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Dulcissima I Marcus Acacius x Vestal!Reader I Chapter VII - Bona Dea
! This Fic contains major spoilers for Gladiator II ! Proceed with caution !
Spoiler-Free Summary: Set before and during Gladiator II. General Acacius finds himself entranced by a highly valued priestess of Rome – A Vestal Virgin. Both have taken vows that make sure their paths may never cross. Until they do.
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Vestal Virgin Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 18k+ Tags: Secret Relationship, Vestal Virgins, Religious Guilt, Gladiator fights, Gladiator II compliant (more or less), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Ancient Rome, Age Difference, Slow Burn (ish), Injury, Kissing, Historical Inaccuracy, (Attempted) Sexual Harassment, Smut, First Time, More tags to be added
AO3 // Series Masterlist // Masterlist // Fic Playlist
notes: ! last major spoiler warning for gladiator II below the cut !
i was supposed to upload this two days ago but silly me decided to have a mental breakdown instead. anyways, enjoy the new chapter ♡
bona dea - a goddess/her festival subligaculum - underwear
Chapter VII
The house is filled with the overpowering scent of strong wine and blooming flowers. Food and drink is being served, the atrium of the roman villa that belongs to the senior magistrate and his wife transformed into a place of worship as much as a place to celebrate.
The annual winter festival of Bona Dea, one of the most important (and as some argue, fun) nights of the year for the women of Rome. A tribute to the goddess that promises fertility along with chastity and healing, in return asking for her worshippers to hold the values of a good, roman wife. Her celebrations allow strong wine and sacrifices led by the Vestals and most importantly–ban all men from the villa and its grounds. Just laying eyes upon the holy celebration and the rites would be enough to condemn a man to a life of blindness.
It is so different from the worship you are used to from Vesta. She is quiet, a prayer whispered into the flames, the crackling noise of the wood, the only company for women who ask for safety and blessing on lonely nights.
You have barely been able to eat, despite the food seeming worthy of the gods. Bona Dea has always made you nervous, the prospect of trying to effortlessly fulfill the rituals that have been passed down from generations of women before you. But the prospect of meeting Acacius in mere hours had you trembling the moment you rose from your bed this morning. The hours seemed to tick by agonizingly slowly all day, making you wonder if the sun would ever set.
But it did. And with the early darkness of the winter night came the loss of appetite. And the later it becomes, the worse you feel. The comfortable anticipation starts mixing with an anxiety you’ve rarely felt before. Nothing can go wrong.
Of course, something goes wrong. When you reach the large front entrance of the atrium, the one you hoped to slip out of unnoticed after fulfilling your duties, is far too busy. The columns are decorated with skillfully woven vines, the entire room alight with candles and torches. A thin layer of smoke still hangs in the air from the rituals you conducted earlier, making the space feel even more sacred.
You settle on making another round, speaking some words here and there, disappearing into a crowd that has evidently already enjoyed the strong wine forbidden to them on other occasions. You catch a glimpse of Severa chatting animatedly with a few other women and duck away just in time to avoid attracting their attention.
It is already late, far later than you meant to leave. You know Acacius will be waiting. He has no rites to attend to tonight. Instead, he will be able to casually stroll out into his–
The gardens. Just like the other houses, there are spacious gardens attached to the villa you are currently trailing through. There has to be a way to slip out into that direction and get up Palatine Hill, which is rather close. Pretending to long for some fresh air, you step into the lush green, plants and trees imported from places where they do not wither in the winter. They lend themselves to your cause perfectly, barely allowing the guests inside to catch a glimpse of your white stola as you tread the small paths, the light around you becoming less and less. You slip past a few trees, fight your way through bushes–and are met with solid stone. Of course. A wall to keep out everyone who tries to sneak into the gardens. Or in your case, sneak out of them.
Your heart is pounding in your chest. Heading back inside, finding another way–it will take too long. He could be gone by then. With a small shake of your head, you step forward and let your hands run over the cold stone. The moon is hiding behind clouds, giving you essentially no light to work with. Still, you somehow manage to find two crevices to tuck your fingers into and pull yourself up. Panting slightly once you've heaved yourself up onto the stone wall, you look back for a brief moment, catching a glimpse of the lit up villa through the trees, listening to the voices and music drifting over to you.
Suddenly, it feels like you're looking down upon your whole life, like you are seeing yourself from the perspective of the gods you so worship. You try and think of something to hold you back, any excuse to just jump back into the gardens and have no one ever be the wiser about the ideas in your head. You think about the dishonor you may bring to the Vestals, to your family. To him. The punishment they would settle on. The whispers that would follow you, even after death.
You try and think of a good reason to stay. But not a thought comes to mind.
So, you jump down on the side that leads further down the path and up to the house with the lavender gardens, a path you do not wish to leave now that you’ve started walking it. Even if it leads straight down to hell.
***
Acacius sighs quietly as he gets up from the bench he sat down on what feels like hours ago. His mind is as restless as his body, his head spinning a different direction every time the wind carries the sound of what could be someone sneaking toward him through the night. The statue of Mars stands quietly next to him as he begins to pace back and forth, eventually expanding his rounds onto the stairs. Up. Down. Have you changed your mind? Back. Forth. An invisible tug of war with the thoughts racing through his head.
The small pavilion is lit by only a few candles, providing just enough light to see but not enough to shimmer too far through the trees. On Bona Dea, the whole town below is alight with the celebrations of the women. Song, Chatter and Light travelling through the night air, distractions that lay like a shroud around your meeting. A protection not unlike your veil. An indication that what lays below is not to be touched–an indication he so desperately longs to ignore.
It's not any sound that makes him turn his head. It is an instinct that he cannot name that has him turn towards the path below. And there you are. Looking almost like a ghost, dressed in a festive, white stola that swishes around your body as you hurry the last few steps, the top of your head crowned by the very veil he just saw in his mind. And he suddenly feels like he cannot wait a second longer.
Acacius meets you halfway up the stairs, his arms sliding around your waist like they belong there. Like a child resting its head in their mothers lap, like a soldier returning to his village after the war. Like the most natural homecoming, a nestling of a body against that of its lover.
“Acacius–” You whisper his name, a relief that it can finally fall from your lips again. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”
He hums quietly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your side. “I would wait all night for you, Dulcissima.” He cannot see the blush that spreads over your cheeks but he can hear it in the small breath that escapes you. “May I?”
Keeping one arm firm around your waist, he leads you up the stairs, towards Mars who stares into the distance. Unlike the stone eyes of the statue that are forced to stare at one point on the horizon for eternity, Acacius’s eyes never leave you. Even when he leans down to the small tray he brought along earlier, grabbing a glass filled with red wine and handing it to you, he keeps his focus on you. You barely get to whisper a thank you before a frown spreads over his face. “What happened to your dress?”
“I had to climb the garden wall,” you mutter sheepishly, embarrassed that your original plan has so clearly gone awry. He watches as you take a sip of the wine before you continue. “I will clean it in the morning, it is not worth speaking of.”
Acacius doesn't agree. It feels like another thing he's making you do. A visual representation of the way he is soiling you, tainting your beautiful white gown with reminiscents of the dirt and grime that stains his armour after returning from battle. “It is my turn for apologies. You should not have to–”
He is shut up by your lips coming to rest on his. He can taste the red wine he picked out for tonight and by the gods, he does not think there is anything he likes more. Picking out what you taste like for him.
There is a small tremor in your body, an insecurity that he immediately recognizes as inexperience. He sighs into the kiss at that, his taunt muscles finally relaxing as he blindly reaches behind himself, finding the stone bench and lowering both of you onto it, never breaking your kiss. Sweet. You just taste so sweet.
He allows you to dictate the pace, only pulling back when you do, your breath coming in short pants. His forehead rests against yours as he reaches down to take his own glass, nudging you until you toast him, glass against glass creating a light melody that fades as quickly as it has appeared. You both drink in silence, only the distant noises of the celebrations and those of the garden around you reaching your ears.
“May I ask you something?” He hums, his voice low in his throat as he watches you raise your wine to your lips, the flames of the candles reflecting in the glass and liquid, sending smooth shadows over your face. At your nod, he continues. “Why did you ask to meet tonight? Bona Dea must mean a lot to you.”
You smile softly, though there is still a hint of nervousness present in your eyes. “The gods are busy looking down onto the feasts.” It is the unspoken part of your response that makes Acacius feel almost light-headed. If the goddesses eyes are truly on the feasts happening in the city, they are too busy to see you under the cover of darkness. One of his hands is still supporting your waist and he uses the other to set his glass down again before coming up to caress your ankle. A sliver of skin pokes out from under your stola, giving him a taste of what is waiting below the linen and silk that you are wrapped in. He feels you lean in, a hand gently coming to rest on his shoulder for support as he maneuvers you onto his left leg. In one smooth motion, Acacius runs his calloused hand past the hem of your stola and up your calf. You shiver, shifting slightly. “Acacius–”
It's somewhere between a whisper and a begging command. He forces himself to pause, his hand resting on your knee, the fabric of your dress bunched up around his forearm. “Do you want me to stop?” You shake your head silently. And he decides that maybe, he can push a bit further. “Is this why you wanted to meet?”
He can practically see you pause, your eyes flickering nervously back and forth. He may be completely wrong. It may not even have occurred to you–this. That you could do this. Because technically, you can’t.
“Maybe,” you whisper and he smiles at the subtle hint in your tone that sounds less like a maybe and more like a yes. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't have the same train of thought. He just didn't expect you to want him like this. Hell, he barely expected you to show up. Not with how much you are both risking.
“I’m sure you know–” you whisper as his hand travels further, slowly but surely inching up your thigh. “That Vestals are sworn to celibacy.”
He gives as gentle a squeeze as he can, watching with a smirk as you bite your lip, stopping yourself from letting out a noise. God, how he wants to hear that noise. How he wants all of Rome to hear the noise, wants to hear his name fall from your lips as he gives you the pleasure you've been denied your entire life.
“There are other ways,” he muses, his thumb trailing over the edge of what he assumes to be a subligaculum covering your most private area. “Other ways of pleasure.” He cocks an eyebrow at you, his hand gently rubbing over the soft skin of your inner thigh, not quite crossing the invisible threshold yet. “Dont tell me you have not discovered any of them?”
This time, he can watch as the blush spreads over your cheeks and down toward your throat. His gaze softens slightly. “You do not have to tell me, if you do not wish to.” Acacius sighs quietly, his eyes watchful, trying to gauge if he's gone too far. If he should retreat. “Does this feel good? We do not have to–” He can feel himself stumbling over his words. “I do not wish to force myself upon you. We do not have to do anything if you are not ready.”
“What if I'm never ready?” You whisper before you can stop yourself, resting your head against his shoulder and he tuts as he looks down at you.
“Then we will never do anything.”
“Go on.” It is a whispered plea. And Acacius gently obliges. He knows how to give commands that demand to be followed. But he also knows how to take them.
His fingers sneak under the delicate cloth that forms your underwear, his index finger finding the space between your legs already deliciously wet. He can feel himself getting hard at just this. The thought that merely sitting on his lap, kissing him, feeling his hands on your leg, is enough to arouse you to this point. He swipes his thick index fingers through your folds, making you clutch onto his shoulder and whimper in surprise. A low chuckle leaves his lips as he stills his hand again, not wanting to overstimulate you right away. He is keeping that trick up his sleeve for later.
“Your body does not know of your vows, dulcissima,” he rasps, his beard scratching against your skin as he places soft kisses against your neck. He feels you shiver and while he is sure some of it can be attributed to the excitement, he has a feeling the cold is also doing its part. He has a sudden urge to pick you up and carry you inside. If you truly want him to see you, to bare yourself before him–the first man to ever touch you like this–it cannot be on a cold stone bench.
“Let me take you inside.”
(art by art by Gökberk Kaya)
notes: okay, i know, i know, bad moment to stop. i promise the next chapter is in the works! ♡
#marcus acacius#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius / reader#marcus acacius / you#marcus acacius x you#general acacius#general acacius / you#general acacius / reader#gladiator II#gladiator 2#pedro pascal fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#hurt/comfort#vestal virgins#ancient rome#softpascalito#chapter 7#dulcissima#romance#secret relationship#slow burn#kissing
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Vatican Miracle Examiner Vocab: Chapter 1
100+ vocab terms from Ch 1, Vol 1 of the 5-part manga series.
Mostly Catholic terms in Japanese and unique usage related to the series.
This list is not exhaustive. I focused on terms that would be unfamiliar (or unfamiliar as used in this series), and/or directly relate to Catholic terminology in Japanese.
I list part of speech, pronunciation, and simple definitions. I have not included additional of these if they are not relevant to this series.
Character names will have titles where applicable and those will be in brackets to minimize confusion; titles will be listed under general vocab as well.
At the end of the list I’ll have a few sources for some of the more obscure terms in case you want to read more or get better context.
As of now I have things listed in the order in which they appear, roughly, in the manga.
Note: This will be a long post since it’s the first chapter in the series and 31 pages long.
~#~
Character Names/Places
Note: I’ve chosen to spell names close to the katakana spellings; keep in mind some may be transcribed with slightly different spellings (like Joseph instead of Josef).
平賀•ヨゼフ•庚 [神父] - Hiraga, Josef Kou [Father], Franciscan order
ロベルト•ニコラス[神父] - Roberto, Nicholas [Father], Franciscan order
良太 - Ryota (Josef’s younger brother)
サウロ[大司教] - Saul [Archbishop] , Franciscan order
ニコラス[枢機卿] - Nicholas [Cardinal], secretary of the Dicastery for the Causes of the Saints (also potentially the head of the miracle examiners), also known as “the prefect (of the Curia)” in English
ドンナ•ドロレス - Donna Dolores, a nun from St Rosario Church
[大天使]ミカエル - [Archangel] Michael
[聖]ペテ - [Saint] Peter
パウロ[大司教] - [Archbishop] Paul, Dominican order
アントニウス[神父] - [Father] Antonius
セントロザリオ教会 - St Rosario Church, a church in South America where Josef & Roberto are sent to investigate
バチカソ市国 - Vatican City, the City state of the Vatican
Other Vocab
奇跡、きせき (n; の adj) miracle
常識、じょうしき (n) common sense, common knowledge, common practice
科学、かがく (n) science
説明、せつめい (n, する v; trans v) explanation, account, caption, legend, description
不可思議、ふかしぎ (な adj; n; yojijukugo) mystery, miracle, something inexplicable, unfathomable
現象、げんしょう (n) phenomenon
神、かみ (n) God, divinity
御業、みわざ (n) the works (of the gods)
真偽、しんぎ (n) veracity, authenticity
確かめる、たしかめる (Ichidan v; trans v) to ascertain, to check, to make sure
神父、しんぷ (n) Catholic priest [Note: this is the term used when speaking to someone , like “Father” So-and-So, as opposed to a general word for priest, 司祭, which you don’t use when speaking TO someone but rather about them.]
害、がい (n) evil influence
礼服、れいふく (n) cassock, vestments, etc
暗号、あんごう (n; のadj) code, cipher, password
解読、かいどく (n; するv; trans v) deciphering, decoding
聖年、せいねん (n) holy year, jubilee [see additional notes below]
大聖年、だいせいねん (n) the Great Jubilee (of 2000)
聖堂、せいどう (n) church
バチカン (n) (the) Vatican
市国、しこく (n) city state (as in the Vatican)
宗教、しゅつきょう (n) religion, faith
ブラザー(n) brother (as in, a monk or priest)
天使、てんし (n;のadj) Angel
悪魔、あくま (n) devil, demon, the Devil (Satan)
骨肉腫、こつにくしゅ (n) osteosarcoma
治療費、ちりょうひ (n) cost of medical treatment
ルルドの泉、いすみ (n) Fountain of Lourdes, aka home of “Lourdes Water” in France
奇跡調査官、きせきちょうさかん (n) miracle examiner
調査、ちょうさ (n; するv; trans v) investigation, examination
聖痕現象、スティグマータ (n) stigmata (phenomenon)
未知、みち (のadj; n) the unknown
知れる、しれる (ichidan v; intrans v) to become known; to be discovered; to be known; to be understood
舞い込む、まいこむ (godan v む ending; intrans v) to happen unexpectedly
大司教、だいしきょう (n) archbishop
キリスト (n) (Jesus) Christ
聖書、せいしょ (n) Bible, scriptures, holy writ
黙示録、もくしろく (n) book of revelation; the apocalypse
悪魔が書いた魔法書 - literally, “magic writing written by the devil” [see additional notes below]
古文書、こもんじょ (n) historical document, ancient manuscripts
断片、だんぺん (n) fragment
読む、よむ (godan v, む ending; trans v) to decipher, to read, to recite (a sutra, prayer)
原文、げんぶん (n) original text
会、かい (n; n suffix) meeting, assembly, conference, clerical order
イエズス会 (n) society of Jesus, aka Jesuit order
ドミニコ会 (n) Dominican order
フランシスコ会 (n) Franciscan order (which Josef and Roberto belong to)
派閥 (n; のadj) faction; used in the manga as in orders of priests
破門、はもん (n; するv; のadj) excommunication
枢機卿、すうききょう (n) Cardinal (title)
執行部、しっこうぶ (n) leadership (for example, the Roman Curia, that is the administration of the Vatican)
列聖、れっせい (n; するv) canonization (of a Saint)
列聖省長官、れっせいしょうちょうかん (n) literally, “canonization ministry secretary”; I believe this is intended to refer to the Secretary/Director of the Dicastery of the Causes of Saints; a position in the Vatican overseeing things related to canonization [see additional notes]
祈り、いのり (n) prayer
申請書、しんせいしょ(n) Written application
申請、 しんせい (n; する v; trans v) application, petition, request
教会、しょうかい (n) church, congregation
修道女、しゅうどうじょ (n) nun
大天使、だいてんし (n) archangel
神の子、かみのこ (n) son of God (Jesus Christ); child of God (Christian)
処女懐胎、しょじょかいたい (n) virgin birth, such as Mary with Jesus (immaculate conception)
受胎、じゅたい (n; するv; intrans v) conception
聖母、せいぼ (n) Virgin Mary; holy mother
カソリック (n) Catholic, Catholicism, Catholic Church [note there are a couple diff katakana spellings of this word, but this one is used in VME]
受肉、じゅにく(n) (Christ’s) incarnation (as Jesus of Nazareth)
降臨、こうりん (n; するv) descent to earth (of a god); advent; epiphany
罪、つみ (n; なadj; のadj) sin
永遠、えいえん (n; なadj) eternity; immortality
贖う、あがなう (godan v, う ending; trans v) to atone for
最後の審判、さいごのしんぱん (n) judgment day; final judgment (religious sense)
聖、せい (n) Saint (may also be written with katakana, as in 「セント」, like “St Rosario’s Church”
ローム (n) Rome
司教、しきょう (n) bishop (catholic)
代理人、だいりにん (n) proxy, representative
存在意義、ぞんざいいぎ (n) raison d'être, reason for existing
冒涜、ぼうとく (n; するv) blasphemy, sacrilege, desecration
主、しゅ (n) the Lord (God)
カルト (n) cult
教徒、しょうと (n) believer, adherent
法王、ほうおう (n) Pope; aka ローム法王
司祭、しさい (n; のadj) a priest [do not confuse with 神父, the title of “Father”]
大罪、たいざい、(n) mortal sin, grave sin
契約、けいやく (n; するv; trans v) covenant, contract, pact [as in a deal with the devil]
最高責任者、さいこうせきにんしゃ (n) chief executive [such as, of the Vatican Bank]
教皇庁、きょうこうちょう(n) the Curia, the administration of the Vatican
地位、ちい (n) position, such as within the Vatican hierarchy, or in line to be a papal candidate
潜り込む、 もぐりこみ (Godan v, む ending; intrans v) to go undercover, to infiltrate
マリア (n) (the Virgin) Mary [sometimes seen as 聖母マリア]
聖母子 (n) Virgin and Child, Mary & Baby Jesus
全知全能、ぜんちぜんのう (n; のadj; yojijukugo) omnipotence and omniscient, all powerful and all knowing
救世主、きゅうせいしゅ (n) savior, the messiah, Jesus Christ (the messiah, savior)
背徳、はいとく (n) immorality, corruption, lapse of virtue
堕落、だらく (n; するv) depravity, degradation, corruption
偶像、ぐうぞう (n) idol, image, statue
天罰、てんぼつ (n) divine punishment, wrath of God, judgment of heaven
主よ、しゅよ (なadj; n) Lord, head (of a group)
信仰、しんこう (n;するv; trans v) (religious) faith, belief
印、しるし (n) a sign
聖所、せいじゅ (n) sanctuary, inner sanctum
邪悪、じゃあく (なadj;n) wicked, evil
~#~
Additional Notes
Holy year, 聖年 ; Great Jubilee, 大聖年
“Devil’s book,” 悪魔が書いた魔法書
I did a lot of searching trying to figure out what book, specifically, was meant here, and came up with 2 possibilities:
the Gigas Codex, ギガス写本 or 悪魔の聖書, a book that is not held by the Vatican but was supposedly written with magical assistance from Satan himself;
the Grand Grimoire, 大奥義書 or 大いなる教書, not written by Satan but that is held by the Vatican.
It’s possibly intended to be vague, but the exact phrasing here is different than used for either of these actual books and I couldn’t find any other possible real option. Note the anime does call a book “the devil’s book” and describe it as a “Bible written by the devil” but it doesn’t seem to really be a reference to Gigas, so maybe it’s intended to be a fictional book inspired by these real texts for the purposes of the story.
Secretary of Dicastery of the Causes of Saints - 列聖省長官
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dicastery_for_the_Causes_of_Saints
~#~
As always, I’m human and make mistakes. If you find anything feel free to let me know.
#vatican miracle examiner#bachikan kiseki chousakan#japanese langblr#japanese vocab#バチカン奇跡調査官#日野杏寿#hindou anju#english translation#poi translation#langblr#decided not to put this behind a paywall after all#still undecided on the translation itself#or may do first one free and later chapters
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WHY CHAPTER 431 OF MY HERO ACADEMIA SCREAMS CENSORSHIP
First let's start by the "afterword", the note Horikoshi left after 430 and before the extras, chapter 431.
Original japanese for those who understand.
The best traslation I found and most people are agreeing with.
Key sentences are:
1.The real final chapter is 429, 430 is more like a curtain call.
2. PS: For chapter 431, I turn off the cameras and free the characters from their dramas.
This note being left after 430 and before the extras is so important. . The clarification of "the real final chapter is 429" and 430 is the curtain call is screaming: the show has ended here. This is further stated by "i turn the cameras off" by the man who use to refer himself as the camera man, I leave you with an example.
(They're talking about Vol 37 cover)
And back to point number 2: "and free the characters from their dramas", which could perfectly be understood as "the characters are no longer tied to their previous plots and drama" no longer connected to the main story.
It may seem like a reach until here, we're just trying to convince ourselves that's not canon, right? They´re delusions, right?
The problem is how far away everything about 431 antagonizes the whole story, the characters doesn't feel like themselves, they even regress back all their development, the drawing style looks totally different and there are many irregularities that call for our attention.
Dabi, 431 and by Horikoshi
Toga and Ochaco in 431:
Toga and Ochaco by Horikoshi:
All Might's signature for Katsuki (Horikoshi would never mess this up):
Kirishima with 6 fingers lol, Horikoshi loves drawing hands, he would never.
Katsuki's odd teeth what the fuck. (His hand looks good to me)
Ochaco and Shoto just look, weird. It's clearly not Horikoshi's art style.
And this awful background (center) was the main giveaway.
Horikoshi's backgrounds are so professional:
At this point I'm getting tired since the difference is astounding, don't believe me, just check the manga.
I don't think Horikoshi would've allowed those mistakes had he have a role in the making, maybe he did, there's no saying about that, but clearly if he did his involvement was very low.
Character's development wise now.
Seriously? "Deku"? And Katsuki complaining for picking him up. He cried his eyes out when Izuku lost his quirk and now he's back at season 1?
Izuku would never in a million years turn down that offer. And if he did, it would never be like this, so devoid of emotion and empathy.
430 showed us an Izuku aiming for his dreams again and at 431 this Izuku ¿? It's okay with being a teacher? Ok. And if that's not the problem, why he outright rejects Katsuki out of nowhere? When their rivalry was one of the main points of the plots for 430 chapters and now just um over? Without justification? Ok.
Ok.
Now specifically about that ship canonization and bkdk.
Horikoshi has been doing this for 10 years. The choices he took the whole manga were incredibly intentional, all those romantic tropes given to bkdk, his interviews, all stand in direct opposition to what happened in this last chapter.
I, myself, don't know much about Jump but what I've heard is they end lot of shonens with the same heterosexual formula. I don't think all of this is a coincidence.
Something really important that needs to be adressed to is what happened back in June (I think), when suddenly MHA announced it was ending in 5 chapters could've something to do with this. The manga was suddenly rushed to its ends with unsatisfying resolutions and as if that was not enough, one month later (at most) the same happened to JJK and all of this came accompanied by a switch of one of the heads of Jump.
About 431 again though.
I was just thinking what would I do if I was pressured to write something that ruins the biggest project of my life and goes against everything I was hoping for? Refuse. Tell them to write it themselves. If I can't do anything to stop it and it'll be there, alright, but I WON'T DO IT.
And I think this could be Horikoshi's case.
I've never seen a shonen manga come so close to implying his male protagonist and his male deuteragonist are in love before. Yes, it was not EXPLICIT but it was so fucking clear if you knew how to read, all the way up to 430. All those cliches tropes he gave them, he knew, we know.
I thought I'll die trying to explaineverything that seems wrong with this with nothing to back me up but the fact that he added that note is clear for me. I'm surprised they allowed him to publish it, I thought we wouldn't even have that.
PS:
It's interesting this being posted the same day 431 comes out. Also "heroaca is pretty dark, huh?"
I'll not go into this anyways because it's kind of a reach but the conclusion is: I think it's a "soft" censorship and Horikoshi did his best to relay his message given what he had.
Thanks for reading!
#bnha#deku#izuku midoriya#mha#mha 430#bakudeku#katsudeku#bkdk#mha 431#mha extras#bakugou kastuki#bakugou#kacchan#katsuki#dkbk
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Training for Two
Chapter 7. Motivated, Sir!
Masterlist
Summary: You struggle to keep up with your freelance work - Soap has the wonderful idea of bringing you and Riley to base.
Warnings: cursing, yeah.
Sure enough, Simon had requested your services about three days after you’d run into him in the café.
He had sent you an email the Tuesday following your run in. It was the same as before – short and to the point. leaving thursday at 0900. riley will need her meds at 1300. i’ll be on base for a few days for trainig, won’t be far. call if you need anything.
You showed up no later than twelve-thirty, your backpack hanging off one shoulder and a fresh bag of peanut-butter-bacon cookies in your free hand. You cooed and smiled at Riley as she all but attacked you as you entered through the front door. She seemed to have grown to miss you, which had your heart swelling with pride. People pleaser and a puppy pleaser, it seems.
After a dose of her medicine and a much-needed walk through one of the nearby parks, you crashed on Simon’s couch to do some freelance work. With your feet kicked up onto the coffee table (politely, with your socks on and your shoes by the front door), you tapped and clicked away at your laptop, fiddling with the edge of your sweatshirt as you concentrated.
You may have bitten off more than you could chew, as much as you hated to admit it. Prancing your skill online – boosting social media posts that boasted about your expertise in logo design and marketing had brought in more customers than you anticipated. Recognition was exciting, and you had taken on four clients at once; something you were currently and mentally kicking yourself for. The burnout had settled in quickly after you finished the first portfolio of logo samples, and you wanted nothing more than to take a nap with Riley as your blanket.
You sighed, sinking further into the couch cushions and running your hands over your face. You were dangerously low on motivation.
A few moments later, you were holding your phone, listening to each ring as you chewed on the edge of your sleeve. A bad habit, one that your mother had tried to break you of in your teenage years, but you stubbornly kept to it.
Soon, the phone picked up with a click. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi Tyler…” you said with a relived exhale. “You busy?”
“Eh-“ he grunted; you heard the sound of tinkering in the background, and the voice of the secretary at his main office. “I’ve got a moment. Everything alright?”
You sighed. “Yeah… nothing’s wrong, I’m just stuck.”
“How so?”
“Well” – you sat upright, crossing your feet under you and putting your laptop to the side – “I’ve finished the one project, and now I-“
“Which project?” Tyler interjected. You heard beeping, followed by one of his coworkers asking for a wire stripper.
“The logo design for that new attorney’s office off of main and thirty-fourth.”
“Oh! Yeah yeah, I remember.”
You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I finished that one. I have three other projects now, and one is due by the-“
“Three?! I thought you just had the one!”
A sigh escaped your lips. “I did, and then more clients flooded in, I just got ahead of myself-“
“Sweetheart- here, Max, hold this for a second- you got too much on your plate. You’ve already been house-sitting for that one guy, Sam-“
“-Simon.”
“Right, yeah. But, doll, maybe you need a break. Can you tell him that you need him to find someone else for now?”
You faltered. “You’re saying quit the house-sitting gig?”
“Not quit, I know Riley likes you – but maybe just have him get another guy to finish the week.”
“I can’t do that!” you said, a bit taken aback that Tyler of all people, Mr. Work-Till-You-Drop himself, would suggest that you let go of a project. “He can’t exactly find a different sitter right now, he’s not going to be home.”
“Alright, alright- what about dropping one of the logo gigs?”
“That would look bad for my business.”
“Well, babe-“ you heard someone call for him in the background of the call. “-give me a sec, Ron, it’s important- I don’t know what to tell you. You bit off more than you can chew, it sounds like.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach; why am I bothering him? He’s working, and this isn’t something he can exactly help with. “Yeah- I’m sorry. I’m just- I dunno. I need something to motivate me.”
“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Tyler sighed; you could hear the pinch in his brow. “I’m not trying to be short with you, I… eh, I guess this wasn’t the best time, hmm? Tell you what: when Sam comes back-“
“Simon.” You said with a chuckle.
“Shit, sorry- when Simon gets back, and you’re back home, let’s have a day in, yeah? You pick a movie, I’ll get the takeaway, and have a look at your portfolio. Sound good?”
You smiled, the knot in your stomach easing up a bit. “Yeah, sounds like paradise.”
“Good.” Tyler said, and you could hear the smile in his tone. “I’ll make sure it is. Let your mind rest a bit, alright? And give Riley a kiss for me.”
“What, I don’t get one?”
“Yours are automatic!”
“Leavin’ me for a dog, are you?”
“I wouldn’t leave you for Aphrodite.”
You smiled. “I love you. But go back to work! I don’t want Ron to hate me.”
Tyler chuckled, the sound sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Alright. Love you too.”
You ended the call, tossing the phone onto the cushion next to you. Why did I call him? He was at work – I knew that. He doesn’t even know anything about design. I could have texted him – or I could have just left him alone. Why would I even bother him with this? How could he have helped?
You groaned, closing your laptop and moving it to the coffee table. Looking across the room, you saw that Riley was no longer in her bed, her blanket partially spilling onto the floor next to it. She whined; you turned your head to find her sitting at the door. She met your gaze, licking her lips and tapping her feet anxiously on the floor.
“Do you need to go out?”
She whined again, impatient.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” you huffed, standing on your feet and stretching your limbs. She trotted over to you with a groan, then back to the door.
You followed her there, slipping on your shoes. You reached into the closet and grabbed her leash, leaning down to clip it onto her collar. She grunted and jerked her head back, taking a few steps away from you.
Confusion settled on your face. “C’mon girl, don’tcha want to go for a walk?”
She let out a few voofs, raising a paw and stomping it indignantly. You tried again, reaching out with the clip of the leash, but she darted away once more. She stood by the closet and barked shrilly, still staring at you.
This lasted for a few more minutes; you’d stand there, taking every woo and wuff that she threw at you. After a few moments of the following silence, you’d take a step towards her, holding up the leash with a cocked brow, and she’d huff and turn in a circle.
“I’m sorry I don’t speak awoowoo.” You said in frustration, putting your hands on your hips. “spreek je Nederlands?”
She huffed dramatically, lying down and resting her nose on her front paws. You sighed yourself and headed back towards the couch – she yipped, whining at you through her nose.
“What?” you asked, throwing your hands up. “I don’t know what you want!”
She barked back at you. Helpful.
You groaned. This wasn’t getting you anywhere. You went back to the couch and grabbed your phone, flopping stomach-first onto the cushions. Riley trotted over to your side and whined, sitting politely on the rug.
With a few clicks, Simon’s contact appeared on your phone; well, it was Riley’s face, her snout taking up most of the camera and her ears tucked back against her head as she had sniffed the lens in the moment. You chewed your lip. It’s not an emergency… but maybe he forgot to tell me about part of her routine? She hadn’t acted this upset the last time you were here… and she had certainly never indicated no when you got ready to take her outside.
You pressed the call button, putting your phone on speaker. Not half a ring had passed before Simon answered.
“Wha’s wrong? ‘S Riley ok?”
“N- hi, Simon – yeah, Riley’s ok. She-“
“Are you ok?”
You chuckled. “Yes, I’m fine. This isn’t an emergency.”
You heard him sigh, and quickly tried to deescalate the situation. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you-“
“Don’t apologize,” he said, “ya did nothin’ wrong. I know you wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
You laughed again. “Well, I don’t really know if it is or isn’t – I’m trying to take Riley out for a stroll, and she won’t go,”
“No?”
“No. I try to put her leash on and she runs away. She’s yapping at me though, like she’s got something to say.” You looked at her, reaching a finger to boop her nose.
You heard the faint sound of gunshots in the background of the call. You had half a mind to ask if he was in battle- war- whatever they called it- at the moment, until you remembered that he said he was training this week. “Ya sure she needs t’ go out?”
“She’s acting like she does.” You said, rolling onto your side.
He grunted. “Pain flarin’ up?”
“She’s not limping.”
“Biscuit?”
“She’s had her first daily.”
He sighed. “Beats me. I’d think she was-“
“Oi! LT!”
You listened closely, suddenly drawn to the commotion beyond the speaker. “Simon?”
“One sec, luv-“ he said quickly. “I’m busy, Soap-“
“Cap needs ye back oan th’ feld. One o’ the Jimmies hud o’ nice fall.”
“Fuckin’ wot?”
“One o’ the rookies collapsed.” Soap was now closer to the phone; close enough that you could hear he was out of breath. “Cap wants ye out there.”
“Tell him I’m busy.”
“Tell ‘im yer feckin’ self, ye dry piece o’ shite-“
Riley suddenly barked, making you jolt. She stood with her paws on the edge of the couch and staring at the phone.
“Awe, tha’ mah girl?” Soap said from the other line. “Mah Bonnie, yea? She miss me?”
“’M on the fuckin’ phone, Johnny.”
“Ah know, I’m talkin’ to the pup.”
You thought for a moment, as Simon and Soap bickered in the background. Maybe, Riley misses Simon’s coworkers? She used to work with them… judging on her reaction – panting and ears perked up as she listened to the conversation – you’d guess you were right.
“Hey, uh… Simon?”
‘- hm?” Simon halted his bickering with Soap at the sound of your voice.
“Does she maybe want to see your- team? Or Soap, at the very least?”
“Aye, she does.” Soap chimed in, making Riley whine. “Ya hear tha’? She misses ‘er ol’ uncle Johnny.”
“Bugger off, mate.” Simon grumbled.
You suddenly felt like you made a mistake even voicing your thoughts. “Sorry if it’s not a good idea, I just heard how she reacted to Soap’s voice, and, y’know – how she used to work with you all…” you chuckled at yourself. “Now that I think about it, I probably couldn’t even get on base, could I?”
“It would-“
“None o’ that keech!” Soap said, cutting off Simon for the umpteenth time. “Ghost, ye can tell the gate guards you’ll be expectin’ er. Or cap, he’ll vouch for ‘er. Want tae see my girl.”
You felt a bout of excitement roll through your veins. “I think that would be great! And I’d get to meet you all finally. I should know who Simon travels the world with, right?”
There was a moment of silence over the phone, save for the distant gunfire and the cadence of orders being called out. You wondered if you had said something wrong; ‘travel the world…’ it’s deployment, not a vacation. Why did I say that?
“Don’t see why not.” Simon finally said, and you sighed quietly.
“You sure?” you confirmed.
“It’s jus’ what the pup needs.” Soap said. “Probably misses ‘er other friends, too-“
“Jus’ head towards the naval base, n’ I’ll send you the address to the gate.” Simon said with a huff. “Tell them you’re here for Ghost.”
“Ghost…” you repeated.
“’S my callsign. Oh, and, uh- put ‘er harness on. She wears that to base, probably why she won’t take jus’ the leash.”
You smiled, heart fluttering a bit at the information. “Great! I’ll see you soon!”
“Drive safe.”
You bit your lip as the call ended, that warmth still bubbling within your chest. A thousand, fleeting questions circled within your head as you rolled onto your side, clutching your phone to your chest. Does he call everyone luv? What gave him the callsign “Ghost”? I wonder what his team is like… I wonder what Johnny- Soap?- is like. I wonder if they’re all as attractive as-
Riley barked; you yelped, body tensing as you were torn from your thoughts. She pawed at you, still standing on her two hind legs and yowling lowly in your direction.
“Alright, alright- let’s go!” you rolled off the couch, equally as excited as she was. She happily obliged to sit next to you when you grabbed the harness from the closet, slipping it over her head and latching the leash to its back. She then eagerly trotted to the door, tapping her feet anxiously and whining.
You stuffed your feet into your shoes (you hoped that a sweatshirt, leggings, and rain boots would be appropriate for bringing your client’s dog on a military base). You stepped out into the overcast day, locking Simon’s door behind you and shoving the key into your bra; excitement boiled underneath your veins as the two of you headed over to your car, right as your phone buzzed with Simon’s text.
Simon watched as your contact photo faded from the screen. His eyes hardened as he turned to Johnny – the bloke had a cheeky grin on his face, staring right back at his lieutenant. Simon wanted to grab him by his mohawk and swing him into the wall like a discus.
“Wha’?” Soap said innocently, shoulders shrugging with irreproachability. “I miss ‘er.”
“Ya don’t have nothin’ to miss, you wanker.” Simon snarled, stuffing his phone into his back pocket. “You’ve never met ‘er.”
“The dog, ya git.” Soap sighed. His eyes narrowed in amused suspicion. “Yer awfully protective o’ the lass, don’t ye think?”
Oh, Simon could have launched the Scot into next week. He knew what he was doing, the bastard. He knew Johnny was either going to try and pair you with himself, sweep you off your feet and charm you with his stupid blue eyes and bright smile – or, he was going to pitch you with his lieutenant. Simon didn’t like not knowing how to prepare himself: to either cockblock you and Johnny, or to refuse any advances Johnny made to him on your behalf.
Soap huffed, not intimidated in the slightest by Ghost’s dissociative, angry stare. “Calm doon, LT.” he said, shoving his shoulder with two, sturdy fingers. “She’s got a lad, aye? I jus’ want tae see Riley. I’ll leave your precious house-sitter alone.” He held a hand up and crossed a finger over his chest. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never in Boy Scouts.” Ghost grumbled.
“Does it make a difference?” Soap said with a quirked eyebrow.
Simon sighed, leaving Soap on the training field to find Price. He had to let him know you’d be coming to base, or you’d be stopped at the gate and turned away – or worse, dragged off by the military police. It would be a surefire way of keeping you away from Soap, but it was also rather unhospitable. Riley wouldn’t be too impressed, either.
Still, Johnny had a point. Why was he fretting? You weren’t his.
“Jus’ keep an eye on the recruits. Be back in a moment.” He said over his shoulder.
“Aye, LT.” Soap responded: Simon could hear the grin on his face.
Smug bastard.
Next ->
Taglist (trying this again): @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon
#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost x you#ghost cod#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#ghost call of duty#simon riley cod#call of duty#cod#cod x reader
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POISON
content: Yandere Platonic Batfamily x Neglected Reader
sinopse — you were neglected from a young age, you could no longer take all this neglect and the looks they gave you, as if you were an insect next to them, your option was to run away, and so you did, but on the way, you meet a certain clown, one who charts your path, you might think that's how it ends, but you're very wrong, you can't defy your family, and look who came to haunt you, I mean, look who came to take you home.
Warning: mentions of violence, murder, mentions of torture, violence, mentions of drugs, Reader is a girl, manipulation, violence against minors, torture, Cigarette use, negligence, joker being the joker, Yandere behavior, defined gender, blood.
chapters: 02
A/N: Firstly, you can call me Shin or Lay, feel free, sorry for the defined gender, I feel more comfortable writing for the female gender, but don't worry, I will write for other genders too, I'm just trying to feel comfortable first, I ask you to be patient with me, I can't be very active, I have a life to prioritize, health first, English is not my first language, Portuguese is, I'm using the translator, so if there is an error you already know Who to blame, I'm writing because I like writing, so don't rush me, sorry if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes, drink water and take care of yourselves, Take care little lamb...
Enjoy it while you can...
You can't run away forever little bird...
eyes were glued to the tomb in front, the tombstone well cared for and clean, a sigh came out of the little girl's mouth, more tears filled her eyes, even though she had this stoic expression, it didn't stop her from crying, until the stronger ones cry...
A hand was placed on the little girl's shoulder and she looked at the person, the middle aged man looked at her with pity, she had lost her mother so early, poor girl, at such a young age, already lost someone, the man smiled softly and nodded towards the car
The girl always had the curiosity of meeting her father, of course, her mother always said that he was a rich playboy who wouldn't have time for her, but even so, as harsh as those words sounded, the little girl knew that this was a lesson, a fact, and it seems that her mother was right, as always...
Bruce considers himself to be at least a somewhat decent person
I mean, he may not be what people call perfect, but he tries to be decent, behind that expression, there is someone who was much happier before...
Well, when a little girl arrived at Wayne Manor, he tried to do what he could to calm down first, yes, it's not the first time he's had a child, but this time is different, this little girl, is his, she contains the same blood, she is not adopted, she is really his daughter
He tried at first, but then why didn't he try later?
Because he let her slip out of his hands
He should have been there for her
He wanted to have been there for her, but the city needed him
But she also needs it, you know?...
Once again being ignored in this mansion, the dark halls that haunt you, stopping when you saw your older brother, Dick, he looked at you and just walked past you as if you didn't exist, you felt another piece of your heart break, with a sigh you walked again
Once again heading to the dark halls of the mansion
You were playing with dolls in your room, and looked at the door when you heard footsteps, your brother, Jason, walked by irritably, once again, it was always like this
You just went back to playing alone, with yourself and your silence...
It's like they say, silence is a person's best friend...
Footsteps are heard as a little girl walks through the halls once again, heading to the kitchen while looking for Alfred, she clutched the Batman plush and stopped in a room, she was going to knock on the door, but someone had already opened the door.
The little girl looked at her brother, Tim, and tried to speak, but he simply closed the bedroom door, leaving her standing in front of the door while looking at the wooden door in front of her.
With a sigh she turned and went back to looking for Alfred.
The little girl was helping Alfred and lost the Batman plush, while looking, the girl saw two girls talking and laughing, they were her sisters, Barbara and Cassandra, she likes to call them Barb and Cass, but when she went to talk to them girls, they just walked past her, Cass was kind enough to pet her head, but still, they completely ignored her existence
Again...
You were next to Damien as you clung to his jacket in the morning, a boy decided that you were the best option to bully, but Damien didn't like it very much and now the boy was on the floor bleeding, his nose was definitely broken. , he was crying in pain while Damien was looking on with disgust and disdain
You..., well you were scared, you hate seeing people bleeding, it makes you sick, you just wanted your stuffed animal back...
Startled when Damien finally looked at you with that serious expression, you quickly released the sleeve of his jacket and looked into his eyes
_ "you are weak, you will never be a Wayne, that must be why your mother died, because you weren't strong enough to save her, you can't even protect yourself alone, who guarantees that you can protect someone, I'm the most new, and I still know more than you, for once, be useful and grow "
You froze, as if time was standing still, with your eyes wide in surprise, you looked at the ground and nodded slowly as you closed your eyes to keep the tears away, it hurt, it hurt a lot, it hurt more than the scars you have from that day, the day your mother died, the day you were sent to a dark place...
Damien just walked past you and stopped in the hallway, leaving you alone, with just your tears...
You were in your room crying, tears rolled down your cheeks, holding onto the only thing you had, your Batman plush, you wanted Batman to save you just like he saves Ghotam...
You were too distracted to notice that someone entered your room, footsteps came closer to you and you felt arms around you, with a start you looked at the person, only to see Alfred
Without saying anything you allowed yourself to cry more as you clung to him.
Alfred caressed your back gently as he sighed softly, he just wishes someone in this mansion could see how brilliant you are, how amazing you are, if only there was something he could do...
LOOKING at the Tombstone, everything was silent, the silence was deafening
Yes, you ran away, and I'm not saying it in a metaphor, I'm saying you actually ran away from the mansion, well, I wouldn't consider running away, because I'm pretty sure walking out the front door and no one stops you isn't considered running away, but which is a consideration for those who have never had one...
Now here you were, in front of your late mother's tombstone, the only one who taught you and gave you affection when you needed her most, no one can replace your mother, no one at all, you would get blood on your own hands if necessary, for She, you destroy the world...
Walking through the dark streets of Gotham was you, as you held your Batman plush close, you couldn't stop feeling that feeling of someone following you, well you were right but the worst part is being right about wrong feelings...
That's why you looked back, and didn't see anyone, but when you looked ahead, your heart felt like it was going to leave you, trying to calm your breathing you dared to look at his face, the smile that doesn't fool anyone, the clothes, the hair...
You weren't mistaken
You wish you were mistaken
But this was really him...
With an amused smile in front of him was none other than someone with his own macabre thoughts...
_ "Well, well, if we don't have a little clown, alone... I don't need to introduce myself, you must know me, but I have education and I'm going to introduce myself anyway, I'm the... Joker...
Batman will like the little gift, well, if he can have his little friends, I can also have a little clown with me, don't you agree?, of course you agree, come on, little clown, let's introduce you to Gotham City..."
You looked at the man in front of you with fear, your brain was screaming at you to run, but your legs seemed glued to the ground, frozen, paralyzed...
panic settled in your body when you felt arms lifting you, you tried to fight, you tried to make him let go of you, but you shivered when you felt something come into contact with your skin, of course you knew how to put one and one together, you grew with your Mom, so you obviously know that he injected something into you, injected something into your neck...
You felt tired and stopped fighting, your eyelids slowly closed as you tried to keep them open, but it wasn't enough and you fell into a deep sleep, a dreamless sleep...
A broken heart will never be broken again if the pieces are already too small, but who said you can't step on the pieces...
BRUCE felt something was wrong, a bad feeling, he double checked his kids and found every one of them, but the more he looked, the more he felt something was wrong, so he went to look at the cameras in the batcave, wrong move ...
Looking at the cameras, he finally figured out what was wrong, his daughter, his little daughter came out, she ran away, he felt panic rising inside him, and he heard a noise behind him, and when he looked he saw Jason looking at the recording of the video. security camera with a death glare, before Bruce nodded as Jason quickly turned and went to warn the others...
That's why now they were all in the Batcave, looking at the security cameras, Tim blamed himself for not being able to stop this, he made so many plans, because he can't make a plan in case this happened, now she was lost, in the darkness of Gotham City, a dark place...
But they will find you, no matter what it takes
They will burn down Gotham if necessary
It looks like it won't rain water from the sky, but rather blood...
A/N: hello little lamb, I hope you liked it, it wasn't my idea, I was inspired by an account that had this great idea, sorry for any grammar or spelling errors, and sorry again for the defined gender, remember to take care of yourself, little one little lamb, bye bye, take care...
Signed: 𝙇𝙖𝙮...
Autor : @trashpanda0000 @dhanyasri @marsmabe @caged-birdies-blog @vanessa-boo
#yandere platonic#yandere batfam#yandere platonic batfamily x reader#yandere x reader#Platonic Jogar x Child Reader#dc universe#yandere batman#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere cassandra cain#yandere stephanie brown#yandere dick grayson#yandere damian wayne#platonic relationships#child reader#neglect#Neglected Child Reader#platonic love
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Chaos in Their Bones
Ongoing Series
Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Genre: friends to lovers, frienemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut
Words: 5k+
A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to do this, so naturally I did it anyway. This is the first chapter in a planned series with a reader insert following the events of the OPLA universe. I sincerely hope that this is a story you all love as this is my first initial time writing for one of my beloved anime. But let’s be real, after seeing Mackenyu play Zoro (my fav) I knew I was going to be whipped from the start. The reader will go by “Doc” in this story at times, and later a nickname by Zoro himself. As always, I hope you enjoy this. Much love, Jenn. Also, thank you @thegreatesttttttttt for indulging me.
Next
The ringing of the bell thundered through the sky above. An upcoming warning of four words that would echo through the street's moments later.
“The pirates are coming!”
You could practically hear the rest of the town groan with a sigh. Their annoyance stunk up the streets as Usopp sounded the imaginary alarm as he usually did every day around this time. Maybe it was because you considered Usopp a friend that his tall tales and wild imagination didn’t bother you.
Instead, a sly smile tilted your lips as you continued to grind the seeds deep into the mortar. Mr. Edison’s gruff voice from outside your window reminded Usopp for the millionth time that he needed to stop as he sprinted past.
“What is that boy going on about?” Naan huffed.
You sent a quick glance behind your shoulder at the older woman who was currently folding the recently washed linens. All of them are used with a purpose to either staunch bloody wounds or for the simple purpose of relieving colds. Naan’s linens, like her home, were used for a multitude of healing services, with the only payment she accepted was that of the kindness of others around her.
“You already know, Naan,” you replied, your smile evident in your words. “It’s the usual afternoon reminder to stay on your toes.”
A deep chuckle came from behind you followed by the soft cough that came after.
“These toes can’t do very much standing. So, maybe tell your friend to give me a day of rest soon.”
“Usopp has done this every day for seven years. I don’t think anything anyone will ever say will make him stop.”
Even if you could get Usopp to stop, you wouldn’t be the one to make him. You weren’t sure how many people in town knew who his father was - or that he’d been a pirate. A father by suggestion, Usopp’s wild imagination could only recall small things from the stories his mother had been willing to share, and from those stories, even greater ones grew.
While everyone else may have found Usopp’s stories as an ever-present headache you knew they held a deeper meaning. They were the only thing he knew of a man he never got to know.
The sound of chair legs creaking across the floor cut you out of your thoughts. Just in time from the looks of the seed putty you’d created. A heavy thud on the boards informed you Naan grabbed her cane and the heavier shuffling of her feet that she was heading in your direction.
“What are you so intently making over here, child?”
Settling down the pestle, you reached over your workstation to grab a pot. You were going to need to fetch some water to bring everything to a bowl before you strained it into a jar.
“Water. I need to go get some water,” you murmured as you brought the pot down in front of you.
“Am I talking to myself?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Naan. Did you say something?”
This time you did dare to look at her. Her deep-set wrinkles set impossibly deeper as she regarded your work from over your shoulder.
“Oh, I only asked what you were making that was stinking up my kitchen.”
Your eyes flew open wide as you took a deep breath in. You were sure the only thing you’d put in that maybe - maybe - smelled was the slippery elm, but you hadn’t even steeped it in the water yet. Naan must have read your panic before it began to stitch your brow together. Your eyes still helplessly peeled to the job in front of you instead of the chuckling woman behind you.
“It’s fine, child. I’m just teasing you.”
All your panic rushed out in a huff of air as your body finally turned to greet her. Your eyes instantly took in the very tired look of hers.
“You should get some rest, Naan.”
The two of you knew you meant well. You would never try and make Naan feel older than she already felt, except you didn’t give a damn about her feelings when you could easily spot the sweat on her upper lip. The way her body leaned more into the cane that supported her. She batted your concern away with a swat of her free hand. As if it would be enough to make whatever fear that gripped at your heart magically disappear.
“Don’t patronize me. I’m fine.”
“You are not fine. You're wheezing with every breath now-“
“I said I’m fine. Leave me alone and start worrying about whatever it is you’re making.”
“Well, if you would stop interrupting me, maybe I could finish it!”
The irritation in your voice wasn’t hard to miss. Naan heard it too no doubt with the way her brow cocked as if begging you to repeat it.
The silence stretched uncomfortably between you. Naan wouldn’t even look at you - probably too scared to see your eyes pleading, full of worry for her to just go lay down.
Why must you always be so stubborn?
The question sat on your tongue and made your words form like molasses. You weren’t a child anymore. So, it begged the question of why you were still afraid to speak to her like an adult. It didn’t matter if what you said hurt her old feelings. Not when the thought of her not being around made your chest begin to spread wide like an aching chasm.
“You never did say what you were making.”
You pressed your tongue against your cheek while you debated if it would be worth it to try and argue with her. Of course, you were always the first one to relent and push it under the metaphorical rug.
“It’s a gift for Miss Kaya. Usopp told me her cough hadn’t changed and asked if I would make something for her.”
“Hmm,” Naan hummed in thought. “That boy is strange, but he is kind.”
“Not as strange as Kaya having an unknown illness the last few years and never seeking any aid from the town's doctor,” you grumbled.
Naan’s hand lightly clasped your shoulder in comfort - comfort you didn’t want to accept. Not only were thoughts of Naan being sick plaguing every ounce of free space in your brain but now so was Kaya. You’d only met her once when you were younger with Usopp and after her parents died that odd butler, Klahadore, kept her under strict observation.
In all the years you’d been with Naan, learning everything she could teach about healing, you’d found it odd that the staff never came to ask for help. You couldn’t recall a time when Sham or Buchi ever came down requesting any tonics or medicines from Naan, or for her to come with them to examine Kaya in the first place.
I wasn’t aware they were waitstaff and doctors.
You knew these thoughts would only dampen your mood until it turned completely sour. You just couldn’t stop the runaway train that was your thoughts from slipping back into questioning everything with the universe never giving you any new answers.
“How many times have I told you, child, we can’t make people get help. They have to seek it themselves and that- that is when the real healing begins.”
You were already bitter and that bitterness responded to Naan’s words in the form of an eye roll. One you were lucky the older woman didn’t see.
“It’s just not right.”
“Right or not, it’s not our place to go butting in.”
She stood behind you for a few more minutes waiting for a reply you didn’t give. You were done talking. Done trying to get her to understand that she was sick too and that all those years of molding words and actions to help others were what drove you to help her. To help Kaya. Only Usopp seemed to notice that something in her grand home wasn’t right.
Frustration drew tight across your chest causing your hands to seek support against the counter. For a split second, you imagined yourself splitting open and becoming two separate people. One being the doctor Naan trained you to be and the other something less controlled. Someone who was tired of listening but never being heard.
You listened as Naan began to retreat back to her table where the rest of the linens waited to be folded. You listened as another terrible cough violently shook itself free from her lungs as you focused on your work.
If you couldn’t help Naan you were just going to settle for helping Miss Kaya. Once you finished making Usopp’s requested medicine you were going to be sure he delivered it to her.
It was time a doctor paid a visit.
————
The shipyard.
Of course, Usopp was going to be here. Why you hadn't thought to come here first felt like a mystery all on its own.
In all the years you’d known him, Usopp’s routine hardly ever changed. He usually performed his usual pirate ritual just before he started his day in the shipyard. He was hired to care for and clean all of the ships housed within, however, and upon no real surprise to you, Usopp cleaned and polished the Going Merry daily.
So, it didn’t surprise you to find him already on the ship. What did surprise you were the three people standing with him steps away from the Going Merry, herself.
You didn’t feel alarmed in any way. Usopp was good with people - he enjoyed talking to anyone willing to listen. The man with the straw hat, who was grinning wildly in the direction of Usopp and then to his friends, seemed happy to listen. He was giving Usopp his full attention and whatever your friend was saying was exactly what Straw Hat wanted to hear.
The other two people beside him, however, didn’t seem to share in the excitement. Sure, the pretty woman with the orange hair was giving all the perfect signaling queues of a smile and nod to make it believable that she was interested in anything Usopp had to say. Did she probably care about whatever was being said? Probably not, but at least she didn’t look as sour as the moss-hair-colored guy-
Holy shit
Your feet stopped working. Your knees seemed to refuse to bend, to make any movement forward for the last few feet to close the distance to the group. For what reason? There had to be a perfectly good reason-
Nope. Thoughts gone. Head empty.
That was the best way to describe what was currently happening as your eyes stayed glued to the three-sword-wielding swordsman standing next to the woman.
Three swords? You wondered. Where does the other one go?
Maybe you would ask him if you ever summed up the courage to do just that. If you could just get your legs to function again.
In all the time you’d lived on Shell Island you were more than positive you’d never seen someone that looked close to him. Especially someone carrying around three swords or standing with so much purpose. Even as your eyes took him in you could tell he was pretending to be relaxed, but after years of mending bodies, you noticed the tightness between his shoulder blades. The ease he tried to display with a hand resting on the hilt of the sword wasn’t actually resting. Even relaxed, this man was ready to unsheathe those blades and use them at a moment's notice.
While the idea made you consider him a great swordsman, your heart also ached at the thought of feeling trapped and weary of others' intentions.
Your thoughts would’ve continued to run wild as you embarrassingly gawked at this stranger and his friends. All of that was ruined, however, when Usopp caught a glimpse of you between orange and green hair.
“Doc!”
Usopp’s excitement translated to a crazy arm wave and immediately caused all three of his newfound friends to face you. God, this meant you had to get your legs working. You had to physically move closer. You could do that. No problem.
Taking in a deep breath, you allowed a genuine smile to raise your lips in welcome. Luckily, your feet didn’t betray you as you moved the last few feet. You made a mental note as you got closer that the straw hat was meeting your smile with his own, while the other two regarded you with lackluster enthusiasm.
Great. They were the grumpy types of people.
“There you are Usopp,” you began cheerfully. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“You know, Usopp?” Asked straw hat.
You felt your brow crease in question as your smile wilted at the corners.
“I would hope so. We’ve known each other since we’ve lived here.”
“Impressive,” mumbled the woman.
Okay, maybe she wasn’t as friendly as you originally thought, but she was still definitely friendlier than moss hair. Who currently felt like he was drilling holes into your chest.
“Ugh, Doc I was just going to take these guys to visit, Kaya,” Usopp interjected.
He was still smiling - always smiling. His eyes darted to the three new faces before landing back at you.
“Why would you take them to see, Kaya?”
“She owns the shipyard and we-“Straw hat interjected, “Are in need of a ship. That beautiful ship behind us, to be exact.”
You glanced behind him to the Going Merry. Kaya’s family ship.
You shot Usopp a questioning glance that you weren’t surprised to see him ignore. He was up to something there was no doubting that. The issue was you weren’t sure what angle he was trying to play.
“Good luck with that.”
You did mean it. You didn’t think he was going to get it no matter how good-natured he seemed. That was still a family memory you weren’t sure Kaya would be willing to part with.
“Thanks!”
“Doc, before I take them over there do you by chance have what I asked for?”
You patted your satchel for good measure before you replied, “That’s why I was looking for you. I have it right here.”
Usopp took a step towards you, his hand outstretched in waiting for you to deposit the bottle. When you didn’t comply with his request he shot you a look of worry.
“You do have it right?”
“Yes, Usopp I told you I did. I just want to come with you to check on her myself.”
A look of worry dimmed the mirth in his eyes for one second. If you didn’t know what to look for you would have missed it entirely. You knew he’d been asking you for months to sneak in with him to visit Kaya. His own suspicions began to outweigh the doubt that plagued his heart with every heavy decision that needed to be made.
Deep down, Usopp knew if you were finally going to answer his request of sneaking in with him, it must be serious. A concept Usopp himself purposely tried to run from often.
“Wait, you’re a doctor? That is so cool!”
You needed to learn Straw Hat’s name because he was growing on you fast.
“I’m no-“
“She’s actually one of the best doctors in the whole East Blue,” Usopp beamed. “She’s cured this small village of at least two possible plague outbreaks twice already.”
You were willing to bet your eyes were the size of saucers. There was no way any of them would believe that kind of nonsense. There was absolutely no way-
“Wow, now that is really impressive! Sounds just like somebody who should be a part of my crew-“
“No!”
“We are not a crew!”
The absolute verbal whiplash you just experienced left your head reeling to pick up on every conversation. Straw Hat was practically turning into pure sunshine in front of you, while the other two were glaring like you’d sprouted three heads.
Geez, what a tough crowd.
“Ok, wait what?”
“It’s nothing he doesn’t mean anything by it,” the woman replied, a tight smile thinning out her lips.
“We don’t need someone pretending to play medicine woman to join us.”
Your eyes narrowed in on the now green-haired monster. He met your cold glance with his own. Whoever - whatever - he experienced in his life meant he didn’t find you the least bit threatening. He regarded you like an annoyance and you found yourself wondering why the universe made all the grumpy ones the most attractive.
If his lips pouted any harder he was going to have to rent a kissing booth.
“For your information, I’m not a pretend doctor.”
Whatever he was going to reply with was cut off by Straw hat who quickly pointed at himself. “I’m Luffy, and these are my companions Nami and Zoro.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Luffy,” you beamed letting them know your name in response. “But most people just refer to me as Doc because of Usopp.”
Nami clapped her hands together to bring you both back to the matter at hand. Kaya’s medicine. Their boat.
“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, can we get going? We really should stop by and pay her a visit.”
“Oh yeah! Come on guys, I can show you the fastest way there.”
Usopp tossed down his rag and skipped backward to the crate where his own satchel sat.
“Great! If you guys will kindly follow me this way I can show you something really awesome.”
You wanted to smack some sense into him. Usopp always wanted to be liked - for people to spend time with him and enjoy it. Besides Kaya and you who humored him with his opulent imagination and ability to spin fables like cotton candy. These people, Luffy excluded, did not deserve his endearing desire for friendship. They were both giving off major chip on their shoulder vibes and you vowed to become an even bigger pain in the ass if they were unnecessarily rude to him.
They didn’t wait to know if you were joining them or even behind them. They all moved forward to follow Usopp, who was spit-firing a conversation at Luffy who easily seemed to match it with his own charisma. Nami and Zoro trudged behind them both and you brought up the rear.
You’d hoped at some point Luffy or Usopp would drag you into the conversation. Anything that would keep your wandering eyes from constantly burrowing holes between Zoro’s sculpted shoulders. If you didn’t locate some form of self-control soon, you were positive your brain would be sent spinning into a tangent about how martial arts training with weapons was a godsend. So, looking at your feet for the next few miles would have to suffice.
It was strange how the world between poverty and the rich was such an overwhelming force. The farther you ventured out past the town and into the privacy of the landscape that kept Kaya’s family home hidden, it was a wonder that anyone would know it was there.
There were endless strawberry fields that farmers planted on one side and potatoes on the other. Dozens of workers tended to their growth with their hard work and sweat until a wall of bamboo cut off any view. All you could see was an endless path swallowed in bamboo branches making the path more foreboding than you thought necessary.
When you finally came in through the front gates, their iron and mortar was a welcomed sight. The one thing that wasn’t was that stupid Well you’d grown to hate ever since you almost fell in looking over the side as a child.
“I’ve never seen a house this big before.”
Luffy’s admission sent your eyes up from your feet to the large garden entrance. And that damned well that sat like a mockery in the middle of the walkway to the front.
“It’s impressive, right? Kaya’s given me an open invitation to stop by anytime I want.”
Your eyes darted over to Usopp who was practically skipping with excitement as he and Luffy made their way over to the well. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew he wouldn’t. If he did, Usopp would only find you looking at him - full of questions - with a look calling him a liar. You would never want him to feel bad. It was never your intention, however, it was going to be more embarrassing if you all got caught and thrown out on your ass than just being honest.
“Wow. That’s pretty awesome,” Luffy breathed. His face was full of wonder as he continued to take in the large space. “All of this is just for one person?”
“Well…she lives here with a few other staff.”
“Yeah. A bunch of asshole staff,” you grumbled under your breath.
By the way, Luffy and Usopp were hanging over the side of the well - ick - neither of them had heard you. Unfortunately, your fellow rear buddies did.
“You don’t seem to be a fan of the staff?” Nami ventured.
You eyed her carefully. She came off friendly enough, but she wasn’t giving anything else away. The small smile on her lips wasn’t reaching her eyes. Instead, they were calculating and waiting for you to give her any information you were willing or unwilling to give.
Nami was incredibly smart and equally dangerous because of it.
“They do a lot of suspicious things,” you replied slowly, unsure of how much sharing was too much.
“I’m sure butlers don’t come harboring life-threatening secrets,” Zoro countered.
His hand shoved in a pocket while the other still rested on the sword. He regarded you the way adults do children making up fairytales. The way the townspeople looked at Usopp like a silly child always crying wolf. They both thought you were being silly, and you wish you could say their disregard didn’t make your chest cave in just a bit, but you never were a good liar.
“No, maybe butlers don’t,” you countered, “but people do.”
When neither of them showed signs of continuing on with the conversation you started forward following Usopp and Luffy. You didn’t care about whatever conversation Zoro or Nami were having behind you. They could’ve been discussing robbing the place blind for all you could care about.
You were worried more about the people than the objects inside.
“If you have an invitation, why are we going through the back way?”
Just tell them, Usopp.
“Oh, well I never go through the front entrance. This is more of a VIP entrance.”
“This guy is full of shit.”
“Yeah, but if he gets us inside who cares.”
Why was Luffy the only member of this merry band of misfits who weren’t incredibly grumpy?
“Usopp,” you called out to him in a warning.
He gave you a glance over his shoulder before he made his way over the giant lily pads without a reply.
Little shit, you thought as you realized he was very much choosing to ignore your existence. Did you blame him? Not really. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had humored him this long and you were debating on if you should be the one to crush his newfound hopes and dreams.
Fortunately for you, you weren’t going to have to be the bad guy in that scenario. One already seemed to exist.
Just as Usopp reached the second lily pad, you knew something was wrong. The hiccup of an, “Oh,” that came out of him registering as panic. He was already turning back to stop Luffy from coming closer, almost begging him to go to another entrance - an extra special one - when he was interrupted by a knife plunging into the lily pad between his feet.
A very sharp knife. One you knew could’ve easily severed flesh or nicked an artery. Your blood boiled as you pushed past Luffy, your eyes darting wildly as Buchi stalked towards Usopp who stuttered past a greeting.
“What the hell are you doing here, Usopp?” He snapped as his hands lurched in to grasp the leather of Usopp’s top. “You know you aren’t welcome here.”
“I know nothing of the sort. I came to give Kaya an extra-special gift.”
You practically glided past the last lily pad when a sharp hiss cut the air. You didn’t necessarily need to look to see if it was Sham. You knew it was. She stood just off the first step from where they’d been disemboweling the hog, mop at the ready, and her teeth bared directly at you.
“He’s brought the doctor,” she hissed.
Buchi finally seemed to register your presence from behind Usopp and bared his own teeth in warning.
“You are definitely not welcome here.”
“A rather odd thing to say to a healer when your mistress seems to be suffering a mysterious illness.”
“An illness we are more than capable of handling.”
“I find that highly doubtful.”
With his hands still holding onto Usopp, Buchi leaned forward to growl - literally growl - in your face like a rabid dog. You wanted to poke him in the eye and were incredibly tempted to do so when a soft voice cut through the tension.
“Usopp! What a wonderful surprise!”
Everyone’s attention shifted as Kaya made her entrance on the arm of Klahadore. You took a step back and away from the two just so Usopp could twist himself free and walk towards the waiting mistress of the estate.
“I wouldn’t miss today of all days. Happy birthday, Kaya.”
“You remembered.”
My god, she was practically swooning and Usopp was eating it up.
“I could never forget.”
This feels awkward.
They acted like they didn’t have a captive audience watching them look at each other like two lovestruck teenagers.
It wasn’t hard to notice how Kaya beamed at him or how that attention brought happiness to Usopp. For as long as you can remember, even as children, Usopp always liked her. Sure, he would play it off as if they were just friends. There was no way she could see him that way, but when Kaya’s parents passed away three years ago what was between them seemed to change. Their feelings became something saturated in an understanding of loss. Usopp knew what Kaya needed because it was something he himself had never truly received.
So, did it bother you that she actually hadn’t greeted you yet? Not really. What did bother you, however, was the way Klahadore’s eyes slithered over to you. It made you feel like you were going to be sick.
“Usopp. Did you bring the doctor with you?”
Please, let me crawl into a hole and die.
There was something off about Klahadore. It wasn’t just because he made your skin want to completely crawl off your body. It was the way he sounded every alarm bell in your brain. The way your heart speeds up triggering the fight or flight response that was ingrained in your body's defense system. The way he continued to look at you as if you were a bug that needed to be squashed, only drove the feeling home.
“Oh, yeah. Kaya, I had Doc make you something for your cough. I figured it might be worth a try.”
God, he looked so happy. He was completely oblivious to how Klahadore seemed ready to smite you both where you stood.
You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Maybe when you opened them he wouldn’t be staring daggers into your face.
Nope. No such luck.
“Oh, that is so incredibly sweet,” Kaya beamed.
Klahadore slowly set his hand out in front of him. The cold obsidian of his eyes never left your face as he spoke. “Please hand over whatever tonic you’ve acquired for Miss Kaya.”
You weren’t aware your hand was already in the satchel. Your fingers wrapped protectively tight against the cool glass of the bottle as you continued to stare at one another.
“Hand it over. Please.”
“No-“
Usopp’s hand on your shoulder stopped you cold. Your teeth ground tightly to stop your next words. You didn’t want to hand that asshole anything. Not when Kaya looked so damn pale.
Something is wrong.
The thought wormed its way into your brain until it gnawed at all other thoughts until it consumed every available spot. It was all you could think as your eyes continued to look over her frail frame.
Naan taught you that as a doctor, and as a healer, it was your job to fight for your patients. To always do what you could and what was best for their care. Was giving the medicine you made for Kaya to Klahadore best for her care.
No. No, it sure as shit didn’t feel like it.
Maybe that was why it felt like such a betrayal to take the medicine from your bag and drop it inside his gloved hand. You watched as his disgusting white fingers wrapped around the gray bottle and brought it up to rest closely to his chest.
“Now, Usopp we’ve had this discussion about coming here unannounced - and this time with a doctor.”
“Nonsense, Klahadore,” Kaya interjected. “They are my friends. What a sweet gesture it was, Doc to try and make me something. Usopp, did you come to tell me more stories about your adventures?”
“I can do you one better. I brought some of my crew.”
With a sweep of his arm, Usopp introduced Luffy, Nami, and Zoro who registered this gesture with sheer disbelief. Well, disbelief would be putting it mildly.
“Is he talking about us?”
Luffy sounded as confused as you felt.
“I’m sorry, but we do not have any room for any extra guests tonight, I’m afraid.”
“Oh please, Klahadore couldn’t they at least stay for dinner? It is my birthday.”
You hated how Kaya had to beg to have company that wasn’t her staff. You could vaguely remember the butler who was in charge before Klahadore had arrived. Mr. Thorburr had been an absolute delight and genuinely seemed to care about Kaya and her family’s wellbeing. If he was still in charge, you were positive he would’ve believed in letting Kaya outside to enjoy the garden or have friends stop by, even unannounced, to visit.
One day he was just gone and slowly the only staff that was left were these three assholes. It all felt awfully convenient or maybe you were just being petty because you disliked them.
The way Klahadore looked at her made your stomach turn.
“Anything for you, Miss Kaya.”
You wondered if he choked a little over each word as they traveled up his throat.
“Great!” Luffy shouted. “When do we eat?”
“You don’t. Not dressed like that. You will change and bathe before dinner. No exceptions.”
Everyone was willing to accept the invitation. The premise of a bath seemed enough to make Nami practically skip forward to be led inside by Sham. Your feet, however, refused to move. Usopp, Luffy, and Nami practically took the small stairs up to the patio in one giant leap. Your earlier dread from the day was back and something dark borrowed its way into your chest.
Something is wrong.
You were about to turn tail and run when you noticed Zoro stop at the edge of the stairs. His body turned slightly to eye Klahadore one last time before he turned to follow after his crew. It was small and barely lasted a second, but it was enough.
Zoro noticed something wasn’t right either and maybe, just maybe, he’d be the one to believe you. All you had to do was join him inside the house to talk to him. No biggie.
Taking in a deep breath you finally moved to follow behind Kaya and Klahadore. Your eyes intently following a particular green-haired swordsman and wondering how you were going to get him alone.
The showers seemed like a great place to start.
_______________________
As always, thank you for reading. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
#one piece live action#opla zoro#roronoa zoro#one piece zoro#zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x reader#opla zoro x reader#opla#one piece#roronoa zoro fanfiction#zoro fanfiction#opla fanfiction#ongoing series#frienemies to lovers#its following the story arc with added spice in between#slow burn#friends to lovers#one piece x reader#zoro x you#roronoa zoro x you#reader is referred as Doc
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Eddie and Nancy
Just giving my brain a break from the Secret Tunnel (aka the game show) story. I still have two chapters to get through and my brain needs a cool down.
I've seen a lot of headcanons that Eddie is the Wheeler children's older half brother because of how much they look like each other.
But may I propose instead: cousins.
Hear me out.
You have first born, Elizabeth. Absolute hippie child. All about that free love, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. She learns how to play guitar, falls in with the charming and cool, Al Munson. They plan to tour the country his beat up old truck. But before that can happen, Elizabeth gets pregnant with Eddie. So she marries Al.
Then you have Karen, the younger sister. Bright, demure, absolute golden child. She dyes her hair and blows out the curls to more like waves so she doesn't look like Elizabeth anymore.
She does what she was raised her whole life to do. Get married to a good boy so they can have good children and pay taxes and never do anything fun.
When Elizabeth dies, Karen refuses to go to the funeral, hates that her name is even in the obituary at all. Then three years later when Al is sent to prison, CPS calls her first.
She's the boy's aunt. She has a comfortable home, and bringing him in would barely dent their finances. But Karen refuses. She won't have that delinquent anywhere near her children.
So they go to Wayne. Wayne who really doesn't have the space or the money to take care a little boy almost teenager. But he looks into those big brown eyes and can't say no.
They keep apart until the murders in town start in Wayne's own god damn trailer. He keeps his mouth shut when Nancy comes up to him asking about Eddie. He would like to throw it in her face that he knows who she is and that he knows full well that Karen would throw a fucking fit if she found out where her daughter was. But he won't. It's not the girl's fault her mother is a bitch.
After Vecna (and Eddie NOT dying) Nancy is sent to the attic to see if she can find some of Mike's old things to donate as a lot of Nancy's went to Holly. She finds an old trunk and though locked it comes apart in her hands. In it she finds dozens of pictures of her mom with beautiful girl with flying dark brown curls and sparkling eyes.
She smiles as she reminds her of Eddie.
Her mother calls out for her to hurry and slips one of the pictures in her back jeans pocket. Nancy closes the trunk and hurries back to her mother.
Then because Nancy can't leave a mystery well enough alone, she goes digging. All while Eddie and Max are in a coma, Nancy works on her mystery.
She finds her answer in the most unlikely of places. Joyce Byers's year book. She had it out showing her boys the outrageous hair styles they had in her day.
There two rows down from Lawrence Byers is an Elizabeth Childress. She's got ribbons in her hair and smiling brightly at camera. So full of life.
Childress.
She closes her eyes. There is no doubt this is her mother's sister. A sister Nancy never knew anything about.
She points her out to Joyce. "Oh, I remember her. Such a sweet girl. It's really too bad she fell in with that Munson boy. Or rather the wrong Munson boy."
She flips the pages and on the same row as her, is Wayne Munson staring up at her. So happy and free. The Vietnam would too soon take that from him. "That's Wayne. Such a good boy. Elizabeth would have thrived with him. But Wayne was shy and more interested in getting good grades than girls."
Joyce flips back to the seniors with Jim and Lonnie and began searching for the M's. "There." She pointed at another boy. Alan Munson. "He was trouble from the moment he was born. But he had a motorcycle and a leather jacket. Lizzy fell hard. They got married right out of high school, I heard."
Jonathan and Nancy share a look of shock.
"What happened to her?" Jonathan asks.
"Cancer," Joyce says sadly, "poor thing."
Armed with her knowledge and a borrowed yearbook, Nancy marches right up to her mother and slams the yearbook in front of her. The picture Nancy took from the attic serves as bookmark and she shoves both at her mother.
There is no denying it now. All the proof is right there in black and white.
"This is why you didn't want to join the D&D club my freshman year, isn't it? Because it was Eddie's club?"
Karen buries her head in her hands. And the truth just starts spilling out.
"And that boy is just like his father!" Karen cries. "He might have not have killed those kids but he was a drug dealer."
"To keep the lights on his trailer!" Nancy yells back. "If you and Dad had taken him in maybe he wouldn't have turned out the way he did. Maybe he be a better person."
"Or maybe he would have dragged you other children with him!"
"If you really thought that Mike wouldn't have been allow in Hellfire either!"
It's at this point Mike walks in and suddenly Karen is caught.
She breaks down and explains that Eddie had helped her with her car right before Mike started high school. So as a way to return the favor she let Mike join.
Nancy heads to the hospital and manages to get into see Eddie.
Wayne tells her only family is allowed to see him and Nancy smiles.
She knows.
Then Eddie wakes up, falls for Steve, the whole party teases Steve about keeping it in the family and Karen gets her head out of her ass and everyone lives happily ever after.
The end.
#my writing#stranger things#steddie#ladykailtiha writes#eddie munson#nancy wheeler#new headcanon#mike wheeler#karen wheeler#elizabeth munson#wayne munson#al munson
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the darkest hour never comes in the night [Logan/Reader]
Summary: Part 4 of my Home 'verse. Logan gets back after a clean up job with the X-Men to discover that you're missing. He's ready to track down whoever dared to lay a finger on you, but first he's going to have to seek an old mentor for help if he wants to find you. // Once you realize you're trapped in a nightmare of Sinister's making, you have to find a way to free yourself of the illusion. Even if you do manage to escape, will you ever be free of Sinister or will the effects of his experiment linger? Word Count: 15.6k Author's Notes: This chapter may contain: Surprise cameos!, angst, rescue missions, protective Logan, an omega level mutant or two, a smidge of foreshadowing, found family dynamics, reader being a badass, and Logan's POV!
When I'm With You I'm Home 'verse
Read on AO3
Logan had never been the type to believe a good thing would last.
Even when he felt on top of the world, he knew that sooner or later he would stumble right off and fall back to where he belonged at the bottom.
After losing his wife and the X-Men, he knew that there was never going to be a different ending to his story. He lost himself in bottle after bottle, searching for every escape he could get if it meant he wouldn't have to think about everything that had gone spectacularly wrong since the moment he walked away from his family.
If he could take it all back, then he would. But he couldn't, so he was forced to move on.
Loathe as he was to admit it, Wade had saved him from himself. He had been quick to hate him, all the good things had long been burned out of him, but Wade had changed that by being a special brand of hopeful and moronic. He had pushed and pulled and persisted when Logan wanted nothing more than for him to shut the hell up. He had forced Logan to be a hero again even when he felt like his own worst enemy.
When he was convinced that his universe was a lost cause because of Wade's deception, he could feel himself start to slip again. He took out all of his anger and resentment on Wade, loving that Wade could give as good as he got, because he wanted to feel the pain he was doling out. Loss and rage had blinded him once again and he felt hope slip away from him with each time he stabbed and tore and ripped into Wade.
But then a miracle happened. He woke up in that shithole they called the Void and found his missing piece. Y/N wasn't his wife, and despite what he knew she feared, he never compared the two of them. They had different sighs, laughs, smiles, moans, and turn-ons. Any thought of them being the same person was swept away in the Void when he kissed Y/N. She didn’t feel like his wife and ultimately, that was what he needed to move on.
Y/N had never been a replacement for him. She was something entirely unique and while he had fallen hard and fast, the initial attraction based on familiarity soon strengthened into the absolute love they shared.
He was so terrified all the time that he would lose her too. When they were in Y/N's first universe, he had wanted nothing more than to rip the other Logan apart. The other Logan looked at her like he thought she was still wrapped around his finger, at his beck and call for whatever he wanted to take from her. But Logan had made sure he got the message that Y/N was no longer his to string along. She had moved on, and while Logan would never think he was in any way better, he knew that he would never treat her like that.
He would never leave her for anyone else. Not only because he knew it would absolutely destroy her to lose him twice, but because he would rather let Wade unload a whole clip of adamantium bullets into his brain before he lost her.
It was the thought of returning home to Y/N and Laura and whatever surprise dinner was awaiting him there that got him through the rest of the mission with Wade. They had agreed to help the X-Men clean up after someone had blown up a bank. No one died, but a lot of people had been injured. It was only one in a series of attacks that had plagued the city, and no one knew who was responsible.
If Logan's previous experience told him anything, it was that whoever it was would crawl out of the woodwork sooner or later. Bad guys loved two things. Taking credit for their shitty behavior and boasting about it to anyone who would listen. He just hoped when the person was caught, he was front and center, ready to put an end to them once and for all.
"So," Wade started as he kicked at a piece of rubble. "Who do you think this shit stain is?"
"No clue," Logan answered, shrugging his shoulders. "We done here or what?"
"Yeah," Wade sighed, waving at Colossus before he started walking away. "Let's get the hell out of here. I'm hungry enough to take a bite out of Piotr's big, juicy metal ass and last time I tried that I nearly lost a tooth," he lamented with a sigh. "What do you think Y/N's making us for dinner?"
"Us?" Logan wondered, quirking an eyebrow at him.
"Well, yeah," Wade said, clapping a hand to Logan's back and ignoring his growl of annoyance. "You might be ready to kick me out like last night's one night stand, but Y/N happens to love me."
"Oh, really?" Logan huffed out an annoyed breath. "She tell you that?"
"As a matter of fact, she did. She told me we had to keep it on the down low, though, because she's just using you for your looks. I guess I can't give her everything."
Logan rolled his eyes, knowing it was useless to try to get Wade to stop being such an idiot. It was just who he was.
When Logan got back to the apartment, he expected to find Y/N and Laura waiting for them. Y/N had been eager about whatever dinner she had planned, and he was excited to share it with his favorite people and Wade.
Except, when he unlocked the front door, it was to Laura pacing the floor and smoke rising from the stove. He hurried to grab the pan and shove it under the faucet while Wade turned off the stove.
"What the hell happened?" He asked, turning to see that Laura was now standing at the window, intently watching the sidewalk down below.
"Y/N's going to be upset," Laura confessed, not bothering to tear her attention away from where it was directed out the window. "She said ten minutes, but it's been longer than that, and it burned anyway. Now her dinner is ruined, but she's not here. She was supposed to be here."
Logan had never heard Laura say so much all in one go and he knew it was only because she was genuinely worried. Concern was beginning to take hold of the confusion he was feeling, and he didn't know what to do with it without the answers he needed.
"Where did she go?" Logan asked as he started walking towards Laura. “Where’s Y/N?”
Laura finally turned to look at him. "The market on the corner. I--" Laura cut herself off with a scowl before she shook her head. Logan could hear sirens down below and he wondered if someone had reported the smell of smoke in the apartment. "I heard a noise. A boom," Laura clarified. "I was waiting for her to come home, but she hasn't, and now I'm worried that was her. I should have gone to find out what it was, but I just kept waiting for her to come back. I'm sorry."
"Fuck," Logan growled before he was out the door, not even bothering to wait for Wade or Laura to follow him. He could hear their footsteps behind him, but he wasn't willing to slow down. He was downstairs and rushing towards the corner store, a million different worries flooding his mind the closer he got.
He drew to a stop once he got to the store. The windows had been blown out and glass littered the sidewalk. Logan cautiously walked forward, peeking inside the store to see if Y/N was there, but she wasn't. He could smell her, though, which prompted him to walk inside, ignoring an officer yelling at him that it was a crime scene.
Logan allowed himself the time to take a close look at the damage. He could hear Wade distracting the officers outside and Laura was hovering in the broken doorway, unsure of her welcome.
Half the shelves had been destroyed and most of the store's stock was on the floor, knocked down by whatever had caused the explosion. The glass doors of the refrigerated cases had been cracked and the smell of smoke was threatening to drive him out of the store, it was so strong.
He couldn’t smell Y/N in here. Not with the smoke and all the other scents still lingering. He was trying to keep calm, but it was hard not to run off, chasing the smell of her.
What the hell happened to her?
Something on the floor caught his eye and he crouched down to look at it. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand. It was her keys. He had a brief, inane thought that if her keys were here, then how was she going to get back into the apartment? How would she come home? Would she come home?
The thought had him clenching the keys so tight in his fist that they cut into his skin.
"Logan," Laura called, gaining his attention. She sounded terrified and that had him immediately turning towards her.
She was crouched on the floor, studying something he couldn't make out at first. When he got closer, he realized that she was staring down at blood that had spilled on the ground. He joined Laura before he reached out, gently touching the blood and letting it stain his skin.
"Do you think it's hers?" Laura asked, her voice small and wary.
Logan hated hearing her like that, because even when she was facing Cassandra's goons and Alioth, Laura hadn't been scared. Hearing Laura like that only let Logan know that this was real. Y/N was hurt and she was missing and she might never return.
Logan stood, fury and horror making his heart pound so hard he could barely hear anything over the rush of blood.
He left Laura behind, needing to get out of the store. He was torn between panicking and fighting and he didn't know which way to turn to get Y/N back.
All he wanted was to get her back.
Wade was still being a distraction and Laura was still in the store and Logan had no one there at his side to tell him it was going to be okay.
He noticed a man sitting in the back of an ambulance. He was wrapped in a blanket and talking to one of the EMTs. Logan hurried over to them, shouldering the EMT out of the way to talk to the man.
"Do you work here? Did you see what happened?"
"Hey, he's suffered a--"
"Shut the hell up, bub," Logan snapped over his shoulder at the EMT. "Was there a lady here? Did she get hurt?" He directed at the guy in the ambulance.
The guy nodded his head, looking terrified as he stared up at Logan.
"Hey, tall, dark, and gloomy, give the guy some space," Wade prompted, finally joining him. "What's got you being an angry bear all of a sudden?"
"The lady," the guy started, still keeping eye contact with Logan, visibly frightened by him. Logan had no idea what he looked like at the moment, but he was about ready to snap Wade's neck if it meant getting some answers out of the guy. "She, uh, she came in looking for something. And then there was an explosion. And then--"
When the guy stopped talking, Wade stepped forward, reaching out a hand to fully push the EMT away. Logan noticed the guy roll his eyes before stomping away in the direction of the police officers investigating the scene.
"Alright, what happened after that? Now's not the time to be skimping on the details, friendo. Not unless you want me to give you some incentive to participate in share time here," Wade said, pulling one of his katanas free from where he still had it holstered to his back.
"Okay, okay," the guy scrambled to stand, looking like he wanted to put some distance between him and Wade, but he had nowhere to go. He held his hands out, silently pleading for mercy. "Then this guy came in and he was weird. He had glowing eyes and he was carrying a pack of cards with him and he had this accent I'd never heard before. He seemed to know the lady, because he picked her up and carried her right out of here."
"Was he about this tall?" Wade asked, demonstrating with his hand a height that was a little taller than him. "Roguishly good looks and like he could make love to you all night long with incredible physical stamina? Did he sound like an extra on True Blood they don't want to give many speaking parts to?"
"Will you shut up and let the guy talk," Logan snapped, half-tempted to stick his claws in Wade's face if it would give him just a moment to figure out what was going on.
"I guess," the guy answered, nodding his head at Wade. "I don't know how, but I think he caused the explosion. I think he was looking for that lady. I think she’s why he was there."
"Come on," Laura said, appearing at his side. "We're about to have company."
Logan glanced over to see three officers approaching. "Let's get the hell out of here," he muttered, not wanting to deal with whatever questions they might have.
"So," Wade started, keeping at Logan's side as he walked away. "Either an old friend took Y/N or there's another close-up magician running around with the same tricks."
"You're suggesting it was Gambit? They were friends in the Void. What would he want with her? Why would he hurt her?"
"It's not the same Gambit," Laura supplied, shaking her head. "Our Remy adored Y/N. He never would have done that to her. It must be the Gambit from this universe."
"Then we find this Gambit and we get him to tell us where she is," Logan suggested, barely keeping his anger in check. He wanted to find Gambit and rip his throat out, but that wouldn't help him find Y/N. Once everything was said and done, he would find a way to deal with Gambit.
"I have a better plan," Wade chimed in, finally holstering his katana again.
"You're a fucking idiot," Logan snapped, barely sparing Wade a glance. "There's no way in hell you're going to call the shots right now. Not when Y/N is missing and hurt." His voice strained on the last word, and he noticed Laura shoot him a concerned look.
"I might not have a great track record when it comes to teams. Got kicked off the X-Men, got most of X-Force killed, poor Johnny God rest his soul and his truly impressive vocabulary, but I've done alright for you so far, haven't I? You're still here," Wade pointed out, reaching out to grab Logan's arm and wave it around as if he needed proof. "And so's the little munchkin," Wade continued with a glance at Laura. "And I'm telling you that I have a plan to get Y/N back."
Wade still hadn't let go of him and Logan couldn't resist the urge to drive his claws into his ribcage. "An educated wish isn't going to cut it this time," he snarled before he ripped his claws out, not caring when Wade wheezed out a 'son of a bitch' before hunching over and clutching at his side. Logan was ready to let his anger carry him through the rough emotions he wasn't ready to process. Y/N wouldn't like him turning on Wade, but using the regenerative asshole as a punching bag was safer than taking it out on anyone else. It wasn't like she was there to stop him.
"This time?" Wade asked with an incredulous laugh, cursing under his breath when he managed to straighten up. "If I remember right, the last time I made one we spent the whole night stabbing each other. That's not going to get Y/N back, so let's not waste our time."
"This is real," Logan hissed, getting in Wade's space and pushing him back until he stumbled and fell to the ground. Logan only loomed over him, itching to put his claws somewhere that would only cause Wade more pain. "And if she dies because your fucking plan doesn't work, then I'm going to tear your spine out and bash your face in with it."
"Oh, hold on there, angry bear," Wade was quick to reply, bouncing to his feet and putting a few steps of distance between them when he noticed Logan bring his hand up. "Y/N is my friend. I care about her just as much as you do. Don't you fucking turn on me when I'm just as invested in finding her."
"No, you don't fucking care about her as much as I do. You don't know--," Logan abruptly cut himself off, the hitch of breath in his chest painful. He felt like he was struggling to grab onto anything that would keep him from falling and Y/N wasn’t going to be there to reach out and help him up. He wanted her with him so badly in that moment that he could hardly breathe past the longing and fear. Where was she? What the hell was happening to her? Why the fuck would Gambit take her? Why would he hurt her? What if he never saw her again because he was off playing hero while he should have been home with her? If he got her back, she was never leaving his side again. He would go where she went. He would kill anyone who even so much as tried to lay a hand on her.
"Logan," Laura interrupted his thoughts, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Just hear him out. If it's a stupid plan, we'll do something else. But for now, it’s all we’ve got."
Logan clenched his jaw, fighting the words he wanted to say. Instead, he gifted Wade with a reluctant nod of his head. "What's your plan, then?”
"Look," Wade started, moving to stand in front of Logan to halt his steps. "I may be an idiot, you're right, but if there's anything I know about the X-Men, it's that there's someone out there who can track down mutants using a super handy dandy mutant-finding machine," Wade pointed out, holding up two fingers to his temple, imitating Charles when he was using his abilities.
"Cerebro," Logan surmised with an incredulous laugh. "You want to ask Charles to find her." He knew it was the right plan. For once, Wade had a good idea. But the idea of going back to the X-Mansion and asking Charles for help felt wrong. He didn't know what it would do to him to go back to that place, even if it wasn't the same one he had left behind in his universe. He didn't know if he could ask Charles for a favor when he still felt like he had his Charles' blood on his hands.
He had done a good job of ignoring all the guilt and pain he felt being back at the mansion in Y/N's universe, because he was more focused on her than anything. But now she wasn't even here, and he might never see her again. He didn't want to dredge up old memories when he was still fighting down the panic that was making him sick to his stomach.
"You know old Chuck won't turn us away," Wade continued, ignoring the wariness in Logan's voice. "If anyone can find Y/N, it'll be him."
As much as Logan didn't want to revisit the place that featured heavily in his nightmares, he also didn't want to risk Y/N just because he couldn't get his head out of his ass. "Then let's go."
Seeing the X-Mansion under the current circumstances had Logan on the edge of a breakdown. In his old life, he had been a fuck-up and a drunk and it had cost him his wife. But this time, he had been better. He was present and had barely touched a drop of liquor and yet Y/N had still been taken from him. He felt cursed and he didn't know what was going to become of him if he never saw her again. It felt like it had been written somewhere that James Logan Howlett was meant to suffer every damn day of his miserable life and if this wasn’t proof of some cosmic punishment for being a complete fuck-up, then he didn’t know what was.
Colossus opened the door when Wade kept insistently knocking on it.
"Wade?" Piotr questioned, frowning at him. "What are you doing here?"
"We've come to see the Professor," Logan answered, already feeling the familiar swell of irritation rising with each moment that passed and he wasn't any closer to finding Y/N.
"I'm afraid--" Piotr started, but Logan cut him off.
"Professor!" Logan called, pushing past Piotr. "Charles!" He tried when he didn't get an answer.
"The Professor is busy," Piotr attempted to dissuade him, but Logan wasn't having any of that. He unsheathed his claws and turned towards Colossus.
"This is important," he spat, advancing on Piotr. "So, you find the Professor and tell him we need him now or I'm going to see what these will do to you," he warned, bringing his claws up so Piotr wouldn't need to question what he meant.
"Alright, angry bear, let's just take a moment to reassess," Wade cut in with a hand to Logan's chest. "Where's 'ol Chuck hiding? Hey, Chuck! Where you at?"
"Piotr? What on earth is going on?" A voice drifted in from the next hallway before Charles appeared in the doorway of the foyer.
"Charles," Logan started, advancing on him. "We need your help."
Charles studied him for a moment before tilting his head to the side. "You're not the Logan I know."
Logan never wanted another telepath in his head after what Cassandra did to him, but he knew Charles would never hurt him. It still didn't mean he had to like it. "I'm not from around here," Logan confirmed with a nod of his head. "But I need you to find someone for me."
Charles locked eyes with him and Logan knew he was skimming his thoughts, trying to figure out why Logan was really there. Logan did his best to give up all the information he could, knowing it would speed up the process a hell of a lot sooner than any conversation. The quicker they got down to Cerebro, the quicker they could find Y/N.
"Professor," Piotr called, but Charles shook his head.
"It looks like our new friends need my help," Charles told Piotr. "And I'm not going to let them leave here without doing what I can for them." Charles turned his wheelchair around before glancing over his shoulder. "Well? Are you coming or not?"
Wade clapped him on the shoulder before he skipped forward. Piotr muttered something in Russian before following, leaving Laura and Logan to trail behind the group.
Laura had been quiet for the rest of the trip to the mansion and Logan knew that she was feeling as guilty as he did right now.
"Hey," he whispered, waiting for her to look up at him. "This isn't your fault, you know?"
Laura scowled before she smoothed her expression out into something more neutral. "I know."
Logan reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, earning another scowl. "No, you don't. Because I know right now you're thinking that if you had been with her, then you might have been able to stop Gambit."
Laura nearly stumbled, but she was quick to right herself. "I didn't realize you were a telepath too," she snarked. "Don't tell me what I'm thinking."
If Logan didn't already know that Laura shared DNA with another Logan, he would have sworn they were actually related. As it was, he still couldn't help but care for the kid. She looked at him like she was seeing a ghost half the time, but he knew that she still had some things from her past she needed to resolve. If he could help, then he would, but he didn't want to push. He knew it wouldn't go well if he did.
"I don't blame you," he tried, knowing it was closer to what she was worried about along with Y/N's disappearance. "I don't want to lose you either," he also threw out when he realized it might also help.
Laura didn't respond, but he noticed the way her shoulders slumped, built-up tension easing with the reassurance.
Logan forgot what it was like to watch Charles while he used Cerebro. Knowing that Charles was touching every mind he could searching for Y/N had hope blooming in his chest. Charles was the most powerful telepath he knew, and he always came through for him.
He tried to hide his disappointment when he saw the concentrated frown on Charles' face.
"Y/N," Charles called out, searching for her. "Y/N," he tried again, staring off into the distance, seeing something Logan couldn't.
Charles shook his head, glancing up at Logan.
"There's something, but I can't tell if it's really her or not. It's faint, almost as if she's not really there or something's blocking me from finding her."
Logan suddenly recalled what Cable had told them. Y/N's forcefields would eventually be strong enough to keep out a telepath as strong as Charles. Charles must have read his mind, because he made a thoughtful noise.
"It seems as if whoever took her is trying to keep out a telepath." Charles didn't say anything for a moment before he added, "Or keep a telepath in. Possibly both."
"Why would they need to keep a telepath in?" Laura wondered, shooting Charles a nervous look.
"If they have unlimited access to her mind, then they can condition her to believe anything. If they can keep another telepath from intervening, then they can do whatever they want to her mind."
Logan's claws began to pierce through his skin, and he turned his back on the others so they wouldn't know how upset he was feeling. "Why," was all he got out with his jaw clenched and his shoulders so tense he felt like they would snap. "Why her? Why are they doing this?"
"I can keep trying," Charles offered, "but I'm not sure if I will be able to get through to her. Not right away, at least. Until then, I’m afraid I won’t be of much use to you. I won’t be able to give you the answers you seek."
"Remy," Laura blurted, stepping forward to stand at Charles' side. "Find Remy LeBeau. He's the one who took her and he might know where she's being held."
Charles went silent as he reached out, trying to track down Remy. Logan thought it would take a while, but it seemed like no time at all before Charles let out an amused chuckle.
"Well?" Wade prompted when Charles stayed silent. "Wanna share with the class, Professor?"
"The man you're looking for is standing at the gates," Charles finally spoke, breaking himself away from whatever mental conversation he had been having with Remy. "It seems he's waiting for you."
"Then let's not keep him waiting any longer," Logan growled, unleashing his claws. Logan didn't even wait for the others to keep up with him. He wanted to find Gambit and choke the life out of him for touching Y/N. He wanted to sink his claws into Remy's chest and let him drown in his own blood. Most of all, he just wanted to find out where the hell he had taken Y/N.
As he hurried towards the gates, he could see someone standing just outside them. There was a flash of pink and Logan realized that Remy was idly flipping one of his cards between his hands.
"Where the fuck is she?" Logan noticed Remy turn to watch him as he barreled down the driveway towards him.
"Who?" Remy played dumb with a slight smirk on his face.
"You fucking know who," Logan spat, pulling back one hand, poised to strike, once he was close enough to hurt Remy.
Remy flicked a card at him, letting it ignite and explode, knocking Logan back several feet.
Logan felt a low rumble in his chest that only got deeper as he threw himself at Remy again. Remy snapped another card at him and Logan felt fire dance along his skin as he was thrown to the ground from the blast. He knew he would only heal, but he was starting to get frustrated.
He rose again, intent on finally getting his claws into the smug, insufferable asshole before Wade stepped in. "Okay, big guy, the sun's getting real low."
"Shut the fuck up," Logan snapped before he took another swipe at Remy, only barely grazing his skin because Laura showed up and pushed Remy out of the way.
"He's the only one who can help us find Y/N," Laura told him when Logan shot her a betrayed look.
"Shit, I'm oh for two on that one," Wade groaned as he unsheathed a katana. "Guess it only works on the Hulk." He pointed one of his blades at Remy. "I suggest you start talking or I'm gonna make you talk. Where's Y/N?"
"I might know how to help you find her," Remy finally admitted, holding his hands up in surrender. "But I'll need a little reassurance that if I get you to her, you'll help me kill him."
"Him? Who the fuck is him?" Logan wondered, wanting to know who the fuck took Y/N so he could track the guy down and kill him.
Remy grinned at him, as if he knew what Logan was thinking and he approved. "He goes by Mister Sinister."
"Whoa, whoa, wait," Wade brought his hands up, putting one vertical and lying the other over the top of it to form a 'T.' "Let's just pause here. He calls himself Mister Sinister? Dear God, what is with all these self-important Marvel jackasses thinking they're so special? Mister Sinister, Mister Fantastic, Mister Negative," Wade listed, bringing up a finger for each one. "From now on, you're all calling me Mister Deadpool. No, never mind. Lord Deadpool," he settled on with a firm nod of his head. Gambit shot him a disbelieving look and Wade flipped him off. “Bitch, I said what I said.”
"Jesus," Logan grumbled, wishing that Wade would learn that sometimes saying nothing was preferred than whatever rambling nonsense was coming out of his mouth at any given moment.
"Yes?" Wade turned to look at him as if Logan had been addressing him.
Logan rolled his eyes, unimpressed, before turning his focus back on Remy. Wade was good at throwing himself into a situation and making himself the center of attention, but Logan wasn't about to let himself get distracted. Not when Y/N's life was at stake.
"Where the hell can we find this Mister Sinister?"
"Ah, I think your telepath friend should be a part of this conversation, seeing as he's the one who's gonna be finding your friend."
Logan drew in a deep breath, attempting to keep the refusal he so desperately wanted to give from breaking free. He wanted Remy nowhere near Charles or anyone else he might hurt. Charles was the only person who could find Y/N. If Remy took Charles out of commission, then they might never find her. But Logan, as much as he hated it, knew that he was backed into a corner. He was going to have to trust that if shit hit the fan, then Wade and Laura would help him keep Remy in line. He supposed if push came to shove, they could just get Piotr to sit on Remy and see how long he could stand it until he folded.
He looked over at Wade, meeting his gaze, and only felt marginally better when Wade gave a tiny nod of his head.
At least they were on the same page for whatever was about to happen.
"All right, Gambit, Le Diable le blah blah or whatever the fuck it is you're called, let's go, then," Wade said before gesturing for Remy to start walking up the path towards the mansion.
Gambit shot Wade a contemplative look before he let out a chuckle. "Your friend seemed to know far more about me than she was supposed to as well. I suppose we've met in another life," he mused with an expression Logan didn't like.
Logan felt a rush of anger at the idea that Y/N had looked up at Remy and thought it was the one she knew. He hated that Remy looked like he was nearly fond of her. As if he hadn't just kidnapped her and left her in the clutches of someone who would likely only hurt her.
He didn't realize he had raised his hand to sink his claws right into the smug bastard's back when Laura reached out and placed a hand on his arm. He was quick to snarl at her, but she wasn't phased.
"Once we know where Y/N is," Laura told him before flicking a glare at Remy. "Then you can do whatever the hell you want to him. But until then, try to make sure you don't do anything that will keep him from talking."
Logan hated to admit that the kid had a better head on her shoulders than he ever did, but he was also fiercely proud of her. She was smart and even though she had one hell of a temper, she was still levelheaded when all he wanted to do was kill whoever stood between him and Y/N. He knew, though, that once they had the information they needed, Laura would be just as ruthless.
Piotr was waiting for them at the entrance to Cerebro. He didn't look pleased to see Remy, but he still stepped to the side, gesturing for him to enter.
Charles was facing the doorway, his gaze staying on Remy as he entered the room.
"You're quite the fascinating one, aren't you?" Charles asked, studying Remy with a thoughtful expression.
"You could've at least bought me dinner first," Remy commented with a smirk. "Or at least got me liquored up before you went rummaging through my head."
"Extenuating circumstances," Charles replied and from the tone of his voice, Logan got the hint that Remy and Charles were having an entirely different mental conversation.
"You wanted to have Charles here and he's here," Logan pointed out with a gesture at the telepath. "So talk," he commanded, an itch just under his skin becoming more unbearable by the moment. He felt like every moment he wasn't running towards Y/N was a waste of time. He didn't want to play any more games with Gambit and he sure as hell didn't want to let him distract from why he was here.
Charles and Remy kept their eye contact for long enough that Logan was about to sink his claws into the any part of Remy he could reach if it would just get him to talk. Finally, he tore his gaze away from Charles, breaking whatever connection they had.
"The Professor here knows most of the story by now, but I'll tell you what I can," Remy finally said, turning to give Logan a curious look. "And then when I'm done, we'll go rescue your lovely bele and we'll kill Mister Sinister. It's a win for both of us, my friend."
"That's only if I let you walk away after this," Logan pointed out, pulling his hand into a fist, half-tempted to flash his claws at Remy.
"Oh, you're gonna need me, and I expect by the time we're through, you'll want to keep me around," Remy shot back with a wink.
"Holy shit, I think you've got a shot with Gambit," Wade hissed at him and Logan reached out to push him, nearly sending him toppling over the walkway.
"Tell us where Y/N is," Laura demanded, quirking an unimpressed eyebrow at Remy.
"I'll get to that," Remy promised, "but there's more to this than what you think. Mister Sinister has done horrible, terrible things and I did them all for him, because he asked it of me. But I don't want to be that person no more. Because he'll kill everyone he doesn't want knowing what he knows about mutants. That's where he lost me, you see, the killing. I knew that if I could pull this off, then I would be done with him for good."
"What does he know about mutants?" Logan couldn't help but ask, confused and worried about where Remy's story was going.
"He's a geneticist," Charles chimed in, his tone solemn. Logan didn't know what information he had gotten from Remy, but evidently it hadn't been anything good. "He craves power, be that for himself or those he deems worthy of his experiments."
"I knew that if I did this one last job and grabbed your Y/N for him, then I could count on the X-Men to help me take him down. I wanted to put him on your radar, because I can't take him down alone."
“Motherfucker, have you never heard of a cell phone? You pick it up and you call someone and tell them important shit. You don’t resort to kidnapping half the main pairing. Look what you’ve done to the story, you selfish bastard,” Wade admonished, pointing one of his katanas at Remy.
Remy went quiet for a moment before he continued, his expression somber. "I made a deal with Sinister long ago because I was scared of what I could do. It's not just these that I can charge and then make go boom," he explained, suddenly holding a playing card between two fingers. "It's anything. Even you," Gambit admitted, nodding at Logan. "I can do much more than that. But I got scared, you see, and I asked him for a favor. And then he asked me for one. That favor turned into a group of mutants who did a lot more harm than good. And I don't want anything to do with that ever again. So, no, a phone call wouldn’t have cut it," he explained to Wade. “I needed this to be personal. For all of us.”
"Just how dangerous is this Mister Sinister?" Logan wondered, fearing even more for Y/N's safety. Was he experimenting on her? Why did he even want her in the first place? He felt like Gambit was raising more questions than answering them and he hated that this just seemed to be wasting more time.
"Incredibly dangerous," Charles answered. "If Remy is right, then we will need to be careful. It's likely that Y/N is being manipulated into using her ability to keep me out. Whatever this Mister Sinister is doing to her, he doesn't want anyone interfering."
"I've been wanting this fight for a while," Gambit continued once Charles finished speaking. "But I've been careful, because I knew that if he learned about what I had planned, then he would kill me."
"I don't give a fuck about you," Logan snapped, knowing that Y/N wouldn't even be gone if it wasn't for Remy and his grand scheme for freedom from Mister Sinister.
"If it hadn't've been for me, then she would be dead," Remy shot back, his eyes glowing red for a moment. "I don't know how she snagged his interest, but she must've done something. He wanted her dead, you know, but I stole information for him. Information that saved her. Because like I told you, I'm done killing for him."
Logan didn't know what to say to that. What the hell had Y/N done that pissed off Mister Sinister so much he wanted her dead? The guy sounded like the worst kind of jackass and he didn't like that he had his hooks in Y/N now.
"And I knew that if I was going to pull this off, then I would have to get someone on the inside too. So, I'll show you where he likes to do his experiments. He has several labs, and I didn't drop Y/N off at any of them. But my partner, who also wants to see Sinister burn, is helping him." Remy turned to meet Charles' stare and they had another conversation Logan wished he could hear.
Charles turned back towards Cerebro and placed the helmet back on his head. Logan tried to be patient as he watched Charles search for Remy's friend, but it was hard to know if it was worth it when this might not even work. Remy might be lying or maybe his friend had double-crossed him. This whole plan was based on too many conditions and Logan was terrified that it would all fall apart.
But then Logan caught the faint edge of a smile on Charles' face. "It's been a long time," Charles mused, evidently talking to someone else. He didn't say anything for a moment. "Thank you," he finally uttered and removed the helmet.
"Who was that?" Wade questioned and Logan marveled at the fact that he had forced himself to remain silent for so long.
"An old friend," Charles answered before nodding at Remy. "I know where they are. I can get you to the facility from here. In the meanwhile, I'll continue to try to get in contact with Y/N. Our friend helped me get a little closer, but I couldn't get close enough. It's strange. She's there, I know she is, but it's like she’s been muted."
"And you trust this old friend?" Logan trusted Charles implicitly, and while he knew Wade and Laura would have his back, there were too many unknown variables being thrown in now.
"We might have had our problems in the past, but yes," Charles confirmed with a nod of his head.
Wade clapped his hands together before reaching out to slap a hand to Gambit's shoulder. Gambit shot him a bemused look, but Wade was already turning to address Charles. "Does this mean we'll finally warrant someone from the A-team of the X-Men? No offense," he threw in Piotr's direction.
Piotr merely frowned at Wade in confusion.
"Most of the X-Men are out on missions, but someone did just get back a few hours ago. I believe he'll be able to help you. I'll call him now," Charles offered before closing his eyes and bringing his right pointer and middle fingers up to his temple.
Wade shot him a glance before imitating Charles and Logan had to roll his eyes. He would never say it to him, but Wade had a good plan. Now, they were a step closer to finding you and they were even getting reinforcements.
"Oh my God, I'm so excited. Who do you think it'll be? I'm betting on Cyclops. Sure, he's a bit of a self-righteous little prick, but damn will he get the job done," Wade rambled, gesturing widely enough that he almost smacked Remy in the face. Logan was half-sure it had been done on purpose.
The door to Cerebro slid open and a man walked inside.
"Oh my God, it's--," Wade cut himself off as he considered the man. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Alex," the man answered with an annoyed glance at Wade. "Prof, what's going on?"
"This is Alex Summers," Charles introduced, gesturing towards the guy. "Or Havoc as the team is so fond of calling him.”
"Bitch, didn't you die?" Wade wondered, staring at Alex in confusion.
"What? No! I'm right here," Alex pointed out, gesturing at himself.
"Huh," Wade mused for a moment before he shook his head. "Wow, the retcon is real with this one. I guess people really don't give a fuck about the Fox movies anymore."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Alex asked, looking like he was just moments away from attacking Wade.
That definitely wasn't going to do a damn bit of good, so Logan decided to step in. "We need your help tracking down someone. She's…," he trailed off, not even sure there was a word to describe exactly what Y/N was to him. "Everything," he finally settled on and when a look of understanding flashed across Alex's face, Logan carried on. "And this Mister Sinister took her and now we need to get her back."
"Then let's go get her," Alex agreed with a simple nod of his head. "Where's she being held?" He asked as he addressed Charles, waiting for Charles to share the information with him.
Logan took a brief moment to size up the team. He looked from Wade to Laura, knowing that they both wanted Y/N back and would risk everything to save her. Alex and Piotr were X-Men who were trained to rescue anyone they could while also stopping the bad guy. And then there was Gambit, who was an unknown. He wasn't the one from the Void, but he claimed he was done with Sinister. Logan didn't want to, but he would have to trust him too.
Charles seemed to sense the turn in Logan's thoughts because he offered him a warm, reassuring smile. "I'll continue to attempt to contact Y/N and let her know you're on your way. You'll find her, Logan."
Logan didn't want to say that he feared the state he would find Y/N in. What if he was too late? What if she were gone and he would never get her back? He had suffered over and over his whole life, but she was the bright spot that pulled him up from the depths of rock bottom. If he plummeted that far again, he didn't think he would ever get up again.
"Have faith," Charles told him and it took Logan a beat too long to realize he hadn't voiced that out loud, instead choosing to speak to Logan in his mind. "Y/N is waiting for you."
Logan nodded his head before he looked at his makeshift team. "Let's fucking go."
You opened your eyes, staring at the bookshelves in front of you. You weren't sure whether you wanted to laugh or cry with relief, but you settled on making yourself stand up. You were ashamed, guilt threatening to weigh you down, at what you had become.
Charles told you that help was on the way, but what would Logan think of you once he found out what Nathaniel had nearly made you do? Even if it wasn't real, you had nearly killed someone out of spite. You had been so ready to destroy yourself just because you had been pushed too far. Years of training with the X-Men had gone right out the window and you had let the bad guy get to you.
"It wasn't real," you muttered to yourself, trying to convince yourself you weren't too far gone. All you had to do was think about Logan, the real Logan, coming to find you and it had you strengthening your resolve to get the hell out of whatever trap Nathaniel had constructed for you.
The help that was promised would be useless if you couldn't figure out how to escape the illusion. You tried to think of anything that might help you pull at the curtain, getting a peek at the wizard behind it. It took you a moment, but you finally realized besides Nathaniel and the voice in your head that had been Charles, there was one other fixture that had been steadily present in the fucked-up existence Nathaniel dreamed up for you.
You forced yourself to your feet, intent on seeking out the only other person who might be able to give you some answers.
She was still sitting at the table, idly flipping through a newspaper. Seeing her in her ever present all-white ensemble made you feel like you were about to trip right down the rabbit hole, chasing a white rabbit who would only bring you more trouble.
"Took you long enough, sugar," she drawled, arching a brow at you.
"Who the hell are you?" It wasn't really what you wanted to know, but it would give you a little bit of clarity.
"Emma," she supplied, finally turning in her chair to consider you fully. "Emma Frost. And you're Y/N. I know all about you," she claimed, briefly tapping a finger to her temple.
"You're a telepath," you surmised with a groan.
"Got that right," she agreed with a wicked smile that sent a shiver through you. "But I'm on your side, if there even are sides here. Nathaniel, as you know him, is someone who goes by an entirely different name. Mister Sinister," she added when you shot her a confused look. "He stole you away because he wanted to tweak your powers. He wanted you on his side, because he claimed you would be a wonderful agent of destruction. He's been using your forcefields to keep out Charles, but while Nathaniel's been distracted, I've been lowering your defenses and letting Charles in just enough to try to talk to you. I'm the one who told him where we are."
"Why," you bit out, not sure how to stomach all of the information. Why are you here? Why are you helping him? Why are you helping me? All those questions went unspoken, but from the way Emma nodded her head, you knew she still heard them.
"Nathaniel needed a second telepath to keep you contained in his reality, because he wanted to fully immerse you. He wanted a good telepath, someone who could keep his deception running. He contacted The Hellfire Club and thought he could hire me, but there's not enough money in the world to make me give a damn about his little schemes. But I was curious, and Remy approached me with a more tempting deal, so I'm here. Despite what Nathaniel might think, some people can't be bought. He was stupid enough to leave me in charge whenever he couldn't give his full attention to the lie and I’ve been doing what I can to let Charles in without Nathaniel noticing. "
"Remy," you muttered, thinking back to the explosion in the corner store that had started it all. "He was real?"
"Real as you or me, sugar. Nathaniel's got agents everywhere, but Remy wants out and I decided to help him. He wants Sinister gone once and for all and I thought that was a worthy enough cause to let myself get wrapped up in all this."
You didn't know how to keep up with everything she was saying. You felt so angry, fury burning through you faster than you could process, but you couldn't let it overwhelm you. You needed to keep your head, because if you slipped now, it might be the difference between life and death. If you weren't careful, you might never see Logan again.
"Wake me up," you snapped, advancing on her. "You're a telepath, right, so get me the fuck out of here."
"Are you sure you're ready for that? You might not be prepared for what's going to happen," Emma warned.
"I just want out," you hissed, feeling that creeping sense of anxiety pushing in at the edges. You felt restless and wired and all you wanted to do was bring the fight to Nathaniel. "Let me out," you pleaded, hating how your voice went weak and broken on the last word.
Emma studied you for a moment before she stood up. "Be careful what you wish for," she warned before reaching a hand out and placing it on your shoulder.
There was a moment when you felt like you were falling. Darkness enveloped you and there was a rush as Emma forced you out of Nathaniel's illusion. Your senses came back to you one by one, leaving you to try to piece together what was happening to you.
You heard a steady beeping noise and felt like something was weighing you down. You heard someone muttering to themselves and felt the chill of the room. You could smell something vaguely metallic, and a bitter taste coated your tongue. You could feel a freezing sensation sweeping through your veins as well as the stiff sheets that covered a cot you were lying on. None of it was comforting and you wanted nothing more than to see for yourself what was going on.
After what felt like minutes that had dragged into hours, you finally forced yourself to open your eyes. There was a light shining in your eyes and your vision when shockingly white for a second. Pain spiked through your head, but you forced yourself to focus, glancing away from the light to the side.
There was a man standing there. He was facing a machine, focused on a readout. You instinctively knew that it was Nathaniel, but he looked different. His skin held a greyish tint to it and from the reflection of the screen he was looking at, you could see his eyes were red.
"I should have known better than to trust someone who I pulled from the depths of The Hellfire Club," Nathaniel mused, meeting your eyes through the reflection. "Although, I supposed her diamond mutation is the only thing that will save her now. It's really quite intriguing."
You felt a shiver run through you and you attempted to sit up, but it was then you realized you were strapped down to a bed. There was an IV set up, the needle nestled in the crook of your arm. Panic flooded your mind, and you struggled uselessly against the restraints across your chest, stomach, and thighs.
Nathaniel turned to look at you, a pleased smirk on his face. "I'm not going to hurt you," he claimed, as he took a step towards the bed. It was then you caught sight of the red glowing diamond on his forehead and you didn't know why that set you off. Nathaniel had seemed normal, but seeing him as Mister Sinister finally convinced you that you were in the presence of someone truly evil. "Not when I invested so much in you." He grabbed the back of a chair that was close by and settled it near the head of the bed. He sat down in it, uncomfortably close to your face, and reached out to brush a hand over your forehead, wiping away the cold sweat that had broken out.
"Why," you managed to get out, even though you were shaking. "Why did you take me?"
Nathaniel sat back, giving you a moment to breathe without his intense focus bearing right down on you. "I was going to kill you," he admitted with a fond smile. "You took out my Marauder. My Riptide. No one had ever done that before. He's unique, you see, and I was upset. While I was blinded by rage, my Gambit saw something in you. He's quite the thief, you know. He found the TVA's records on you. I'm still not sure how he got in and out without them noticing, but he's a clever one."
"Remy," you whispered, thinking of the friend you once had in the Void. But this wasn't your Remy and you didn't know what to think about the fact that he had inadvertently saved you and signed you up for Nathaniel's mindfuck of a plan. Your Remy had been bold and chaotic, but he had never been cruel. He never would have worked for Sinister. "Why is he working for you?"
"He needed something from me," Nathaniel answered, reaching out to trace an 'x' with his finger over your forehead. "He was terrified of his own power and thought I could help him control it by removing a piece of his brain. In return, I made him work for me. He's been working with my other Marauders to draw you out for weeks with attacks around the city. I knew I needed you alone, so I bided my time."
You licked your lips, suddenly so aware of how dry your mouth was that you couldn't stand it. "What did he find at the TVA?" You knew you should be trying to get away, but you wanted answers. You also had the feeling that as long as Nathaniel was right there at your side, you wouldn't be going anywhere. You might as well take advantage of the situation while you could and hold on to the hope that Logan would show up soon.
"Did you know that your universe lost its anchor being? Scott Summers," he answered without you even having to ask. There was an affectionate, warm look that flashed across his face before it was gone. "He's another mutant I've always found quite fascinating. Have you heard of him? Of course you have. You were on the X-Men together," Nathaniel continued with a sly grin, confirming he knew more about you than you wanted him to.
Your mind was racing at the implications that Scott had been the one keeping your universe together. Losing Scott had surely set your life spinning off in a crazy direction, but the fact that your universe couldn't survive without him? You weren't sure whether to laugh or cry at the thought.
"Your universe maybe had several hundred years before it died out, but the TVA knew about your potential. They pruned you and dropped you into the Void to give you time to get over your heartache. You were so broken up over losing the Wolverine that you became a shell of yourself, and they couldn't have that. They needed you strong and ready for a fight." Nathaniel's fingers swept down from your forehead before brushing over your eyes and then nose. He continued down until he could press them just under your jaw, checking your pulse.
"Then what happened?" You asked just to keep him talking. You didn't like the way he was considering you now, measuring and fixed right on you.
"I'm sure you can guess," he prompted with a sharp grin, showing his teeth. "They planned on approaching you after a few years once you had the time to properly hone your abilities and ask you to work for them. But then Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett saved every universe from being ripped apart by Cassandra Nova and made you one of their little consolation prizes. They still wanted you, but Nathan Summers intervened on your behalf."
There was another brief fond look on his face at the mention of Cable and you wondered why he was so outright obsessed with the Summers family. It was as if he thought they were his playthings that had managed to impress him.
"So," he continued, finally pulling his hand away from your throat, "the TVA dropped their plans for you. I, however, plan on doing no such thing. What they were willing to wait years for, I achieved within a day. Because I knew all I had to do was get you all to myself and make you see things my way. Once I knew about you, I couldn't let you go. I theorized that your powers, if left to mature, would become incredibly destructive. You could level whole cities. You could trap people and make them suffer in such beautiful ways. And you could do it all without taking any damage to yourself. You're perfect," he turned a warm smile on you that felt entirely wrong. His hand drifted down towards the needle still stuck in your arm. He tapped it twice, smirking at your wince, before ripping it out. "And I wanted you all to myself. I could have wiped your mind and erased Logan from it, but I didn't want to do that."
A small part of you thought maybe this would all have been easier on you if he had done that. But then you thought about Logan, who hadn't actually abandoned you at all. None of your grief had been real, because it had been entirely fabricated by the man sitting at your bedside.
"It was like I told you, I had to break you to remake you. So, I broke you," he leaned down so his face was hovering just over yours. "And you made it so easy for me," he drawled with a wicked grin.
You felt a rush of anger and strained against the straps keeping you tethered. A disappointed expression flickered across his face and he shook his head.
"Your self-esteem issues are truly impressive, do you know that? Even now, after all the work I've done, you still doubt yourself," he hissed, reaching out to cup your cheek in his hand and forcing you to look fully at him. "I've crafted some truly wonderful mutants in my time. Scott Summers, Nathan Summers, the Maximoff twins. They have all yielded some of the best results, myself not included, but it's been quite some time since I've dealt with such raw, organic potential. I barely had to do anything. It was all locked up inside, hidden beneath layers of your own mental blocks. I just had to power through them and get you to see what you’re capable of doing."
You heard a low rumble before the lights flickered. It felt like the building shook for a brief moment and then stilled. It was then you could hear people shouting and screaming before it was followed by another explosion.
Nathaniel let out an amused chuckle, as if he wasn't concerned about what was happening just outside the lab.
"Enjoy my gifts," he added before he stood, backing away from you. “I expect to see you using them.” He turned to face the doors just as someone rushed inside.
"They're here for her," he growled, nodding towards you.
You were shocked to see Sabretooth and you wondered how it would affect Logan to see his brother again.
"Of course they are," Nathaniel sighed before following Victor. "Then let's go welcome our visitors."
You panicked at the thought that Nathaniel would be going anywhere near Logan. His goal had been to separate you from Logan so he could swoop in and fill the void in your life. What if he actually wanted to kill Logan? There was no doubt in your mind that he would find a way to kill him if it meant he could get you under his control. The illusion had shattered, leaving Nathaniel with no other choice but to rip Logan away from you for good.
You could feel fear and rage mesh within you and all you wanted to do was get rid of the damn restraints. You pushed and pulled and finally when you had enough, you brought up a forcefield. It was pressed in so close to you that you felt nearly crushed by it, but then you shoved it outwards, recalling the feeling of using it in the reality Sinister had constructed for you.
It worked, sloppy and off center, but you still got the result you wanted. The floor beneath the bed was cracked, but the straps had given way, and you were free.
You could hear the fight, but you couldn't see it. You decided to rectify that, attempting another repulsion field and aiming it towards the wall that separated you from the others. This one was better, although you figured if your target was a wall, then it wasn't that much of a struggle. You used the forcefield and pushed out, sending out a concussive blast that put a crack in the wall. You watched as the crack grew and split, branching off in multiple directions before the wall began to crumble, taking part of the roof with it.
The next room was total chaos.
The first person you noticed was Remy. He was flinging card after card, hitting targets and making them explode. He had his staff in one hand, using it to deflect and push, slamming it into people before making them ignite. After that it was Emma, drifting around the room in her diamond form, and using it best to her advantage. You noticed how she slipped in and out of it, before using her telepathic abilities to freeze people, paralyzing them. Then it was Piotr and a blonde man you didn't recognize. Piotr was knocking out people while the man used plasma blasts that traveled along the length of his arms before he directed them at Sinister's followers.
Laura was kneeling on someone, using her claws to slash and gouge a man's neck and chest. She was visibly enraged as she stood, flicking blood from her hands as the man beneath her succumbed to his injuries. She moved on to the next one, single-mindedly focused on making them suffer the same fate.
Wade was practically dancing around the room, spinning his katanas at a speed you could barely keep up with as he sliced through one person's midsection before sticking the other through someone's neck.
Finally, your gaze landed on Logan. His lips were pulled back in a snarl, his teeth bared as he fought through the room. He dug his claws into someone's back and ripped them out, blood spraying all over his front and face. Then he was on to the next person, cutting easily through their sides and picking them up on his claws, forcing them deeper. He seemed to realize Victor was part of the fight, because he only grew more frenzied as he threw himself at him, sinking his claws into Victor’s neck.
He was beautiful in his ferocity. Knowing that it was all for you left you breathless in a way you didn't know how to overcome. You had spent what you thought were weeks without Logan when it had only been a day. Logan had never left you. Logan was here, killing mercilessly all to save you.
They were all here to save you. You couldn't reconcile that thought with the thoughts that had clouded your mind once Nathaniel got his hands on you. But here they were, your family with a couple additions from the X-Men, rescuing you.
Sinister's henchmen were falling left and right, but you had lost sight of him. You knew the others could take care of his followers, but you wanted to find Nathaniel for yourself.
You wanted to be the one to kill him.
You let yourself go invisible, seeking him out. It wouldn't be over until he was well and truly dead. Someone knocked into you, and you instinctively turned, forming a forcefield around your fist and bringing it crashing right into the person's jaw. You felt the bone break beneath the force of your hit and the person clutched their jaw, howling in pain. Another hit and they were on the floor, their nose crushed and bleeding freely.
You turned and found Sinister near the blonde man, a taunting grin on his face as he spoke to the stranger. You made your way through the room towards them, forming spikes along the forcefield surrounding your fist and driving them up into someone's chest. You kept going, punching through bone and muscle until you could feel your forcefield break through to the other side. You wrenched your arm free, leaving the person to drop to the floor, lifeless.
You aimed a repulsion field at one person, watching as they got torn in half by it. You then formed a forcefield around another, inverting it so that the spikes were on the inside and the person was simultaneously punctured by hundreds of pinprick spikes.
You kept moving through the room, dodging and striking and shielding and pushing when needed. You only had eyes for Nathaniel, thinking that once he was gone, there would be no more threats to you or Logan or anyone else you loved.
There were only three more people between you and Sinister when you saw the blonde stranger let out a plasma blast from the middle of his chest. It was wild and less controlled than the ones that had come from his fists, but it seemed more personal. He advanced on Nathaniel, not letting up even for a moment, until Nathaniel was on the ground and still.
You were terrified for a moment that you had lost your chance, and you used a forcefield to shove the blonde back. He shot you a confused look, his arm coming up to aim a blast your way, but Wade swooped in, shielding you.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Havoc, she's the baby bird we're trying to get back to the nest. Don't hurt her." Wade turned to look at you and even with the mask on, you could see the relief on his face. "It is so fucking good to see you," he said as he approached you. You let him pull you into a hug and you figured he was just about one of the only people you would let touch you at the moment. The other two were across the room, taking care of the last of Sinister's team.
After a moment, you stepped away from Wade's embrace and kept walking towards your target. He was still on the floor, plasma burns marring his skin. You could see where his regenerative ability must have been trying to kick in, tissue attempting to connect again, but it wasn't working.
He locked eyes with you and you knelt at his side. You weren't sure why, but you reached out to grab his hand. He was real, solid, and there was no way he was getting up off the floor. Not if you had anything to do with it.
He laughed, the sound choked for a moment, as he offered you a bloodied grin.
"You were always meant to be special," he croaked, briefly squeezing your hand. You had a brief moment, thinking back to the world he created for you. Nathaniel comforting you and manipulating you and leaving breadcrumbs down a dark path for you to follow. "It won't be the last time you see me, Y/N. I'll always be with you," he promised, tapping a finger against the back of your hand.
You were aware of the others coming towards you. The blonde stranger in the X-Men uniform was watching the pair of you, but he wasn't intervening. The others seemed to know that whatever you were doing was important, even though you could practically feel the weight of Logan's stare on you.
There was a red light that had been flashing through the room and a siren that was droning on in the background. You didn't feel like you were in danger, though. There was something brewing deep within you, and it felt powerful. You felt indestructible as you clutched Nathaniel's hand with the knowledge that you were about to end it all for him.
In the background, a robotic voice came over the speakers. "Warning, status critical. Omega level threat detected. Retreat is advised." The message repeated over and over and you finally tore your gaze away from Nathaniel to consider the others in the room. They were all still, watching you, waiting for whatever it was you were about to do.
Nathaniel laughed again and began to dig his nails into the back of your hand. "I made you more," he whispered, staring up at you in something akin to awe. It was proprietary and possessive and proud.
The realization hit you and you nearly let go of his hand. You were the omega level threat. Once you freed yourself from your restraints, you realized Nathaniel’s deceit had been good for something, because you had felt powerful, indomitable, but omega level? You had never dared to dream of reaching that peak with your powers. The fact that you only had Nathaniel to thank for that left a sour taste in your mouth that had you craving his destruction even more.
"I made you mine," Nathaniel breathed with a pleased smirk.
You could feel rage descend and sweep aside any rational thoughts you had.
"I was never yours and now you're nothing," you hissed as you formed a forcefield around your free hand. It fit like a glove and you let the arcs of the field molded around your fingertips stretch out into spikes. You pressed it gently against his forehead, gifting him with a devious grin. "But really, thank you for the gifts," you sneered before you pushed. A scream built in your chest and escaped through your throat as you pressed in with your forcefield, tearing right through Nathaniel's skull to his brain. You closed your fingers into a fist before letting the forcefield expand, traveling through Nathaniel's body. You let it fill him out, occupying the space just beneath his skin, before you let it shatter, taking Nathaniel's insides with it.
You were coated in blood and viscera, but you didn't care. After everything, spending weeks in a hell of Nathaniel's making, he was dead by the powers he had so carefully helped you hone.
"Shit, girl," you heard Wade saying. "You've been holding out on us?"
You turned to look up at Wade, blinking at him, dazed.
Nathaniel was dead, but the feeling inside you didn't abate. You felt grief, anger, pain, confusion, betrayal, and a host of other emotions that had red still streaked across your vision.
You needed to direct it at something else, anything else, and while most of Nathaniel's followers had fallen, there was still someone else in the room. You got to your feet, dodging Logan's outstretched hand, focused on your new target. Remy had fled, likely sensing you wouldn't be happy to see him this time, but Emma had stayed.
She caught the look on your face and immediately shifted into her diamond form. You laughed as you reached out, forming a forcefield around her head.
"I've got an experiment for you," you started, letting it get smaller and smaller, tightening it around her neck like a noose. All you could think was that she had helped Nathaniel nearly destroy you. She had tried to take everything from you. "Which is going to happen first? Will the diamond finally crack, or will you run out of air? Let's find out."
You saw Emma's eyes go wide in panic, her hands coming up to uselessly claw at the forcefield.
Someone grabbed your shoulders and forced you to turn towards them. You were ready to strike out, but you stopped at the sight of Logan standing there.
He looked so lost, afraid, and you were worried for a moment that he was scared of you. The thought caused you to drop the forcefield around Emma, aware that she was leaving the room now that your attention was off her.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling a swell of emotions you couldn't bring yourself to embrace. Tears welled in your eyes and you finally let yourself fall into Logan's arms.
"It's okay," Logan murmured, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. "I've got you. I have you, sweetheart. It's okay now." He kept up the reassurances as you cried, sobs leaving you faster than you could try to contain them. Logan's arms tightened around you and for one moment it felt like it was just the two of you.
You were fighting every thought that Nathaniel had poured into your brain. Logan had never left you, but you still felt like you had been abandoned. Laura had never turned her back on you, but you still felt like she didn't want you anymore. Wade had never chosen Logan over you, but you still felt like you had been betrayed.
You were a mess and you didn't know how to make the warring thoughts in your head go away.
"Shh," Logan soothed. You could feel him trembling, likely holding himself back. "I've got you, Y/N. He's never going to touch you again. No one is every going to lay one fucking finger on you ever again. Not as long as I'm around."
It was everything you wanted to hear, but there was still a sick twist in your gut that told you it wasn't over. You were literally standing in the remnants of Nathaniel's body, but you felt like he was still in your head. You didn't know how to shake off the feelings he had instilled in you while trapped in his illusion, but you wanted to believe. You so desperately needed to know that Logan was sincere.
You pulled back enough to meet Logan's eyes. Unshed tears were caught in them and they were filled with hope, longing, relief, and fear. You knew Logan hadn't rested since you were taken and you wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed with him.
But you were terrified. What if you went home and you woke up to yet another fake world?
So, no matter how much you truly wanted to go home, you needed something else more.
"Charles," you rasped, watching Logan's expression fall. "Take me to Charles."
Logan looked like he wanted to argue. "Don't you--" he started before he was cut off by you shaking your head.
"Please," you begged, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and attempting to reel him in closer. "Logan, please, I need to talk to him."
"Let's get you to Charles, then," Logan agreed, his voice gruff as he pulled you in tighter. He placed a kiss to your temple before reluctantly letting you go.
The next couple of hours were a bit of a blur. Piotr was flying the X-Jet back while you sat with Logan pressed close to your side. He had his arm around your shoulders and you knew that it would be a while before he would let you out of his grasp. Feeling Logan against your side, warm and protective, went a long way towards convincing you that you were finally safe.
The blonde stranger turned out to be Alex Summers. You realized that was why Nathaniel had sought him out even when his lackies were being killed all around him. He had an obsession with the Summers family and he couldn't help but pursue it.
"Yeah," Wade started once the introduction had been made. He clapped a hand to Alex's shoulder, ignoring Alex’s eye roll. "We wanted the other brother, but he was busy saving starving orphans from a well or whatever."
Alex shrugged off Wade's hand and shot him an irritated glare. "You're an idiot."
"Don't I know it," Wade sighed before turning back to look at you. He dropped into the seat across from yours and reached out to pat you on the knee.
You nearly flinched away, but checked the reaction in time. From the way Wade quickly drew his hand back, you knew you weren't entirely successful.
"God, what I'd give to run that jackass through with my blades," Wade muttered, carefully watching you.
You didn't like feeling so fragile, but you knew that it would take you a while to heal from what Nathaniel had done to you.
"He's dead," you replied, knowing that it was mostly just to reassure yourself.
Even if you weren't quite convinced, you still had to try to fool yourself into believing it was true.
Once you got to the X-Mansion, Charles was waiting in the foyer. He offered you a warm smile before cocking his head to the side, silently requesting you follow him.
Wade and Laura stayed behind in the foyer with Piotr while Alex stalked off, grumbling something about getting some sleep. Laura let you go with a hug and Wade placed a kiss on your cheek, the fabric of his mask soft against your skin. Piotr simply gave you a solemn nod of his head.
"I'm glad you are safe, friend," he told you before Wade called him an 'ol' softie,' leaving you to follow Charles down the hallway leading off the foyer.
Logan trailed after you, leaving enough space between the two of you so you wouldn't feel crowded.
Charles stopped at a door before pushing it open, gesturing for you to walk inside. You realized once you got into the room that it was Charles' office. You opted to take one of the chairs in front of his desk while Logan stayed near the door. You glanced over your shoulder to see he was leaning up against the wall beside the door, his arms crossed and expression guarded.
You assumed Charles would take the spot behind his desk, but he came to a stop at your side. He turned his chair to face you and you gifted him with the same courtesy, meeting his stare.
Silence fell between the pair of you and you tried to figure out what you wanted to say. Finally, you settled on, "Thank you."
Charles dipped his head in a nod. "I'm glad Emma was there to give us your location. I'm afraid I wasn't able to find you with your forcefield up. They're quite unique," he mused.
You felt just the slightest bit of guilt for the way you had turned on Emma once Sinister was dead, but you couldn't go back to change your actions.
"Piotr mentioned that you wanted to talk to me," Charles prompted with a curious quirk of his brow.
"I know he's dead," you forced yourself to say. "Alex and I killed him, but I still feel like he's in my head. What if he left something behind? What if he's still in there waiting to strike again?"
Charles considered you for a moment before he reached out. "May I?"
You shot Charles' hand a wary look. You would rather let Piotr hit you full force than allow another telepath in your head, but you needed to know. You finally leaned forward, crossing the distance between your head and Charles' outreached hand.
There was a rush before Charles carefully started picking through memories. Between Nathaniel and Emma, you felt mentally frail, but Charles was being delicate.
"Oh, my dear," he whispered, dismayed at whatever he found. "You've been through quite an ordeal, haven't you?"
You didn't have to answer, because you knew your secrets and the darkness that had invaded your mind were all in full view for Charles to peruse. You were ashamed and humiliated and terrified that Nathaniel had tipped you over the edge and now you were falling, heading straight for rock bottom.
"I can assure you that Sinister no longer has any hold over your mind," Charles continued, still combing through your memories and thoughts. "If you like, I can try to suppress the memories," he offered, his voice calm in your head.
You wished more than anything that you could allow Charles to soothe the balm, but you were worried about letting anyone tamper with your memories. Even though Charles had the best of intentions, you wanted to know that everything in your mind was undeniably yours.
"If you change your mind or need me to take another look, all you have to do is ask," Charles said, carefully extracting himself from your mind.
"Thank you," you managed before standing. You turned to see Logan still watching you, a tiny spark of warmth taking root in you. "Let's go home," you told him, watching as a relieved smile crossed his face.
"Let's go home," he agreed, reaching out towards you as you got closer.
The following weeks were spent trying to convince yourself that you weren't still trapped in Nathaniel's manipulation. You didn't know how to rid yourself of the doubt, so you did your best to counteract that with the proof you needed to show you that your loved ones would never leave you.
You started by talking to Wade.
Logan and Laura had left to run errands, and right as they were out the door, Wade showed up on the doorstep. You knew they practically had a rotation going to make sure you weren't alone at any given time.
"Fancy seeing you here," he said as he stepped into the living room. "Ooh, are those cookies?" He reached out to grab one of the cookies Laura was addicted to.
So much had been on your mind that you weren't even sure where to start. You were staring at Wade, attempting to figure out what to ask first, when he stopped mid-bite to look at you.
"What's going on, baby bird?" He let himself drop down into a seat at the kitchen table before he snagged another cookie. "This shit is good," he moaned, stuffing one into his mouth whole.
"Wade," you started, sitting down in the chair across from him. "If Logan were to ever leave me, would you let me stay with you?"
Wade suddenly stopped chewing before setting down the third cookie he had swiped. "Did Logan say he was leaving you?" His voice was low and dangerous, cautious enough for you to know he was trying to grasp the situation while forming his plan of attack.
"No," you told him, hoping you were right. "But what if he did?"
"Good," Wade snorted before picking up his pilfered cookie again. "I'd chop his off his balls and serve them to him sunny side up if he ever did," he promised, tone serious.
"And I could stay with you?" You checked, wanting to assuage that fear.
Wade shrugged his shoulders. "I'm always up for a sleepover, sure," he agreed. "You'd have to share a bed with Blind Al, but I promise she won't bite. Well, maybe just once or twice," he amended with a thoughtful grimace. “Or, I could put some couch cushions on the floor and tell her that’s the bed, so we could share,” he added, gesturing between the two of you. “And then we could cuddle and tell each other all our secrets and it’ll be a fun little sleepover every night. Fuck, you should totally dump Logan so we can do that.”
You felt a surprised laugh bubble out of you, and it felt so fucking good. Trust Wade to bring you the levity you so desperately craved. “God, you’re an asshole,” you sighed, loving him all the more for it. You watched him eat another cookie, knowing Laura was going to be pissed when she got back and realized they were gone. "And what if you were mending things with Vanessa and didn't want another roommate? What then?"
Wade was silent for long enough that you started to worry.
"If I were to get Vanessa back," he started, voice uncharacteristically small yet hopeful, "then she knows what she's getting with me. And that includes you," Wade added, shooting you a wink. "We're a package deal now, baby bird, and Papa Deadpool would never leave you."
You didn't respond, instead choosing to push the box of cookies in Wade's direction, silently urging him to take more.
Next, you decided to talk to Laura.
She had been quiet around you, studying you from afar. Logan had told you she blamed herself for not being there to keep Gambit from taking you. You didn't want Laura to feel guilty, so you sent Logan out to get dinner and took your chance to talk to her without anyone else around.
"Gambit would have gotten me sooner or later," was what you said instead of any sort of platitude. "Nathaniel, Sinister," you corrected yourself, "wasn't going to stop. So, if it came down to me being taken or me being taken and you getting hurt, then I know which scenario I prefer. I'm glad you weren't with me," you told her, "because if anything had happened to you, I wouldn't have made it. I need you safe more than anything else."
Laura didn't say anything for a while. She kept absentmindedly running her nails over the fabric covering the couch, digging in until she caused a small rip. "I spent a really long time without a family," she finally got out. "And just when I thought I had someone, he died protecting me. I never thought I would have anyone who actually made me feel like I belonged somewhere, but then you found me. I was lost in the Void for a while and Cassandra's guys were bearing down on me, but then you showed up with Johnny." There was a fond little smile on her face, but she still hadn't looked at you since she started talking.
"You took me back to the hideout and you treated me as if I had been there with you all along. You looked out for me and protected me and loved me. And you still do all those things. Now, I have you and I have Logan and you've both given me a home. A family. And then you were gone and we didn't know if we would ever find you again. I was so scared," she whispered, finally meeting your gaze. "I can't lose you too."
You knew then that you had been stupid to believe, even under Nathaniel's influence, that Laura would ever pick someone else over you. You felt a smile break out on your face before reaching out to pull her into a hug.
"You won't lose me," you promised, reaching up to flick her ear.
Laura huffed out an amused little laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a relieved sob.
You had never found it hard to be vulnerable around Logan, but you were half-terrified at the thought of trying to broach the subject of his wife. It was your deepest fear and Nathaniel had exploited it perfectly. You had nearly lost yourself just at the thought of losing Logan. What if there really was someone out there, even if it wasn't his wife, who would make him leave you?
You were lying in bed, tucked close in to his side. Your head was resting on his chest and you were trailing your fingers up and down his stomach, trying to work up the courage to ask what was on your mind. You had already told Logan what happened to you while Nathaniel held you captive, but he didn't know just how much it had affected you.
"When Wade told me he could get the TVA to fix my universe, I wanted nothing more than to return there and have them all back again," Logan's voice was a low rumble in his chest, nearly soothing despite the way anxiety shot through you at his words. "And then it turned out that there was no fixing it. I am who I am because of those mistakes and those losses. I wouldn't be here without them."
You pressed a kiss to his chest, letting him know you were listening, but not willing to contribute just yet. Logan had an uncanny ability to know exactly what was on your mind, so you didn’t question why he chose the topic.
Logan's hand came up to press between your shoulder blades. He swept his hand down to the small of your back, urging you to press closer to him.
"You're nothing like her, you know." Logan was quick to press a kiss to the crown of your head when he felt you tense up. "You like different movies and songs and books. You love the rain and she was scared of thunderstorms. She would have hated Wade, but you've practically adopted him. I told you in the Void that I knew you weren't her and I've known that every second since. I love you," he admitted, his voice soft and nearly pleading. "I love you knowing that you aren't her, because I don't want to dwell on the past anymore. There's no changing the past and there's no bringing her back, but even if it was possible, I would still want my future with you. I will always want you."
You had carefully kept your gaze directed at Logan's shirt, but you finally lifted your head to lock eyes with him.
"I want my future with you too," you told him, aware that you had to let him know you were on the same level. Logan was used to fighting for what was his, but you knew that letting anyone see this side of him was special. He trusted you and you knew without a doubt that he loved you. It would be hard to erase the damage Nathaniel had done, but you knew that Logan, Laura, and Wade would all gladly take on the task of helping you heal.
"I'm not going to lose you again," Logan swore, his hand dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to press to the skin at the base of your spine. "And you're not going to lose me. We'll fight for you every day if we have to."
Your throat felt tight and your eyes stung, but you managed to rise until you could kiss Logan. It was a promise from you to him that spoke of every ounce of the love you had for him.
"And I'll fight for you," you spoke into the kiss, feeling the way Logan smiled against your lips.
It was easy, then, to lose yourself to Logan. Every touch was a vow to continue forward together and every kiss was sealing the deal set forth between you. You were no longer alone and now you would never have to be.
You had a team. A family.
And most importantly, you had Logan.
Author's Notes: Is Sinister dead? Was it a clone? We may never know. There is a part 5 and part 6 being planned out! I'm going to grant a request that a lot of people had for this series regarding bringing back two certain characters, so I really want to deliver on that. I'm also going to bring in another villain and other characters. So, if you liked this or you're interested in more, please let me know! I literally wrote 15.6k in the past week just fueled by y'all's support and it really does help me so much. I can't thank y'all enough. I haven't been this inspired in a really long time. 💖 (also my coworker called me baby bird the other day and I had a moment of blind panic where I was worried she somehow found this fic, because she knows I've written reader fic before.)
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@facelessfionna @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @whyam1heree @serendippindots @janilovecookies
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#wolverine#logan howlett#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x reader#imagine#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine imagine#x men#logan x reader#reader insert#my fic#when i'm with you i'm home 'verse
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Becoming a family
(Ok kinda a long one. Legit just pure fluff. I would make this man a dad immediately if i could!)
The snow began to fall softly as I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck, relishing the gentle bite of winter air on my cheeks. Seoul transformed overnight into a whimsical winter wonderland, a magical blanket of white covering the bustling streets and twinkling lights that draped the city like a fairytale. I glanced sideways at Mingyu, my heart fluttering at the sight of him. He was bundled up in a navy blue parka, his dark hair tousled in the wind, yet every now and then, a few strands managed to fall across his forehead, making him look all the more charming.
We had decided on this late-night walk not just to embrace the beauty of the first snowfall, but also because it felt like the last chapter of an unspoken story one that had begun weeks ago amidst stolen glances and tender, whispered conversations. As we strolled hand-in-hand through the quiet streets of Gangnam, illuminated by the soft glow of street lamps, I felt as if the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us in our own bubble of happiness.
“Do you think this is too cliché?” Mingyu joked, his warm breath visible in the cold air as he turned to face me. His eyes sparkled like the stars scattered across the night sky, and I could feel myself blushing, a quiet smile playing on my lips.
“Maybe, but it’s our cliché,” I replied playfully, tightening my grip on his hand. “And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
For a moment, we walked in comfortable silence, the sound of crunching snow beneath our feet accompanying the distant melodies of street performers welcoming the holiday season. With each step, I felt more alive, more at ease in his presence. Mixing the fresh, crisp air with the thrill of being with Mingyu, I had never felt so free.
The snowfall intensified, swirling around us like little shimmering dancers, and I couldn’t help but laugh as a few flakes landed on Mingyu’s nose. “Look!” I exclaimed, pointing the tiny ice crystals. “You have snow on your face!”
He mockingly pouted, wiping at the snow like a child, and I laughed even harder. The sound filled the air, punctuated by the occasional twinkle of distant bells, and I knew then that I never wanted this moment to end. Just as I was about to lean in for a quick kiss, the sound of excited chatter nearby jolted me back to reality.
A throng of fans had appeared out of nowhere, their delighted gasps filling the air, eyes wide with disbelief and joy. “Mingyu! Is that you?” one girl shouted, pointing at us.
Suddenly, we were at the center of attention. Mingyu paused, his brows furrowed as the realization of being spotted settled around us like a dark cloud. For a brief moment, I felt a spark of anxiety. Would the reality of us being seen change everything? But as I looked into his warm brown eyes, filled with the same mix of surprise and excitement, I couldn’t bring myself to feel afraid.
“Yes, it’s me!” he called out, his voice echoing with a charming zest that made my heart sing. There was something mesmerizing about how he embraced his fans, how he beamed with pride and love for them. It was what endeared him to so many, and it only deepened my feelings for him. I felt a serene joy knowing that even in our unexpected moment of vulnerability, Mingyu was still the same genuine person I had come to adore.
As the girls screamed and took pictures, I stood slightly behind him, feeling both nervous and exhilarated. I never expected to be part of his world, and now, suddenly, I was at the very center of it. Whispers cascaded around us, the energy electrifying. Scrolling through the social media site later, I’d find countless posts speculating about our relationship the seventeen heartthrob was officially off the market.
Mingyu turned back to me, brushing his thumb gently across my hand as the crowd began to disperse, realizing they may have interrupted a precious moment. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.
I nodded, attempting to shake off the nervousness of the sudden press of attention. “Yeah, just a little overwhelming.”
“You know they’re gonna talk,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
“I’m sure they’ll concoct some wild stories,” I retorted, grinning back.
That night, we walked longer than intended, navigating through beautifully lit parks and over quiet bridges until the world seemed to relax around us. We talked about everything and nothing our hopes, dreams, and silly little things we loved about each other. Despite the chaotic interruption, there was an undeniable connection that wrapped around us, stronger than the chill of the winter air.
When I returned home later that evening, my heart was still fluttering, dreamlike and impossibly buoyant. The glow of the lights around Seoul lingered in my mind, reminding me of our unforgettable walk. I drifted to sleep that night, imagining the happiness woven into our moments together.
Then everything changed. The next morning, something felt off. Dizziness washed over me as I prepared breakfast, and a deep-seated sense of anxiety settled in the pit of my stomach. I brushed it off as post-excitement jitters from my late outing with Mingyu, but something urged me to take a test.
As I stared at the small window revealing those stark two lines, everything came crashing down my heart raced, and for a brief moment, I felt time freeze. I was pregnant. Tears welled in my eyes, a mix of joy, fear, and confusion flooding my senses. How do I even begin to tell Mingyu something so monumental, so life-altering?
I could already envision how his eyes would light up with disbelief and then pure joy; he had always said that family mattered most to him. But everything felt so sudden, so unexpected.
The beautiful night we shared now felt like the beginning of an entirely new chapter. I knew there would be challenges ahead, but as I held that realization close to my heart, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope. This wasn’t just a romance that blossomed amidst secrets; it was a love story paving the way for an adventure, one I hoped Mingyu and I would navigate together.
That morning, I could barely hold my phone without my hands trembling, but I knew I had to tell Mingyu. My mind raced with a thousand ways to break the news, but none of them seemed right. How do you casually tell someone that their entire life is about to change? That our lives were about to change forever.
I decided to keep it simple and heartfelt. Mingyu had always loved silly, sentimental moments, so I leaned into that. I grabbed a plain white mug from my kitchen cabinet and a black sharpie, my heart beating fast as I began scribbling across the ceramic surface.
On one side, I wrote, Best Boyfriend Ever, and on the other side, World’s Best Dad.
I grinned as I imagined his reaction. It was cheesy, but it felt perfect for us. I also added a little doodle of a baby on the bottom, just for an extra touch of fun. With the mug in hand, I paced the kitchen for what felt like hours, waiting for him to arrive. I had texted him earlier, asking if he could stop by, playing it off like I just wanted to see him.
When he finally knocked on the door, I felt like I might faint. My heart leapt in my chest as I opened it, and there he was, looking as handsome as ever with his familiar, boyish grin, bundled up in a grey sweater that made his broad frame look even cozier.
“Hey you,” he said, stepping inside and pulling me into a tight hug. I breathed him in, letting his warmth melt away the nervousness that had been building all morning.
“Hey,” I whispered, my face buried in his chest.
“You okay? You seem… different,” he said, pulling back to look at me, his eyes searching my face. “Everything alright?”
I forced a smile, trying to contain my excitement and nerves. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just well, I made you something.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, and followed me into the kitchen. I handed him the mug, watching closely as he turned it over in his hands, his eyes lighting up as he saw the first side: Best Boyfriend Ever.
He chuckled, giving me a teasing glance. “This is sweet, but I already knew that.”
“Turn it over,” I urged, my voice shaky with anticipation.
He turned the mug around, and I saw the exact moment it clicked. His eyes widened as he stared at the words, World’s Best Dad, then his gaze shot back to me. For a second, he was frozen, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to form words but couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
“No way,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “No way. Are you…?”
I nodded, tears already welling up in my eyes. “Mingyu, I’m pregnant.”
For a split second, I worried about how he would react would he freak out? Would he be scared? But all my fears dissolved when his face broke into the brightest, most beautiful smile I had ever seen. His eyes shimmered with tears, and before I could even say anything else, he pulled me into his arms, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe.
“I’m gonna be a dad?” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re gonna have a baby?”
I nodded against his chest, tears spilling over as I laughed through my sobs. “Yeah, we’re gonna have a baby.”
Mingyu pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands cradling my face as his thumbs wiped away my tears. “This is… I can’t believe it. I’m so happy,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
I could see the love, the joy, and the overwhelming emotion in his eyes, and it made my heart swell. He kissed me softly, over and over, as if he couldn’t get enough, and I melted into him, feeling a warmth and a peace I had never known before.
But then, just as quickly, his expression shifted. He pulled back and gave me a serious look, his hands dropping to my belly as if he were already protecting the life growing inside me.
“Are you okay? Have you been feeling sick? You need to rest more,” he said, suddenly serious. “Do you need anything? We should go to the doctor—no, wait, I’ll make you tea first. Sit down, you shouldn’t be standing too much.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly he shifted into overprotective mode. “Mingyu, I’m fine. Really. It’s early, and I’ve been taking care of myself.”
But he was already bustling around the kitchen, grabbing a blanket from the couch and wrapping it around me before insisting I sit. “I just want to make sure you and the baby are safe,” he said, his brow furrowed in concern.
“I know, and I love you for it,” I replied, smiling as he fussed over me. “But there’s something else we need to talk about.”
He paused, looking at me with wide eyes. “What? What is it?”
I grinned, feeling a mischievous excitement bubbling up. “We need to tell the rest of the band.”
Mingyu’s eyes widened again, but this time with excitement. “Oh my god. How do you think they’ll react?”
“I think they’ll be thrilled, but we need to tell them in a fun way. You know, something memorable,” I said, already brainstorming ideas.
Mingyu lit up at the thought. “Yes! Let’s do it! We can tell them all differently.” His enthusiasm was contagious, and soon we were coming up with a plan.
For Seungkwan, we decided to get him a shirt that said Uncle Boo in big, bold letters. Mingyu figured he’d be so caught off guard he might actually cry.
For Jeonghan, the plan was to wrap a baby pacifier in a fancy box and give it to him, saying it was a “VIP gift” for him. I could already imagine the look of confusion that would spread across his face before he put the pieces together.
For Joshua, we planned to take him out for coffee, casually dropping the news in between sips like it was no big deal, just to see how long it would take him to process.
We spent the rest of the afternoon planning every detail, laughing and crying in equal measure as we imagined their reactions. Each moment felt like a new step toward something incredible, something bigger than either of us had ever dreamed.
By the time Mingyu left that evening, his protective instincts had kicked into full gear. He made me promise to call if I needed anything, even if it was the middle of the night. I watched him leave with a heart so full it felt like it might burst, already counting the minutes until I could see him again.
That night, I lay in bed, my hand resting on my stomach, imagining what the future would hold. It was still overwhelming, still terrifying at times, but with Mingyu by my side, I knew we could handle whatever came our way. This was the start of our greatest adventure yet, and I couldn’t wait to see where it would take us.
A few days later, Mingyu and I put our plan into action. The anticipation had been building ever since we decided how we’d break the news to the rest of the band. I could tell Mingyu was beyond excited, though he tried to play it cool, his nervous energy spilling over as we prepared for each of the reveals.
The first to arrive was Seungkwan. He burst through the door, as usual, full of energy and his signature dramatic flair. “I’ve brought snacks!” he announced, holding up a bag of chips and candy. He tossed them on the counter, then plopped down on the couch without missing a beat. “So, what’s the big deal? Mingyu said I had to come over, but he’s been all cryptic about it.”
I exchanged a glance with Mingyu, and he grinned. He handed Seungkwan the gift bag we had prepped earlier a simple white bag with Uncle Boo written across the front. Seungkwan furrowed his brow as he took it, peering inside with curiosity. When he pulled out the shirt and read the words, it took a moment for the realization to hit.
“Uncle Boo?” Seungkwan muttered, confused. He looked up at Mingyu and then at me, still not piecing it together. “What is this supposed to mean?”
Mingyu could barely contain himself, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Think about it, Boo.”
I watched as Seungkwan’s eyes flickered from confusion to shock, and then, in one swift moment, everything clicked. His jaw dropped. “Wait… no… Are you serious?!” His voice pitched higher than I’d ever heard, and he scrambled to his feet, his hands flying to his face. “You’re pregnant?!”
I nodded, tears already threatening to spill as Seungkwan’s eyes filled with emotion. He rushed over and hugged me so tightly I almost lost my balance. “Oh my God! You’re having a baby! I’m going to be an uncle!” He stepped back, staring at me like I had just given him the most precious news in the world. “I’m going to spoil this baby rotten! You two have no idea what you’ve done. I’m going to be the best uncle ever!”
Mingyu laughed, pulling Seungkwan into a hug as well. “We know, Boo. You’re going to be the most extra uncle, and we love you for it.”
As Seungkwan wiped away tears, I could already sense his protective side kicking in. “You need to sit down. Do you need water? I’ll get you some water.” He hurried off to the kitchen, his voice trailing behind him. “And no more stress! From now on, you’re not lifting a finger, do you hear me?”
Mingyu and I exchanged a look, laughing softly. “One down,” he whispered, and I nodded, already feeling the wave of emotions that were sure to follow.
Next, Jeonghan arrived. Mingyu greeted him with a casual, “We got you a VIP gift, hyung,” and handed him the fancy box. I watched as Jeonghan slowly untied the ribbon, his face full of suspicion.
“A gift? What’s the occasion?” Jeonghan asked, smirking as he pulled off the lid. When he saw the baby pacifier, his expression shifted from amused to completely baffled. He picked it up, dangling it between two fingers, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
“A pacifier? You guys are weird,” he said, shaking his head.
Mingyu just crossed his arms, trying to suppress his laughter. “Why do you think we gave you that?”
Jeonghan blinked a few times, his eyes darting between the pacifier, me, and Mingyu. Then, his eyes widened with realization. “Wait… No way. Are you…?”
I nodded, grinning through the tears that had started to form again. “Yeah, Jeonghan. I’m pregnant.”
His face softened immediately, and a slow, genuine smile spread across his lips. “No way,” he whispered, stepping forward to give me the most tender hug. “You’re going to be a mum?” His voice cracked, and I could tell he was holding back tears. “I’m so happy for you.”
For the next few minutes, Jeonghan just stood by me, his arm protectively wrapped around my shoulders, as if he were already taking on the role of the older brother. “You guys better take it easy. She needs to rest, and I don’t want to hear about you doing anything crazy.” His protective instincts kicked in faster than I expected, and I had to smile.
Soon after, Joshua showed up for coffee. Mingyu and I sat across from him at a quiet little café, where the Christmas lights twinkled in the windows. Mingyu casually dropped the news while Joshua was mid-sip, and I watched in amusement as Joshua froze, the mug hovering just inches from his lips. He stared at us, processing the information in complete silence for a solid ten seconds.
“You’re… having a baby?” he finally asked, his voice soft and reverent. When we nodded, Joshua set his coffee down and gave me a gentle smile. “That’s incredible. You’re going to be amazing parents.” His words were so full of warmth and sincerity that I felt my heart swell. Joshua, ever the calm and collected one, didn’t react with the same fanfare as Seungkwan, but the deep emotion in his eyes told me everything. “Whatever you need, I’m here,” he said quietly, reaching across the table to hold my hand. “This is going to be such a special journey.”
As the days went on, we broke the news to the rest of the band, each moment filled with more joy and more emotion than I ever imagined. Vernon’s eyes practically sparkled with excitement, and he immediately asked if he could be the “cool uncle,” while Woozi’s face turned bright red as he offered us a quiet congratulations, though I could see the pride in his eyes.
Hoshi, of course, made it his mission to outdo everyone else with his excitement. He nearly tackled me in a hug, lifting me off the ground, despite my protests that he shouldn’t be so rough. “I’m going to teach the baby all the best dances!” he declared, already imagining how he would choreograph future performances with our little one.
But it was when Seungcheol found out that I completely broke down. He had always been the leader, the protector of the group, and when we told him the news, his reaction was everything I didn’t know I needed. He didn’t say anything at first, just pulled me into a long, tight hug, his chin resting on top of my head. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “You’re going to be an amazing mum. You know that, right?”
I nodded, unable to stop the tears that flowed freely now. “I hope so.”
Seungcheol pulled back, wiping at his own eyes before smiling at me. “We’re all going to take care of you,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “From now on, you’re family, and we protect our family.”
It wasn’t long before the entire group had fully embraced their new roles as overprotective “uncles.” Everywhere I went, at least one of them was by my side, whether it was Seungkwan insisting I eat more or Seungcheol making sure I didn’t carry anything heavier than a glass of water. Mingyu, of course, had taken his protective instincts to a whole new level, constantly checking in on me, making sure I was comfortable, and catering to my every need.
There were days when the attention was overwhelming, when I felt like I couldn’t breathe without someone asking if I was okay. But through it all, there was an overwhelming sense of love, of support, of family. Each of them had wrapped me and the baby in a cocoon of care, and I knew without a doubt that this child would grow up surrounded by more love than I could have ever imagined.
As I lay in bed that night, Mingyu’s arms wrapped around me, I thought about how lucky I was. This baby hadn’t even arrived yet, and already, they had so many people who loved them so many people who would be there, every step of the way.
“I think this is going to be the best adventure yet,” I whispered, my hand resting on my stomach.
Mingyu kissed the top of my head, his voice soft and full of wonder. “I know it will be.”
Nine months passed in a whirlwind, and true to their word, the entire band treated me like an absolute princess. Each day brought a new wave of attention and affection, whether it was Seungkwan bringing me homemade snacks, Woozi composing lullabies for the baby, or Seungcheol taking on the role of personal chauffeur, insisting I didn’t exert myself too much. Even the most mundane activities were taken over by one of the boys—they handled everything with a mix of humor, seriousness, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility.
Mingyu, of course, had been the most attentive of all. He doted on me constantly, running out in the middle of the night to satisfy every odd craving, massaging my feet, and making sure every appointment with the doctor went smoothly. But underneath his excitement, I could tell he was nervous. The thought of becoming a dad thrilled him, but the weight of it all made him anxious too.
We were down to the final stretch, and the nursery was ready, the baby clothes neatly folded, and all the hospital bags packed. Everything was set, and yet nothing could have prepared us for that moment.
It was late at night well past midnight when I woke up to a sharp, twisting pain in my lower abdomen. At first, I tried to dismiss it as Braxton Hicks, something I’d grown used to over the last few weeks, but when the pain came back stronger and more intense, I knew something was happening. My heart raced, adrenaline coursing through me.
I nudged Mingyu, who was snoring softly beside me. “Mingyu, wake up.”
He stirred, groggy and confused. “Hmm? What is it?” His voice was thick with sleep.
“I think it’s time,” I whispered, my voice shaking with both excitement and fear. “The baby’s coming.”
Those words hit him like a shockwave. He shot out of bed, his eyes wide with panic. “Wait, what? Now? Are you sure? Oh my god okay, okay, okay what do we do first? The hospital! Right! We need to get to the hospital!”
I watched in amusement as he stumbled around the room, trying to pull his pants on while simultaneously grabbing the hospital bag and his phone. He was muttering to himself the entire time, his usual composed demeanor completely gone in the chaos. “Where are my keys? What about the car seat? Do we have snacks? What if we forgot something?”
“Mingyu, breathe,” I said, trying to keep myself calm despite the increasingly sharp contractions. “We have everything ready. Just get me to the car.”
He nodded frantically, still fumbling with his phone. “Right, right. The car! Let’s go.”
As soon as we were in the car, he began speeding through the quiet streets of Seoul, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. Every few minutes, he would glance over at me, his eyes wide with concern. “Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot? Oh my god, you’re so strong. We’re almost there, okay? Just hang on.”
Between contractions, I managed a weak smile. “Mingyu, calm down. I’m okay… just focus on driving.”
By the time we reached the hospital, Mingyu was practically vibrating with energy. He jumped out of the car, running to my side to help me out, though his hands were shaking so badly that I had to reassure him again. “I’m fine, really. We’re going to be okay.”
Once inside, the nurses quickly got me settled into a room, and Mingyu, who was still visibly freaked out, finally stopped pacing long enough to sit beside me. He grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly as I breathed through another contraction. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “We’re about to meet our baby.”
It was in that moment despite the chaos, the pain, and the panic that a sense of calm washed over me. This was it. We were about to start the next chapter of our lives, and I couldn’t have asked for a better partner by my side.
But just as I was beginning to settle into the rhythm of labor, Mingyu’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced down, his eyes widening. “Oh no. I forgot to tell the guys!”
He quickly answered, and I could hear Seungkwan’s voice on the other end, frantic and high-pitched. “WHERE ARE YOU GUYS? WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR NEWS!”
Mingyu fumbled with his words, trying to explain the situation between checking on me and answering the nurses’ questions. “Uh, yeah, we’re at the hospital. She’s in labor. It’s happening now.”
Apparently, that was all Seungkwan needed to hear, because within minutes, the entire band was blowing up Mingyu’s phone with messages and calls. They wanted updates, details, everything. And then, of course, they all announced that they were on their way to the hospital.
“What? No! You don’t need to come wait, okay, fine!” Mingyu blurted out, clearly overwhelmed by the chaos already erupting on the other end of the line.
Sure enough, not even an hour later, I heard the telltale sound of commotion in the hallway. The boys had arrived, and from the sounds of it, they had caused quite the stir at the nurses’ station. Voices carried through the corridor as Seungkwan tried to charm his way into the delivery room, while Seungcheol attempted to explain to a nurse why they needed to be there right now.
When the door finally swung open, the chaos came spilling in with it. Seungkwan, Hoshi, Seungcheol, and Vernon all burst into the room, breathless and wide-eyed, each of them talking over the other in a rush to see how I was doing.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” Seungkwan asked, his eyes darting around the room as if expecting something catastrophic to be happening. “Do you need anything? Do you want me to sing to calm you down?”
Hoshi, ever the performer, chimed in. “I brought a playlist of relaxing songs! We can play it while you give birth.”
Vernon looked genuinely concerned, his brow furrowed as he glanced between me and Mingyu. “Do you need water? I’ll go get some water.”
Seungcheol, of course, was the only one trying to maintain some semblance of order. “Alright, everyone, calm down. Give them some space,” he said, though his own voice was strained with emotion. “This is a big moment.”
I couldn’t help but laugh through the pain, grateful for their chaotic love and concern. “Guys, I’m fine,” I managed to say, though my voice wavered as another contraction hit. “It’s just… a lot right now.”
Mingyu, who had been pacing again, stopped and came to my side. His face was flushed, and his eyes filled with both awe and terror. “She’s doing amazing,” he said, as much to the guys as to me. “But… maybe you should all wait outside until it’s time.”
Reluctantly, the group agreed, though not without promises to be right there the moment the baby arrived. “We’ll be in the waiting room,” Seungcheol assured me, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Just yell if you need anything.”
As they left, the room grew quieter, and I turned to Mingyu, who was now holding my hand with both of his, his gaze locked on my face. “You’re so strong,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “I can’t believe we’re about to meet our baby.”
The hours blurred together in a mixture of pain, anticipation, and excitement, but through it all, Mingyu never left my side. His hand was a constant source of comfort, his words of encouragement carrying me through the toughest contractions.
And then, finally, the moment came. After what felt like an eternity, the cries of our baby filled the room, and everything stopped. Time seemed to freeze as the nurses placed the tiny, squirming bundle in my arms. I stared down at our baby, tears streaming down my face, unable to comprehend the depth of love I felt in that moment.
Mingyu was beside me, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch the baby’s tiny fingers. “We did it,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “We’re parents.”
As I looked up at him, his eyes filled with tears, I knew that no matter how chaotic, how overwhelming this journey had been, it was all worth it. We had created something beautiful something that connected us in a way that nothing else ever could.
In the hallway, I could hear the muffled cheers of the band as they celebrated the baby’s arrival. Even though they weren’t in the room with us, I knew they were part of this moment, part of this family we had built together.
We were a family now a chaotic, loving, overwhelming family. And as I held our baby in my arms, surrounded by Mingyu’s love and the band’s excitement just outside, I knew we were exactly where we were meant to be.
It’s hard to believe how much time has passed. Our little Lia, once so tiny and delicate in my arms, is now a walking, talking whirlwind of energy and sass. At three years old, she’s already mastered the art of wrapping everyone around her tiny fingers, especially her dad and the rest of the Seventeen boys.
Lia has them all under her spell, and she knows it.
“Mingyu-ya!” her little voice calls from the living room one morning, her pronunciation still adorably toddler-like but clear enough to demand attention.
Mingyu, who had been washing dishes in the kitchen, immediately drops everything at the sound of her voice, sprinting toward her as if his life depended on it. “Yes, princess?” he asks, kneeling down in front of her with a grin that shows just how much he adores her.
She scrunches up her face in mock seriousness, crossing her arms over her chest. “Daddy, why is my elephant not dancing?” She points to the stuffed toy on the floor with a pout.
I stifle a laugh from the doorway, watching as Mingyu immediately picks up the plush elephant and starts doing a ridiculous dance routine with it, making exaggerated noises as if it’s singing along. Lia bursts into giggles, her laughter infectious as she claps her hands in delight.
“See, I told you! Daddy can make the elephant dance,” she declares proudly, as if she had orchestrated the whole performance. And, in a way, she had.
It’s not just Mingyu she has wrapped around her little finger, though. The entire band falls over themselves for her.
There was the time we visited the studio and Hoshi had come running over with wide eyes after Lia demanded he help her “roar like a tiger” while she was playing with some animal toys. Hoshi, ever the dramatic performer, immediately crouched down and gave her the loudest, most exaggerated roar. The two of them then spent the next hour roaring back and forth at each other, while the rest of the band just watched in amusement.
“Hyung, you’re seriously getting schooled by a toddler,” Vernon had teased, but even he wasn’t immune to Lia’s charms. Within minutes, he’d been roped into playing “jungle” with them, crawling around on all fours while Lia rode on his back, giggling uncontrollably.
The best part? Lia’s bossy, sassy side was almost always on full display, especially when she felt things weren’t going her way. One day, she had the audacity to sit Seungcheol—the Seungcheol—down and tell him very seriously, “No, no, Uncle Cheol, that’s not how you build a castle. You’re doing it all wrong. Watch me.”
Seungcheol had looked utterly baffled but also completely charmed. “Oh, really? I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time?” he asked, genuinely listening as she showed him how to properly stack the blocks.
“I think I need some lessons,” he muttered to Mingyu later, laughing at how Lia had taken control of the playtime.
Even Woozi, usually so serious and focused in the studio, couldn’t resist Lia’s pull. Whenever we visited, Lia would inevitably waltz in, head held high, demanding to sit on his lap while he worked. Woozi, who didn’t like being interrupted during his creative process, was a complete pushover when it came to her. He’d let her press a few keys on the piano, giving her an approving nod as if she had composed a symphony, while she smiled up at him proudly.
“You’re my assistant now,” he’d say in his deadpan tone, but there was always a glint of affection in his eyes as Lia “helped” him with his work.
And of course, there’s Mingyu, who has turned into the most doting dad I could have ever imagined. He’s completely smitten with Lia he’s always been loving and protective, but when it comes to his daughter, he’s on another level. I often catch him watching her with the softest expression, like he can’t quite believe she’s real.
One night, after Lia had been particularly bossy during bath time (“No, Daddy, you’re not washing my hair right! Use more bubbles!”), I found Mingyu sitting on the edge of her bed, brushing her hair gently as she fell asleep. He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and whispered, “I love you, my little princess.”
It’s moments like these that make my heart swell. Seeing him so in love with our little family it’s everything I could have hoped for.
There was also the infamous “band meeting” Lia had hosted when she decided she wanted to put on a fashion show with her princess dresses. She marched into the living room, hands on her hips, and announced to the guys, “Everyone, listen up! I need you to watch me. Sit here!” She pointed to the couch, directing them as if they were her loyal subjects.
Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Joshua sat dutifully, clapping every time Lia twirled around in one of her dresses, their cheers loud enough to rival an actual concert. At one point, Joshua even got up and pretended to be a fashion show announcer, describing each of her outfits in detail, much to her delight.
Seungkwan had tried to outdo him by grabbing a feather boa and twirling it around as Lia’s “assistant.” “You’ve created a monster,” he’d joked to Mingyu, but the proud dad just shrugged, grinning ear to ear.
“She’s perfect,” Mingyu would always say, his voice filled with pure adoration. And I couldn’t agree more.
One of the funniest moments came just a few weeks ago. Lia had overheard me talking to Mingyu about a show Seventeen was preparing for, and in typical Lia fashion, she decided that she needed to be involved too.
“Dad, I need to be on stage!” she said with a serious expression, tugging on her dad’s shirt.
Mingyu, ever the indulgent father, crouched down to her level. “Oh yeah? What would you do on stage, princess?”
She looked at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ll sing! And dance! And you can dance behind me.”
At the next rehearsal, true to her word, Lia showed up in a sparkly dress, marched right onto the stage where the guys were practicing, and demanded to have her moment in the spotlight. The band had stopped everything to let her perform her own little routine, complete with a very enthusiastic rendition of the ABCs and a dance that mostly involved spinning in circles. The guys cheered like she was performing in front of thousands, and Mingyu’s eyes shone with pride the entire time.
Every day with Lia is filled with moments like these moments where she’s the center of attention, where she commands the room with her sass, her bossiness, and her irresistible charm.
And through it all, Mingyu and the rest of the band are completely wrapped around her finger, never hesitating to indulge her every whim.
I love watching them together the way Mingyu’s face lights up every time Lia walks into a room, how the guys drop everything when she demands their attention, and the way our little girl has filled our lives with so much joy and laughter.
As I sit back and watch Mingyu helping Lia color outside on the balcony, her little legs swinging from the chair, I realize how blessed we are to have this family. Mingyu is in love with every moment of fatherhood, and I can see it in the way he looks at her his world revolves around her and, by extension, around us. The band, too, has become more than just uncles to Lia.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#svt fluff#seventeen#svt carat#seventeen mingyu#svt#svt imagines#seventeen smut#kim mingyu x reader#mingyu smut#mingyu fluff#mingyu x reader#mingyu#seventeen seungkwan#seventeen joshua#seventeen wonwoo#seungkwan#seventeen x you#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff
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How To Get Roughly 50 Notes On An Original Writing Post And Possibly Net A Single Reader
I had someone ask today how I get people to click through and read my writing, and I'm realizing that I've never actually made a post all in one place of everything I do to get a new piece of short fiction off the ground... so here you go! How to get (some) eyes on your work, even if it is not published anywhere of interest and you don't have a marketing team behind you.
The #1 thing is presentation. You want to get people's attention, and once you have it, convince them to keep paying attention. Fortunately, people tend to be both reasonable and predictable, which means all you have to do is follow The Formula.
(original post link)
Here's the formula from the above post broken down:
[giant horizontal title card, preferably animated to catch the eye] OR [a few tasteful parallels, if you're good at parallel posts]
TITLE (linked to where you can read the piece) / wordcount
a quote that is representative of the tone, themes, prose style, and/or the "promise of the premise"
A longer pitch, featuring the overall subject of the piece (transsexual reality TV drama), any comp titles (Detransition, Baby), the main draw (in this case, watching trans people be awful to clueless cis people), major themes (performance), and any other promises you'd like to make (food romance and tigers). You can see that the quote I chose delivers on the promise of trans people intellectually outperforming cis people-- if I were a reader, I would be more likely to trust that the rest of the pitch was accurate based on that assurance.
If you have any positive reviews on your piece, say so. If it has won any awards or contests, say so. If your work has made people cry, Doja Cat - Say So. Always. Generally speaking, more personal and more detailed is better, but keep it to one or two people-- e.g. "when I gave this to my S/O to read he shot milk out of his nose so far I had to go clean under the couch" or "my favorite review of this piece is the reader who said they read it chapter-by-chapter under their covers because they wanted it all to themself." This should be one sentence.
Depending on where the story is published, what you usually promote, etc., it may be worthwhile saying the story is free. Use your judgment on whether the reader can tell.
I also like putting my links at the bottom so someone seeing this on a friend's dash can easily track me around the 'Net. They make me look more professional (I now include a link to my website) and they visually balance the post, in my opinion. This post also happened to have some additional links for bonus content.
This is not as high stakes as it seems. I'm not 100% happy with the pitch here, and I'm not 100% happy with the graphics I've used in other cases. These are some bones that help to sell the piece even when the details aren't as sharp.
REBLOGGING
When is the last time you read something the first time you saw it on your dash? I schedule reblogs of all important posts at least twice over the next 2-3 days, often three times so I can get the morning/afternoon/evening reblog. If your followers tend to be more active at certain times, go ahead and use those. In the past I've intentionally scheduled posts for times I knew more popular mutuals were active, and it has paid off!
I also schedule a reblog for a week and a month and sometimes even a full calendar year out, because I know there is going to be that person who tags the piece '#to read' and instantly forgets about it, only to get excited when they see it weeks later. I am very often that reader. The goal is to catch people when they're ready to read immediately, and this is a game of chance.
Every so often, I go through my entire #writing or #important writing updates or even just #popular tag(s) and queue two dozen posts before shuffling my queue to redistribute matters. This keeps my older work circulating, ensuring new readers get a chance to see older pieces and giving those older pieces another shot at dashboard space. (More on #popular later.) This sounds like a lot, which is why you have to space everything pretty far apart. Fortunately, this is the world's best site for cool things to reblog. I guarantee you that you can find something new you love to post in the meanwhile.
COPING WITH FAME
The post above is what I, a published author, consider "doing well" for a post about my writing on Tumblr. As of October 10th, 2024, over two years after its initial posting and over five years into my posting doggedly about my original fiction, it has 77 notes. More than half (43) are likes. Around half of the reblogs are me promoting my own work or the same very sweet person dutifully reblogging me every time I do so. Glancing through the reblogs now, I know of four people whom I can confirm have read it. Presumably, there are more who are completely silent and have never interacted with the post whatsoever. Genuinely: wahoo!! I am so grateful and happy for the attention and reception of my work.
This is the number one thing I suggest: focus on what you have, and not what you lack. Imagine your post from the perspective of an outsider: even one reblog means you convinced that one person to spread your art! How cool is that! This is also good advice because moping is simply not helpful; it will not get you more reads. (And no, neither will guilting others. Kill that vent post in your head!)
GETTING FOLLOWERS
I don't have that many followers. Of the followers I do have, people are very unpredictably active. When I hear about other people's follower counts I am consistently surprised, because people with half of mine will have fans and haters the likes of which I could not possibly dream of. I follow 500-follower folk who post "I ate a strawberry today" and get 6 asks ranging from "Wow I respect you so much for eating that strawberry" to "I'm going to come to your address at [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] and shove bananas down your throat for hating on my favorite fruit."
I point this out to establish three important things. 1) Be grateful for what you have (in my case, 0 anonymous hate asks about fruitpinions), 2) followers have far less impact on interaction than one might think, and 3) followers don't engage with the things you might like them to.
Think about yourself. Are you more likely to reblog a photo of a cat in a pumpkin (alright, here) or something advertising fifteen minutes' worth of writing, which could be, for all you know, bad? Or, for that matter, by a person you should not like to support? Reblogs on generically interesting things are 'safer' (unfortunately) than reblogs on art, and it makes perfect sense that people are skittish around the latter. People don't often reblog things they haven't read, and nobody can reblog every artpost on their dash. Having someone else put it there, however, is incredibly powerful—someone's vetted this post as Worth a Reblog, after all. Having more followers allows for much more of this.
(Followers don't guarantee any one sort of interaction, but having more of them is rarely bad. Rarely.)
Across my most popular posts, one theme becomes very obvious: people like things that apply to them or their blog. I try to post writing advice/opinions/memes every so often, because I know I have a loyal base of writerfolk who like to see that from me, and it's "easier" to reblog than my writing. This is simply the nature of the universe. I used to pretty frequently go into the #writeblr tag and check out what was recently popular so I could figure out how to serve the same base, and from time to time it worked.
You're welcome to examine the list of #writing posts that made it to 100 notes, because each tends to have a notable reason behind its success: a reblog with an exceptionally good review, a contest win, a wordcount that lends itself to pasting the whole thing in one go.
(Posts about my book's release are a notable exception, in part due to Blaze and in part due to my absolutely relentless flogging of their reblog buttons during the ~year of promotion. Also in large part to a dedicated circle of friends who passed the post around nonstop! Thank you so much!!)
A lot of people will tell you to attempt covert reciprocal promotion. You know—reblog a lot of stuff, in the hopes that people will reblog yours. If I could change one thing on Tumblr, it would be this: the culture that quietly encourages disingenously interacting with other people with a secret True Goal in mind. (On the autism website.)
Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not do this. If you comment on other people's work, do it because you're happy to do so. When I released Paper Tigress, I went through everybody else who responded to the same prompt and read their work, because I had the day off and I was curious. This has led to Paper Tigress having more comments on Reedsy than one of my contest winners, and even outranking the shortlisted story in the same prompt category. However, this would have been a waste of my time if I did not genuinely enjoy reading the other stories. I read 80+ stories, taking several hours, and gained 30 comments from the venture (half my comments are my responses).
Crucially, I do not promote other writers' work on Tumblr in the hopes of them reading or boosting mine. This is the #1 tip I see thrown around that I viscerally disagree with. While, again, I am grateful for engagement with my work regardless of the context, I do not want people suffering through my work in the hopes that I will promote them. I work a full-time job, and my reading calendar is perpetually overbooked, including with work by my absolute best of friends. Even if it wasn't, I think it would be quite insulting if I were posting works in the hopes that someone would choke it down like medicine. I post what I think is good so that people can read and enjoy it. If you are not enjoying it, I do not want you to feel as though you have to read it. My aim is to give to others what my favorite authors have given me, which is most certainly not A Bad Time Spent Being Dishonest In The Hopes Of Getting Something Back. You have better things to do with your time. Please be honest.
CONCLUSION
Realistically, the readers I have, I gained through being a published author for five years promoting my behind off on Tumblr, the least forgiving social media for promotion. People like it when you have a book they can buy, especially if it has Goodreads reviews that make it look like you have been vetted for them. Many people who follow me have read only Something's Not Right and nothing else. (Many people who follow me have read everything but Something's Not Right.) I have posted dozens of pieces on Tumblr and Wattpad (and AO3). I gained a small number of readers writing and posting fanfiction for the Locked Tomb Tri(?)logy, even though I marketed it absolutely terribly.
Just keep writing. Keep writing, keep posting, and keep making sure everyone who follows you knows you write. And keep writing because you want to. There's no better advice than that.
#writeblr#writeblr advice#writeblr tutorial#writeblr tips#writeblr community#writing advice#writers on tumblr#important writing updates#txt
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Dulcissima I Marcus Acacius x Vestal!Reader I Chapter I
! This Fic contains major spoilers for Gladiator II ! Proceed with caution !
Spoiler-Free Summary: Set before and during Gladiator II. General Acacius finds himself entranced by a highly valued priestess of Rome – A Vestal Virgin. Both have taken vows that make sure their paths may never cross. Until they do.
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x F!Vestal!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 12k+ Tags: Secret Relationship, Vestal Virgins, Religious Guilt, Gladiator fights, Gladiator II compliant (more or less), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Ancient Rome, Age Difference, Slow Burn(ish), Injry, Kissing, Historical Inaccuracy, (Attempted) Sexual Harassment, More tags to be added
AO3 I Series Masterlist I Masterlist
notes: ! last major spoiler warning for gladiator II below the cut !
guys, where do we even start. i can't live with his end so i am rewriting it. enjoy <3
vestal (vigins) - priestesses of vesta, virgin goddess of Rome's sacred flame (details will be explained later in the story) dulcissima - sweetest (fond nickname) domus - a roman house posticum - a servant's entrance cubiculas - roman bedrooms
You didn't think it would lead to this.
A beloved General, a just man, kneeling in front of his opponent in the sand that covers the arena floor, the cloud of its dust settling onto the two men facing each other. The particles glisten in the scorching heat of the relentless sun above you, just as violent as the battle you have just witnessed.
It is not something you have ever truly enjoyed, hearing the last gasp of a dying man, seeing the moment a blade enters his stomach. Watching the winner shout with glee. Watching the dead body be dragged away.
But sitting in the specifically reserved area near the Emperors is good custom. Custom keeps one alive.
Custom is also hard to uphold when the man your heart is set on is fighting to keep his life mere feet below you.
You see Acacius’s lips move, see the pleading look in his eyes.
And then a soft thud echoes through the Colosseum as Lucius drops his sword and falls to his knees across from the General.
You wipe your hands furiously on your white gown, trying to keep your hands from sweating as your heart pumps wildly in your chest. You wonder what would happen to it if the sword would've found Acacius’s torso instead. Or his neck. Maybe it would've just given out, unwilling to beat any longer if his was not doing the same.
“No! Kill him! Soldiers!” The Emperor's cries reach you even through the uproar of the crowd, which is unwilling to accept any match that doesn't end with death. Rome always wants death.
“Archers!” He yells and you hold your breath as they draw their bows in unison, tips pointed right into the middle of the arena where the two men are still kneeling.
“Move,” you whisper under your breath, almost as if you believe Acacius can hear you. But he doesn't. He stays on his knees, upright, seemingly waiting for the arrows to hit. An archer to your left releases his arrow with a slight tremor in his arm–and misses by inches. It hits the sand behind Lucius instead, a small cloud of dust rising around it. But your eyes are drawn to the gentle movement of the General as he raises his arm.
“Hold.”
He doesn't have to scream the command. But his deep voice still travels throughout the Colosseum with urgency. The voice of a man who knows how to instruct his soldiers, how to make himself heard even on the battlefield, in the face of death. Even if it's his own that is imminent.
His reminder rings out in your head.
“How many of them will be loyal to you?” – “All of them.”
The archers hold their fire, no arrows following the first one. You turn your head to catch a glimpse of the twin Emperors, both practically jumping up and down with fury as they yell at the archers, at the guards, at anyone who will listen. “We'll have his head! We'll have the General's head for this! How dare he defy us–”
The bows are lowered as soldiers march into the arena, roughly placing cuffs around both men's hands. Acacius doesn't try to intervene with their orders this time, slowly rising to his feet and letting them lead him back towards the gate, though you don't miss the small stagger in his step. It makes a wave of worry wash over you.
“We’ll have your head, General! You will not live to see another battle! You will not even live to see another sunrise!”
Your blood runs cold at that and you stand up abruptly, your head bowed as your feet carry you back into the outer corridor of the Colosseum, a light breeze greeting you as the angry yells and curses from inside the arena grow more quiet.
You have given everything for Rome. Your vows, your service. You will not give him.
***
The moon is hiding away behind a large cloud when you slip out of the house and onto Via Nova, the sounds of cicadas and the occasional bark of a dog filling the night. Having fulfilled your duties for the evening and claimed that the scene at the Colosseum gave you a dull headache, you retired early. When the sounds of the other women in the house died down, you took your chance.
It isn't far to the domus Acacius and Lucilla reside in, your own quarters located just below Palatine Hill. On a clear day, you can see the stone walls of his house from the garden you use to grow herbs.
After about fifty feet, you turn, following down a more narrow path that allows you to travel in the shadows. A few minutes later, it leads you to the posticum of the noble home, an entrance off to the side, used mainly by the servants–or visitors unwilling to be seen. Acacius has taken to keeping it unlocked whenever he knows you are coming. You pray that it still is.
A light push against the wooden door is all it needs to swing open with a small creak, making you hold your breath as you place one careful foot in front of the other. The last thing you need is to alert any guards to your nightly visit.
But you’ve learned how to walk in the shadows and which streets to avoid. You know that the second step from the bottom creaks if you put too much weight on it. It feels like the stone walls of his house are silent witnesses to the amount of time you have spent tip-toeing to his quarters after everyone else has retired for the night.
You distantly wonder if they have allowed him the comfort of his own bed as you enter the atrium, already turning right towards the cubiculas–and pause when your gaze flickers around the open space.
Acacius is hunched over on a chair, a thick metal cuff sneaking around his ankle, the chain fastened securely around one of the columns that line each side of the open room. Your breath catches in your throat as you notice that he is wearing nothing but his red tunic, the gold details on the edges already worn and fading. He shivers in the cold night air, his arms wrapped protectively around himself. He looks so different from how he did in the arena just mere hours earlier. Smaller, somehow.
When you step forward, his head turns, eyes widening as you step into the dim light and recognition flickers over his face. “Dulcissima.”
You try to give him a smile but you're sure it fails miserably. Instead, you lessen the distance between you, passing the fountain in the center. “Acacius–”
“By the gods, what are you doing here?” He whispers, his soft brown eyes looking up at you. He sounds scared, his voice quiet but rough. Up close, you find that not only have they left him chained up in his own atrium but they have also not tended to his wounds. Caked blood and dirt decorate his skin, a part of his hair matted down with something that you hope is the latter.
You ignore his question. “They sentenced you to death.” No matter how hard you try, you can't keep your voice from shaking.
“They sentenced me to death the moment they learned about the plot,” Acacius mumbles quietly. “You know this. It was always going to end this way.”
“Where is Lucilla?” You ask quietly, casting a quick glance around yourself, almost expecting her to step forward from behind one of the columns. Even if you know you have nothing to fear from her. In fact, she may be the only person who understands what you are currently feeling.
“She is with two of the men. On their way to Lucius,” he admits, turning his body a bit more into your direction, which immediately forces a small grunt out of him. You suck in a sharp breath, though you're not sure whether it's in response to his injury or to what you just learned.
“He may already be dead.”
Acacius glances up at you with a look you can't quite place. Then he nods. “He may be.” He shakes his head ever so slightly. “But he has friends in the Colosseum. You forget whose son he is.” The General pauses again, his eyes searching your face as his whisper becomes more urgent. “Why are you here?”
A small sigh escapes you as you take two more steps towards Acacius. “Because you forgot who I am.”
It takes a few moments before recognition flickers in his eyes–and he understands. That as a Vestal, you may pardon with a touch of your hand. Even slaves. Even those sentenced to death.
He has seen you do it, once or twice. When prisoners called out to you as you passed by them with the jug of holy water. Begged you to place your palm on their head, to allow them to live. And they did. But this? This is different.
“No.”
“Marcus,” you say softly. “It’s the power they have given me, the role they have cursed me with. I may as well use it for good.”
“Dulcissima, they will know,” he protests, wincing slightly as he shifts his weight onto his legs and stands up. “They will know about us. They do not even need proof to put you on trial.”
“I do not care if they put me on trial,” you blurt out, taking a step forward just as he takes two back.
“Do not lay your hand on me,” he warns, raising his hand not unlike the way he did in the Colosseum earlier.
“Marcus. Please.” You’re begging more than asking. You don't think you could take it. A Rome without him.
His back hits the marble column and he curses under his breath just as you reach him. The chains meant to keep him from escaping turn into chains that make sure you can save him. Even if he does not want saving.
The tremor that has been a constant in your hands since seeing Acacius fall to his knees in the arena has disappeared, your fingers stretching slightly as you stand on tiptoes to reach for his head.
Soft, dark curls greet the tips of your fingers and you sigh in relief, mumbling a prayer as your hand comes to rest on his head like a crown. A shuddering breath leaves him, his eyes cast downward. Tension bleeds from his body, his shoulders sagging. A softness his soldiers never get to see.
It is a reminder of the nights you’ve spent together, always hidden and always too short. With whispered promises and silent prayers to Vesta to forgive you for loving him. You do not know how not to. And you don't ever want to find out.
But the way you bend upward, lips meeting his forehead–it simply comes more naturally than it should.
notes: thank you for reading! feel free to follow me on here or twitter/ao3 for updates on the next chapters! also, i would love to hear yalls thoughts so feel very free to leave a comment <3
! when commenting or reblogging, please make sure to hide spoilers from others !
#marcus acacius#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius / reader#marcus acacius / you#marcus acacius x you#general acacius#general acacius / you#general acacius / reader#gladiator II#gladiator 2#pedro pascal fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#hurt/comfort#vestal virgins#ancient rome#softpascalito
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not necessarily a request but in response to your “i’ll save you a seat” post, i’d like to imagine scenerios where you (reader) gets to the door before xiao and open it and he just—malfuctions—error error!! and he silently closes the door infront of you only to open it again for you!! maybe this even turns into some strange competition where you and xiao fight to open the door for one another lol (xiao will always win because he just closes the door again and then opens it)
ANON DKSOEMLSLS I DIDNT EVEN THINK OF THIS BUT HE TOTALLY WOULD
spiritual successor to this (i suggest reading first)
as for the rest of them…
wanderer puts his hand over the edge of the table only to accidentally smack you in the head. hey, it’s not his fault! at least, that’s what he tells you when you’re rubbing the welt on your forehead. you bent down so suddently that he had no choice to move quickly. should you mention that he probably did more harm than the table, he’ll grumble that he would have picked whatever you dropped up for you.
diluc double flips over your pillow. you left to get up, he flipped it over as a sleeping diluc does and then he does it. again. maybe he was extra tired or thought you got up again. to be honest, you didn’t really know of this habit of his until the mistake. you come back to a warm pillow and snoring diluc, and turn it over yourself. this may or not may wake up diluc, and he may or may not flip it over onto the warm side yet again.
kaveh reminds you if you have everything but he should honestly save a reminder for himself. once or twice or three times he’s left the house without his keys, his work, his shoes (that was a strange occasion and he still didn’t realize for a solid ten minutes). you’ll have everything you need to get through the day, but kaveh will have to make a pit stop back at the house to pick up his own forgotten items.
childe makes you too many snacks at once. when he brought over the first one, you thanked him with a genuine smile. the second time, you still had some of the first snack left, but thanked him anyways. the third time you got a little concerned; the fourth… well, you at least finished the first snack by now. you have to tell him that it’s okay! you don’t need a fifth right now! (he already has it ready to go—you’ll find him eating it alone in the kitchen).
zhongli goes into debt. listen, he’s still getting used to this whole mortal thing, and honestly, not having access to infinite mora definitely blows. he’ll find some gift he absolutely must buy for you only to realize he has only one golden coin left on him. later that night, he’ll still give you that gift, and if his smile looks somewhat strained, it’s because he had to get a certain someone to pay for it.
kaeya’s brain kind of short stops when he sees you get to the tavern before him. oh, you’re already sitting down, look at that. that’s fine and all, he wants to be the one to save you a seat. so you’ll look over when kaeya still hasn’t joined you and find him sitting at another table alone. that’s strange, what’s he doing there? you walk over to him and he pulls out the chair for you, and so your seat for the night as once again been saved.
alhaitham will get annoyed if you fall asleep during a good part of the story. like, yeah, that’s point of him reading to you but, really, did you have to fall asleep during the best part? he has two options: gently shake you awake to finish the chapter, or let you sleep like intended. his choice will depend on what book he’s reading, but if he wakes you because it’s a research paper and you just got to the oh-so important findings, feel free to take the paper of his hands, drop it on the floor, and go back to sleep. he can continue in the morning.
#genshin impact#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact x reader#genshin headcanons#genshin impact fluff#genshin fluff#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin impact x you#wanderer x reader#scaramouche x reader#diluc x reader#childe x reader#kaveh x reader#kaeya x reader#alhaitham x reader#xiao x reader#zhongli x reader#wanderer headcanons#diluc headcanons#childe headcanons#xiao headcanons#zhongli headcanons#alhaitham headcanons#kaveh headcanons#kaeya headcanons
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Celebrity Crush
Hi guys!
This is a new one, but it's kind of a suit from this story. A bonus chapter, I don't know how we can call it.
I hope you will like it :)
TW : Ona Batlle being perfect as ever.(I'm so in love)
Summary : You're a worldclass singer in an interview after you left your group because your manager and staff were asshole.
Enjoy!
______________________________________________________________
After leaving your group's separation, you quickly felt better. The depression that awaited you flew away like a cloud of smoke once the stress and pressure that were constantly on your shoulders stopped existing. Even when you were on trial against your old record company, your former bosses and manager, you felt good. Because even if you ended up paying millions, it meant you were free again. And that, in your eyes, was priceless.
You must also admit that being able to be with your girlfriend on a daily basis is probably the main reason for your well-being. Ona has always been the most important person in your life and since your return to Barcelona, you have trouble being separated from her. You gladly accompany her to her training sessions and you will also happily get her when she has finished. You go to each of her games as well, even if they are on the other side of Spain or in another country. You have so much time to catch up and your wear your jersey with her name with pride.
You were afraid at first that having you around all the time would end up bothering Ona, but she seems as happy to have you back as you are. At first, you didn’t know what to do while the footballer was training, so you cleaned up your house. As the days passed, you started composing and playing music again, for fun. Your apartment may no longer shine like a mint, but it has the advantage that your housekeeper stops staring at you when you don’t put their products in the right place.
It's only two years later that you decide to release a music album, entirely produced by you. You don’t want to experience the same kind of problems as before and you’ve decided that you’re never better served than by yourself. The songs are mostly love songs related to Ona to be fair.
When you looked for musicians, you asked the guys but only Ricardo agreed. You didn’t blame the other two, even if you now use the thing to annoy them when you see them again and you start bickering like fifteen year olds.
You choose your interviews yourself and it's you who plans your concert schedules, arranging to place them at times or places that don't make you miss any match of Ona. It's sometimes more difficult for her to come see you in concert, but these being the same each time, you don't hold it against her. You have an agent, though, who is no one but your big brother, who you have complete confidence in, and who knows how to be a watchdog when it comes.
After dropping Ona off at practice today, you head to the centre of Barcelona for an interview. You initially hesitated before accepting, but when sold to you as a way to also talk about homosexuality that is forced to hide in the music world, you quickly accepted.
"Drive carefully. I will try to listen to you" Ona promised before kissing you tenderly caressing your cheek.
"All right. Be careful Onita."
Ona smiled at you and left the car, not without kissing you one more time when you whines when you saw her leaving your car.
The report that is broadcast before your interview attracts all your attention and you are happy that the subject is approached in this way. The way they educate young people on the subject also pleases you very much. During the ad page and the beginning of your interview, you send a quick message to Ona and your mother, telling them that the interview will soon begin.
The headphones on your ears, you smile at the journalist who is interviewing you. She is a well-known and respected journalist in Spain and you are happy that she is the one doing your interview.
"So Y/N, hello! How are you?"
"I’m fine thank you and you?" you answer with a smile.
"Well, I’m glad you’re here."
You smile and nod. She informed you that the interview was being filmed to be broadcast online on the radio’s website, but don’t forget that most people can’t see you. So you also thank her orally.
After discussing the report and general views, she gently guides the discussion on your own case, as agreed. You naturally asked Ona’s permission to talk about her before accepting the interview.
"And so in your case, it was your record company at the time that prohibited you from mentioning your girlfriend?"
"Yes. In truth, I was not allowed to talk about my homosexuality at all. It was the record company that started releasing subtle information to make the fans believe that something was going on between Juan and me"
"And you were already with your girlfriend when it all started?"
"We’ve been together since we were 17 and I’ve never kept the truth from them" you shrug your shoulders.
"It must have been hard for you, but also for her, I guess."
You swallow nervously, the difficult moments through which you passed coming back in memory. Playing nervously with your fingers, you quickly shift your attention to your interlocutor.
"Very. Honestly, I’m very lucky that she stayed. Many other people would have given up on me I think."
The reporter smiles at you before moving on to another question. You knew this kind of moment would come and you were prepared. But that doesn’t mean it’s nice to talk about it anyway.
"I can see people reacting to what you said and some people find it unbelievable that your former employers have not managed to separate you" she comments looking at a screen next to her.
"Oh, actually they almost succeeded. But that’s precisely when I decided to stop everything. I could see my life without music, but I couldn’t see my life without Ona" you say timidly while smiling.
The journalist smiles back at you and winks at you before grabbing a small pile of cards next to her.
"Thank you for your sincerity. Now a quick round of questions on anything and everything, all our guests come through. Are you ready?"
"Ready" you answer, a little more relaxed.
You laugh softly when she throws a jingle, before you ask the first question.
"What is your favorite season?"
"Summer" you answer. The summer break would be fairer, considering Ona’s busy schedule.
"Your favorite food?"
"The fideua of my mother-in-law, sorry Mama I love you"
"If you had to live in a city other than Barcelona, which one would it be?"
You give yourself a few seconds to think, quickly listing the places you know in your head.
"Um… Maybe Palma de Mallorca"
An hour’s flight from your families, the little island is a place you enjoy. So why not. In addition, you need the sun to live properly. Even if you enjoy London, you don't see yourself living there permanently.
"Real Madrid or FC Barcelona?"
"Barcelona, obviously" you answer with a smile.
"The first thing you do in the morning, only the answers that can be listened by our youngest ears are allowed" jokes the journalist, making you laugh.
"Turn off my girlfriend’s alarm clock I guess"
You never understood how Ona got up and got to practice on time during your absence. She never hears the sound of her alarm clock.
"Ok and last question. Who is your celebrity crush? Ban to mention Ona's name"
You laugh again and roll your eyes.
"Okay then… The Number 22 of Fc Barcelona Femini is kind of cute" you answer with malice, mentioning Ona's number.
It makes the journalist laugh and you smile while shrugging your shoulders before answering.
"What? You saw my girlfriend? There’s no way I’d mention another name"
This is where the interview ends and you warmly thank the whole team for their kindness. After posing for a photo for their social networks, you still stay with them to talk a little bit. At this time, Ona is probably coming home, Salma having offered to bring her back for once since you were not sure to arrive on time.
When you go out, some fans are waiting for you and you take a few minutes to talk to them, sign autographs or take pictures. When you finally get to your car, you answer Ona’s message that she is home to tell her that you are coming too.
"I’m home mi Amor!"
Ona appears smiling in the entrance after a few seconds and you don't hesitate to pass your arms around her to squeeze her against you. It’s only been a few hours but it’s pretty incredible how much you missed her. You smile while feeling the comforting smell of her shampoo and smile even more when she drops kisses in the hollow of your neck.
"How was the training?" you ask her while playing with her long hair.
"Very good. Only three games left and we’re on vacation"
You smile and nod. Barcelona are already sure to win the championship and you saw their third straight victory in the Champions League a few weeks before.
"I can’t wait"
You have already planned your vacation, three weeks under the sun of Hawaii. You know how tired Ona is and you intend to do everything possible so that she can recover properly. What she doesn’t know is that you plan to propose to her there and that almost everything is already organized.
Ona turns you away from the last details you have to do by putting her lips on yours, waking the butterflies in your stomac.
"Come, I ordered food. I took sushi as I didn't know what time you would arrive"
"It’s perfect" you assure her, letting her train you in your kitchen by the hand. "Like you" you add with a smirk, lightly squeezing her bum.
Ona laughs and turns around to face you and put her arms around your neck.
"What a sweat talker and a charmer" she whispers against your lips before kissing you again, making you shiver.
"I’m so in love with you it’s disgusting" you smirk a few minutes later when you’re sitting in front of your plate.
"Oh yeah? Well it seems to me that you also appreciate the number 22 of FC Barcelona?"
Sitting in front of you, Ona has eyes that sparkle with mischief and you laugh by pointing with one of your sticks.
"You can’t blame me. She’s amazing."
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Same to You
Aftermath Affair Pt. 5/Finale
(Oscar Pisatri X Reader + Ex! Lando Norris X Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Formula 1
Requested: Nope, happy 5 years! (So this was supposed to come out on Saturday last week but I fucked up the schedule lol)
Warnings: VERY heavy use of language and violence (reader gets trapped between Lando and a wall and reader shoves Lando against the wall), cheating, Song referenced: Same to You by The Vamps
POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)
W.C. 1576
Chapter Summary: First race of the season, first race after the breakup, and first race hard launching. What could go wrong? Oh right! A teammate!
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
<-Part 4
~~(^Both from Pinterest)
Six months. Six amazing months later, and you were ready to go back on the track. Oscar was also so different compared to Lando and how he wanted you at the track. Lando wanted you there to keep up appearances. You had to dress the part, and despite how uncomfortable you were, it was the only way Lando would agree to have you in his garage.
Nope, not Oscar. He wants you to have fun, do whatever you want, and take you anywhere you want in the paddock. When you first got together, he asked you almost every week if you were interested in attending a race. He always said he could get you a pass, just give him the word and he’d do anything for you.
This time was the Australian Grand Prix. Season opener, one of your favorite tracks, and Oscar’s home race no less. You wanted to be there for this. You let him know plenty of time in advance, and Oscar may or may not have already gotten you a pass, hoping you would agree to go to his home race.
Now, being on the track, you never wanted to leave again. Whether it was the atmosphere or vibe of Australia or not, you were feeling the buzz around the paddock. You wanted to always be a part of it. You were thriving in it!
Given that it was Thursday, you had walked in with Oscar’s hand tightly grasped in yours, but he had to go for the media, panels, and interviews. He said you were free to go practically anywhere, and he showed you around the McLaren Hospitality and his driver’s room before his PR manager came calling for him. He said he would have his phone on him the whole time just in case you needed him or got lost.
You found a little corner table on the second floor of the hospitality building that faced a large window, overlooking the pitlane. You grabbed a small plate of food and your favorite drink as you sat comfortably in the corner and opened a book. You should have known the peace would not have lasted long.
“Hey, what’s up?” A voice broke your concentration. Looking up, and of course, it was Lando.
“Hi Lando,” You greeted with a tight-lipped smile. “Nothing much, how about you?”
“Same,” Lando replied quickly, pulling out the second seat from the table to take it. “I heard you moved on. How’s that?”
“It’s going great,” You smiled a little more laid back, thinking about Oscar. You put a bookmark in your book as you set it down, thinking this could be a kindhearted conversation. “He’s amazing.”
“I think you’re lying,” Lando smirked as he leaned forward on the table, his face just inches away from yours. You looked at him confused, which had him chuckling ominously. “I have to smile really. You packed up your things and drove for miles, but you really couldn’t get that far away from me.”
“What the hell are you saying?” You scoffed in disbelief as you leaned back as far as humanly possible from him. “Are you trying to say that I’m with Oscar to be closer to you?”
“All I’m saying is, would someone who hated my guts willingly be with someone so closely related to me?” Lando teased as he chuckled more. He leaned back and laughed a little louder, garnering a few stares. “Be honest, you miss me already. Does he love like I do? Touch like I do? Does he hold you like me? Make you feel free?”
“You can shut up, Lando,” You seethe, moving to gather all of your things in haste.
“You’re hurrying because I’m right,” Lando gloated as he stood up as well and moved to follow you when you grabbed your things to make a run toward Oscar’s driver’s room. Unfortunately, Lando decided to put his body between you, and the only door you knew would take you to Oscar’s room. “Open your eyes and you will see that everything you do with Oscar, you wish it was with me.”
“You’re lying to make yourself feel better,” You pressed as you tried to go around him. He just blocked your body and turned to cage you between him and the wall. “Lando, let me go.”
“Babe, does it feel the same to you?” Lando whispered as he leaned in and breathed against your ear. You had to bite back the gag as he leaned his head down to your shoulder as his breath fanned over your neck. “Tell me, does this feel the same to you?”
“No, it feels better,” You hinted, knowing you meant one thing, and Lando took it another. You felt him chuckle against your skin as he dropped a hand from the wall to rest on your waist and you knew that was your chance.
You grabbed his wrist, spun his arm around, and pushed him against the wall, locking him in place. You pushed his head against the wall to keep him in his place as you ranted.
“Lando Norris, did you ever think I would stoop that low to get back with you? I’m not the one who fucked up here!” You raised your voice a bit which gained attention from some of the McLaren staff. One of which you recognized as Oscar’s PR manager, who took off, probably to find Oscar. “You were the one who cheated on me. You were the one that ruined a 7-year long relationship because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. And to make it worse, you introduced her to other drivers as your girlfriend as if I never existed!”
“Ok listen to me-” He tried to cut you off.
“No!” You shouted, “I’m done listening to you! Oscar is the most caring, attentive, and supportive person I know. You have nothing on him. He is everything to me, and you are nothing. Do you understand me, Lando?”
“That’s a bit harsh,” Lando mumbled in a mocking way and that just pissed you off even more.
“Oh, almost like forcing your teammate to endure all the sounds that come with cheating?” You mocked back with a large smile. “Yeah, you wanna talk about harsh, take a look in the fucking mirror. You have always said shit to me about anything and everything I did. Oscar encourages me to be myself. Here, I’ll give you this, I’m sorry that when we first got together, I didn’t have a backbone. I can say it now. You hate the way that I walk? Shit outta luck. You hate the way that I talk? Get over it. You hate the way I dress? Fuck off! The world doesn’t revolve around you! I don’t revolve around you! It’s not my fault you cheated on me with a sponsor no less, and it’s not my fault that you can’t accept it. Go bury your sorrows in Ava Small’s pussy for all I care.”
With that, you gave him one last shove and turned around, taking a deep breath before facing the crowd. Most of the McLaren crew were smiling at you and giving you reassuring nods, but one in particular captured your attention. Oscar Piastri, your knight in shining armor, stood a little closer than the rest of the group as if he were ready to jump in for your defense at any given second. His face was in awe as you slowly walked up to him, holding out your hand. That seemed to snap him out of his thoughts as he shook his head a bit and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to you. At this moment, Lando Norris was the furthest thing from your mind as you gazed at Oscar. He pecked your lips lightly before leaning his forehead against yours.
“That was hot,” Oscar whispered as he peppered kisses around your face while you giggled and gently pushed him away. He finally stopped, wrapped his arms around you and left one last kiss on your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Your therapy’s been working.”
“It’s not just therapy,” You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “It’s you. I wouldn’t have any of the confidence to stand up to him without you.”
“Don’t discredit yourself,” He played off, “You’ve come a long way in a year.”
“And a lot of that is thanks to you,” You pressed as you poked Oscar’s cheek before leaving your hand resting on his cheek. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”
“I have an idea,” Oscar whispered as he pulled away slightly. You looked to the side to see all of the McLaren crew pull out their phones, and when you looked back over to Oscar, he wasn’t where you left him. No, he was kneeling before you, holding out an unopened ring box. “I’ve been thinking-”
“If this is a proposal, yes,” You replied excitedly, not needing to hear anything or see the ring. If Oscar had a whole speech planned (which he did!), he could share it in private since you two would more likely prefer to keep that moment between you two.
“I really worried for nothing," Oscar joked as he opened the box and gently slipped the ring on your left ring finger. It was a perfect fit. Just like you and Oscar.
~
Tags- @barcelonaloverf1life
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
#bad268 aftermath affair#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#lando x reader#oscar x reader#lando norris#oscar piastri#lando norris imagine#oscar piastri imagine#mclaren#mclaren f1#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#part 5#bad268#ship268#thing268
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Chapter 12 Progress [08/APR]
Hey gang, I've started posting updates on my Patreon now that I'm actually making some damn progress on this chapter, so I figured to cross-post the latest update here as well. These are usually for members only but it's been sooo long, the ones I'm posting in April are all going to be for free 🙏🏼
This progress report focuses on a specific section of what I'm working on regarding CH12 and, more specifically, Kham.
About Kham
This one is turning out to be a bigger branching route than I expected. For those not in the know, I described in my dev sneak peek from last month how the opening scene of CH12 will involve the Crown dealing (or not dealing?) with Kham. It will be a bit of a culmination of all the choices you've made regarding Kham so far: did you inform her of the assassins in CH5, did you decide to trust her/were you honest with her in CH6, and did you choose to ask her to mediate for you in CH10?
Particularly that last decision will lead to the biggest difference in scenery: if you asked for Kham's help, you will get a scene at the palace involving her and the peri trader. If you decided not to ask her, however, the story will instead see you investigating the peri trader personally.
Initially, these were both two very clear branching paths with two very clear-cut consequences, but I decided it made more sense to offer additional variation. Choosing not to ask for her help with the peri trader will NOT lock you out of being able to ally with her... but the circumstances of it will be quite different compared to a player who has trusted Kham from the start and asked for her help.
You can, of course, decide not to ally with her on either branch as well, if you don't think she can be trusted. In which case, you should be prepared to make an enemy out of her: there's no fence-sitting on this one, and there won't be any chances to make an ally of her later on in the story. Similarly, if she turns out to be untrustworthy, and you make an ally out of her now, there won't be any takebacksies later... so you might end up stabbed in the back.
This is your one and only shot, so choose wisely.
About D and X
I'm currently working on the branch of the Crown dealing with the peri trader without Kham's involvement, and it's a pretty fun variation. There are some undercover detective vibes going on, and it's nice to write a scene set in the city as opposed to the palace for some variety. Though I've also dabbled in the route with Kham's help, and the Crown really flexes their royal authority in that one. Can go no wrong with either option in terms of entertainment, imo!
What's also been fun to explore further is how the main LI's subplot is starting to affect things in the story. I do have to note that for the branching sequence with the Kham choice, there's a bit of a spotlight on D and X since those two were gone for a whole chapter, so they get to spend some special time with the Crown in the first half of CH12. But R and A will be back for the rest of it!
I'll give you some D and X route crumbs this week since I've been chipping away at that one first, and hopefully I'll also have some on R and A next time:
For people who aren't on D's route, they'll get to find out something special about D that D romancers became privy to in CH11. It doesn't change much for the Crown on those routes, just some D lore you may enjoy and an opportunity to grow your friendship further.
As for D romancers, you all may or may not get a potentially devastating sequence depending on how your Crown handled their little court scene in CH11. If you managed to protect D, then all the better, but if you couldn't stamp out the court's protests... well, let's just say your Crown is going to have to be the one to inform D of any bad news.
Plus there's that damned letter to worry about. I'm sure that won't become any kind of problem at all.
For people who aren't on X's route, things are peachy! Honestly, all of the drama that happens for X romancers is not a big deal for everyone else, since X's romance with the Crown is the thing that causes them to act out. X friendship players are coasting in that regard, you just enjoy seeing X get to be their usual menace self.
For people who are romancing X, people on their low route might start noticing something different about them. Their actions in the high and low romances will be the exact same, but the vibes on the low route will be off, to say the least. You can still recover to a high route! But it will require having to pierce through that mask X is so fond of wearing...
High romancers: kick back, relax, and enjoy your upcoming romance content guilt-free LMAO
That was it for this week!! I wish I could give you an estimated release window, but I've been wrestling with this chapter, and I'm frankly deeply afraid I won't be able to finish it before summer rolls in 💀
Please keep your local struggling writer in your thoughts and prayers, and as always thank you for your patience and support 🙏🏼
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May I ask the software you use to write?
Congratulations on getting so much done!
Thank you so much. And, of course.
I use the Reedsy Book Editor for all of my writing projects, and I've been using it for about three years now. I also have experience with other amazing softwares, and I would love to create more tutorials on them if you need me to.
Here's a quick tutorial on how to use the Reedsy Book Editor.
When you visit the website, the first thing you'll come across is this page. It's a completely free writing tool with a fantastic interface. All you need to do is sign up with your Google or Facebook account.
After you've completed the sign-up process and provided some information about yourself, you will be directed to this page. Please locate the "Books" option in the website's header.
Feel free to give your book/WIP (Work in progress) a title. Remember, it's okay if it's not your final title, as you can always change it in the settings of your book later.
Once you've created it, you can take your time and when you're ready, you can click "Write.”
Once you click "Write," you'll be directed to the next page. There, you'll find your chapters, the space to write your manuscript, and a sidebar with various helpful features provided by Reedsy.
Then, you can choose any name for your chapter that feels meaningful to you.
You can also track your writing goals for your specific manuscript or book. This feature provides insights into your writing habits, such as the days you've written and the number of words you've written. You can also set a target word count goal for the manuscript, and you also have the option to set manual writing goals. Additionally, you can check the word count in your current chapter from the bottom of the widget.
You have the option to set a deadline and choose the days that work best for you to write. This will help Reedsy estimate a realistic word count goal for you.
Remember that on Reedsy, there's a new beta feature that allows you to plan and outline your novel without having to leave the website. It offers note cards for you to jot down the plot and scenes from your novel, which can serve as a helpful guide and provide a simple outline to support your writing process.
Also, don’t forget the various features available to you when creating your book in Reedsy. For instance, you have the option to include preset formatted pages such as a dedication page and an epigraph that resonates with your story. These features can add a lot of value to your book, and I encourage you to explore them further.
Hopefully this can help you understand the basics of Reedsy Book Editor. One of my favorite writing softwares that is completely FREE!
Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!
#writeblr#creative writing#thewriteadviceforwriters#writers on tumblr#writer things#writing#writing tips#on writing#writer#writer community#writing tools#writing resources#writing blog#writing advice#fiction writing#novel writing#author#book writing#publishing#indie author#fiction#reedsy#book editor#bookblr#self concept#bookworm#bookstore#books and reading#reading#book quotes
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