#not quite dying not quite immortal

[sesamestreep]

“requiem for methuselah” crazy ass episode for many reasons. Kirk is being fully insane, like I don’t actually think, even controlling for how quickly and easily and readily he seems to fall in love with anybody at the slightest encouragement, that he’d go that bonkers for that android woman he just met while everyone on the ship was this close to dying, but that’s neither here nor there, because in the background you’ve got an equally but much more subtly insane episode for Spock, who extremely uncharacteristically admits to experiencing an emotion (or nearly experiencing, whatever) and that emotion is ENVY of all things. And then spends the rest of the episode warning Kirk away from this new love interest (something that doesn’t usually happen, even when Kirk has very inadvisable love interests) and is, in the end, the person who accurately identifies that Rayna’s competing love for Kirk and Flint is ultimately what overwhelms and destroys her with the most killer line in maybe history???

And then to wrap it up we get an equally uncharacteristic sort of denouement scene (TOS loooves to cut an episode off right after the actual climax, leaving little time for falling action or character reflection, or to stick a sitcom-y button on the end where the gang all smiles and laughs at their misadventures and everything resets to zero, which is not a criticism, it’s just the style of that era of tv, honestly) where Kirk is literally miserable over Rayna’s death (again, kind of unusual for a lot of his love interests, he tends to be able to move on pretty quickly) and Spock goes to see him and he falls asleep right in front of Spock (also odd) and then when Bones comes in to give the final word on Flint, Spock waves him off from waking the Captain (tender) and Bones gives him that awful speech about how it’s sadder that Spock can’t even imagine the love Kirk felt for this random android woman than it is that Kirk lost her in the first place (debatable but also rude) and how his great tragedy is that he can’t love at all like they can and how all he wishes is that Kirk could forget about all of this and move on. AND THEN, to have Bones leave and Spock go over to Kirk and very gently, tenderly, reluctantly touch him and put his hand to his forehead and tell him to forget and HAVE THAT BE THE END OF THE EPISODE??? What am I supposed to do with that??

[perenlop]

finished “yellowface”. goddamn that was a ride… highly highly recommend if you like villain protagonists

[abyssembraced]

Making You the Patron Saint of Something

Patron Saint of Creation

Patron saint of explosions. Patron saint of More. Patron saint of something new entirely. Something unfamiliar, something you can't recognize. Was Frankenstein's monster an abomination or had his like just never been seen before? You're the patron saint of all those new, beautiful things. You're the patron saint of the monsters, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Patron Saint of Bones

Patron saint of frameworks. Of structures. Of solidity. Patron saint of things that break. Patron saint of things that are left behind. The bones survive long after the body, the building: what is there left for them, when the rest is gone? What do bones do, with nothing to hold around them? Who holds the bones?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagged by: @distrxst (thank you!)

Tagging: Back at it again with tagging Everyone <3 And again, if you have multiple rp blogs, absolutely feel free to do it for one other than the one I tagged!! @bladesfromthedark , @legalbrats , @tazmilyxfamily , @pri-rp , @hopeful-hugz , @quillheel , @musescfmusic , @interdimensional-ship

[orcelito]

Finished what is possibly the cruelest ending of iwatex, in that it's something that I actively chose and facilitated (rather than absolute cataclysm happening without me realizing)

It gave an early ending. But I predicted that & left a save game slot prior to heading down the path of no return. So I'm gonna go back to it to finish off the route with a Still probably not great but not Nearly so cruel kind of ending. I still have 2 things I want to accomplish with this game, after all. Not Done With It Yet.

[writing-prompt-s]

"And so I was cursed with immortality. Cursed to walk the earth for eternity, never aging past twenty five and never dying." "How old are you, then?" "…Seventy. It was quite recent actually."

[a-ikuoliver]

god is a bit of a freak, why's he watching me getting railed on the couch, staying pure for a wedding, he's got fucked up priorities — aka an ancient, obsolete god of fertility hears your prayer

pairing: fertility god!katsuki bakugou x fem!reader w/c: 2.8k warning/s: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), references to sex rituals and safe sex lmao, i think that's everything, mostly lead up notes: sorry i wrote this fucked up from a cold lmao i hope u all enjoy either way! inspo/acknowledgements: god is a freak by peach prcty @kweenkatsuki-fics @aquadenks @peachsukii @rabbbitseason for ur interest teehee

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

the ancient tongue was dead, dying a slow death as all languages did, evolving again and again with every civilisation that rose and fell, until it faded into obscurity. with the death of their language, their communication with their believers, the gods faded, too, their followers dwindling more and more as their names were buried along with the civilisations they led. once adored, worshipped, feared, now, their names only existed on scrolls, yellowed and deteriorated beneath layers of mortal history, unspoken in aeons.

katsuki kicked the door shut behind him, the bag of produce in his hand swinging back and forth with the movement. there was once a time where he was lavished with offerings of food he now had to purchase; countless altars he tended to piled with vegetables, wines, fire, soil, blood, accompanied with prayers to answer. he'd all but assimilated into living as a mortal; cooking (he was grateful, at least, for electric stoves, cooking lerthargically over a fire not quite how he wanted to spend eternity), showering, learning, exploring and working alongside the humans that once lived in his shadow.

he was one of the first to deflect from utopia, to abandon his temple, to give up on the belief that the gods, their language could return to how it was, and with it their followers. katsuki had simply grown bored of waiting alone in the stone temple, of wandering the perimeter hoping to find a lost mortal he could grant a miracle to, to find a mortal to bring meaning to godhood again. after all, what was a god without his believers?

he hadn't given up his blessings or miracles, albeit on a smaller scale than he once had, he still granted wishes as he had in utopia's heyday, the offerings he received now smiles across counters as people passed along paperwork, hoping to be one of the lucky ones, praying over pregnancy tests in bathrooms instead of in his altar. he gave up godhood, but he refused to give up his miracles, even if the mortals didn't know he was responsible.

the pot was finally at a rolling boil, his knife poised above the produce when he felt it, the sensation freezing his blood in his veins, the pull of a prayer in his veins, an echoing whisper of his name lighting his nerves alight. the god freezes, blond hair slipping into his eyes as his ears burnt, twitching at every noise, waiting to hear the sweet sound of the prayer once more.

"bakugou."

his face falls from shock to a scowl almost immediately, his pupils dilating, his skin itchy from adrenaline, his stomach twisting. it couldn't really be his name. this couldn't be a prayer. not after all this time.

the obsolete incantation runs off your tongue seamlessly; almost melodic, light as you cite the prayer carved into the stone at the base of his statue, your dialect nothing like what the prayer used to sound like, but the more you read, the harder he finds it to hate. your voice clouds his head, every word past your lips making the fog denser behind his eyes. there was a dull pain alongside it, an ache that pulsed with your every breath, the pain of a prayer.

the call of the prayer felt… foreign after so long (a millennium he thinks? maybe more, maybe less, years, decades, centuries and millenniums all blurred into one for immortals), katsuki was accustomed to the silence every god feared, the silence of being abandoned by your believers, of dwindling power and control. even with how it was feared, this almost felt worse; a single prayer cornering him in the kitchen after an aeon alone, a single spotlight in the darkness worse than the endless pitch black.

"told you it was bull." barefoot, he paces back and forth in the apartment, shifting uncomfortably as you traced a fingertip over the carved inscription, the touch feeling as if it was on the very nerves of his scalp, down the curve of his spine, catching on every bump of his vertebra. crimson eyes droop, a thick hand rubbing at the bridge of his nose, an attempt to soothe the pain of your voice bouncing around his head, the sensation of your touch on his effigy.

"hey, stop that," your giggle almost has his feet sliding against the tile, nearly tumbling backward as he stops in his tracks; his muscles straining to follow the magnetism of your voice, the melody of your intoxicating laugh while he rationalises your existence at all.

"is that why you brought me here, huh? you think being in some ancient sex temple means you'll get some?"

perks of being a god: immortality, immeasurable strength and influence, impenetrable skin (with maybe a couple flaws). downsides of godhood? the power of their followers over them.

it was… overwhelming, the itch beneath a gods skin when a devout believer called their name, the weight of a prayer, the unshakable desire to follow the call. thankfully, the perks also included the facilities to do so; something akin to teleportation, the voice like a blinding beacon in the night, guiding the god.

once upon a time, civilisations ago, it was a lot, too much, the night always lit like it was daylight with the light his followers cast out. his temple existed for this very reason, devout believers building the god a home, a sanctuary for the light of his followers, complete with the marble sculpture of the built god. then, it was at the centre of the village he ruled over, now, you and your lover had hiked up a mountain, and back down into the valley to find it, the stone weathered and covered in vegetation, it was a miracle you'd been able to work your way inside.

dragging his finger over cold stone, every ridge and bump as it once was, katsuki reminisced about a time before the silence, before the darkness, a time when people lined outside his temple with dreams of a child. years ago, women came alone to his temple, clad in robes they'd weaved specially for the fertility ritual (sometimes gifted at their weddings), kneeling in the altar to offer anything they had in exchange for their heir; piles of gold from queens who begged for a prince, beloved and wise to rule their kingdoms peacefully, warriors armed with iron to wish for a knight, strategic and strong enough to return home from battle again and again, farmers gripping their herbs with soil-stained hands, praying for a child born with kindness and thumbs so green the village would survive the winters once more, a marble statue of the god, towering at over 9 feet tall from a sculptor wishing for a child with as much passion for the arts as their parents.

visitors now were only accidental, stumbling upon the temple in the darkness of the valley, seeking shelter, safety, protection. never a prayer tumbling from their lips for an heir (he answered their prayers nonetheless, never allowing harm to befall anyone on his blessed grounds).

peeking from behind a pillar overtaken by the vegetation, he finally spotted you.

you sucked the breath from his lungs, walking further into the temple, a cute, mischievous grin tugging on the corners of your soft lips, chasing your lover with your eyes as he spoke, "you don't think it's romantic? fucking in an ancient sex gods temple?"

"he was the god of fertility, not sex." you step onto the age worn sigil by the base of the imposing statue, brushing layers of grey dust away.

you look so similar to the countless women before who laid on his mark, the way you studied the carved sigil carefully, curiosity and stars sparkling in your eyes, a heat burning beneath your skin, adrenaline spiking in your veins. eras ago, women were bare on the sigil, stone icy against their skin as they drew runes, marking their skin with blood, dirt or ink, in the language native to the gods.

"what's the difference?" their voice was low, lips brushing beneath your jaw, biting at the sensitive skin beneath your ear, nimble fingers sliding beneath your shirt to tug it higher, higher, on your torso, tugging the material over your head with a flick of his wrist.

the god was no stranger to topless women, probably seeing hundreds and thousands of them in his prime, but the way the man in front of you toyed with the fat on your chest nearly making his eyes meet the inside of his skull. your allure was impossible to resist when your boyfriend rolls your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, tugging on the sensitive skin to pull a delicious whine from your throat.

the silence had made him soft.

"i've been waiting all day for this," katsuki's blood rushes in his ears when you both fall to the floor, limbs already beginning to tangle together, bodies becoming one at the mouth, at the hips, at the chest. your sweet sounds echo in the temple, increasingly breathless the longer you kissed and nipped and sucked and bit at your boyfriend.

the ancient tongue was dead, katsuki knew that, knew you had no way to know what you'd read, like some naive final girl in a cliche horror film, that the very god you were laid at the base of was real, that he could see and hear you, that his cock throbbed watching you. you had no way of knowing what you'd started. carmine eyes study the beat of your heart in your chest, the way your tits look when your breathing quickens, how irresistible you look when deft fingers trace the seam of your panties.

katsuki prays himself for the first time in his long life that he's the only god to see you right now, to watch your face change the lower your boyfriend travels, dragging his tongue over your skin as he goes (katsuki's thankful for every time the mortal man bites at your skin, for the yelp it elicits anytime his canines sink into your flesh). his fingertips twitch at his sides, itching to finalise the ritual you'd started with the single murmur of his name, the first syllable of a language foreign on your tongue but you'd recited it so naturally.

you exclaim your lovers name with another sweet giggle, his hands now gripping your ass, tugging your obstructive underwear down your pillowy thighs, tossing it as far as he can the moment the garment is free from your ankles.

the god's ears scald at the way you sound when the brunet's tongue flicks against your skin, sucking at your pussy just to draw increasingly needier sounds from your pretty mouth. he's not even watching you and he already knows your hips are jumping from the stone floor, grinding onto your lovers mouth and nose to work yourself closer to an orgasm. your moans echo in the stone temple, bouncing in every corner before travelling back to his ears, tempting his attention to you.

he stays steady, sharp carmine eyes narrowing on the altar.

more specifically, the lump of material atop the bench.

your underwear is draped across like an offering of its own to him, far more lewd than gold, iron and herbs, but it made his core ache when the moonlight caught in the centre of the fabric, a small damp spot glistening in the light.

fuck, it hurts, every nerve aching, screaming to finally put an end his celibacy, unbroken for far too long. he hadn't felt a need for a mortal like this since the beginning of his existence, the pure want filling his head with fog. this is a duty, this power he has, it is what he was made for, there was never this heavy, dense fog filling his head before, no follower making his blood burn like you were. and you didn't even know what you'd done.

bakugou's gaze is finally drawn back to you, your spine arching away from the stone, fingers tangling at the base of your boyfriends skull, tugging the hair harshly as you chanted his name, your hips stuttering, grinding messily back and forth on his face, until you stopped. you were still wound tight, your thighs clamped tight around his ears while you recovered, a dopey, lovesick smile planted firm on your cheeks.

your squeal makes his dick twitch, one last flick of his tongue over your overstimulated clit, blond eyebrows furrowing so hard at the centre it makes his head pound, you were making his head hurt. a desperation to finish the ritual filled his lungs, every breath a reminder of his name on your lips, of your panties across the altar, of your naked body atop his mark.

he needed this, needed to bury his cock in a pretty cunt, to fill you until you were a babbling mess, needed you.

sitting back on his knees, your lover wiped your creamy cum from his chin with the back of his hand, spreading it from his face to his fingers, hardly doing anything to clean the mess you'd made of his mouth.

your boyfriend finally moves out of the way, giving katsuki the front row seat he deserves, your thighs shining with slick the masterpiece he'd come to see. unblinking, he thinks he's squeezing his cock through his pants, he's not sure, too hypnotised by the way your hips still twitched, chasing your boyfriends warmth. onyx and ruby eyes alike study your face, glued to the way your eyes roll into your skull when his fingers, still wet with your cum, trace your clit once more, teasing the entrance of your pussy before circling your sensitive nerves once more.

katsuki knows he's stroking his cock now, frantically tugging at the zipper still preventing him from relief, his fist moving at the same pace you grind your hips down to your lovers hand, sucking his fingers into you, squeezing your cunt around them until your thighs shook. his hips rock into his hands when your tongue lolls from your mouth, your moans getting faster and faster once more.

he has to bite his lip to stifle a groan of his own, his fist pumping faster and faster again, squeezing the base of his cock when you press a kiss as soft as silk to his lips, looping your hips around his, tugging him closer when you came again.

"fuck, baby, next time you cum, it's with my cock inside you." dark hair shields your face from katsuki's vision momentarily, your boyfriend leaning over you, searching his discarded coat for something, tugging it closer and pulling each pocket inside out.

your thighs slip from his hips as he moves, wincing as your thighs made contact with the icy stone instead of his warm skin.

"shit, i think i left the condoms in the backpack," sliding the empty jacket over your chest, you tuck it beneath your arms, clutching it close to you with one hand, the other waving your boyfriend off as he ventured back toward the entrance of the temple, your gaze lingering on his ass until he was out of sight.

another perk of godhood: the blessed ground was subject to the chosen gods whims. some gods had their temples in the centre of labyrinthian mazes, others had their temples impossible to find, buried beneath the earth or deep in the ocean, hidden between mountains, camouflaged in vegetation, some invisible until the winter solstice, or until the new moon. katsuki never quite cared for that, leaving his temple as his followers built it for him, not implementing challenges for believers to prove their dedication like others had, only protecting his hallowed ground. until now.

stone scrapes against stone harshly, the coarse sound painfully invading your ears as the temple entrance seals. you drop the jacket into your lap, rushing to shield your ears from the sound with your palms pressed hard to your ears, searching around the room for your boyfriend, for his protection, katsuki supposes, like a mortal man could save you from the god you summoned, from what you started.

stepping out from the dark corner, his figure casts a sharp, long shadow as he stands to his full height in front of the statue. like this, you look identical to the women he used to bestow his miracles on; splayed on his sigil, staring up at him with dewy eyes (your blown pupils imperceptibly widening when your gaze rakes over his large form, taking everything in; blond mess of hair, darting crimson eyes, ruffled shirt as he rushed to hold it in his mouth watching you get your cunt eaten, his still-unzipped pants and finally the impressive bulge of his cock), your lips parting when he finally relaxes his shoulders, now standing easily at the shoulder of his statue.

"you-re—" your eyes dart between the imposing statue and his steely face, your voice airy, wobbling slightly as you continued, "you're real?"

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[phantasm-echo]

POV: you wake up in the middle of your own autopsy with force powers then immediately get brainwashed into falling to the dark side

I was reminded of the fact that I haven’t drawn inquisitor!fives�� autopsy scars in way too long so here I am, delivering a few too many Fives 💀

Anyway I know I don’t post much about the AU on here so props to anyone who knows what’s going on here even slightly, I’ve decided to nerf siren!echo (who WAS part of this AU yes I know quite random) but since him being turned into a siren kinda limits what I can do with him story wise he is now an AU of the AU.

That means the name I came up with for the au (dead mean walking/swimming or dmw(s) as I’ve been tagging it) is kinda irrelevant. I’ll just call this the inquisitor fives AU but if you have any AU name suggestions feel free to drop them.

Here are some of the major factors of the AU:

It gets worse before it gets better

(WARNING: there are quite a few heavy topics covered in the AU such as torture, dehumanisation and su*cidal thoughts, so pls read at your own discretion)

- fives wakes up in the middle of his own autopsy with force sensitivity, then gets brainwashed into falling to the Dark Side by Palpatine. As an Inquisitor, he does not remember anything about his life because those memories were blocked by Palpatine.

- Palpatine discovers that Fives is essentially immortal, and any injuries inflicted on him will heal no matter how bad.

- when echo gets rescued from skako minor, he is recalled to Kamino for experimentation, first of all so they can figure out what the Techno Union did to him, second of all to see how he survived his injuries. Nala se, who knows that fives came back to life, theorises that since he and echo were tube twins they share the “immortality”. He is kept on Kamino for VERY extensive experimentation where terrible things happen to him (cough vivisection cough lobotomy) and so never joins Clone Force 99 even if he did work with them on Anaxes.

- Fives in this time is sent out on many missions by Palpatine that involve him unaliving many people, and after the rise of the Empire he hunts a few Jedi.

- Fox, who throughout the war had experienced many blackout missions where he woke up afterwards covered in blood, is the last living Coruscant Guard commander. (Thorn dies, stone vanishes one day, Thire mistakes Vader for a Jedi and pays the price) Despite the best efforts of his son secretary Dogma (no way!?) Fox has very little will to live, is extremely depressed and borderline suicidal, he would like nothing more than to bite the dust, but still feels he has a duty to the very few remaining corries and so tries to keep it together (he is failing)

- one day Palpatine decides he doesn’t need Fox to do his bidding anymore since he has much better assets at his disposal (Fives), and decides it would be ironic to sic his pet clone inquisitor onto Fox. Fives still doesn’t remember anything, and only knows that Fox is responsible for the main scars on his body and believes fox is the reason he doesn’t remember most of his life, and so sets out to kill fox. They battle it out (ref to that one animation wip I posted) and fives is on the verge of killing fox (who didn’t really try to fight that much, like I said he would very much like to die and dying at the hand of the vod he “killed” seems fitting to him) when he gets a sudden vision of echo.

- all fives knows is echo is extremely important to him and must be rescued and that snaps him out of palpatine’s control. He knows he probably can’t rescue echo alone, and since fox has already been betrayed by the empire he decides “fuck it” and basically kidnaps fox and they run. They make a deal, that once echo has been found, Fives will put Fox out of his misery (fox feels that fives should be the only person to kill him, and only goes along with the plan because he refuses to let anyone else kill him)

- fox and fives proceed to go on an intergalactic road trip to “rescue echo” even though neither of them know how to do that. They become closer friends throughout, and fives slowly regains bits and pieces of the Before

- meanwhile during the destruction of Kamino, the bad batch stumble on echo and rescue him and he stays with them for a little bit before leaving with Rex

- meanwhile Dogma helps the rest of the remaining Corries desert, kills too many storm troopers, and tries to go after his buir fox and the bastard inquisitor who kidnapped him

This is the main stuff you need to know for the AU haha so if you’ve got new name suggestions I’m all ears ty!!

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy finds Red Hood annoying.

Masterpost

All Danny wanted was one peaceful day. That was all. What does he get instead? A 6’ foot, jacked, vigilante crime lord. (Anti-hero, is that what he is? Danny wasn’t sure.) Now Danny’s not gonna say that a tall, built, hot as hell morally gray bad guy isn’t always unwelcome. It was just this one. (Unless, apparently, you’re Jazz. “Seriously?” “Look I don’t need saving but if he wants to come to my rescue, who am I to complain.”) They have gotten into many fights since Danny first moved to Gotham. ( He had chosen to live in a crime alley despite being able to afford slightly better. The money from his college fund was dumped entirely into said school and the money he earned went to bills and groceries.) Said screaming matches weren't even really fights; they were closer to the squabbles he’d get into with Jazz as an annoying way to express concern for each other. (A habit they, unfortunately, learned from their parents.) So having these types of arguments with said morally gray crime lord had Danny wondering if it was too late to cancel Jazz’s flight. (She boarded an hour ago.) He didn’t want them meeting, actually he’d like to keep her as far away as possible.

That’s why it was really inconvenient for these guys to kidnap him today. He had to get his sister from the airport and now he had to deal with Red Hood? Really? Other than Dickwing, Red Hood was the last person Danny wanted to see in a kidnapping situation. At least the others didn't make him feel like he was disappointing them. Only Jazz was allowed to make him feel the sting of disappointment at being reckless (and occasionally Sam and Tucker). Now, Danny thought he had decent common sense (“Shut up, Jazz.”), but he would gladly admit that he didn’t have Gotham common sense. He wasn’t afraid to go out at night just because the Riddler got out of Arkham. Honestly, he didn't see why he had to be afraid given any time of day. Danny was pretty sure he was basically immortal. (“Immortality is not dying and coming back as a full ghost.” “Then what would you call it, Jazz!?”) This seemed to frustrate Red Hood to no end as Danny lived in his part of the city and Danny was prone to finding trouble. (It actually seems to find him, Danny’s not actively going out and looking for it. He’s just trying to get on with his life.)

Anyway, yeah, Jazz was flying in for the weekend and somebody had kidnapped him. A perfectly normal Thursday. So, in perfectly normal Thursday fashion, Spoiler and Red Hood had swooped in while Danny was in the midst of a really intense staring contest with the kidnapper across from him. (“You know the staring is flattering when Tim does it but you make me feel icky.” The man didn't move and his hard stare barely wavered. “Alright, but I warn you I’m really good at this game.”) A flash of purple and the goon was no longer standing. Red Hood had come in guns blazing and made quick work of the other two kidnappers as Danny waited patiently to be untied. He could have phased through the chains he was hanging by but he didn't see a reason to. Just because they knew he could turn invisible didn’t mean they needed to know about everything else. (“That’s gaslighting, Danny.” “Technically, Sam, I think it’s lying by omission.” “Tucker.” “Right, not helping.”)

“Sooo,” Spoiler sang once Danny was free. “Who’s Tim?” You know what? Maybe it was Spoiler he should have been dreading. Red Hood made his way over, “yeah, kid, you got a boyfriend you didn’t tell us about?” Mm no, he regrets being in both their presence. Danny waved their questions away as he turned in a slow circle looking for the door. He wasn't quite sure of the time, but he was positive he was late to pick up Jazz. He answered as he made his way to the unconscious body of the guy who lost the staring contest, “a friend, well, a customer - a regular really. Nice guy, cute, has a staring problem.” Danny stooped down and started digging through the guys pockets, “do either of you know where the exit is?” Thankfully the guy was the one with his phone, he didn't want to search all the kidnappers. Turning it on, Danny saw that he was late and Jazz had already caught a taxi back to his place. The text had got increasingly more panicked the longer he hadn’t responded along with an alarming number of missed calls. 

Danny shot her a quick text as he followed Spoiler out of the building. Sorry, got kidnapped, am fine now. Please don't call. Will explain later. Love ya <3 He quickly added a selfie that Spoiler photo bombed over his shoulder holding up a peace sign. 

The screen immediately lit up with a facetime call. Danny turned it off and stuffed it in his pocket. He really didn't want Jazz meeting Red Hood.

He turned to face his “saviors.” “Okay, this has been fun. Thanks for the rescue, sorry I can’t stay and talk but I am needed elsewhere.” Throwing a quick salute he started down the street. After a block and a half he stopped at the opening of an ally. “You know I hate it when you all just stalk me from the shadows, it's very Babadook of you.” Hood appeared first behind Danny, “what's Babadook?” “A gay icon,” Spoiler drops in front of Danny. “Very true,” Danny high fives her as he hears Red Hood sigh, seeming to mutter to himself, “this is going in the folder.” “Okay,” Danny says, addressing both of them, “you don't need to walk me home.” Red Hood crossed his arms, “you’d rather your ‘Tom’ walk you?” Danny really really didn't want Jazz to meet Red Hood. Danny sighed, “His name is Tim and he’s just a friend and I’d rather nobody walked me home, I’m a fully capable adult.” “Capable huh? That’s what you call last week’s fiasco?” Last week’s fiasco being an incident that may or may not have involved a cult trying to sacrifice him. (He was insulted that they were trying to sacrifice him to a low level demon. He was the king of the infinite realms and they were using him to summon Craig? Really? Not that they knew any of this but still. Rude.) Spoiler placed her forearm on Danny’s shoulder to lean, as if he wasn't a few inches taller then her. “Not to mention tonight's kidnapping.” Danny shrugged her off. “And you two saved me,” he started slowly backing away into the alley behind him, “so, danger avoided.” Red Hood's hand shot out and grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt collar, “uh-uh, you're not pulling the disappearing act tonight.” Danny had indeed been intending to disappear and fly home, now he was being scuffed like a kitten. In hindsight he had pulled that move fairly often with Hood. Crossing his legs Danny refused to be set down on his feet so Red Hood dropped him. “Ow!���One peaceful day, was that too much? (Luckly, they didnt follow him into his building and just watched him enter. Unluckily, he had a worried and very annoyed older sister to face.) (“A selfie, Danny?! Really!?” “I wanted to assure you it was really me!”)

Part 7

[shorthaltsjester]

listen. unless a character explicitly states that a difference in lifespan between them and someone they care about is a concern of their’s, lifespan angst is the most boring and meaningless trope you can add to a fic/fan work. like, yes it is sad to lose someone but that is not because of a difference in lifespan. an elf with 1000+ year life expectancy might die tomorrow, a goliath might live longer than expected. it feels extremely reductive to look at characters with different fantasy races and decide that the biggest concern is that one will outlive the other when those characters have expressed no concern about either outliving or leaving their loved ones behind. like, i get the fear of death and trying to understand that through fictional characters but just do it with the ones who have expressed an actual concern with it, not with characters who seem delighted to get to love someone at all, even if it is brief and mortal. we don’t love people because we think it will be forever, and it hurts when the impermanence of the people we love becomes clear. but if i spent as much time factoring together matters of health and life expectancy for the people i love to try to predict when they’ll die so that i’ll be ready to lose them, i would have a lot less time to love them and it will still hurt just as much when they are no longer around.

[chisatowo]

Oh btw sorry for not posting my every thought on here I've been thinking abt the random card au So hard lately y'all r missing out

[emmcfrxst]

I’m wondering how Laura would react if reader and OldMan!Logan got into a fight? Maybe they tried to keep it away from her but unfortunately the girls too much like her father and ends up hearing most of it.

Ugh and imagine if she saw Logan storming off not realizing that he left you in tears…

(I’m feeling extremely angsty tonight.)

TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, TRAUMA, ILLNESS, UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS, SUICIDAL IDEATIONS & GOD (I guess????) Set before Logan gets, as nonnie put it, chest-fucked, so during the period of time everyone’s trying to escape the fucking Reavers while figuring shit out. It got too long so it’s under the cut

You don’t argue that often with Logan— your relationship is solid and although communication was rocky at first, he’s made significant progress and is able to hold a serious conversation without immediately jumping back into his defense mechanisms (misguided anger, deflection and ultimately fleeing were his initial reactions when you tried establishing proper communication about feelings in the beginning). His progress, however, is rendered completely useless when the conversation is about his rapidly declining health; he’s immediately on the defensive, body going rigid and eyes going dark, jaw clenched so hard you’re afraid he might shatter it— he hates thinking about his newfound mortality, not necessarily because he’s afraid of death (it’s actually quite the opposite, he seeks death in a way, longing for the pain and the nightmares to just stop once and for all) but because he knows that dying means leaving you on your own and that’s something he can’t bear to think about— the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you is immeasurable; it overwhelms him entirely because he knows that losing him would break you and it makes him feel physically ill to think about the consequences. So in true Logan fashion, he blows you off whenever you bring up your concerns, stating that he’s fine, and the anger he feels at himself and his body for failing him ends up being taken out on you through biting words he regrets as soon as they slip from his tongue.

“I’m the one who’s fuckin’ dying, for Christ’s sake, quit your fuckin’ yapping.” It’s a phrase he regrets uttering for multiple reasons: he hates being rude to you in any way, shape or form because you’re the last person who deserves to be subjected to his emotional constipation— you’ve taken all of his broken parts into your hands and pieced them back together with your unconditional love and unwavering patience, you’ve made him feel loved, you’ve made him feel alive, and most importantly, you’ve shown him that he doesn’t have to feel guilty or bitter about his existence. You’ve done so much for him throughout the years and he fucking hates himself for letting his emotions get the better of him like that. The other thing that bothers him deeply about his reaction is the verbal acknowledgment of his condition; it’s something that he somehow believes can be ignored, as if denying it could make it any less real. Acknowledging that he’s dying makes bile rise up his throat— it’s a bitter feeling, really, because he used to wish for death everyday before he met you, heart and mind torn to shreds from years of horrific abuse and unwavering violence; he even prayed to whatever God was out there, despite not being a believer, to just let him go, to free him of the chains of trauma that bound his psyche. His prayers were left unanswered, Logan only accumulating more trauma as the years went by— he can’t count how many times he’s cursed God for making him go through what he’s gone through, needing someone to blame and wishing for a way to end it all. Ironically, Logan’s immortality only seems to waver once he starts treasuring life; it feels like a stab in the back, a cruel joke orchestrated by God who finally decided to answer his prayers now that he wishes he could take them back. The feeling of betrayal only seems to further fuel Logan’s anger towards his illness, which, combined with the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you alone, causes him to act out whenever you bring up the subject. You take offense in the words thrown at you, hurt by the reminder of his impending death and the way he navigates it, arguing back that you do this because you care about him, for fuck’s sake. Unfortunately, that only seems to make things worse, upsetting Logan further and bringing back years’ worth of feeling unworthy of your affections.

“That’s your fuckin’ problem bub. I told ya you shouldn’t waste your time with a man like me.” he physically winces as he utters those words, wishing he could unsee the way it makes your entire face crumble with despair— it’s a slap in the face, really, to be brought back to square one and have him reject you in this way. Logan flees before either of you can say anything else, slamming the front door behind him and walking in no particular direction until he feels like he can finally breathe again, leaving you in tears at home. Laura, although playing in her makeshift room at the time, hears the whole exchange as clear as day due to her enhanced senses, her fists clenching with rage when her ears pick up the sound of your stifled sobs. You feel her before you even hear her, your body tensing as a pair of small, skinny arms wrap around your middle, a head resting along your spine. After the initial alarm of feeling someone touching you, you can’t help but let out a watery laugh at just how easy it seemed for her to surprise you, turning around in Laura’s arms so you can look down at her. A frown is etched onto her features, lips puckered into an angry pout as she hugs you tighter, insulting Logan in spanish under her breath. It makes you laugh again, this time softly, your hand smoothing out her hair as you sniffle.

“I’m okay, Laura. I’m okay.” she glares up at you, unconvinced, giving you another squeeze and reluctantly allowing her features to relax when you gently run a fingertip across the furrow of her brows— despite not being together for long, you find that you’re able to soothe Laura quite easily; there is a connection between the two of you like you’ve never felt before, a bond that you feel like you were always destined to have. Your heart warms at the obvious way the child seems to care for you, wanting nothing more than to make all of her worries disappear.

“He made you cry.” her voice is so quiet that you almost miss it, a soft, indignant noise leaving her at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks. You sniffle again, free hand moving up to wipe at your eyes, the other caressing her hair lovingly.

“I know.” you don’t say that it’s okay because it’s not— Logan crossed a line that you thought had been worn down ages ago, and you’ll be damned before you ever teach Laura that hurtful words can be brushed aside so easily without an apology. It’s for her as much as for you; you’re aware that you deserve respect even when Logan is upset, and you’re not about to stomp down on your self-worth to coddle him when he’s done something wrong. He’ll apologize, you’re sure of it, but until that happens, you’re not going to pretend that his reaction was acceptable. It’s something you categorically refuse to do, and it’s one of the many reasons Logan fell in love with you in the first place. You know your worth.

“I’ll be okay soon.” you tell her honestly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She studies you for a moment longer before nodding her head, allowing you to lead her onto the couch where she curls up next to you.

You’re asleep by the time Logan starts walking back towards the house but Laura hears the crunching of sand and gravel under his shoes, quietly untangling herself from you and moving to the side of the door, frown back on her features. Logan barely has the time to pass the threshold before she’s on him, jumping onto his back like a feral animal and punching his shoulders repeatedly, growling when he grabs her and holds her still, visibly confused and irritated by her behavior.

“Don’t even think about it.” he warns her when she makes to bite the hand that holds her down, frowning down at her just as hard she does up to him. She struggles in his hold, trying to hit him again, making him grunt in pain.

“You made her cry, coño.” the words make Logan freeze in his tracks, eyes falling on your sleeping form on the couch, noting the way your eyes look reddened and the tear tracks on your cheeks. Nausea immediately strikes him like lightning, the expression on his face seeming to satisfy Laura as she stops struggling, frown still evident on her face. She sits up and watches silently once he lets her go, staying nearby to see the situation unfold.

You awake to a calloused hand gently running over the plane of your cheekbone, eyes opening to meet Logan’s remorseful ones. He’s sitting on the ground next to the couch, looming over you in a way that makes you feel safe like no one else ever could.

“Hey.” his voice is hoarse but soft, thumb swiping back and forth over your skin in a silent act of comfort. It makes you smile despite your grogginess, and you feel more than you hear Logan releasing a soft, relieved inhale through his nose.

“Hey.” you answer him just as softly, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes again, content to feel him again.

“I’m sorry.” the words sound heavy coming out of his mouth, a grim expression taking over his features as he wipes off the remnants of your earlier tears.

“I know.” you reply simply, turning your head to press a gentle kiss against the roughened palm of his hand. It makes him exhale shakily, shoulders squaring as he prepares himself for the discomfort of the following words.

“Didn’t mean to snap at you, baby. I just… I feel helpless, I guess, and it fuckin’ pisses me off. Never had to worry about dying and leaving you alone before.” he says the words slowly, trying to make the last sentence sound like a joke, tone falling flat. You can tell he’s uncomfortable with the discussion but he pushes through, causing you to feel a rush of sympathy— he’s trying, you know he’s trying, and that means something to you.

“I know. I feel helpless, too. But you have to remember that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, it’s you and me until the end.” he laughs wetly at your words, nodding his head and swallowing thickly before speaking again.

“I know.” this time it’s his turn to provide reassurance, the two little words more than enough for the both of you. The feeling of his warm lips connecting with your forehead makes your eyes flutter shut, hand coming up to lay over the one he’s curled around the back of your neck.

“Kid’s kicked my ass for making you cry.” he mumbles against your skin, the amusement in his voice clear. It makes you snort in surprise, unaware that Laura had intervened before you woke up.

“Did she? Well, you kinda deserved it.” your answer is playful, tone devoid of its previous heaviness, your eyes meeting Laura’s over Logan’s shoulder for a brief moment before focusing on your lover once again.

“That I did.” he agrees simply, a soft, tender, apologetic smile on his face. You lean further into him when he kisses your nose, heart feeling lighter than it had in a while.

You were going to be okay.

[darknight3904]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘝𝘰𝘪𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘨. 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯, 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024). 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘦𝘯 𝘝, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦.

𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥/𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 30𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘢��𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3.4 𝘬

𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Wade Wilson was never one to believe in fate. Why should he? He was immortal after all. But, here he stood, in The Void watching two variants stare at each other like they'd seen a ghost.

"Oh. My. God." He spins to face his new yellow-clad friend.

Logan glances over at him, a heavy scowl on his face.

"Careful, Peanut, you'll get wrinkles." Wade snorts, "It's her, the one I told you about...or well a variant of Mr. Deceased Anchor Being's lover."

Wade turns away from Logan, looking at the woman who seems to be working out how to murder his yellow-clad friend. Said friend looked like he was going to combust or faint, Wade wasn't quite sure.

"Can I just say, you totally kicked ass on that farm. Too bad that writer of yours killed ya off. How bland, dying at the end!"

"You're an annoying prick, you know that? The woman scowls at him

"Ha! Twin scowls, you and Wolvie are a match made in heaven!" Wade grins under his mask

"Not interested," Logan says almost too quickly before stalking off to the pile of alcohol in the corner.

The blood manipulator lets out a scoff, "Like you'd even be given a chance."

"Oooo hostile. I smell a spin-off. Maybe it'll even be longer than three chapters this time...maybe not! All I know is that it'll be chock-full of tension, romance, and a sprinkle of some good old-fashioned fucking."

"Shut the fuc-"

Eight months had passed. Eight months of being free of The Void. Eight months since an annoying red prick, with his equally aggravating friend, came into your life.

"Morning, Pumpkin." Wade greets you, with a nonconsensual "boop" to the nose.

"Don't touch me." You grumble, reaching for the fresh pot of coffee.

You add milk and sugar andtake a slow sip, savoring the flavor. Despite his mouth, Wade picked fantastic coffee flavors whenever he went grocery shopping.

"Caffeine, the way to a woman's heart." Wade sighs, sipping at his own mug.

"Don't you have cars to sell?" You ask, glancing at the clock which read half past nine

"It's Saturday, my day off." Wade grins, "Home all day, baby!"

"Fantastic," Logan mumbles, entering the kitchen.

"Morning, Wolverine." Wade greets the hunk of muscle

No reply leaves his lips as he nudges you aside, desperate for coffee as well.

"Ever hear of excuse me?" You snap, stepping a few paces to your right, nearly colliding with Wade.

"No," Logan says, sipping at his disgusting black coffee.

"And another great day starts. How many arguments today? I'm betting on at least ten." Wade predicts looking between the two of you.

"Twenty," Logan says

"I'm not giving you that much of my time, Logan."

His name leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. God, even his face pissed you off.

"Don't stare too much, bub. You'll give me the wrong idea."

You want to throttle him. And no, not in the sexy way.

A cool fall breeze waves through your hair as you push the window in your room open. Laura was the perfect roommate and even lit an apple-scented candle before heading out for whatever she had planned for the day.

Not even the sounds of Wade and Logan arguing would ruin your morning as you snatch little Mary from her spot on Wade's bed. Depositing the ugly (affectionate) dog onto your own bed, you lounge next to her, a book balanced on your lap while one hand pets her little head.

"Mary, can you believe that Daenerys is bald in the book? Can't believe HBO left that out."

The little dog next to you lets out a snort, followed by a sneeze, followed by a huge glob of snot.

You groan in disgust and rush to the bathroom, needing to wash the dog snot off. You loved her, but sometimes that dog was disgusting.

"Hey! I'm shaving!" Logan huffs when you push him out of the way to access the sink

"I'm covered in dog snot." You explain, leaning over to wash your hands

"Shit. Knicked myself."

You look up at Logan who now has a small stream of blood running down his neck to his shirt collar.

"You're fine."

Sure enough, it closes up a second later and Logan grumbles a curse at you.

"Don't get your panties in a twist." You pat his shoulder, undeterred at the growl that leaves his throat.

"You stained my shirt." He says

"Uh, that was your blood, not mine." You scoff trying to leave the bathroom when he steps in front of you.

"Wouldn't have happened if you didn't shove your fatass in here to wash your damn hands." Logan glares

"You think it's fat? Thanks, I've been doing squats before bed."

You should've expected it really, yet somehow you're always caught off guard as his hands grasp your shirt, lifting you up and tossing you out of the bathroom and into the living room. The coffee table meets its end when you slam into it.

"What. The. Fuck." You groan, standing up and shaking wood chips from your clothes, one of them even pierced your arm, warm blood staining your shirt, "This was my favorite shirt."

You could just tell the blood to leave the fabric, it would be easier like that. But, this wasn't about ease, it was about principle. And the man in front of you? His principles were totally fucked up.

"Now we're even." Logan smugly says

"Okay, guys let's take five deep breaths And just reel it-"

"Shut the fuck up, Wade."

"Right, sorry. We can have our fight later, Peanut. I'm saving a special new knife for you."

Logan is distracted by Wade's babbling and caught off guard when you use your powers to pin him to the wall.

"Did you know your blood, moves faster than other people's?" You ask, tightening your hold on him when he struggles, "Makes it a bit harder to control, but I can make it work. After all, it's certainly fun to see you pinned down like this."

"Go ahead, bitch. Blow me up, pop my head off. It'll all grow back anyway." Logan snarls

"No one's popping anything. This is a new rug!" Al shouts from her spot in her recliner

You think about it, you really do. Blowing his leg off, or an arm, you'd done it only once before after he got too drunk and puked into one of your shoes just a month after escaping The Void.

"I have work." You mumble, letting him slide down the wall. You lean down to his level as he sits with his back to the wall, "Call me a bitch again and I'll rip your dick off and shove it up your nose."

"I'd love to see that. Have a good day at work, Pumpkin!" Wade calls as you disappear back into your room to get changed, ignoring Logan's disgruntled look.

Thedore's Books is one of the few places you actually like in this universe. You'd stopped in just a month after Wade pulled you from the void, planning to just buy a book to keep yourself busy. Your now coworker, Matt had convinced you to fill a job application out. Two weeks later, you were standing behind the counter, ringing books up.

"You know, you claim to suck at customer service, yet people leave Google reviews raving about you." Matt sighs looking at the computer screen, displaying another positive review

"I do suck. Some people are just too dumb to realize it." You say, fixing the display of this month's bestseller.

"Well, I wish I had this many five stars for service. The last good review I had was last month from that old guy." Matt groans

"Was he the one that smelled like sardines?"

"That, and he had a total hard-on the entire time I was telling him about the buy one get one sale."

"Gross." Your nose wrinkles in disgust

"Right? If you're gonna be a perv at least be a hot one." Matt says

You roll your eyes, "You are a desperate whore."

"Me? You're the one who raves about that roommate of yours? The big manly one who came in with that burn victim a few weeks ago."

You spin around in horror at the idea of "raving" about Logan.

"I don't rave about him!" You declare, "He pisses me off and I need someone to vent to!"

"Oh please. If he wasn't all over you, I would've hit on him the moment he walked in that door. His arms were bigger than my head." Matt sighs dreamily

"Logan isn't all over me." You shake your head, "And you're welcome to go for it. I'm pretty sure his sexuality is on the spectrum. Wade claims that he caught him watching gay porn like last week."

"Is Wade the cancer burn man or the old lady?" Matt asks

"Cancer man." You answer, cursing when your hand bumps a stack of books, sending them to the floor.

"Whatever. All I know is last time Mr. Muscles was in here, He was staring at your ass when you went to pick up a box to restock a shelf.

"You're delusional."

That evening you return to a peaceful apartment. Or well, semi-peaceful, no one was bleeding or missing a limb at least. Instead, an intense Mario Kart competition was taking place, to your amusement, Laura was beating both men who were cursing her out.

"A red shell?! Are you fucking with me?!" Wade screeches as Logan's character speeds past him.

"Pizza bites?" Al asks when you greet her.

You accept the luke warm food and plop down on the couch next to Laura.

"Nice." You compliment her as she crosses the finish line in first place.

"Don't compliment her, she's a cheater." Wade groans as he finishes in third place, "She blue-shelled me and stole my thunder. Then, P.T. Barnum here hit me with a red shell just now! Where is the honesty in this home?"

"Wade, that's just how the game is played," Laura says looking at him.

"Zip it, Jecki Lon, don't you have to be a Padawan in like half an hour?"

"There's something wrong with you." Laura shakes her head in dismay

"You're right. There is." Wade grins, "Now, I have an appointment with the mound of devil's dandruff in my room. You comin' Althea?"

Al gets up and moves faster than you've ever seen her move, following Wade down the hall, the promise of cocaine seems to have cured her old age.

"Wanna have a rematch, kid?" Logan asks Laura, ignoring you.

Laura turns to you, handing you Wade's controller, "Wanna play?"

"I'd never pass down a chance to beat this fool at anything." You grin, ignoring how Logan flips you off from the other side of the couch. Poor Laura, sandwiched between the two of you on this shitty Ikea couch.

Laura slowly stood up and collected the joy cons from the coffee table. Two hours of Mario Kart, many arguments, and an episode of The Office later, you and Logan were finally asleep. She turned around to stare down at the two of you, still sitting up but facing each other, asleep on the couch like the old people you were.

Nearly a year ago you had shown up in the void. Seeing one dead parental figure was a shocker but when Logan showed up with Wade, Laura thought she was seeing things. You had never mentioned your version of Logan and she had always assumed you just didn't have one. But, the instant hostility and the past eight months had her thinking otherwise. She had asked this new Logan if he had you in his universe. He of course brushed her off and told her to drop the subject.

Laura looked between the two of you wondering what each of your pasts were. She wondered if there was any possibility of getting back what she had lost so many years ago.

The sound of whimpering wakes you up the next morning. A sharp pain in your neck is the first thing you register as you open your eyes, the next thing is Logan's face a mere six inches from yours. He looks peaceful while he's asleep. Soft snores leave his nose and the pinch of annoyance that's normally in his brow is gone. You can't help but admire him, sure he was a pain in the ass but he was good looking at least. Fuck, he's got long eyelashes, why did men always have better eyelashes? It made you so jealous.

Logan's eyes flutter open and big brown eyes meet your own. For just a moment he stays still, keeping your gaze, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Another whimper fills your ears and the trance is broken. You and Logan jump off the couch, putting ample distance from each other. You turn to your right to see Mary sitting at the door, gently scratching at it.

"I knew Wade wouldn't be able to take care of a dog." You sigh, "Hold on sweetie, I'll take you out, let me run to the bathroom first."

You slip into your shoes and clip the leash to the little dog, trying to ignore the fact that Logan is pissing with the door open and you can hear his fucking urine.

"Wait," Logan calls as you open the door

You turn and look at him in confusion as he pulls a flannel over that stupid tank top he wears too often.

"Wanna go grab coffee with me?" He asks

"Thought you hated me." You say

"Last night, before you got back, Laura asked me to try to uh be civil with you. Said she asked you to do the same." He murmurs

"I thought she was joking." You deadpan

Logan looks at you like you're stupid.

"Don't give me that confused kitten look." You sigh

"Fine, fuck off then" Logan grumbles

You watch as he begins to take his flannel back of probably ready to go back to bed. You glance down at Mary who looks ready to piss all over the floor, her little face wins you over,

"Fine, fine. You win, let's get coffee."

Sure enough, Mary is filled to the brim with pee and barely makes it down the many steps of the building. You stand there in the grass waiting for her to be done, Logan right next to you with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"That dog's like, 12 pounds, how is she still peeing?" Logan asks staring down at her

"Wade must've forgotten to let her out before going to bed last night." You sigh

"Yeah, all that cocaine must've rotted his brain," Logan says

"If there was anything left up there to rot. Did you know the other day he asked me if there were birds in Canada?"

A smile works its way across Logan's face and he shakes his head.

"I told him to fuck off and then he told me movie star Ryan Reynolds would know." You sigh

Surprisingly, Logan actually lets out a laugh at that. It must be shocking because even Mary looks up at him, finally done with her peeing episode.

"Who even is that?" He asks

"Does it really matter? Wade's full of shit anyway."

Logan agrees and then falls into step with you, slowly walking on the outside of the sidewalk. He watches you carefully as you compliment the dog who has picked up a stick half the size of her body. In his world, you had always loved cats more than dogs. He wondered if this version of you even liked cats, you were always cooing at Wade's dog like it was your damn kid.

"So where are we getting coffee?" You ask

"What?" He asks dumbly

"You asked so I figured you had a place picked." You sigh, clearly annoyed

Logan racks his brain for a good coffee joint. The best he can come up with is the diner Wade showed him once that sold it for 99 cents a cup. What was he thinking asking you out for coffee without a plan?

"What about here?" He asks, stopping in front of a Starbucks.

"Seriously? You roll your eyes, "We're in New York, there are a million local joints and you choose a shitty chain?"

"Sorry, I don't have elite coffee taste." Logan growls, suddenly pissed off, at least he wouldn't go back to Laura without trying to get along with you. It wasn't his fault this version of you was so damn annoying.

You sigh and glance down at Mary who looks up at him. Why does he feel like he's being judged by not one but two women right now?

"How about...we go to Duke's? They've got awesome lattes and even give out dog treats." You suggest

Logan doesn't give a shit where he gets his morning coffee. The machine back at the apartment would've been his first choice but whatever Duke's was would be good too.

He can't help it, really. He doesn't want to come off as weird yet he finds him watching you out of the corner of his eye. You're so fascinating to him, even when you piss him off like you did yesterday.

Sometimes he feels sad about it all, his own universe, how he failed you. Yet, now here he was, savior of a universe and standing next to you again. The immediate hostility between the two of you, he couldn't place where that was coming from in himself. Sure, he had no idea what your version of Logan had done, yet he couldn't find a reason for his anger. Perhaps it was just that you were aggravating. The idea of you, or well a different version of you, was a bit mind-boggling to him.

He stands next to you in line and even lets you order for him. He insists on paying however can't help but regret it when he hears the total. Where does this place get off on charging these prices?

"I would've paid." You say as the two of you sip your drinks on the way back to the apartment.

"I asked you to come out with me. I was planning on paying anyway." He brushes it off

He can hardly believe it. You've been with him for nearly an hour and the two of you have yet to really get into a real argument.

"I've gotta admit this wasn't that bad." You say, he swears he hears a hint of happiness in your voice.

"See? Guess I'm not a total asshole." Logan finds himself saying

What was he doing? Surely he wasn't flirting with you?

You let out a small hum, "We'll leave that one up to interpretation."

Logan glances down at the dog that walks along happily at your heels. He swears it's mocking him, just the way it's owner would.

The droplets of rain that hit his shoulders have him looking up quickly.

"We'll be fine, the weather said no rain today." You assure

You're wrong, very wrong. Less than twenty seconds later, the sky opens up and he's drenched. He curses you out and you match his energy, telling him he's a total shithead. He reaches down and scoops the dog up, slightly cringing at the feel of her wet skin on his.

"Let's go." He grumbles above the storm.

"Well, well, look at you two," Wade comments as you enter the apartment.

"Eat shit, Wade." You grumble

Logan sets the dog back on the ground and Wade immediately starts talking to her in that baby voice.

"Can't believe you said there wasn't going to be any rain." He says

He means it as a joke, a gentle tease to ease some of the past 8 months of tension.

"Fuck off, we wouldn't have even been out there if you hadn't asked me to go out with you." You simmer

"You asked her out?! Peanut you should have told me."

Logan shoots the other man a glare that has him shutting up.

"Yeah well, we wouldn't have gotten caught in the rain if we didn't have to walk thirty minutes to your stupid coffee place." He finds himself saying.

What's he doing? He enjoyed the walk for crying out loud. But here you were annoying him again

"Oh please, you asked to go to get coffee and then didn't even have a place picked! Sorry, I had to pick up your slack."

You reach out and point an accusatory finger, tapping it harshly into his chest.

"Fuck off. I'll never ask again then." Logan declares, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Good." You say before stomping off to your room like some kid.

Logan groans and slumps into the recliner, ignoring Wade's comment about his clothes still being soaked through. You were insane, jumping to conclusions, and don't even get him started on the severe lack of humor towards him. It's like you were the bitchiest version of you the universe could've offered to him. What the fuck was he going to do?

Part Two

Woah, talk about a gear shift. A new Logan to write for, and a new version of Reader (an angry one, we'll get to that later *winks*)

If anyone is here from Promise, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope you also enjoy this series as well.

Quick housekeeping notes:

For purposes of this fic, Laura is the same one from Promise. She has lost both Reader and Logan (old man one).

This story will have a different tone than the last one due to this Logan being a different guy than Old Man Logan.

Blind Al has a three-bedroom apartment in this because I said so and I'm the boss. Logan rooms with Wade, Reader with Laura, and our queen, Al gets a whole room to herself.

Tags:

@kellyxo1

[intromortal]

⸻IN PROGRESS

last updated 14.11.2024

a-n ! this is mostly for tracking and tag list purposes. these will all take a while because they're all on the longer side and are subject to change!! + i'm a slow writer and often very busy. but it's still fun to show you guys what i'm working on :) taglists for all of these are open!

CASHMERE COLOGNE.

falling for his client is definitely not part of jay's job requirements. quite the opposite actually. especially when said client is soon to be married off to super rich, super talented, super hot park sunghoon.

PAIRING bodyguard!jay x artist!reader

CONTENT ⚠︎ smut. mdni. angst, fluff, bodyguard!au, self-doubt, reader is an artist, she’s also shameless, (escaping an) arranged marriage!au, sunghoon really doesn't wanna marry you... but it's mutual so. honestly this is getting way more romcommy than i anticipated...

STATUS writing

WORD COUNT currently 9k, total est. around 30k (we hope)

warnings + more wips under the cut

WARNINGS: multiple smut scenes, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (f), spit, things happen in a car, reckless driving, public sex, use of ma’am, edging, orgasm denial, protected and unprotected sex, snowballing ...more to be added

TOO GOOD TO PUT A PRICE ON IT.

you would be crazy to turn down free rent in exchange of getting fucked daily by the guy you've been pining after for months, but your step brother happens to want something in return too.

PAIRING stepbro!sunghoon x reader x camboy!jungwon

CONTENT ⚠︎ smut. mdni. roomate!au

STATUS outlined

WORD COUNT estimated around 10k

WARNINGS stepcest, live-streamed sex, threesome, yes reader fucks sungwon for rent bitch i would too! ...more to be added

PUSSY JACKPOT !

you spend an extravagant night with jake and his friends at a casino to celebrate his latest promotion. it takes a wild turn when your sweet boyfriend decides to go all in and bet on your even sweeter pussy, knowing how all of his friends have been dying for a taste. no matter who wins though, you know it's gonna be you hitting the jackpot.

PAIRING bf's best friend!jay, heeseung and sunghoon x reader, bf!jake x reader, jay focused.

CONTENT ⚠︎ smut. mdni. gambling

STATUS outlining

WORD COUNT tbd

WARNINGS infidelity, semi-public sex, stepcest, rest of hyungline get to watch ...more to be added

BUCKLE BUNNY RODEO.

the yearly PBR world finals hit your hometown again, and as always you find yourself dealing with all the losers coming to your bar to drown their sorrows in alcohol. things take an interesting turn when the winner shows up and challenges you to beat the shabby mechanical bull at the center of the overcrowded bar, promising you an even wilder ride upstairs if you're willing to take his offer.

PAIRING pro bull rider!jay x bartender!reader

GENRE ⚠︎ smut. mdni.

STATUS outlining

WORD COUNT tbd

WARNINGS alcohol consumption, body shots, temperature play, facesitting, spit, cowboy jay has chest hair argue with the wall!! ...more to be added

↳ PART TWO.

it's been a year, and jay's fellow pro bull riders want a ride too, after hearing so much about you from their dearest friend. and who are you to refuse them, when they're talking so sweet and dirty?

WARNINGS heejake take turns, wet humping, like very wet, thigh fucking, tit fucking, oral (m. rec) ...more to be added

LAST TRAIN TO LONDON.

in some lives you're a painter, in others you're a musician, a writer. in some you get to grow old, maybe away from jay, maybe right beside him. in some you get to love him until your last breath, even when you're young and stupid. you're all over the world, all over time and all over jay's heart, for he lives and breathes to love you in every lifetime of yours, even if you don't remember. he always looks for you yet it's always fate bringing you back to him, this time it's by making sure you don't miss the last train to london.

PAIRING immortal!jay x mortal!reader

CONTENT angst w an hopeful ending, fluff, ⚠︎ smut, soulmate!au, reincarnation!au

STATUS outlining

WORD COUNT tbd

WARNINGS tbd

EACH TIME YOU FALL IN LOVE.

the sun shines bright even in the face of death, your most beloved husband cold in his casket despite the warmth of the weather, and sunghoon wishes circumstances were different.

or, you and sunghoon ponder on what could have been.

PAIRING sunghoon x reader ( + jay )

CONTENT angst, very minimal fluff, ⚠︎ smut, old people😞, multiple character deaths, time skips... more to be added

STATUS outlined

WORD COUNT tbd

WARNINGS tbd

⸻SERIES

MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK.

jake has to be the most infuriating, cocky, stuck up actor you've had the displeasure to work with so far. and you wish you'd just rejected your role when your pr teams have the fantastic idea to push the limits on those... relationship rumors about you and your horrible coworker that have spread like wildfire everywhere.

PAIRING co-star!jake x movie star!reader

CONTENT angst, eventual fluff and ⚠︎ smut, fake dating, rivals to lovers.

STATUS outlining

WORD COUNT total est. 60k

WARNINGS tbd

A LITTLE DEATH.

your time at the academy is up and the choice of the companion for your graduation mission is ripped away from your hands without a notice, gifting (cursing) you instead with three less than ideal ones.

or, jungwon feels a little more human every time your touch lingers on his skin

PAIRING trained assassin!jungwon x trained assassin!reader

CONTENT ⚠︎ smut, mdni. angst, rivals to lovers!au, rival families!au, found family trope, everyone and their mama needs therapy, multiple character deaths, a lot of action, morally gray characterization

STATUS writing

WORD COUNT currently 11k, total est probably some shit like 150k i'm sick

WARNINGS multiple smut scenes ...more to be added

ENHYPEN AS SEASONS. hyungline + sunwon ↳ where i assign the members to a season and make fics out of it ! all of these contain smut but also tooth rotting levels of fluff jsjejdje i'm sorry this isn't me usually!! what happened!!!

• SUNGHOON AS WINTER / hockey player!sunghoon

↳ your younger brother brings you along on a snowy new year's eve trip to the mountains with his hockey teammates in hopes of finally getting you and sunghoon to get along.

• JAKE AS SPRING / florist!jake

↳ jake feels it's his duty to smooth out that frown on your face when you first meet him, as the self proclaimed town-happy-pill. he loves his job like nothing else, driving around in his flower delivery truck right along with layla, making everyone's days better. while you can't stand how bright he is all the time, what the hell is his deal anyway?

• HEESEUNG AS SUMMER / beachside barista!heeseung

↳ bleached hair, salt water, warm sun and sand between his toes. waves crashing, the buzz of alcohol and muffled thumping of music, heeseung loves summer every time all the same. this year you just happen to make it so much better, and even when he knows you're only there for this vacation, he hopes you can stay and warm him up for the colder seasons too.

• JAY AS FALL / ex!jay

↳ your friends convince you to try your local coffee shop's new blind date experience, months after your very first heartbreak. you don't expect your ex to be your match. or, mending a relationship turns out to be a lot more trouble than resolving murder mysteries.

! bonuses

• SUNOO AS SPRING BREAK / ex childhood bff!sunoo

↳ truthfully, leaving for a different college after promising you'd go to the same one in hopes of quenching his feelings from blossoming further wasn't sunoo's best move. or, sunoo is itching to finally be back home.

• JUNGWON AS CHRISTMAS / frenemy!jungwon

↳ it's no secret that you and jungwon butt heads constantly, and your friends have gotten quite annoyed by your antics. so what better way to resolve this if not assigning you two to be each other's secret santas? or, everyone is a little kinder once christmas comes around.

[maacbrem]

Thinking about Lieve’tel and Bertrand and crying at the club

She’s off putting and she knows it, knows that she moves a bit too carefully to seem entirely natural and when she speaks there’s an unearthly resonance to her voice and when she closes her eyes she sees all the threads of the world converging into warp and weft. She’s seen generations pass her by while she remains unchanged, her goddess’s voice and silence guiding her onwards, and she knows when people look at her they reject what they can’t understand. The Champion left behind his family to serve the Matron, and she takes it as her duty to watch over them even when they insult, demean, mock and dismiss her (even when they watch her back in battle and allow her to guard theirs in turn, which for warrior folk like them is as good as a declaration of care even as they refuse to meet her eyes or hold her gaze too long in a challenge she won’t answer).

And Bertrand is… normal. Ordinary. Unremarkable until he opens his mouth, and prone to sticking his foot there. He’s an aging human enamoured with the idea of being not a hero, per se, but a heroic figure. The dream of a legacy drives him. He learned to duel in fencing clubs but his first real fight was a half-drunken brawl to reclaim a bard’s stolen tips. He has a sense of righteousness but doesn’t always act on it and the older he gets the more frightened he is of dying without meaning. He makes her laugh, and then he does it again on purpose, and he keeps doing it for as long as they spend together.

She makes time for him when he’s in Vasselheim, usually scouting out the up-and-coming young adventuring parties that make their way through the city because he wants to be a mentor but hasn’t quite figured out what he has to offer yet. He attends services and makes offerings and lets her unpick his tangled anxieties about what comes after. They get thirty years in intervals of hours to weeks, and they’re not exclusive - neither of them is ever in a place to make promises they don’t really need - but they keep circling back to each other.

She knows she’s going to lose him and he knows she’s already mourning him. He gives her a bell for her prayer beads and she passes on the name of an old supplicant with a bloody past who might have work that suits him in Marquet. When he dies, she knows he’s gone before she wakes that morning. When the world is poised to end, she puts herself on the line with his token in hand because it is her duty and her honor, and because Bertrand once said that to be remembered well is to be immortal without cost, and what they had might not have been love but it was important.

[someweirdoreblogger]

Burning Spice Cookie is passion ignited, albeit not in the moral side of the conscious spectrum. He is quite affectionate, actually, more than you may give him credit for.

Do not mistake it as humane, as a blind genosity. It comes not from a moral source of obligation or even gerenal priority.

Once the deranged loin-a Beast amongst monsters-the corrupted Lord himself is invested, your scent guiding freely through the droves, to shake him off your trail will prove diffcult. Burning Spice is not so kind to let prey go by unscathed, untouched by his mighty axe; His shadow stalks the trees, quaking, a deafening roar booms in the distance.

The Hunt begins.

You dare infringe upon his heart, you invade his senses, scrabble his thoughts; you really think you can simply crawl back home unscathed?

What home have you to turn too? Who would even think to take you back with the mark of a Beast weighing down your back?

Luckily, this debt can be paid. Paid solely by your own parry and peril. Burning Spice will remember your tracks better than the back of his own hand.

Once he comes, just an arrogant march away, you will know. The world itself will alert, not you, but itself to his sudden existence.

The birds will cease their music, the ground will shake and stumble; struggling to keep its foundation stable and lively. The lakes, far and wide, the sky, the kisses of clouds and weak leaves rip itself apart, dancing in the reflection below. It ripens in sheer unbalanced tension, seemingly frightened; the water will ripple like static, wavering under a wave of immense, exotic shock, and pressure.

The wind is ecstatic, nature's personal enthusiasm; it moans, groans, and sighs heavy in your ear. Desperate to be heard.

You will taste him in the air, a suffocating sulfur and ghastly spice, it threatens to choke weaker beings. Feel him fester like sparks on your crust, hair standing up stiff, dough throbbing. Tingling and blazing hot, a Beast's presence is a neigh-suffocating weight. You will never know peace until he deems you worthy of such.

Burning Spice roams triumphant, forever hungry. An immovable glare in the sky, a blinding scorch to the people's merger eyes, looking down civilization in cold indifference; The same way a god regurds his subjects. Just ants, peasy insects, building their anthills, simply hoping to piece together a safe haven for themselves in a universe far too large to tackle alone.

The Vitue of Change, The Lord of Destruction, will stand tall alone. Boundless from any chain as mortals rise, spoil and fall. A proud witness to the beginning, present, and the end, the natural tides of history sow in the seeds of devastation he leaves behind. He is a slave to his base desires, as all Cookies are; a chaotic harbinger of endless malice and merciless strife.

But he is still yet a man. A heartless monster in a man's skin. A Cookie baked in the same oven as his fellow kin, a great Beast, seeking to completely deprive himself of sheer boredom and simplicity.

All immortals carry the burden, the smooth erosion of time is not lost even to Beasts, as the ocean inevitably swipes a wet hand over the sand. He lives long and simply withstands, and he stares at the lesser mass in a bubbling, volcanic envy, hanging loose like a knot on his shoulders; the deeper things, the pleasant things. The majority of it stems from an infectious curiosity, aching hunger boiling in the depths of a Beast.

An unstoppable force suspended in a space completely at its mercy.

Burning Spice, gerenally, is an incredibly expressive person; entertainment, living life to the fullest drives his very soul off the edge of madness and carnage. His being is a godly sight to behold, and he wears this infernal arrogance in fine silks and peakish sneers. The weak tremble beneath the heel of their superiors, the Beast of Destruction is bloody pride embodied.

And this God, this Beast will strave for your worship; shall rip it from the dying, rotting hands of the torn world.

Carnal, burnt crimson in abhorrent brutality, Burning Spice is honestly an upfront sort. He won’t shy away from confrontation, solemn. He knows what he needs, what he wants, so he will steal it if one ever dares refuse it from him.

What is inevitable is virtue, Burning Spice knows this in his very jam. He does hold some semblance of responsibility and honor, albeit it won’t make him any less immorally stubborn or hot-headed. He approaches a desired interest alike how a lion stalks his prey; the same way he approaches a potential hunt, with fierce, burning determination and endless persistence.

[jellybuttons]

Crowley's "oh" moment wasn't him realizing that he's in love

Okay so we've all talked about the scene where Nina asks Crowley if Aziraphale is his "bit on the side" or whatever and Crowley has that visable fanfiction "oh" moment on his face afterwards. And I know a lot of people think it must have been Crowley realizing that he was in love with Aziraphale, but that's never sat right with me. Crowley is emotionally repressed and oblivious, sure, but he's been down bad for that angel since the beginning. I just can't believe he didn't know it the whole time. That can't have been what he was reacting to. Hell, just the nervous swallow he does at the beginning of that conversation implies that he knows exactly what Nina is about to ask him, meaning he at least already has that idea in his head.

I think what he was reacting to was Nina's last comment, "other people's love lives always seem so much more straightforward than our own" (I'm quoting from memory but I got the gist of it).

Crowley has been in love for a long time by this point. He's also, for that entire time, understood that nothing can be done about it. Up until Armageddon failed, there was no universe where Crowley and Aziraphale could safely be together, and Crowley cares too much about Aziraphale to truly risk his safety (although he does have his selfish moments--that need to know that Aziraphale cares for him too, that he's not completely alone in this partnership). Nothing could change, so there was no point in doing anything about it.

In the few years post Armageddon, though, it seems like QUITE a bit has changed for the two of them. Remember, these are two immortal beings...a few years is milliseconds to them. But in those milliseconds, it seems like Crowley has become a regular establishment in the bookshop, glasses off and all. Aziraphale felt comfortable enough with him to ask to borrow the Bentley, Crowley's prized possession and his literal home. They've gotten COMFY in a very short amount of time, objectively, and I'm sure it felt like big change to Crowley, who knows better than to ask for things he doesn't think he can have.

But Nina's comment. "Other people's love lives always seem so much more straightforward than our own". A direct parallel to exactly how Crowley has been thinking about her and Maggie this whole time--two people who just need a push (romantic awning, anyone?) and everything else would fall into place. Easy. Uncomplicated.

Crowley's "oh" moment isn't that he's in love with Aziraphale. It's that maybe being in love with Aziraphale doesn't have to be complicated.

Other people's love lives DO seem more straightforward than Crowley's own. But if Nina feels that way about him, as sure as he is about her and Maggie...could it be that easy? Could he have that with his angel? I don't think at this point that Crowley has any doubt about whether or not Aziraphale feels something for him (whatever that something may be in Crowley's mind), but after all...Aziraphale asked him to slow down. So he's been taking it slow. Hanging around more. Leaning into his space. Soaking up every second of Az's smiles like a dying man, content with whatever he's given.

But Nina. She thinks they're together already. No doubt in her mind. She thinks it's so straightforward, that of COURSE they're together, two people who look at each other with that much love in their eyes must be, right? And I think that "oh" is Crowley's realization that maybe it IS straightforward. After all, they're them, right? No more Heaven, no more Hell, no actual reason they couldn't just...be together. In that moment, Crowley isn't realizing that he's in love with Aziraphale. He's known he's in love for a very long time. No, that moment was him realizing that, maybe, he can stop pretending not to be, that maybe all they have to do is stop pretending they aren't everything to each other. Does he need to slow down if there's no danger to avoid?

When Nina and Maggie confront him at the end, encourage him to confess...objectively, I don't think Crowley as a character would agree to anything nearly that vulnerable without a LOT more convincing. But he does agree. And you could argue that it's because of Gabe and Beez, sure, but when has Crowley ever used other angels and demons as reasoning behind his choices? No, consistently, Crowley has followed humans every time. Gabe and Beez are nothing but conveniently timed examples. I think that even without G and B running off together, Nina and Maggie could've convinced him after nothing but this "oh" conversation with Nina.

When Crowley is choking out his confession in the final 15 of episode 6, so desperate to make Aziraphale understand...he says "we're a pair, a group, a group of the two of us, and we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't". That's the point he's trying to get across. They can stop pretending, they can stop pretending, please, god, stay here Aziraphale and don't make him keep pretending.

Please, Aziraphale, he's saying. Don't go back. I only just realized that it doesn't have to be complicated. He realized that, maybe, finally, he was allowed.

Oh, he thought, out there on the sidewalk with Nina, there's nothing left but me stopping me from being happy.

Oh, he thought, while Nina and Maggie urged him to communicate, the couple that so perfectly mirrored his own wants, I could tell him how I feel.

Oh, he thought, as Aziraphale looked at him with excited eyes and explained that he wanted them both to go back to Heaven, that Crowley could become an angel again, that they could go right back to working for the very thing that had been keeping them apart for thousands of years. Oh, oh god. I thought it was over. I thought we were free. I thought that, finally, maybe, it could be easy. Maybe we can stop pretending.

And he kissed him. Because fuck, just like with Nina and Maggie, he thought it could finally be easy, but then communicating didn't work and nothing was easy and all he had left was one fabulous kiss and vavoom and he was desperate and off script and so, so scared and then he was alone in the Bentley, driving away from the bookshop, completely alone.

Maybe Crowley should've kept pretending. It would've hurt less.