!! 😋 
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Imagine your best friend dedicating her last moments trying to help you get out of your trance and giving you a warm, caring, tight hug as a goodbye? Wow Aoinene angst is so tasty!! Aida&iro why you two so good at creating doomed narratives?????
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Nene smile at least now your body count is 5!! Please get the joke. (Not that I think you killed 5 people this easily with this little knife, not that I doubt the capabilities of possession, but like... Two normal people, one clockeepers and two exorcists? hardcore, I know octopusamane helped you.) 
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..Entity... Good job at being disgusting, this is something this thing doesn't fail at all. (btw where is the trigger warning in this chapter Aida...)/srs
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She came back to 103rd anniversary of Kamome Gakuen? She said she panicked, I believe this has led her to a completely random time, or maybe there is something important on this date...
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YEAH HELP HER DAMN IT, ITS YOUR FAULT. It's shocking the world, it's heartbreaking, Akane is still alive. 
sorry, I promise I love him, I just have a slight hate-love relationship w/ all the characters of TBHK, frantic coughing  
Now why is Akane here? He is clearly very calm in the situation, "I finally found you" He knew this would happen, I imagine the other Akanes who died are from the their own timelines, but this one... Where is him from? "Our" timeline (can we pretty please call Hanako timeline as "Our") or the original timeline?! Don't know HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. But he was clearly saw the changes Yashiro tried to do, since he was looking for her, but probably when he was finally close to finding her, she used the hourglass. 
This chapter and the next ones to follow literally will give a BIG change/grow in Nene character and probably her relationships too, think about how traumatizing this experience was guys...I'm literally not complaining, just sad.
Plus, they are giving a lot of weight to the entity of the redhouse, the root of the problem; Of course, Tsukasa w/ entity was somehow violent, but this?!?? Guys?... This just proves the fact that Tsukasa somehow stabilized him by idk merging his soul with the monster??? How? Why? How many control does Tsukasa or the Entity has, its 50% or perhaps Tsukasa has more control? We still have many things to be answered. (Honestly I like the theory that Tsukasa merged with the Pit God by eating it, I just don't know how to explain how this would work.) 
One of the bloodiest chapters so far,I wonder if ever we're getting some chapter w/ more gore than this. And honestly Aida&Iro exceeded my expectations. 1000000000000/10. my reaction to the chapter is this image below.
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cxlrayne · 2 months ago
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Too Late Now.
Platonic ! Angst : breadwinner GN! reader x envious younger brother
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Synopsis: Your younger brother despised you too much—to the point he now regretted that you carried his hatred with you into the afterlife, instead of the love he never showed.
Enjoy!
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Your younger brother loathed you. He despised every inch of your existence. His very skin crawling at the mere thought of you. Still, you loved him and treated him like a normal human being.
You were the perfect sibling, always striving for excellence, always pushing yourself to the limit.  It seemed like there was no room for anything less than perfect. It was hard not to feel a little envious sometimes.
He hated you because he felt like you had it all, the attention, the praise, the success, while he was there, in the sidelines, he's alway in your shadow, begging to be recognized and treated the same like you do.
It was so unfair.  He poured his heart and soul into making everyone proud, but you were always there, ready to snatch the spotlight, making his efforts feel pointless.
Oh, how his hatred for you burned.
You were the breadwinner, the one who brought home the bacon, while he was just the younger brother, left to feel like a burden, a useless thing left in the dust.
Perhaps a small achievement would have made all the difference, a chance to be recognized, even if it was just little. But no, you just had to make things worse, didn't you?
No matter what you did, no matter how much you loved him, his hatred would remain, haunting you forever.
He was tired of being overlooked, of his efforts being dismissed, of waiting for his moment to succeed while you always seemed to be one step ahead.
He despised you—and you know it.
But there he was, weeping over your lifeless body, your body, now gone, after the tragic decision to take its own life. It was a scene of cruel irony. The brother who had hated you so deeply, now consumed by grief, and regret.
He never knew the weight you carried, the pressure you felt to be perfect, the suffering you endured behind your success.
He was supposed to hate you. Why was he there, weeping over your casket, whispering apologies to a body that couldn't hear, a life that could no longer hear his words?
You died wishing he had known, wishing he had understood, wishing he had seen the pain you hid, but instead, his hatred was the thing you carried with you towards afterlife.
It was too late for him to chase you.
Too late to apologize.
Too late to say he had loved you.
Too late to save you from the pain you hid.
He couldn't escape the feeling that it was his fault, that his actions had led you to this, that he was the one who had taken your life away.
Did his envy kill you? Did his words kill you like a knife? Maybe he was really the reason you died.
He could finally achieved his dream and excel without you stealing the spotlight, but the victory felt nothing. But at what cost? You were gone, and the spotlight he craved now felt hollow, felt empty now that you weren't here with him.
Oh how he longed to turn back the clock, to rewind the past, to have another chance to make things right with you, his older sibling.
But its too late, because he cant.
You were dead now, and there's no turning back.
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traumatizing-unnamed-ocs · 6 months ago
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The end of fighting
Summary: Hero is exhausted, just trying to keep Villain distracted while the rest of the team does their job. And Villain? Villain just might discover something Themes: Power dynamics (some nice kneeling ;)) Possible triggers: Fighting, Murder mentioned, slight suicidal tendencies I guess
With every breath there was a taste of blood in Heros mouth, but they couldn’t take a break. Not yet.
“Come on, is that all you can do?” Villain asked lightly, as if Hero wasn’t even a threat to them. They weren’t. If Hero had been well rested, well equipped by J.U.S.T.I.C.E, things would have been different. But they had been pulling double shifts since Superhero had left, and this had never been supposed to be a fight they would win. They just needed to be a distraction, while the important heroes disabled the bombs. 
“I’m barely getting started”, Hero forced out, attempting another attack but barely managing to reach Villain.
“Ups, too late. Hey, maybe I should buy you a coffee, because this is getting boring.”
“Can you please just shut up?” Hero heard their own desperation and wanted to slam their head into a wall. Never let them see your weak points, you just show them where to attack. But Villain already knew that far too well where to attack Hero, and like J.U.S.T.I.C.E had said, it didn’t matter if Hero died in this fight, as long as it was after the bombs were disabled. The sound of an explosion shook the ground.
“Oh fuck me”, Villain explained, turning their back to Hero as if they weren’t even a threat, and looking at the cloud of smoke that was now rising from the bank. “Guess inflation isn’t going to go up for a while”, they said, sounding oddly unbothered by the whole situation.
Hero thought about running away. They were allowed to, their only mission was to distract Villain until the bombs weren’t a threat any more, which was now, even though things hadn’t played out the way they had wanted. But running away seemed like so much work, and honestly, Hero didn’t see the point. So they just stood there, panting from exhaustion, until Villain turned around.
“Still here?” Villain asked, as if they had read Heros' mind. “Don’t tell me you still want to fight.”
“I don’t care”, Hero got out, still hardly getting any breath. They were sore all over. They were so fucking tired.
“Not to tell you what to do, but you probably should start caring now”, Villain said, taking a menacing step towards Hero. “I mean, my plan just got destroyed. I am angry. I want revenge. And you are right here, in front of me, and it’s your fault. Hero, I am seriously contemplating killing you.”
There was a part of Heros' brain screaming at them to run. They needed to keep fighting, keep going, there was so much they still needed to do. But they also felt so incredibly tired.
“Fine”, Hero heard themself say. Then they fell to their knees. Then they waited for the blow to come.
After a while, the pain in their lungs lessened. Their heartbeat went down to an almost normal rhythm, the sound of blood rushing in their ears subsided. And, curiously, they were still alive.
As Hero dared to look up, they found Villain looking down at them. The expression in their face was something Hero couldn’t place, at least not in this situation. Pity was the thing that came to mind, but Hero knew what pity looked like, and this wasn’t it.
“You could still run away”, Villain offered. “I wouldn’t try to stop you.”
“What’s the point?” Hero asked. Something new seemed to have spread its wings over the two of them, something that seemed strangely comfortable for the situation they were in.
“I don’t know. What would be the point in killing you?”
“I don’t know”, Hero echoed.
“I don’t either. It’s not like you, as a person, have done anything that bad. You just work for a shit corporation.” Hero thought that maybe they should say something about this, probably in defence of J.U.S.T.I.C.E, but it didn’t seem like Villain was expecting them to answer, and honestly, Hero didn’t really care that much about J.U.S.T.I.C.E. It was just the only job they knew how to do. “And it would be a shame to kill somebody that looks so pretty on their knees.”
Forgotten were all thoughts about J.U.S.T.I.C.E. Hero stared up at Villain in absolute shock.
“Oh come on, I can’t be the first person to think that you are cute. I mean, it’s a pathetic-wet-cat kinda charm, but believe me, there’s a substantial audience for that.”
Now Hero really wanted to say something, because they did not want to have a pathetic-wet-cat kinda charm, but there wasn’t exactly a dignified way to defend themself while kneeling in front of Villain. 
The far sound of hurried steps broke the strange tension between them. Villains gaze snapped away from Hero, and they were hurrying to get away. But then, with another look at Hero, they stopped.
“Oh fuck it”, they said out loud, scrambling to get something from their pocked. “Don’t make me regret this. If you ever have a day off, call me, and I’ll buy you that coffee you need.” 
Hero stared dumbly, as a folded piece of paper was pressed into their hand.
“But if you set me up, I will kill you, no matter how cute you look.”
And with that, Villain was gone.
This story featured Hero as Hero and Vigilante as Villain. Will they return?
Yes, in Part Two
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shadow0214 · 1 year ago
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I've been reading some fanfics with Noa and I love them, so I thought I'd give it a go. It's my first time writing so...don't judge me to hard.
Noa × human OC
Belonging
Always the same thing around the 'bunker', no one told you the things that were happening, you hated that. You felt like they still treated you like a little child even though you were in your twenties already.
"Yes, didn't you know? We're going on an excursion." Samantha said to me while I was drying the dishes after dinner.
"Of course, I didn't, nobody tells me anything around here. It's annoying" You muttered
You were the best tracker they had, you loved being outside, learning the ways of nature, and still nobody ever took you into account when expeditions like this happened.
"Hey, that's enough Sam." A voice said entering the kitchen. "Don't listen to her, she's just trying to get on your nerves"
You looked back and smiled at the comment. Lila always knew how to calm things down.
"Why don't you speak with Anna? Maybe she'll let you go this time." Lila said
"Yes, like every other time I asked her" You scoffed and shook your head.
"C'mon, I'll go with you." Lila pushed
"I don't even own a horse yet." You said
"Well...that's your own fault, Envy could've been yours, you just gave her away to Kiara". Lila reminded you.
Kiara, the daughter of a couple that was part of the council, the leaders of your group. She was like a little sister to you ever since you met her. You had no family, your dad died on an expedition, most say apes killed him, and your mother died soon after she gave birth to you. Medicine was scarce and trying to make it from scratch was hard, not impossible since you had a lab in the facility but still, sometimes the main components were just to available.
Most expeditions could last for months, trying to find more humans, more medicine, or even mark places where apes had their homes so no one would go near. You had the firearms, but not the manpower to fight them alone.
You never understood the hate your kind had towards the apes, yes, they were now more and had claimed a lot of the land humans once ruled, but they had also healed the land. No humans meant trees and animals were free to repossess what was once theirs, and apes were not using human machines that harm the earth, so everything had regained its balance in a way. Since you were little, you went out of the bunker with a horse, you learned how to fish, how to hunt, how to track and look for things outside, you never understood why you felt more connected to nature than to your own people. 'They never understood' you'd think. ‘They will never see the world as I see it'.
Anyway, all of that wasn't going to change, so you had to take what was given to you and make the most out of it. Lila and you went to Ana, she was distracted with the preparations for the expedition. This time, from what Lila had told you, they were going to look for more survivors and other bunkers to see if those had more medicine.
"Ana, mind if we talk to you for a moment?" Lila asked
"What? Yeah, sure. What's up?" Ana said absent-mindedly while she tripled checked the supplies. It looked like they were going for some months at least.
Lila looked at you and pushed you softly, and nodded at you when you looked back. You took a deep breath and spoke.
"So...Ana, I heard about the expedition and I wanted to know why you hadn’t called for me? You know I'm one of the best people to take in things like that. I can survive pretty well on my own while I'm outside."
Ana sighed and stopped what she was doing.
"Y/N, you know the reason, I need you here, protecting everyone else" She said while putting her hands on your shoulders
"No one ever comes close to this place since we put the electric fence around! Let me go!"
"Y/N" Lila spat at me. "Careful with your words!"
I just stared at her with anger.
"You have absolutely no good reason to not let me go. Please, I can really help if something goes wrong!"
Ana didn't have a comeback for that, she knew what you were saying was right, she knew how helpfull you could be, and still the promise she had made to your mother drilled into her head could not allow you to go with them. You were already in your twenties, now there was no good excuse to tell you to stay and Ana knew this. She sighed again and with a very sad tone agreed to your request. You were going with them, and that was that.
----------‐-----------------
-The next morning-
Ana and Aaron, parents of Kiara, were the ones in charge of this expedition. Samantha, Lila, Carlos, Seth (Samantha's uncle), and you were the rest of the group.
You went to get your stuff ready on Envy, the mare that was meant to be yours, but for some reason you had decided to give her to Kiara, still, she thought of Envy as a shared horse more than her own. Kiar knew how much you loved her, and she didn't mind giving her to you in times like this.
"Take care of each other, ride safely." Kiara said with a smile on her face while petting the side of the mare.
"We will, sis, we'll be back before you know it. Anything special you want me to look for?"
Kiara shook her head. " I just need you to come back to me, that's it."
"Aaww dear, of course I will." You said hugging little Kiara.
You loved her, she was the only one that understood you and never judged you. One day you were going to take her exploring with you, so you could show her everything you loved.
Two weeks passed. Everyone was a little on edge since the news of contact had gotten to you. Apparently, a week ago the satellites started working again and your walkie-talkies that you carried mostly just to feel like you were connected somehow started working again. The people on the bunker told Ana and Aaron that a girl, similar age to you and Lila, had found the missing piece to get satellite connection back on. We knew about the bunker on the east but we had little contact with them and the nomads that were looking for ways to communicate with each other had been murder by a big group of apes, but apparently one of the girls of the nomad group had survived and, with the help of some apes, was able to get to where the main computers where locked and retrieve de disc.
This news had everyone in our group freaked out, it had been a long time since we had been able to communicate over long distances. Some were happy about it, they were thinking that this way we were going to able to rebuilt what was ours, but others were weary of what other humans wanted. 'Humans are selfish and will do anything to get power' Others thought.
Our group tried to maintain calm during all this, we still had to find supplies and medicine that was not going to arrive even if we had connection with other humans. More people meant more food, more space needed and more medicine that we did not have to spare.
At night everyone was silently eating what you had hunted for the day. You were pretty good at using different weapons, but your favorite was the bow and arrow, you almost never missed unless you wanted to. The others had guns, and some knives with them, but most of them knew that using guns out hear meant that everything in a 1km radius or more could hear and pinpoint our location.
"We could've been eating earlier if we had used my gun, I never miss" Samantha spoke showing a cocky grin to you.
You just rolled your eyes at her.
"If we had done your way, every single ape around here would've come looking for us." Seth said calmingly.
Samantha hated it when he agreed with your methods, and you knew it; in a way, it made you proud when he did. He would always be om Samantha's side and agree with her, he never liked agreeing with you, but sometimes he just had to.
"You should be thanking Y/N for her quick thinking. Otherwise, we would've had to eat the dried-up food we brought, and I don't think anybody wanted more of that" Ana said laughing at the end. The rest of the group followed making faces of disgust and laughing at the comment of our leader.
"How long until we get to the big buildings?" Lila asked when everyone had calmed down
"Sadly, I think we'll have to go back. Ana and I have been thinking about it and it's better to be with everyone else at the moment." Aaron answered
"Uncertain times call for unity." Ana added
Seth nodded and kept eating.
You were thinking. The group needed medicine, and other things...maybe a tiny group could keep pushing forward while the adults went back.
"And what if some of us stayed? You said it yourself Aaron, we are a week away from the buildings and we need everything we can find over there. A small group will not be noticed as easily as all of us" you said.
You had a point, and they knew it. After some discussion, the leaders agreed, Lila and you could keep going, the rest was to go back with them. Samantha was going to disagree, but she knew better than to stay with you two. Lila and you were inseparable, and Samantha would only be outnumbered in any decision you made.
The next morning everyone gave you half of their rations for food since you two were going to need them more than them, and then they set off for the bunker.
Lila and you waved at them, and then kept going.
For some time, it was quiet between you two, but Lila was not going to let that be.
"Sooo, wanna race?" Lila said with a sparkle in her eyes.
You knew what that meant. The idea was in her mind, now you could only accept the challenge.
"I mean...It's kind of unfair. Char is not meant for sprinting" you said with a grin.
"And Envy is?" Lila replied
"Oh, I know she's faster that Char." You said, knowing full well that she was fast in short distances and Lila was thinking more of a long-distance race.
"Well, then start! See you at the end!" Lila said kicking softly the side of her mare that sprinted away.
"Hey no fair!" You yelled doing the same with Envy.
You passed trees and creeks so fast you felt like you were going to fall off the horse. Impressively you were just behind Lila and Char, who was galloping with all her might.
You were so enthralled by how fast Char was going that you barely missed a branch that could've hit you down.
Eventually Lila made Char stop. You kept going, but Lila screamed at you to stop.
"What? I thought we were going to end?" You said out of breath riding back to where they were.
"Look up" She said, almost like a whisper.
You did and saw tall buildings in front of you all covered in vines and trees. The trees had broken some of the sediments of the building but were also holding them up. Most of them were broken, and some had collapsed, probably by the sheer size of them.
"Wow, they are amazing" Lila said.
There were rows of them, all conquered back by nature itself. It was beautiful to see how two completely opposite things could come together to create art. All green and grey together forming structures that you had never seen before.
You were both still gawking at the immensity of the buildings when you heard a noise up in the sky. Eagles, huge and magnificent eagles. You had seen some flying around on your own little excursions, but now they were closer than ever.
"Should we follow them?" Lila whispered, this was unknown territory to her, this was more your area of interest.
"Mmm maybe for a while just to see where they take us." You said firmly. " We can also walk and get in some of these buildings to see if we find something" You added.
Lila nodded and dismounted Char, you followed suit. Both of you took the reins of each mare and pulled gently so they kept up with the pace you set.
Three days you walked and searched for supplies with no luck. You tried entering every building you could, but some of them where to destroy to even walk on the floor. Others had entrances that were too high for either of you to climb, and if you did climb the hard part later was going down.
"Thank goodness you came prepared, Y/N." Lila said, struggling while climbing down a rope.
"Don't mention it, just keep going we're almost at the bottom" You said short of breath. You were no stranger to climbing but doing it almost every day for 3 days was taking its toll on you.
Lila let go of the rope and landed on the ground huffing.
"We can't keep doing this, Y/N. It's too tiring. We aren't apes to be climbing around without a care in the world!"
"I know I know, but we've found some good stuff nonetheless" You said as you stretched out after jumping off the rope, you went back and pulled the rope 2 times so it could fall off the makeshift hook you had made to tie it up.
"Some expired painkillers and a bunch of gardening tools is NOT good stuff!"
Lila sighed, even though you’d a nice time sharing this little adventure together you were starting to feel hopeless. Maybe it was time to go back, maybe the others had gotten supplies from the other camp, and you were doing nothing out here but waste time.
"Lila…you can go you know?" You said softly cleaning some arrows that you had used to hunt rabbits earlier.
"What? And leave you here?? Are you insane?!"
"No… I just feel like my time here is not over yet. Yours though…"
"Nu uh, I'm not leaving you alone, we don't even know where exactly we are."
"It's my decision Lila"
"Bullshit! I know you love nature and such, but everyone is waiting for us!"
"Everyone?" You said lowering your head.
Lila didn't answer, she knew that most of the people treated you like an outsider. No one ever told her why, the only reason she could think of wad that you had no family left alive, but that was a cruel way of treating your own kind.
"Fine, I'll take what we found back. What do you expect me to say to the rest when you don't arrive with me huh?" Lila asked
"You tell them half the truth, that I simply didn't want to come back"
"That's the 'half-truth' to you?"
"Ok ok," you said rolling your eyes. " Tell them you begged me to go back, and I said I would keep looking for stuff for a couple more days, then you never met again with me"
"Mmm, alright. So, you got killed?"
"What?! No! Idiot" You said pushing her playfully. Lila just chuckled.
"I'm gonna miss you (Y/nickname)." Lila sniffled while hugging you.
You hugged her back with some tears in your eyes.
"I'll be back before you know it, I promise"
Lila waved goodbye to you while riding Char out of the jungle of buildings, you waved back until you couldn't see her anymore.
After that you kept searching for anything really for a couple of days, until one day the promises you had made to Lila and Kiara were going to be broken.
–----------------------------------------
One day while you were scavenging around in a building you heard noises, noises you hadn't heard before. You took Envy and hid her next to some bushes at the side of a building and tried to keep her relaxed.
As the noise came closer it became clearer: apes.
You never really had contact with them since you were always cradled inside the bunker. The only experience you had was the stories people would tell you, but once you started growing up you stopped believing everything the adults told you.
You were a little apprehensive about the situation at hand but as long as Envy obeyed you, you were sure the apes would pass as quickly as they came.
"You only try to show off when climbing, the other things you just avoid!" A female voice said
"Not true! Anaya never avoids challenges, right Noa?" A male voiced reply
'Anaya and Noa' you made a mental note of the names, not sure why. You heard them walking away so you went out of your hiding place little by little, looking around you just in case you needed to hide from them.
From where you were you could see 3 apes; one had an armband different than the other two. You felt bad spying on them, but your curiosity got the best of you. You kept listening in the conversation, but you also noticed they would sign sometimes and that got lost in translation. The only signs you knew were tactical warfare signs that Aaron had thaught you when you were learning about weapons with Lila and Samantha.
"Soona is right, Anaya always showing off then running away when something goes wrong" The third one spoke, another male. After that the three started making a noise that you could only compare to laugh.
"I'll show you, climb to top to see sunset. First one wins!" The other male said running in all fours and starting to climb the building in front of you with ease.
"Anaya wait!" The female voice shouted but followed right behind him.
The other male chuckled and followed his friends up the building.
You were mesmerized by how athletic and big they were, but something inside you also wanted to follow them so you could see at least one sunset. The past days you've had missed all of them because of the tall canopy, but not today. The renewed strength gave you confidence that you could climb to the top of the building you were hiding behind.
You took your trusty rope and, your bow and some arrows just in case they attacked you and started climbing up. The building that you had chosen was in pretty good state, it still had most of its stairs and you didn't have to jump too far from one part of some broken stairs to another, which would also be handy when climbing down.
About 3 floors from getting to the top, you encountered the biggest problem: no more stairs. They were all broken or looked very unstable, your best option to climb up was the outside of the building. The design made it look like a stair, and if you went a little bit over the edge that was keeping you from falling you could see a metal hook thingy in which you could tie a rope to climb down.
First you made a knot at the end of the rope with just enough space to insert it in the hook, after that you threw that end of the rope with just enough strength to get it to where you needed it. It took you 3 attempts, but eventually you made it and started climbing the rope. Your hands were already tired from days before, but the view would make it all worth it.
Eventually when you were halfway through something made a weird noise. At first you didn't pay much attention to it but then y sounded again and this time you felt the rope moving. The hook couldn't withstand your weight anymore, and you could feel it just pulling down.
You tried to keep taking deep breaths but that was not working, they were faster than before.
*crack*
You looked up and saw the rope sliding off the hook even farther than before, that was when you started panicking. Your breathing wasn't steady anymore and now you were seconds away from falling from the almost top of the building.
A piece of the building where the hook was gave up and you let go of the rope for milliseconds and eventually grabbed the rope but it burned because of the friction, and you screamed in pain.
Noa and his friends, who were happily watching the sunset, looked at each other when you screamed. The three of them looked around for the thing that had made such a horrible sound but couldn't see anything.
You tried climbing up again, but now your hands were bloody from the fall, and you were slipping from the rope. You were in agony.
"Please, not like this, I can't die like this" You said to yourself trying to reassure yourself that you were not going to die.
That's when Noa heard you and looked over the building, he signaled his friends to jump to the other building.
"She will die if we don't help," Soona said with worry.
" What do we do?" Anaya asked Noa.
Noa went to were the rope was tied.
"Please don't kill me!" You shouted, looking up seeing one of the apes.
Noa frowned his face but kept trying to pull you up.
You understood then he was trying to help, but you knew the extra weight on the now unstable floor was not going to help.
"No, let go! You'll make it worse!" You tried to explain with tears rolling down your face. You couldn't stand the pain anymore.
Eventually the rope itself started tearing up, you were about 15 meters from the ground, you knew it was unlikely to survive that fall, your only hope was now with the 3 apes that were trying to help.
You saw the male ape trying, again, to pull you up, but it was useless with the rope tearing, and that's when it happened.
The rope tore apart, and you started to fall, your only hope for surviving was the trees below you would cushion your fall enough for you not to die. The only thing you were able to come up with was using your left arm to cover your neck as best you could.
Silence. Silence followed after your fall. Anaya was the first one to get to you and he poked you with a stick.
Soona quickly took the stick from him and went to check if you were still alive. She saw that you were still breathing thankfully. But your left forearm was completely broken.
"What happens now?" Soona asked Noa.
Noa was not sure what to do, his instincts told him to leave you there to die, after all, you were Echo. You would only mean problems to the clan, but there was another part of him that felt responsible for you and wanted to help you out.
"We take her home, help her wounds. After that, she has to leave." Noa said to Soona.
Soona nodded and took your frail body, and the three friends started their journey back home, back to Eagle Clan.
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girlnadian · 3 months ago
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ok im going to call this now: i think ros left the "your fault" sign
ros has never died (I DONT THINK. i could be lying), we dont know how it will affect her or what itll be like, but if pili is capable of leaving signs in zams base despite being a dead player, it stands to reason other dead players could be capable of the same thing. and, like, sure, pili could have done it. pili has a sordid history with lukey and pangi and has openly blamed pangi for the corruption before, but then... why wouldnt he just admit to it. his opinion is known. he all but confesses to having taken the burden book (or at least having an idea as to what happened to it) with little prompting, but all he says he thinks the sign is funny and wishes he had done it. why? hes not trying to get back into pangis good graces. they cant kill him for it. you hide things to avoid consequences but there arent really any consequences pili can face for this. i also just, dont think him doing things like criticizing the building materials is fake.
ros also openly hates lukey and has from day one, admittedly im not sure what her motive would be for including pangi in this. maybe death has brought back some of her memories she lost in the null? maybe its just made her worse.
minor point: the text being purple. this is pedantic but i feel like pili leans towards magenta. it could just be that way to tie back into the corruption but purple was ros' favorite color before the null. could maybe be hinting at her regaining her memories (negative)?
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rita-repulsa-ke · 5 months ago
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The Four Stages of Grief
She’s holding a body, a familiar body, still warm but not breathing, which is fine, because Rio often forgets to breathe. The problem is in every other detail, the way it doesn't move, the slackness of the skin, the way she—it—is dead weight in Agatha's arm
She's holding something impossible, something that cannot exist.
She's holding Rio's corpse.
This one is @dandelions4us' fault
Barring infancy, Agatha Harkness can remember almost every time she’s cried.
Not when they chained her to the stake.
Not when she killed them.
Not when Wanda made her forget who she was.
When her boy died. A few times after sex, which doesn’t count. Maybe once or twice when she was younger and more naive about how the world worked. Multiple times as a way to garner sympathy prior to committing murder, which also doesn't count.
In the time between Nicky's death and this present moment, she can’t remember the last time her eyes have so much as grown damp.
Even knowing it must be a dream, she’s crying now.
She’s holding a body, a familiar body, still warm but not breathing, which is fine, because Rio often forgets to breathe. The problem is in every other detail, the way it doesn't move, the slackness of the skin, the way she—it—is dead weight in Agatha's arm
She's holding something impossible, something that cannot exist.
She's holding Rio's corpse.
"You can't do this to me," she snarls into that blank face, her voice scratching the air like fingernails on dead skin. "You can't die!" She gives the body a few rough shakes, which is a terrible idea, the way the body ragdolls uselessly in her arms will stay with her forever. "It's one of your best features!"
This is a dream, she reminds herself. A stupid, ridiculous dream where Rio dies in her arms like some kind of tragic cliche, the kind of trope that makes her feel nauseous—or maybe that, too, is the crying, she hasn't done it in so long she's forgotten how physically unpleasant it is, how her head pounds and her cheeks ache and her stomach feels like someone's taken it for a boat ride on choppy water.
She just has to find out how to wake up.
She tries pinching herself, or rather, she tries pinching herself again, because her arm is a mess of inflamed red marks. This latest one she gets vicious, digs her nails in like she's got a grudge against her own body and maybe she can write these tears off to pain.
"Come on, come on," she says, but nothing's happening, she's still sitting on the floor of her living room in Westview holding the corpse of a woman she's sure can't die, except that Agatha saw her do it, a knock on her door and she'd opened it only to have Rio stumble into her arms, collapse like a scene from a movie she wouldn't have watched and mumble, "I love you, Ags," right before she did the one thing she absolutely, 100% could not do.
"Doesn't make any sense," Agatha murmurs to herself, and if she had any magic, any magic at all, she would be trying every spell in the book, but it's all gone, stolen by the Scarlet Witch. Still, there's always things she could try, manual spells that rely on ritual and components instead of innate magic, except that to do any of those, she'd have to let go of Rio's body and she can't actually seem to make herself do that. She's got it in her lap, the arm she's been pinching held under it, posed almost the same way Rio had fallen, keeping her propped up and hoping any minute she might jump up and yell 'Surprise!'.
Any minute now.
Minutes tick by and nothing happens, except Agatha's arm grows tired and her cheeks cold. She expects the crying to stop, but it doesn't, only turns pitiful and sniffly, the kind of sound she would have done a very funny mockery of, if it had come from anyone else.
"This is ridiculous," she scolds the corpse, trying not to look directly at it, not to see how empty it is, how its mouth won't curve to smile at her and its eyes won't light in her presence, how there's no semblance of her lover in the dead thing in her arms. "You're Death! You're immortal, you're a fundamental part of the balance, how can you possibly die?"
Agatha is intimately familiar with the stages of grief, she's cycled through them on repeat for centuries. This one's anger. The next—
"…Hey, Rio, look, I know we've…I know we've had our differences. You hunted me for centuries and I…I probably wasn't always that nice to you. Also hid from you with the Darkhold, which I do know you hated." Her free hand moves at an awkward angle, tries to pat down her former lover's hair in a way that only makes it worse. "I'm not sorry about most of that, honestly. But you know, you were right. I...ugh, I really did always still love you, all right?! I tried to stop, but I could never figure out how." And here it is, her desperate attempt at bargaining, at making a kind of peace between them she'd scorned when Rio was alive. "That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it? Isn't it?! So stop this! Wake up already. ...Just come back to me."
The corpse stares, sightless, up at her ceiling and she knows this next stage too, she's wallowed in it for years and years. She clutches Rio's corpse tighter to her body, rocks with it, back and forth and depression is too weak of a word for the swamp of emotion she's sinking into, muck rising above her head and taking the last of the light with it.
These are the stages of grief Agatha Harkness knows.
There's another one she's heard about, but never reached.
Other people might simply accept things. Their fate, the deaths of others, the universe acting on them instead of them acting upon the universe.
Those people were weak.
"No," she starts the cycle from the top, right back to denial. "This can't be real. It can't, it's impossible, she can't die." She finally lowers the corpse to the ground, onto an ugly throw rug Agnes must have chose, then reaches down to pluck a hair from Rio's head, oddly stiff in her fingers. She has bleach and cinnamon, there's a half-remembered bit of ritual she can try—
"Stop," someone says and Agatha's heart almost obeys, because that's a familiar voice, the familiar voice, the voice of a woman she knew couldn't be dead.
"I thought this is what you wanted," And there's a second speaker, unfortunate in its familiarity. Wanda, she thinks, Wanda and Rio together, and her thoughts are going in frantic circles that might be confusion or might be a literal loop, placed there by the most powerful witch in the world.
"It was. I don't want it anymore. Make it stop. Now," Rio says from somewhere, somewhere where she is alive and not the dead, empty thing on Agatha's floor.
"So long as you remember what you promised me," Wanda says, and then the world snaps in half like a—
Like a broom, like the one that's lying on her floor, a proper wooden kind with twisted bristles, the one she'd thrown in the back of a closet ages ago in case she needed a quick escape, the one made from a branch Rio had grown specifically for her—
The agonized, furious sound that escapes Agatha's torn up throat is enough to make even Death and the Scarlet Witch take a step away from her.
Death.
Despite a fury that will burn the world down to avenge the last hour of her life, she can't help but stare at Rio, at how her eyes have moved to avoid Agatha's, how her jaw is held tight and her forehead wrinkled with discomfort, how alive she is regardless of whether or not she's remembered to breathe.
Agatha steps up to her, almost chest to chest.
"Agatha, I'm…" Rio starts, and then the rest of a sentence that would only make her angrier is lost, because Agatha Harkness is kissing Death.
It's a good kiss, too, even if there's salt from her tears in it, a proper kiss like they haven't managed in centuries, a brand of ownership, a claim, a reminder of who Rio belongs to, but most importantly, a way to make absolutely certain that she is not dead weight in Agatha's arms, not slack skin and unblinking eyes, but as alive as Agatha has ever needed her to be.
When she steps back, Rio is reeling, shaking, clutching at her with hands Agatha shoves away.
"Don't," she snarls. "Get. Go. I can't stand to look at you."
"Beloved…" Rio says, caught between her eternal fury at rejection and something that might have been guilt.
"Rio," Agatha says, and the tone in her voice freezes the protests in Death's mouth. "I know what you're thinking. I said something you've always wanted to hear, didn't I, while I was being unknowingly manipulated." Rio's eyes gleam brighter, and Agatha is never going to hear the end of this, so many more centuries of 'I always knew you loved me' to look forward to.
And maybe she won't even hate that, if it means she gets to see Rio smiling and blinking and pursuing her across continents instead of limp and lifeless in her arms. But she isn't going to put up with it today, not after what's been done to her. She means it when she says, "If you want even a chance that what I said will remain true, get out of my sight right now."
Like a candle blown out or a life ended, Rio Vidal is gone.
Slightly reluctantly, Agatha makes herself turn to look at the other participant, the person responsible for making her put on a one-woman show.
"…So," she asks the Scarlet Witch. "Any other ways you'd like to torture me?"
Wanda looks back at her, something unnervingly hollow behind her eyes. "She made me a deal," she says, almost emotionless. "About my boys. This isn't personal, Agatha." That might even be true, but the way the other woman is looking at her now—maybe she should have kept Rio around for defense, except she really couldn't have stood it for a moment longer, her former lover looking at her with an ugly mix of pity, guilt and adoration.
Still, Agatha recognizes the way Wanda is looking at her, like Agatha were something unpleasant on the bottom of her shoe. Like she might do something nasty just because she can. Agatha has looked at lots of other people like that before.
"I'll go away," she promises. "Somewhere you never have to see me again."
"I doubt that," Wanda says, and Agatha has the passing suspicion that the Scarlet Witch has been sticking her nose into a book, the book, her beloved Darkhold. Wanda's sanity was questionable when she was running a prison disguised as a sitcom, but the dark circles under her eyes and the way she doesn't seem to have expressions anymore is concerning. "…Letting you go was part of her bargain, though. I wonder if she'll regret that. I could have made you anything she wanted you to be."
Concerning, but so not her problem. Let the so-called superheroes deal with whatever Wanda was turning into. "Right," Agatha says, edging toward the door, her hand on the knob. "Well. Always lovely to see you, Wanda. Let's never, ever do this again."
Now she has to open the door.
All she has to do is open the door and walk out to freedom. Or at least anywhere but this suffocating house she wants to see burnt to the ground, the one with a nightmare currently standing inside it, watching her with all the expression of a corpse.
Her hand is wrapped firmly around the knob and she can't turn it, because if she does, Rio will stumble through the door, Agatha will catch her and then Death will die in her arms all over aga—
The door blasts itself to pieces around her, the larger chunks of wood somehow flying harmlessly by, though she's covered in a thin layer of wood dust.
Both she and Wanda blink, then Agatha Harkness turns, swishes her coat around herself and strides out as though this is exactly what she intended all along. She keeps her head held high and her shoulders back, ignores how raw her throat is or the redness on her cheeks, a lingering trace of scrubbed away tears. She can't even remember the last time she cried. She certainly hadn't sobbed hysterically while clutching a broom pretending to be the body of the woman she loved as her ex and her greatest enemy looked on
But if that had happened, someone would have to pay.
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shortcakecuties · 11 months ago
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Madoka magica x Twisted wonderland! (And reader >u<)
Summary, In which the madoka cast stumbles upon a mirror, leading them to somewhere unknown...
I will write a part 2 to this or make hcs to this !!
Ask by @themoshi666 ♡
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The quintet was on daily witch patrol, just like any other evening. As they all entered the entrance to a labyrinth, they were greeted with a sweet lullaby.
"I thought these labyrinths were supposed to be scary, this witch is definitely is gonna be a cake walk." Kyoko commented confidently, her voice echoing in the elegant halls. The halls looked similar to a castle from a fairy tale, having huge windows showing fake scenery.
"I feel like a princess in here! Whoever turned into a witch definitely had taste." Sayaka mentioned, completely captivated by the beautiful architecture.
They finally arrived to what seemed the entrance to the main part of the labyrinth. All of them prepared their weapons to attack. Homura pulled the giant wooden doors and there it was, the witch. The majority of it was a mirror, with a face? Some of the quartet was distracted by the strange coffins levitating and the paintings of famous childhood stories decorated all over the strange patterned walls. "Its like someone's childhood here..." madoka mumbled. Sayaka agreed, "I kind of feel bad trying to kill this witch." Homura quickly interjected their conversation. "This is a witch, it's not human anymore. let's go."
No doubt that they were being bested by this witch. One by one they were getting exhausted. The labyrinth kept changing from a castle littered with hearts and checkered floor to an ocean with fish of all kind swimming around. With each place change, it kept getting stronger. It didnt help that their soul gems were getting quite clouded with darkness.
Kyoko yelled at everyone, "We have to go! Were getting nowhere with this fight!" Madoka looked over just for second and suddenly felt a sharp pain behind her. The tentacles of the sea witch had hit her. Homura caught a quick glance of it and yelled "Madoka!"
She fell to the floor hard near where they had all entered. Homura quickly came to her aid. The rest had given up quickly and rushed to the entrance. The wooden doors was now a huge coral blocking the entrance. Mami tried shooting at it but it wouldnt budge. Before everyone knows it, they were cornered. They all thought their last moments would be near as the sea witch swung her tenticals their way. Before they could feel any pain, a blinding light overtook their senses.
Spending after school cleaning with ace, deuce, and grim was not on your plan today... Yet they somehow managed to drag you down with them. You sigh as you wipe down the mirror in the mirror chamber. Hearing them bicker for the 10th time today was getting to you. "It was not my fault! Those hedgehogs have a mind of their own!" Ace complained. Deuce followed up with, "all because you wanted to take a break...yeah, definitely not your fault." Grim snickered at ace and once again they continued to fight.
Suddenly you noticed something weird about the mirror it had a faint glow to it...maybe its just your imagination? The glow started to intensify little by little. You wanted to ask the trio about, "Hey-" before you could even finish, a blinding white light enveloped the room and you felt something push you down.
Multiple grunts of unfamiliar voices filled your ears. Once the light died down, there was revealed to be four, no..five girls? You were frozen in place once you saw one of the girls point a gun at you.
"Where are we?" Homura demanded. Ace and deuce tried to get closer but homura pointed the gun at them instead.
"Damn! You don't have to be hostile! You're the ones who came out of nowhere!" Ace argued back. Mami held her arm out, blocking homura's aim of fire.
"I dont think we're in a labyrinth anymore. These are actual humans." Mami stood up and apologized "Sorry, we were previously in a battle before this, were kind of shaken up."
Deuce finally spoke up, clearly confused, "then why are you guys in school uniforms?" To their dismay, their transformations faded. Quickly the rest of the girls stood up and walked up to mami,
"our soul gems look fine but I cant transform!" Sayaka panicked. Then quickly asked the boys, "how can we go home?! We're completely magicless here!"
You lift yourself up from the floor and walked over to the group, "all you have to do is go up to the mirror and say where you came from." You spoke, you had a gut feeling that it wouldnt work and they'll maybe end up just like you.
Madoka went up to the mirror and sternly told it, "bring us back to Mitakihara city!" The mirror did nothing. It only replied, "there is no such thing as Mitakihara city."
Everyone just stood in silence as they took in the information. You hate how you're always right.
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