#the last envoy

[kimberly-stocks]

Rewatching Altered carbon season 1 for the third time because Joel Kinnaman 🤤

He said that to get into this shape he only ate kale leaves with his tears as a dressing 😅

[calaisreno]

Rise

621 words / Prompt: Family

Today’s mini-fic is a little bit that didn’t make it into The Last Envoy. After the war, Sherlock returns and visits Mummy. 

1946

Mycroft told me that Mummy was failing a bit, but that was not what I saw when I looked through the garden door and saw her snipping flowers to put in a vase. She looked like the woman I’d last seen four years ago, before I went to Oxford, still tall and straight, graceful and beautiful.

Four years seemed a lifetime. Years filled with separation and waiting, spent in places only war can create. 

“Happy Birthday, Mummy,” I said, smiling. 

She turned then, and I could see that her hair was whiter, her movements slower. She lay down the scissors and put her arms around me, still holding two roses. I felt her hands tremble against my back.

“My boy,” she whispered. “My dearest darling.”

She knew me, but in her mind I was always the son she’d lost, so many years ago. A bright little boy she’d called Sherlock, as well as the man Mycroft had named after that child. 

“How are you?” I could see a brightness in her eyes and was glad that her mind was still active. 

“I’m fine,” she replied, holding me at arm’s length now and examining me with that sharp gaze. “You look surprisingly well. Doctor Watson has been taking good care of you.”

“He has. Switzerland is a very healthy place to live. Up in the mountains, the air is crystal clear. I’m sure I’ll miss it and will need to visit again some day, but for now I’m happy to be back.”

We sat, and Rose brought us tea. 

“Mycroft told me about your experiences. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. It’s heart-breaking that people can do such things.”

I did not speak; a question should not be answered until it is asked.  

“How is John?” she asked.

“He’s fine. He would have come with me, but he had to be at the hospital today.”

“He’s a good man. I’m glad you have him.” 

“I’m very lucky.” 

We sipped our tea in silence. I could hear the bees humming in her flowers. Closing my eyes, I recalled the first time I saw bees travelling between the flowers in Mycroft’s garden. I imagined a day when I could no longer sit in Mummy’s garden, watching the bees and talking to her.  

As if she could hear my thoughts, she smiled and spoke to me. 

“I’m seventy-five years old today, Sherlock. With luck, I may have several more birthdays.”

“I hope so, Mummy.” 

She gave me that familiar look, the one that means she wants to share something personal, words for my ears alone. “You once described to me how the Beta view time as an arrow, always travelling up, leaving the past behind. It’s a good way to look at ageing, which often feels like loss. I’ve decided that as the years pile up, I will rise above them, into the future.”

In my mind I sometimes felt myself looking back as my ship moved up and away from Beta, my home planet, until it sparkled, a tiny point of light in the trackless black universe. I remembered everything about my home, every one of the people who loved me. They were moving quickly into the past, growing smaller as I looked back. I was flying away from them, but still too far away from my destination to see the life I would have on a planet that couldn’t be seen from Beta. In my memories, they were always looking up, watching me leave them.

That is how it would be for this woman who had become my second mother. In my memories, she would always live. 

One day, I would be a Memory too.

I smiled. “We all rise.” 

—

For a bit of context, an excerpt from The Last Envoy, Chapter 2:

1938

“How old are you?” I asked.

She raised her chin, a sign of pride. “I am sixty-seven years old.” She leaned forward and patted my knee. I wasn’t sure what this meant. “You’re a lovely boy, Sherlock. I want to teach you something important.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Women don’t like being asked their age,” she said. “I don’t mind because I’m an old woman and you are a lovely young man. You don’t know all of the social nuances, but you’re a quick learner.”

“Why do women not like to be asked their age?” It seemed to me that any human ought to be proud of living so long. 

She sighed. “It’s a bit complicated. Men don’t mind saying their age. You must understand that the role of women in our society is to produce children and raise them. For that, we have to project youth and good heredity, as evidenced by our beauty. A woman hates to think that she is no longer useful, so we continue to foster the illusion that we are still young and beautiful, even when it is a ridiculous fantasy.”

“Why do you think you are not useful?” I asked. “Women are not just breeding machines; they have brains. You had an important job; you’re obviously an intelligent woman who would do a better job running the country than most men.”

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I do not disagree. But these are the roles that nature has given us and society requires. Perhaps one day, we will rise above nature and society.” 

@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes

[ask-cloverfield]

I love Rebirth flirting with the question of how sentient Gamera is throughout the show, but still first thing we see with the old man is an eye full of such fondness at the sight of children.

[hopeforbountifulasks]

hi hope!!! if you don't mind, could you tell us about some of the interesting flora and fauna around your superstructure? maybe a favourite little creature or two of yours hanging around.. aside from envoy i guess, but you could tell us more about them too if you want! anyways i love u have a good day🫶

[HBH: I am still unsure what exactly causes it, if i had to guess i would say it begins in the very womb, but why ? A viral infection ? Trauma caused during development ? Or a hidden gene passed on from generation to generation ?... Makes you think doesn't it.]

[asleepinawell]

me: hmm i need 3 favours from hell asap i wonder if my opportunity deck will condescend to help me out

my opportunity deck:

[dreampearls]

colleis personality functionally being left to the ether because her webtoon iteration is at such fundamental odds with her game iteration that any attempts to temper between the two just range so dramatically

[cadrenebula]

Prompt #1: Envoy

(Time period is set around the start of Heavensward.)

Nebula wasn't sure what had drawn them to the frozen north after they had set out from their home. Not that they had been drawn to Coerthas right away. That would have been folly. Especially as unprepared as Nebula had been for the frozen temperatures.

Maybe it was the many stories they had heard of Lady Iceheart. Some part of Nebula felt the ones deemed as Heretics by Ishgard were not quite as the stories told. That the whole war between man and dragon had to have more to the story than the side told by man. Especially the side told by the Ishgardian Church of all things. Some part of Nebula felt that the Church painted the picture in their favor but they had no proof. Only feelings. Their feelings were rarely wrong. Fate always had plans and if this is where Nebula was to go, then to the north they would head.

Perhaps it was just their upbringing. They had been raised to be the leader of their clan in time once mother stepped down. Sometimes one needed to be able to see both sides with open eyes and not blindly trust stories being told. Maybe that was what drew them north. To see and learn in order to help them one day be a better leader for their people.

Nebula had picked what had seemed like an old camp to take a break at. Unsure who used this camp but it was long cold. Karma floated about acting as guard while Nebula rested, letting their familiar keep an eye for signs of trouble. Rubbing their upper arms as they tried to ward off the biting cold. Trying to use their magic a little to keep the warmth in their clothes as the logs slowly burned to cast heat from the small campfire.

Ears twitched as Karma froze for a moment before snarling softly. The nixie shaped familiar shifting forms to that of a shadow beast. Nebula stood to face whatever Karma was sensing approaching them. "We mean no harm if this is your camp we have borrowed. You are welcome to join me at my fire."

"You're trespassing. Hand over your belongings and begone."

Nebula sighed softly as they shook their head. They could only assume the trio were either bandits or heretics. None wore the colors or knights clothes of Ishgard and one of it's Houses. Maybe it was possible to use these three if they were indeed heretics. If they were bandits? Sadly Nebula would do what they needed to stay alive even if they did not enjoy killing poor unfortunate souls. After all this part of the world was hard for those with no status. That much they remembered being told.

"I'm afraid I carry very little you would be interested in or that would make your lives better in any way." Nebula shrugged as they forced a smile at the trio. "Though if you happen to be those branded as Heretics, I would like to talk to your leader. I have no ties to Ishgard as I am but a traveler from the deep woods of the Shroud. I would also advise against trying to attack me for that would result in Karma jumping to my defense and I fear that would mean your deaths."

The trio looked between themselves, talking in hushed angry tones. One of them, a mage perhaps judging by their clothes, was pointing towards Karma in warning to their friends. Their expressions did not look happy when they looked back towards the viera awaiting their answer.

"Lady Iceheart is too busy to deal with the likes of you. Call off your beast and we'll take you to Lady Gwyneira. She can decide your fate unless you'd rather die out here instead." The spear wielder snorted as he sneered at Nebula. "Cause I'm willing to take my chances against your beast." His one hand fingering a vial of something on his belt.

Nebula sighed as they waved a hand in Karma's direction. "Then let us go see Lady Gwyneira." Karma letting out one more low growl at the trio before shrinking back down in size from the large shadow beast and becoming once more the innocent looking nixie.

More than once on their path through the ice and snow did Karma growl threateningly at the trio if they tried to touch Nebula.

[kirstythejetblackgoldfish]

Saif al-Islam Gaddafi's message to the International Criminal Court following the plans for an arrest warrant for Netanyahu:

'What goes around comes around... Good luck'

[loxosceleslolo]

The Envoy's Long Horn finally dropped for me this playthrough and I am absolutely going to see what the fuss is all about.

[youareagoldfishnow]

Aloysius needs to touch grass

[ryteu]

Sestina de Senectute

Some days I think on all who fear to fade

And seal themselves within a shining fane

Made sacrosanct by virtue of their fame,

Though it may merely be a failed and frayed

Old shadow they might fret upon to feign

A self more worthy of a little frame,

As though that little, little frame

Would not itself one day begin to fade!

Indeed, it seems the great, unfailing feign

Of long eternity that never fane,

And Fate, and farcéd age shall become frayed

And rot away for sake of highest fame.

There may some merit be in trusted fame

For most distinguished lives to serve as frame;

Yet, even this by Virtue may be frayed

Until all things proved most unworthy fade

And leave behind and empty name as fane,

While mem’ry now posterity must feign.

A twisted, common thing it is to feign

The lives of those held great upon mere fame!

Where might find Truth in such a faithless fane

A place to now reside and form a frame

That should enhance instead of early fade

The portrait of a person merely frayed?

It seems for me no ill to be so frayed;

And better still by far than I should feign,

For some unbidden fear that soon I’ll fade,

Myself a shadow worth a petty fame.

I should rather like a small, honest frame

Upon some little, wayward forest fane,

Where worthy few might make old earth a fane

Of tired leaves and bedded grasses, frayed

With age. There shall Nature make a new frame

From ash, and bone, and what old Time may feign.

Though such a silent death may gain no fame,

It matters not to me, for all must fade.

Old, frayed blossoms fade;

So, too, must the frame of fame.

None may feign a fane.

[calaisreno]

The Last Envoy

Celebrating one year ❤️

My deepest thanks to all who have read and loved this story. It's an odd one, and before posting I had some doubts. Thank you, dear readers, for your comment and encouragement. Three years in the making, and you all helped me bring it into the world.

Special thanks to @totallysilvergirl and @keirgreeneyes 💕

[fideidefenswhore]

i was just reading your giles tremlett post and at the end you say anne boleyn didn't say "the cursed bastard that she was" about mary and it was added later, maybe even shifting what henry said onto anne after she was dead to smooth the situation over. Is that true? Cause the whole "anne said mean things!" line seems to rest on that. thanks.

oh, yeah, no, i often half-finish my train of thought on tags, bad habit, sorry.

it depends on the translation/book but regardless it's always une mauldicte bastarde (a/n ac/cursed bastard), the latest of the BHO being "as a cursed bastard", not "as the cursed bastard she was". more about that specific, infamous dispatch here.

my point was more that a very similar quote of henry's is not often cited , because it doesn't gel with the popular narrative of these dynamics:

Here the King explained to him what had been done by Parliament since the Admiral's departure; that the Princess had been proclaimed and an oath taken throughout the kingdom; that everyone takes Mary for the bastard she is, and he will have no other heir but the Princess, with whom, and in his power (en sa main), now is and will be the said Mary; there is no chance of her becoming queen or claiming any right to the Crown. 

Gontier then attempts to negotiate, will Henry forgive the French pension paid to him?

Henry took this ill, saying that he had done so much for Francis, his children and his kingdom, that it is not fair to ask him to give this up [...] it is an honour to his kingdom to have them; it was a strange recompense when he offered the heiress of a kingdom to a younger son;  they ought rather to give him something than ask

often the above quote and other similar ones in support of elizabeth as heiress, too, against his eldest daughter and her mother (”regard for the state of his own kingdom and the love he bears his Queen and her daughter the Princess, and his anxiety to protect their honor against the illwill of the Emperor, prevent his leaving the kingdom without taking measures for their security, for if the King leave the kingdom he would leave behind him another daughter, and her mother also, who with their friends might intrigue against them”), are ignored in favor of:

The French ambassador told me that the King, on returning from a visit to his new daughter, said that he had not spoken to the Princess on account of her obstinacy [...] and when the ambassador remarked that she had been very well brought up, the tears came into his eyes, and he could not refrain from praising her

leaving aside that the dispatch above ends with an assertion that the earl of northumberland has informed chapuys that anne is determined to poison her stepdaughter; given that chapuys is apparently quoting the french ambassador here (not to mention the unlikelihood of this interaction in context... if henry had spoken harshly against mary, it would be rather impolitic to reply that she had been 'very well brought up', no? particularly since henry is complaining of her defiance, that would more likely than not be taken as blatant disrespect), it's interesting to note that nothing of the sort is noted in the dispatches of the french ambassador himself, and that this is instead what he reports:

In the end he made answer to me, that, as to his daughter Mary, he intended always to treat that matter as a thing of no importance, and that I must say nothing more about it; adding that he was very much displeased with her, because she would rather die than acknowledge the present Queen as Queen, or the daughter of this marriage as Princess, but that he would take care to punish her. To judge by his words, he hates her thoroughly.

it was such a brief window of time in which henry defended elizabeth's position as heiress and unequivocally supported her and anne, i get that what happens here eventually is sort of read backwards into that brief period of time, but i really do wish there was a less opaque and more vigorous assessment of the primary sources of this time, and that they weren't so chapuys-centric....chapuys was not infallible, and he certainly wasn’t the only source on henry. 

[endlessthoughtsofafangirl]

The Young Imperial Envoy | 少年大钦差 Jin Dong as Xu An

[brittle-doughie]

Since we had that story of Y/N Cookie wanting to keep the Ancients from going out and getting themselves killed up against Dark Enchantress Cookie, how about something similar with the Beasts?

>The Beasts get corrupted

>Y/N Cookie, not corrupted, tries to fight them, and fails

>cue them starting to die

>Beasts start panicking, completely overestimating how much Y/N Cookie could take

>Y/N Cookie, in their last moments, wishes they could’ve done more to help the Beasts not get corrupted before finally going

>Witch(es) stumble upon this scene, seeing their greatest cookie having been crumbled, along with whatever other carnage is around

>cue literally everything else

Being sealed away with the guilt of spilling jam from the cookie you all loved the most fresh on your mind? They are NOT gonna be doing so hot in there.

The Tale of the Forced Hand (The Five Beasts)

Witch’s Castle witches are pretty neat.

“The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling…When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.”

“The Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.”

“..harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this world…”

“And the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators.”

“Knowledge, Volition, Compassion, Happiness, Change, and Solidarity.”

“The Dessert World bound by these Five Virtues was nothing short of paradise.”

Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie chimed in with their responses.

“So those six Cookies were the original owners of the Soul Jam?”

“Huh…Those “Six Virtues” are different from those of the Soul Jams. There’s six of them, yet only five today…”

“The Virtue of Compassion is what held the other Virtues so closely together, cherishing each of them equally as much.”

“Alas, for they and the perfect age were short-lived. Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of ends…A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee.”

“One by one, the Five, once regarded as saviors of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twisted…reduced to Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence….”

Strawberry Cookie shuddered in worry at the mere mention of the fallen virtues.

“Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence..that sounds really scary…

“Wait, what about the Virtue of Compassion? They weren’t evil too, were they?”

“The Virtue of Compassion was able to prevail against their descent into Darkness with their Soul Jam, whereas now the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil, began their dark crusade…”

“The Witches asked of Compassion to protect the Cookie World from the Beast Cookies, lending them what strength they could give.”

“Compassion fought bravely against the Beasts, blocking each of their blows and resisting their sickly whispers…But it was only a matter of time before Compassion slowly began to whittle…”

———————————————————————

“Come on, snap out of you all! This isn’t what you guys once were!”

“What’s the big deal, silly willy~ There isn’t anything wrong with dabbling yourself in a little bit of Darkness, you should try it with us!”

“No! This isn’t you! You were all my best friends! Come to your senses! Now!”

“It pains me to see you still cling onto false hope that you’re different than the rest of us, darling~ Can you just let go and become who you really are? For me~?”

“I can’t…I cannot forsake my oath to protect the Cookie World. You all know that! Cookies that want happy lives, don’t you want that?”

“They will all meet the same fate in the end, reduced to nothing…the futility of all this should be clear to you…”

“As if! It isn’t pointless to live life the way you want it to! It’s how you spend it and make the most of it!”

“They will all crumble in the end, so why not give them a little push! You’re starting to really aggravate me now, Y/N Cookie!”

“I won’t let you hurt them and I don’t want to hurt you all any more then I have to! Please, don’t do this…”

“……”

“Your silence says everything I need to hear from you. I tried…but I will put a stop you no matter if I’m reduced to bits!”

———————————————————————

“Woah….What happened to them?”

“The Virtue of Compassion fought for as long as they were able, their dough slowly whittling away with every blow that dealt to them. The Beasts have overestimated just how durable their former friend was…and they perished right in the middle of the circle….”

———————————————————————

“Ok, ya silly goose! You can stand right back up now! You put on a great show, let us give you a round of applause!”

“Darling, we know we haven’t hit you too hard. You can join us and we can all be together once more as Beasts…”

“Hmm…they don’t seem to be responding to us…”

“Hey, Y/N Cookie. Quit being soft and get up already, you’re..starting to worry me a bit here, you know.”

Silent Salt Cookie knelt down and placed their thumb on your wrist…jumping back when they feel nothing…

“Ahaha! Okay! This isn’t funny anymore, you softie! You win! Stand up on your two feet now! I’ll make you if you don’t!”

“D-Darling? P-Please get up. Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I-WE just really wanted you to join us…”

“Burning Spice Cookie, just how hard were your strikes to their dough?

“D-Don’t put any type of blame on me! All of you were just as rough with them as I was!”

“….!”

The Beast Cookies rushed to their fallen friend in the center, clearly distraught on their faces…

“Y/N Cookie, if you don’t stop playing jokes with me right now, I’ll never forgive you!”

“Darling! Wake up! I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you so hard! Please wake up! You have to! Don’t leave me alone!”

“It was pointless to try and stop us, Y/N Cookie. Yet…my heart cries and aches, why did you have to resist….please, wake up…”

“God DAMN IT. I-I went too far, I shouldn’t have been so brutal with my swings and now look at you, your dough..damaged and ruined….because of me….”

“….Hmph….”

Silent Salt just lowered their head to look at the ground, feeling nothing but shame and remorse for what they had done…for what they all had done….

“I wish…I could’ve done more for you all…I wished…that I had loved all of you more…to not…end up like this...”

“…..I’m sorry…..”

———————————————————————

“The Witches couldn’t bear to see what fate had befallen their creations, made even more distraught at the loss of their greatest creation among them all…they punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this land…”

“And planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. Right where the Virtue of Compassion was laid to rest, so that at least a part of them can live on….From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast Yeast.”

“The Witches then gathered the last vestiges of power bestowed upon the Beasts, untouched by their corruption. They further cleansed, purified it, and in the end…Soul Jam was created. The purest Soul Jam was meant to be earned by Cookies who had proven themselves worthy.”

“All, but Compassion. For their purity simply could not be remade again. The Witch who personally baked Compassion had locked herself away in grief after the loss of her cookie and took the knowledge of the recipe and baking of Compassion with her…”

“So, there can never be another cookie like Compassion?”

“It’s what they say, but all life powder returns to the earth. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that the Virtue of Compassion may return in some form, someday…”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Y/N Cookie, who was casually eating some food offered to them by the Faeries.

“…..What?”

[yandere-wishes]

Alice in Marvel-land

𐙚Yandere! Deadpool (Wade Wilson) x Reader x Yandere Wolverine (Logan Howlett)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ In some worlds, you were Logan's little darling. In others, you were Wade's starry-eyed lover. But here in the void, there is only one of you and two of them.

⁀➷ GORE, yandere behavior, kidnapping, Deadpool being Deadpool.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ IDK, probs the Deadpool and Wolverine soundtrack

Logan feels the world slipping away.

Piece by piece, atom by atom.

In a blink, he's falling down darkness.

An endless rabbit hole.

What was the name of that fairy tale you liked so much?

The one with the girl who gets lost in splendor?

The dust is kicking up, framing the sunset portrait along the horizon.

The envoys are nearly home, this time they've brought someone back. The cage balls chime along the unsteady road. If you squint just far enough you can almost make out vibrant specks of red and yellow.

Strange, the void tends to wash out bright colors. Well, it tends to wash out just about everything.

You scrape your nails along the skeleton's sockets. Leave crescents in the decaying cartilage. "They're almost here" you call out awaiting Cassandra's next move. You watch dolefully as she's transfixed on a portal. The sparky thing unfurled like a fresh wound, strewing salt on persistent lacerations. She watches her brother, or well some variation of her brother. Surrounded by his new family, surrounded by those he loves. He's forgotten her, or maybe never even knew her. You think that the latter would hurt the most.

"Cassandra" Your voice rises in octave, this time getting her attention. "They're here".

"Coming" She sings, voice so chip it almost sounds like unshed tears. You send a final glare at the portal before it collapses on itself.

If you tried hard enough, maybe you could bring yourself to understand her pain. Those pesky notions of desperation for someone to love. But it

doesn't matter now everyone you've ever loved is dead anyway. And unlike Cassandra, you've long since given up on the childish dreams of being rescued by someone who would offer up love so freely.

"Maybe shut up now"

Logan's nerves are frying. Thin strings snapping with every syllable that leaves the red merc's mouth. He's starting to appreciate Stryker in a way he didn't even know he could. The man was a psychotic sadist but at least he knew when to sew someone's mouth shut. Maybe he can convince this Cassadra chick to do the same.

Logan's eyes are almost at 90 degrees of a roll when they stop. He stops, frozen. In the gaping mouth of the rotting skull, something all too familiar stands.

Or rather someone.

Someone he knew.

Someone he loved.

Your name tastes bitter on his tongue. All death and whisky.

Maybe cause it's been so long since the attack. Since he walked off for the night and left his family to die. Cause the last time he saw you, you were a mangled corpse laying in an open grave. Deadweight as he cradled you in his arms.

You walk closer. Face painted in too many shades of confusion.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Damn, he's started quoting that stupid book again.

"How do you know my name" You ask. You look just as beautiful as he remembers. Spine carved straight in pride with perfect lips, perfect eyes. His talons itch to glide across your soft skin, to feel you so intimately once more.

"LOOOGAN did you see what the bald chick just- HEY!!"

It takes too much effort to pull his gaze away. To stare at red and black and be reminded of cruel realities. But Wade has a tendency to be a persistent ache, some unwelcomed anchor to every problem he's ever had.

Only this time when he actually looks at him. Looks at the jittery body that's stilled abruptly. He can't help but be glad that he did. A bitter laugh bubbles in his throat. Maybe Wade's shut up for good this time.

He always knew you were special but this is truly a miracle.

"IT'S YOU!!"

Nope, didn't work. He knew he couldn't be that lucky.

Wade whispers your name, a forgotten prayer. Logan didn't even know the loudmouth knew how to pray. But he seems to almost soften when he sees you. That feral, cheeky killer, looks so so soft when he stares into your doe-eyes. Reaching out zealously to twirl a lock of your hair around his blood-soaked finger.

He can almost feel Wade choking on your essence, heart erratic, like a child finding a lost toy. He's drowning in ecstasy, and Logan is almost tempted to join him. You're here, a breath away. So close it's taking every ounce of self-control not to pull you to his chest and keep you locked between his arms until he finally dies too.

"Penunt look that's my girl!!"

"Your girl!?"

He had taken you for granted as he tends to do with most peaceful things. The realization had occurred a little too late. Right as he had been emptying a round into the target of the week's head.

He lands.

Arms high like an Olympian pleasing the crowd.

He wonders if he can make you cheer for him.

Clap and shout his name as he twirls around the mess he's made.

He wants to feel loved, although he'll never say it out loud. He's only ever been good with words when they're laced with sarcasm and profanity.

And maybe 'I love you' is just about the most obscene thing he can ever say to someone as sweet as you.

Wade plays the white rabbit, fluffy coat stained red from every kill. Tricking poor Alice into following him down cruel rabbit holes. Making you chase him through labyrinths then leaving you at every turn. He leads you to every kill, makes you watch as he dances in slaughter. He can even feel your eyes right now. Starlight slicing him open to quench vulgar interests.  

Alice always follows the rabbit.

He stalks closer, white eyes fixated on your deliciously bewildered expression. Precious thing caught in a warzone. He can almost taste you on his tongue, the sharp tip of a star slivering the inside of his mouth, soft hands painting crescent moons along the back of his neck. He needs to carve his essence across your lips, to pour the after-kill adrenaline into your soul. He needs you.

Only this time...

This time he'd been too distracted. So caught up in claiming you as his victory prize that he didn't notice the grizzled man clinging to life...

And a pistole.

The bullet punctures his shoulder. An afterthought.

But the lead keeps going.

Penetrating the air until it lands bunglingly between your eyes.

You fall into his arms.

Deadweight.

Did the white rabbit ever miss Alice?

Did he ever realize how truly special such a curious girl made him feel?

He doubts it.

Doubts that a stupid rodent would have better emotional stability than him.

He's been given a second chance. A whole plethora of them actually. He's been deemed holy, righteous. And aren't gifts of marvel bestowed upon the truly blessed? What better blessing than the sight of you standing amongst the sand and skulls?

Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...

He lets the blood trickle down his claws.

What else is there to do but dream of you?

It's the fourth day of his massacre and he's lost count of how many humans he's killed. Maybe cause after the first hundred the faces tend to blur.

He leaves your pleasants in between the rotting carcasses and broken glass. Only taking the torturous parts of you. The things that can hurt him. The sharp edges that he can slit his pulse point on, the vague memory of your glare before you cried. The soft skin of your neck between his jagged teeth.

Enough to keep the hate burning.

He wonders if the creatures of Wonderland wept after Alice left. He wonders if Wonderland lost its wonder.

But now you're standing here.

Alive.

And he wants so badly to remember the sweet taste of your lips. The soft push against his chapped lips as he swallows you whole. Even desperate rabbits can go a little feral. His eyes take in every breath, every scowl.

Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...

Aliath skids forward, mystified in lightning and smoke. You feel your bones collapsing under the rugged man's, Logan's, vice grip. You thrash and scream trying to break free but he only barks out orders to his friend before they take off running.

"Your safe, don't worry we got you." There's a comedic cadence to every word Wade says. You can almost fool yourself into enjoying it if the two weren't actively attempting to defy Cassandra, to defy Aliath, to defy deities and absolutes. To ripe you away from the only semblance of opulence you've come to know.

"Let me go, you custome-wearing freaks." His gripe tenses. "Don't struggle so much, we said you're safe, now hold still" Logan's anger ripples through you. It's almost muscle memory to still, to obey.

Did you know him? Know them?

In some past life too out of reach?

The ground shutters to a jagged rhythm. You're flying up, escaping the misty horrors of the ground. Your head pounds with the force, air slapping across your body as you taste the cotton of the clouds between your teeth.

Is this how Alice felt as her head hit the roof?

Wade mutters about the stars and educated wishes. About people who live and matter. Logan slices through his thigh, the mercenary's optimism making his body ring with phantom pains.

No one matters.

And when they start to, they die.

There are cruel absolutes in this world. He's tasted them all. Let them slice his tongue and heart and danced to every tune they've sung. He rips his claws out and digs them into Wade's chest.

Again

And again.  

Wade savors the salty tang of blood inside his mouth.

Licks his teeth and runs his tongue over the gaping holes.

He's sitting in the front seat head rolled back.

High off the blood and adrenaline and the thought of having you so close.

"I take it all back, the Honda odysseys fucks hard"

Bones crack, interrupted mid-heal as Logan turns his head to glare. "Shut up" he rasps and Wade almost, almost, hears approval.

There's a low moan reverberating across the broken car. Late night sleepy mumble that's half 'I love you' and half 'I need you'. Neither one has heard it in such a long time.

"Finally awake sleeping beauty? Kinda surprised you could sleep through all of that" Wade shimmies to the back, only to be greeted by your foot smashing into his face, cracking his nose open, and sending a fresh wave of blood into his mouth. He pins your knee to the seat and wiggles himself between you. caging you with his elbows as he stares down at your pretty face. "Miss me, angel baby?"

"Wrong fairy tale" Logan turns around in his seat, claws out running them across your cheek "Please stop, just let me go" you've never begged before, never fallen so low. But these two things, mutants, mutates, or whatever they are, scare you. Reckless, suicidal, dangerous. You feel so helpless in their presence. Never knowing you're to be kissed or killed.

"You're as lovely as I remember" The melancholy colors him in a monochrome of sympathy. Here is a man who's gone through every horror and still gets out of bed. Or maybe he has to, maybe he can't quite die and can't quite reach heaven. So he gulps down his immortality with black coffee to at least pretend he's being buried six feet deep. "Even after all this time I still love you" You almost melt in his brown eyes. So lonely, so desperate.

Kill or kiss

You want him to do both. Want to kiss extinction on his lips while being impaled by the claws. Kill or kiss.

Both, both, both.

"You know~" Wade pushes himself up, "I think your dress should be red...and black. To match your favorite man."

"Who the hell said you were the favorite?" Wade leans forward, in a blink he's gripped Logan's wrist and lunged the Wolvarine's claws into your abdomen.

You writhe, the bones and metal feel almost heavenly inside of you. When he retracts the claws you moan out, it's too saccharine to hold back. Everything feels so much lighter, colorful. You feel your essence slipping out, gushing over the back seat.

Red waterfall, so pretty.

Dress stained red.

"Told ya so!"

Wade pulls you roughly by the shoulders and smashes his lips against yours. He's so cute, fickle Cheshire cat, tongue dancing across your mouth, slitting itself on your peaked teeth, and filling your mouth with thick red caterpillar smoke. "What the hell is wrong with you? You really are God's perfect idiot" Logan's anger is tangible, sweet, and bitter like hatter tea at midnight.

"S'okay Logan, it feels nice" Your words slur, slipping gauche from your tongue as you giggle profusely. You feel like Alice cracking open Wonderland's ribs, crawling inside, and smearing the wonder across your face.

"When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one" You've heard these words before, Alice's words. she's right. Your fairy tale is painted red with pretty, crazy, princes who think that slicing open a princess is easier than kissing her. You reach out for Logan, desperate for a kiss. "eat me" you mutter, and Logan's face morphs into pure terror "Wade what the hell have you done to her?".

"What? It's better this way trust me"

"I hate you"

Logan bends, meeting you halfway. He kisses you with all the wary of a dead man walking. All teeth and heart and bitter memories left to rot three lifetimes ago. He pushes himself between your bones, trying to carve out his ethos in your body. He'd burn the world so long as he gets to keep you.

You squeeze your thighs around Wade's muscular thighs and hips unlocking a gibby giggle from the man. His mask is half pulled up as he trails sloppy fervorous kisses across your neck and chest. The nostalgia slithering under your skin has you squirming, you've been through this all before. In a past life somewhere where storm monsters and voids don't exist. "Remember how good this feels?" Wade mumbles as his fingers dig into your puncture wounds, drawing slow, desperate moans from your puffy lips. You don't dare answer you don't know what would be worst admitting to liking the loudmouth ministrations or admitting there were other versions of you out there, other happy versions.

"Oh for hell's sake," Logan reclines the front seat and shuffles closer. Pulling down the back of your dress. His kisses are bite marks in disguise rabid and feral, the two things the man will never escape. His name rolls across your tongue, you let it slip in an airy moan. "No fair " Wade complains "I want you to say my name too." He pulls out his baby knife and etches the skin of your thighs. Scribbling doodles of stars and half hearts and the little symbol he wears on his belt. "W-wade" you gasp never knowing whether to scream in pain or giggle in bliss.

Logan laughs into your neck. You didn't even know he was capable of such a gentle thing. You bite his lip playfully. Dragging your fingers across his muscular arms. Your thumb pushes into the space between his knuckles asking for the claws. For the most macabre parts of him. You glide your tongue across the parish where flesh meets metal. Kissing the metal and bones and lapping at the blood. Watch curiously as he draws out a long airy sigh. "Good girl" he mumbles voice marred with ecstasy and you almost see the ghost of a smile smear across his pretty lips.

Wade's thumb gently rubs against your hips. Softly usering you into peace, tranquility. Your eyes get heavy, the car gets blurry. The grotesque realignment of their bones steering you into a deep, content sleep.

"Hey Peanut, you think Alice in Wonderland here would mind if we keep going? "  

"Shut it, moron "

"Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if only I knew how to begin.”

🎀Bonus

Deadpool: "Do you think the author's going to write about us again? Or is she planning to finally write that Dune fic she keeps talking about?

Wolverine: "I have no fucking idea what the hell you're even talking about.

🪐@yandere-romanticaa @bad4amficideas @sugarplumz100 @oscarissac2099 @facelessfionna @siphite @tocotuesday69 @linoleunm @mei-simp @shamelessdarkprince @gabriqllas @lovely-liliacs @shiroi-asashin17 @failinguniversity