#this has happened SO MANY TIMES over the years
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The Sanitized Lore of Dragon Age: The Veilguard
Tevinter is the heart of slavery in Thedas. This lore has been established in every game, novel, comic, and other extended material in the Dragon Age franchise to date that so much as mentions the nation. But in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, when we are finally able to actually visit this location for the first time… this rampant slavery we’ve heard so much about is nowhere to be found. It’s talked about here and there; Neve mentions The Viper has a history of freeing slaves, as does Rook themselves if they choose the Shadow Dragon faction as their origin, for example. But walking down the streets of Minrathous, you’d never know. Because Dragon Age: The Veilguard, for all its enjoyment otherwise, has one glaring issue: It’s too clean.
The world of Thedas is full of injustices. Humans persecute elves, fear qunari, and belittle dwarves. Mages of any race are treated like caged animals in most places. The nobility is corrupt. Although, Dragon Age has not always handled these injustices well, mind you. Many, many times I’ve found myself frustrated with moments that just feel like a Racism Simulator. But what makes it worth it, is when you can actually do something about it. These injustices are things that a good-aligned character strives to fight back against, maybe even for very personal reasons. Part of the power-fantasy for many minorities is that this fight feels tangible. I cannot arrange the assassination of a corrupt politician in real life, but I sure can get Celene Valmont stabbed to death in Dragon Age: Inquisition, for example. Additionally, these fictional injustices can be used to make statements on real life parallels, like any source of media. For example, no, the Chant of Light is not real, but acting as a stand-in for Catholicism, through a media analysis lens we can explore what the Chant of Light communicates on a figurative level.
When starting Dragon Age: The Veilguard and selecting to play as an elf – this should be unsurprising to anyone who is familiar with my bias towards them – I was fully prepared to enter the streets of Minrathous and immediately get called “knife-ear” or “rabbit”. But this did not happen. I thought perhaps it was just a prologue thing, but returning to Minrathous once again, there was not a single shred of disapproval from any NPC I encountered that wasn’t a generic enemy to fight. And even the generic enemies, the Tevinter Nationalist cult of the Venatori, didn’t seem to care at all that I was a lineage they deemed inferior before now. This is a stark difference from entering the Winter Palace in Dragon Age: Inquisition and immediately getting hit with court disapproval and insults. Are we now to believe that Tevinter has somehow solved its astronomical racism and classism problems in the ten years since the past game? Or perhaps are we to believe all the characters who have demonstrated Tevinter’s systemic discriminatory views were just lying or outliers? Because it makes absolutely no sense at all for this horribly corrupt nation to not have a shred of reactivity to an elven or qunari Rook prancing around. But here were are, and not a single NPC even recognizes my character’s lineage. And because this is so different from every single past game, it feels weird.
As an elf, you have the option to make a comment about how “too many humans look down on us” in one scene early in the game. You can also talk to Bellara and Davrin, the elven companions, about concerns that people won’t trust elves after finding out about the big bad Ancient Evanuris… but this is presented as if elves don’t already face persecution. It’s all so limited in scope that it could be all too easily missed if you are not paying very close attention, and coming into the game with pre-existing lore knowledge.
All this made it easy to first assume that the developers simply over-corrected an attempt to address the Racism Simulator moments. And if that was the case, than I would at least give credit to effort; they did not find the right balance, but they at least tried. However, the sudden lack of discrimination against different lineages in Dragon Age: The Veilguard is not the only sanitized example of lore present.
In Dragon Age: Origins, Zevran Arainai is a companion who is from the Antivan Crows; a group of assassins. He discusses in detail how the Crows buy children and raise them into murder machines through all kinds of torture. The World of Thedas books also describe how the Antivan Crows work, echoing what Zevran says and expanding that of the recruitment, only a select handful of those taken by the Crows even survive. When you start Dragon Age: The Veilguard as an Antivan Crow, you immediately unlock a re-used codex entry from the past, “The Crows and Queen Madrigal”, that says the following:
“His guild has a reputation to uphold. They are ruthless, efficient, and discreet. How would they maintain such notoriety if agents routinely revealed the names of employers with something as "banal" as torture.”
Ruthless, efficient, and discreet. Torture is banal. This is what the Crows were before Dragon Age: The Veilguard decided to take them in a very different direction. The Antivan Crows in this latest game are painted as freedom fighters against the Antaam occupation of Treviso. Teia calls the Crows “patriots”. And while I can certainly believe that the Crows would have enough motivation to fight back against the Antaam, given that it is in direct opposition to their own goals, I cannot understand why they are suddenly suggested to be morally good. They are assassins. They treat their people like tools and murder for money. Even as recent as the Tevinter Nights story Eight Little Talons, it is addressed that the Antivan Crows are in it for the coin and power, with characters like Teia being outliers for wanting to change that. It makes the use of the older codex all the more confusing, as it sets the Antivan Crows up as something they are no longer portrayed as.
I personally think it would have been really interesting to explore a morally corrupt faction in comparison to say, the Shadow Dragons. Perhaps even as a protagonist, address things like the enslavement of “recruits” to make the faction at least somewhat better. (They are still assassins, after all.) Instead, we’re just supposed to ignore everything unsavory about them, I suppose…
We could discuss even further examples. Like how the Lords of Fortune pillage ruins but it’s okay, because they never sell artifacts of cultural importance, supposedly. Or how the only problem with the Templar Order in Tevinter is just the “bad apples” that work with Venatori. I could go on, but I don’t think I have to.
It is because of all this sanitization, that I cannot believe this was simply over-correction on a developmental part. Especially when there is still racism in the game, in other forms. The impression I’m left with feels far deeper than that; it feels corporate. As if a computer ran through the game’s script and got rid of anything with “too much” political substance. The strongest statements are hidden in codex entries, and I almost suspect they had to be snuck in.
Between a Racism Simulator and just ignoring anything bad whatsoever, I believe a balance is achievable; that sweet spot that actually has something to say about what it is presenting. I know it is achievable, because there are a few bright spots of this that I’ve encountered in Dragon Age: The Veilguard too. For example, some of the codex entries like I mentioned, and almost all the content with the Grey Wardens thus far. It is a shame there is not more content on this level.
Dragon Age: The Veilguard is overall still a fun game, in my opinion. But it’s hard to argue that it isn’t missing the grit of its predecessors. The sharp edges have been smoothed. The claws have been removed. The house has been baby-proofed. And for what purpose?
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#dragon age#datv#datv critical#datv spoilers#not really but tagging just in case#meta#anti bioware#we're so back
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[Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint] 5 years of waiting for Han Myungoh to reappear in the manhwa only for him to be changed into a completely new person. Disappointment.
[NOTE: I don't have anything against people who like Han Myungoh's Demon Earl design.] This will be me ranting/venting about Han Myungoh's new design. Don't get me wrong, I still like Han Myungoh. I love him a lot, I'm just letting out my frustration.
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"There were many small wrinkles on Han Myungoh’s face. Moreover, his whole skin was blackened. Putting aside the wrinkles, the skin discoloration was a sign of a species variation. The longer I looked, the more I could see the old face. Still, many human traces were missing and it was hard to know without looking closely." - chapter 204, Unidentified Wall
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Getting this out of the way before I start: I know that the manhwa design is accurate to the novel description, I know that there are many technical reasons why his design in the manhwa differs from merch/official art/etc., and I'M NOT HATING ON HAN MYUNGOH'S NEW DESIGN.
Okay.
I'm sad at the manhwa version of Han Myungoh's demon form.
Particularly, I'm upset since I doubt they'd make such a drastic change with any of the other KDJ Co. members. [There's Kim Dokja's demon form, but even then I could still tell that it's Kim Dokja, unlike with Han Myungoh.]
I knew he was gonna look different but something this drastic makes me feel distressed. Han Myungoh was the first, and currently still the only comfort character I have in my life, which is surprising since I never expected to even have a comfort character. Loved him in the novel, loved him even more when he was finally drawn by artists, then the manhwa adaptation trailer dropped and I was PUMPED.
I think what really pisses me off even more is that there's barely anything about him in the first place. I live off of scraps. I really only read the manhwa for him if I'm being honest, I prefer the novel ORV. I've waited for so long for him to finally appear in future chapters again, and when he does come back, he's completely unrecognizable!
It's not even the fact that HMO got redesigned, it's the fact that he looks like a completely different character! What happened?! That's not him, who is that?!
Like, just put yourself in my shoes for a second. Imagine Yoo Joonhyuk disappearing for the entirety of the manhwa adaptation and then when his long awaited comeback is here, he suddenly has long white hair, blue eyes, a chiseled jawline and a completely different outfit, like- you see where I'm coming from, right?!
I'm genuinely so distraught over this lmao, like /gen /extremely neg.
With that out of the way, I've processed this loss for a long time now and I've accepted the fact that I'll never see "Han Myungoh" in the manhwa ever again. I will love both designs even if I favor one more than the other, because it's Han Myungoh and I love Han Myungoh. I'll love him even if he was a worm.
#omniscient reader's viewpoint#orv#orv han myungoh#han myungoh orv#MY WIIIFFEEEE IT'S MY WIIFFEEEE#gosh#I love making Han Myungoh purple#it's so ⊹ .𝔸𝔼𝕊𝕋ℍ𝔼𝕋𝕀ℂ⊹ .#my beloved purple man#and not the one from fnaf
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Careful, Bub | DP&W!Logan Howlett x F!Reader
Synopsis: I showed my friends, then we high-fived / Sorry if you feel objectified / Can't help myself, hormones are high / Give me more than just some butterflies
Warnings: Mutual Pining, Masturbation, Sexting, Nude Photos, Mentions of Sex Toy Use, Dom!Logan, Logan Talks You Through It, P R A I S E K I N K ! L O G A N, Choking of the Sexual Variety, Shoving, Claws Come Out, Age Gap (Reader is in their late 20’s – Logan is 200 years old), Reader used to have confidence issues but worked through them,
Rating: M – No Minors
Word Count: 8.5k
To be tagged in any future work of mine, please fill this out.
It’s fun to relate to the people that live in the same place as you, something about it deepens the connection. Whether it is a mutual bonding over music, entertainment, or even sports – it always makes you feel closer, comfortable. In this day and age, it can be almost lonely if you aren’t connected with others through your phone, making the world feel a bit glummer. Having that safe group is necessary to be one with the world, to feel like you’re going to be okay – like everything is going to pan out. You happened to luck out by living in the same building as some of the most heinous, and hilarious characters the world has ever set eyes on. You have the fortune of calling them your friends.
The group chat was originally Wade’s idea. His way of bringing you into the crew when you worked late, not missing a moment of meet ups you couldn’t make it to. It was a sweet gesture, but with how many others were in there – it overwhelmed you. Out of the twelve people who are constantly messaging the chat, you found safety within two of them. Negasonic and Yukio happened to be your solace when the chat was too loud. Yukio wasted no time in creating a Girls Only chat for you three, where nothing was held back. You three could express yourselves in every way possible, without the guys being weirdos – mainly Wade but still. It was great to have women friends around your own age, that was something you were not used to.
Any inside joke about the guys or about events being organized was ran through your three separately, making small bets here and there on what Al would say, who Peter would try to have grab his chain, how many times Logan told Wade to fuck off. Logan, that made you tune in real quick. The possibilities were endless and made it eventful to say the least. But the one thing you loved the most about your friendship with Nega and Yukio is how open they are with you; Honest, encouraging, your own personal cheerleaders. When you initially met them, you were a shy little wallflower – getting by on just being a listener over a talker. Always the encourager, never getting encouragement. Shying away anytime someone was nice to you, never accepting it as truth. Yukio and Nega were the opposite of what you were, and everything you wanted to be.
Having a safe space with them meant you could send them anything and they’d listen, give advice, be the best friends you could’ve ever asked for. It was with them that you found your confidence, something you always struggled with. It was one photo you sent them of the dress you were wearing – both ladies telling you how beautiful and gorgeous you are, how hot you looked in it. That small little omission altered your brain chemistry. You hadn’t been called hot before, so it invigorated you to hear that. It was a long dive into the endless pool below, and you were ready for the journey down. Months and months of slowly getting out of your shell with them turned you into a little vixen, the compliments they gave you caused you to thrive. You always reciprocated for them as well, hyping them up through and through. It felt good to feel like you were worth it, like you weren’t just there. It changed the way you saw yourself, and you knew you’d never go back to how it was before.
Tonight was no different, after all you had just gotten back from hanging out with them. A trip downtown to the mall was a call for chaos when it was you three, Wade forcing Logan to stay home with him and reenact The Greatest Showman with Mary Puppins. It bummed you out for a bit, not being able to chill with Logan like you wanted, but when Wade called – no one told him no. It was a secret to everyone who wasn’t Yukio and Nega that you had a thing for Logan. Something about the older man burned right through you in the most sensual way possible, something deep and longing you never wanted to leave. Little glances you two would have together always caused the girls to giggle, teasing you about it later but, it was only a matter of time before the chord snapped, before you gave in. Still that fear sat at the back of your mind, the what if’s. What if he doesn’t want me? What if he doesn’t want anyone? What if? What if? What if?
As you sit on your plush rug right in front of your wall length mirror, you leaned against the side of your bed, humming as you thumbed through the earlier group chat messages. Behind you on your duvet sat the bag full of clothing you had gotten, trying to add more color into your wardrobe. Beneath it all sat a spicy little number you nabbed whole Yukio and Nega were changing, something that felt so right you needed to have it. It wasn’t a secret that you would buy yourself things like these every now and again but, this time around you felt empowered holding this little secret just for yourself, to surprise your friends with. They always said that color duo made you look fearless, powerful, gorgeous – and you’d be damned if you’d pass it up, especially on sale.
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you contemplated getting up to take a shower or put on your new set, feeling yourself out, getting some prime photos then showering. The toss up between the two left you unable to choose, wondering if you could go hang out with Wade and Laura instead, maybe even sneak your way into Logan’s room. The thought made your body shiver, needing to close your eyes for a moment to brace yourself. Taking a deep breath in, you let your mind wander, your hand grabbing the bag off your bed instinctively. It was a given deep down you wanted to prance around your room in the set, spicing up your night. Something about wearing it underneath your clothes while hanging out with everyone felt taboo, downright sinful – but you craved it.
Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, you gently grabbed each piece of lingerie out of the bag, the rustling of tissue paper filling the air as your music droned low in the background. The bra was placed carefully against the bed first, followed by the lacy things and garter set; Your eyes quivered with arousal as you saw it, knowing how it was going to make you feel. There was no wasted effort in stripping completely naked, tossing your day clothes into the laundry basket. The slight cool breeze coming from your central air, mixing with the intoxicating smell of the candles lit around you made your eyes darken, your nipples pebbling against the air. You understood why you were excited and giddy to be putting it in, but in the back of your mind you also felt nervous. It was confusing you.
Pushing it out of your head, you ignored the nagging in the back of your mind, solely focusing on the task at hand. Sliding the soft lace of the thong up your thighs, you reveled in how it felt – how it glided against your skin so softly, like it was a lover. How supportive it felt cupping your front whilst holding your behind helped to quell some of the nerves lying low in your belly. Snapping the elastic band against your hip, you giggled as you grabbed the bra. Even though it was lacy and covered almost nothing, it had good support for your breasts, holding them perfectly to show the most amount of cleavage, but also leaving some to the imagination. In between the small bits of detailing, you could see the color of your nipple, which caused your smirk to grow. Biting your bottom lip, you smoothed your hands over the apex of your breasts, watching as the flesh spilled over slightly.
All that was left was your garter belt, sitting across the middle of your stomach and hooking onto your stockings. You worked quickly to pull them up as you let the music take over you, swaying to the beat so it was less intimidating. As the final strap was hooked to the top of your stockings, you let out a shaky sigh, silently prepping yourself for what you would see once you turned around. Keeping your eyes closed you spun around slowly, letting the anticipation eat away at you until you couldn’t take anymore. Usually you were so confident when it came to trying these pieces on, not giving a second worry to them – this time around you were nervous, as if this particular color scheme made you scared. You couldn’t let that hold you back, not after how far you have come, it wasn’t worth it.
Slowly you opened your eyes as you faced the mirror, the blue tint of the strip lighting giving a whimsy glow to your room. The focal point of your vision started to become clear as you looked at your face, makeup still immaculate and beautiful from earlier. But as your eyes panned down to your body, you felt a fresh wave of goosebumps flood your skin, a shaky moan leaving your lips. The yellow of the bra and thong complimented your figure wonderfully, amplifying the gorgeous glow of your skin. But truly it was the navy blue of your stockings and belt that made your body quiver; The royal deep color punctuating your sensuality with how you stood. You couldn’t believe this was you, in all your baren glory – a fucking goddess amongst men, you could send one to the hospital just with this set. You couldn’t keep your smile back any longer as you stared at yourself, admiring your body and its shape against the lingerie. All the worries, all the small doubts instantly fell away, your confidence skyrocketing.
You knew for a fact Yukio and Nega would hype you up, thinking this was totally you¸ and probably ask if you got it today. But those could wait, you needed to take photos – you needed to see what you looked like on screen. The giddy nature of what you were doing sent shivers through your body, the thought of what positions would look best making you grow excited. You decided that your go-to for new outfits would fit perfectly in this scenario. Who knows, you could save this photo for a rainy day when you wanted to tease someone. You grabbed your phone off of the bed as you dropped to your knees, the plush shag material of your lilac rug feeling lovely against your legs.
Parting your thighs, you left a good gap between both as you sunk yourself down. One hand came to press against the floor directly in front of your clothed core, tossing your hair over to the opposite side. As you held your phone in position with your free hand, you noticed how your arm was pushing your breasts together deliciously, deepening the cleavage, sending your eyes a shade darker. Pouting your lip as cutely as you do, you snapped a few quick photos, getting every great angle you could as you changed your hair direction. A blur of photos filled your camera roll as you felt yourself, “Juno” by Sabrina Carpenter coming across your playlist at the best time.
As you laughed to yourself, you finally stopped taking photos, sitting with your back against the bed and crossing your legs. Each photo you took was a masterpiece, amplifying your beauty by tenfold. But out of each one, it was the very first one that felt real, authentic to you. The others you were playing sexy up, trying to get the best fuck me look going, but it felt too artificial for your taste. It was the first one, the one where your eyes were dilated, where your nipples perked beneath the fabric, where your thighs trembled that made you feel like a God. It was a no brainer that this is what Yukio and Nega were getting, there was no way around it now. Clicking the share icon in your camera roll, you clicked on the first green bubble, eyes blurred from how excited you were about this risky photo. I’d be a lot tougher with claws.
You sent off the cheeky message without a second more thought to it, locking your phone instantly. As you tossed the device on your bed, you put on the silk bathrobe hanging off of the corner of your mirror, wrapping yourself up quickly. All that thirst-trapping made you thirsty, the dry mouth you were getting was too much for you. As you opened your bedroom, making it around to your kitchen of your apartment, you opened your fridge up quickly to grab a water bottle. The cold plastic in your hand brought you back to Earth, your body coming back into itself as your reality started to slip back in. The cap was popped off easily by you, finding its way across the quartz top. Bringing the bottle to your lips, you let them wrap around the opening, gulping down the cold liquid. It felt nice with how hot you felt, bringing your internal temperature back down as your mind cleared.
Ding. The tone of your phone going off made you stop drinking, catching your breath as you swallowed down the water. So lost in bringing yourself back to the present time, you forgot you had messaged the chat. You screwed the lid back onto the bottle as you set it on the countertop, promising to come back to it. As you made your way elegantly back to your room, that pull of nausea and nerves made you stop. Your stomach churned as you stood in the doorway, the threshold keeping you upright. That same feeling from earlier was back as you put on the lingerie, not knowing why you felt so nervous and scared all of a sudden. It made you confused, weary as to what your body was trying to tell you. It’s just Yukio and Nega, why are you being so flighty? Groaning to yourself, you rolled your eyes as you made your way back to your bed.
Plopping down onto the duvet, you sprawled out on your stomach as you grabbed your phone, using your face ID to unlock it. Yes you would. Colors look good on you. You cocked a brow at the message, reading the lines over and over again. It didn’t sound like Nega or Yukio to be so short-worded. Usually, they would send a plethora of emojis before screaming in all caps. But that was just the thing, your last message open wasn’t to the group chat, but one individual instead. It all made sense now, why you felt so scared and nervous. Your eyes went wide as you read the contact’s name, not seeing your groupchat. No, instead it read Logan. It wasn’t the groupchat that received the photo, it was him.
You screamed as you threw your phone across the floor, palms shaking as you sat up silently. The noise in your brain was too loud to focus, the intake of your breath and blood pulsing through your ears made everything too much. Anxiety was sitting in the back of your throat, threatening to spill your stomach out. You scrambled across the floor on your hands and knees to grab your phone, still unlocked from a few moments ago. Shaky fingers worked to unsend the photo, blessing the tech gods for that feature. You were too anxious to type, opting for speech to text instead. “I’m so sorry about that! I meant to send that to Nega and Yukio.” Seeing the wording typed out didn’t feel right, as weird as that sounded. Admitting it felt like a sin, more so than sending a sexy photo to The Wolverine. After all, wasn’t this your endgame anyways? It’s not like you haven’t deep infatuated with him since he became Wade’s friend, since you started hanging around him a lot more. Wasn’t it you who stated that by the end of the year, you’d kiss him? Wasn’t it you who said you would fight tooth and nail to make him yours?
Being sucked into your mind by your thoughts caused you to delay in sending your message, instead removing the text with your finger to completely disappear. Ding. Right as you were thinking of your response, you saw another message come through from Logan, one you didn’t anticipate. Put it back. Now. There was no way he said that, right? Oh, but there was. As your eyes shook from excitement, nervousness, and fear you could make out the small letters of Logan’s message, feeling his desire through the text. He wasn’t a big texter, he even said that himself – but to see him say more than two words was insane to you, even now when he was clearly enamored with you. There was no right or wrong way to reply, but no words you could think of held a light to the dominance Logan is showing.
Incoming FaceTime Call: Logan. The red and green buttons at the bottom made you stir, wondering if it would be a good idea to answer. This was one of his favorite ways to communicate, to see how things were going and what you were up to. Granted they never lasted more than two minutes because Wade would always hijack it but still – the little slivers of time you got with Logan was special. This time around though? It felt wired, like if you answered you’d get the shock of a lifetime. But what was life without a little self-indulgence? Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you fixed a few strands of your hair, pulling your robe a bit tighter around your chest as you sat back against the bed, letting your butt hit the floor as you got comfortable. Dragging your thumb along the green answer button, you positioned your phone a few inches away from your face, enough to get your collarbone up in the shot. A slow, pregnant pause caused by your phone’s connection delayed seeing Logan. But once it came to be, you were taken aback.
The dark of the early night was cresting behind his head, the sun starting to descend into the horizon. His eyes glittered against the holiday lights, causing your heart to swell. Once he looked back down at the camera, he couldn’t help himself but by staring at you, a small smile threatening to take over his lips. “Hey,” he let out with an airy breath, the slight chill of the night causing it to puff out. You felt yourself suck in a breath, the energy already charged. Reflecting his own smile, you sent your own through your phone as you waved. “Hi.” Usually you were a lot more talkative, teasing him to make him smile but – none of that felt right in this moment. Even with seeing his face on your screen, you could tell he was hiding something – not really saying what he wanted to. His eyes were black against the horizon behind him, no sight of hazel coming through.
“How’re you?” You managed to let out, your voice lower than usual as you let your legs stretch out, leaning further back against the side of the bed. Logan didn’t miss a second of your movements as he walked down the street, the light bustling of cars filling the sound barrier. From the buildings behind him, you could see he was downtown, more than likely heading to the bar for a quick drink. You silently wished he asked to meet you there, to hang out privately for once. But that playful glint in his pupils told a different story as he rounded the corner, staring down at you. “Did Wade tell you about my suit?”
Logan asked with a slight smirk, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as he watched for your reaction. Cocking a brow in his direction you tried to understand what he was asking, not sure what suit he meant. You knew that Logan was The Wolverine, it was no secret. But you never saw his suit, only meeting him a week after he jumped into your timeline. Shaking your head at his question, you pulled your lower lip between your teeth, gnawing on the skin to help combat the butterflies in your stomach. The swishing of your hair from side-to-side aiding in cooling you down. “Then what made you choose yellow and blue?” His smirk never let off as he asked, prying. He wanted to fully talk about the photo, he wanted to see if it was truly accidental or planned. Your mouth went dry when he asked, not having a concrete answer for why you chose that color scheme. Shrugging you tightly laughed, releasing your lip as you focused on your mirror. “I thought it was a pretty combination.”
Pretty, by association it was like you were calling Logan pretty. Even if you didn’t know about his original suit, still he associated himself with those colors. Logan mirrored how you were before, pulling his own bottom lip between his teeth as he chuckled. Struggling for a moment, Logan managed to flip his camera around to pan at his legs – the clean yellow and blue pants is all he had to remember his original suit. It caused your heartrate to pick up again, hammering in your chest as you got a brief glimpse at his clothed crotch. It took every fiber of your being to contain yourself, to hide the whimper clawing up the back of your throat. Lost in thought of what he could be hiding under there you didn’t notice how the screen flashed a few times – a text bubble popping up you couldn’t focus on. Logan took screenshots of your reaction.
The camera flipped back to Logan’s face, the heat cresting its way up your neck as you stared at him, your own pupils blown out. “Do you still think so?” He teased, dropping his voice down a few octaves. You could tell he was wearing his headphones to talk, making it more intimate for him to hear than everyone else. It sent your body up in flames at how you could say anything, and it would be only for Logan. “More than ever before.” It was a no-brained response, you didn’t have to think in order to speak. Your mind was already as alert as it was going to be, the filter around Logan you had previously no longer existed on this call. Logan stopped his walking to stare down at you, narrowing his eyes with a genuine smile as he licked his lips, nodding to himself.
Logan jutted his chin out towards the camera as he started to walk up another well-lit street, never taking his eyes off the camera. “You wanna show me what my colors are hiding under there?” He nodded towards your bathrobe, a sliver of the bra showing against the fur collar. There was one of two ways this could’ve gone, either play into it or shy away. This was clearly an attempt from Logan to see how far you’d want to go with him, really a test for if this was accidental. Mutual pining after one another for so long burnt you both out, so if it kept going there would be no tell when it would stop. The power was now in your hands, there wasn’t much else you could play with. Putting on your best innocent eyes, you let the pretty little smile fall to your mouth, puffing your lower lip out slightly. “Dunno – you sure you can handle it?” Game on.
The sassy tone you let on with your question had Logan’s pants tightening, his breath coming out in sharp bursts as he tried to control himself. Having animalistic tendencies meant that anytime he was aroused, he needed to stake his claim. Show the world who you belong to, who his mate was. Even if you didn’t know, he did. He could smell it on you any time you went past him, or when you looked at him. In another life, in another world you were his – and he planned to make you his on Earth-10005 as well. Huffing out a disbelieving laugh, Logan snorted as he stopped in his tracks, pressing his back against the brick wall of one of the local pubs. “I can handle you, missy.” Logan hissed, letting his eyes go naturally wide to signify how serious he was. The low growl seeping up from his throat made your body shiver, made your fingers work slowly to undo the ties on your bathrobe. “Don’t get it twisted.”
You couldn’t help but snort to yourself as you heard Logan say that, never expecting the 200-year-old man to say something so modern. Laughing lowly as you stripped out of the bathrobe, you let a sliver of your chest show, how your robe fell off of your shoulder. Logan’s eyes narrowed in to watch you take it off, the silk falling behind you. All that he could see was the plush skin of your breasts hanging slightly over the cups, nothing more. A weak moan slipped past his parted lips as he watched, needing to shut his eyes for a moment so he wouldn’t cum in his pants. You knew you had Logan right where you wanted him, letting you take the control back of the situation. It made you feel powerful knowing he was so weak for you, even if it was for a short period of time. “Ew, Wade needs to stop teaching you catchphrases of the early 2010’s.” You weren’t a tease all the time, you could see Logan’s labored breathing through the call, could tell he needed a distraction.
Your remark was enough to make Logan open his eyes again, staring at you with a predatory glint in his eyes; The whites almost impossible to see. “Why are you changing the subject?” He panted, standing upright again as he pressed his covered back to the wall, cocking a brow in your direction. You weren’t prepared for Logan’s retort, thinking you may have the upper hand while he was aroused, yet he always managed to surprise you. Sucking your teeth, you shook your head in confusion, rolling your eyes away from his gaze. “Aw, is someone flustered?” He pouted, smiling with a hint of smugness. Your mouth falling open in a silent gasp made him chuckle, finding it quite adorable how you’re trying so hard. The burning across your face was a clear indication to you that Logan was getting under your skin, trying his hardest to truly break you. It wasn’t in a callous or mean way, but more to show you who you belonged to. Putting the phone closer to his face so you could see only him, he made sure he was loud and clear. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll be nice and gentle.”
“Fuck off, Howlett.” You laughed as you rolled your eyes, exposing your cleavage to the camera without realizing it, your cool slipping through your fingers. The dead giveaway of how he was affecting you came in the form of your camera shaking, your fingers betraying you as you tried to suck in a deep breath. Looking away from the camera didn’t help when Logan stared like he was going to eat you alive, devouring you with every glint his eyes gave. You had to admit it to yourself, your confidence reserve was running out, completely going dry the longer you sat and talked with Logan. If he didn’t act now, he was forever going to hold his peace. “I’d rather fuck you.” It flowed off his tongue so elegantly, never deterring his steps as he managed to walk again. At first you thought you may have misheard him but, you heard him loud and clear, perfect in fact.
The shock written across your face, mixed with desire caused Logan’s restraint to snap. He moved away from the bars entrance and instead kept straight, letting the cold November air nip at him a bit longer. For the first time in a long time, you were speechless. Mouth hanging open, brow creased with a mix of shock and anxiety, you were going through it within seconds, all because of dear Logan. The confidence, the bravado, the je ne sais quoi you have held on the up and up finally slipping. Revealing itself when the shy version of yourself you thought you buried. The submissive angel, Logan had you wrapped tightly around his hand, reminiscent of his old cage fighting wraps. “Eye-fucking can only get you so far, princess.” Logan knew you wouldn’t pull away now, you were putty in his hands. But he could have a little fun with you, and boy did he plan to. It was a sure thought that you weren’t as obvious as you may have thought when staring at Logan, silently begging him to fuck you. The whole time, he knew.
“You’ve known?” It was a silly question to ask but Logan wasn’t stupid. He’s been around for more than 200 years, he could see through stuff as it came through. He is also very well known for retorting back no but I do now, pretending to know a secret as a way to coax you into telling him. You had to make sure this wasn’t like that – or else you’d implode. Logan nodded at you as the lights started to dim around him, a gentle glow from afar lighting the edges of his face. He was still outside but away from the light pollution, an alleyway most likely. Propping his phone up on the closest discarded shelf near a door, he nodded as he pulled out his flask. “No shit I’ve known, you can thank Yukio for that one.” Yukio, your friend. There was no malicious feelings towards her for telling Logan, in fact she may have done you a favor. But it got you thinking, who else did she tell? Was it one giant secret that the whole group knew, hence why they tried to push you both together constantly? “She tells Wade everything.”
And there it was, the shot heard ‘round the world. It made sense that she told Wade, and Wade blabbed to Logan – Yukio would never face the conflict head-on, it went through a source. Releasing the breath you were unaware you were holding, you nodded into the open air as you sunk further against the bed, a bead of sweat gathering on your hairline. The back of your throat felt tight, dry, highly uncomfortable for your own liking. Trying to swallow was like trying to fit a watermelon into a wine bottle, impossible due to how high your blood pressure was. Now that the light pollution of the city wasn’t creating streaks of orange across his screen, he could fully take in your shocked state – seeing the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. “What? You didn’t think I’d feel the same way?” Logan asked honestly, no longer keeping up the teasing. Seeing the distress on your face caused him to pull back, wanting you to tell him when it was good. He wasn’t going to push further; He didn’t want to ruin this.
The chord of your neck worked to string your words together, trying to find the best match to speak. Nothing felt, nor sounded right on your tongue; It drove you mad. “No, but I thought it was a fantasy more than anything.” You squeaked, coughing to bring some moisture back to your throat. Adjusting yourself on the floor, you brought the camera down a bit, pulling it further back for comfort – a typical position for you. Logan noticed though, how he could see you bright and clear as day, in your pale-yellow bra, that you had just for him. The slightly darker color of your nipple crept through the fabric, causing his pants to tighten, but he wouldn’t tease you further unless you felt better. “Can’t fantasies come true?” It was Logan’s last-ditch effort to ease the anxiety rising in your stomach. It helped, hearing him say that. It didn’t feel awkward anymore, it didn’t feel scary. It was beautiful, the start of something more.
“Are you sitting on the floor?” You pulled your camera back to pan it around yourself, showing off your little number as you sat, pulling your legs into a criss-crossed position. “Yeah, I got spooked off my bed thank you very much!” You stated with a smirk, showing how you were teasing. Logan liked how you said it, acting all sassy as you puffed out your bottom lip. It was cute, you looked precious to him. Everything about you made Logan feel alive, like his life was worth living instead of drowning it with the bottle. You made him want to be a better man, to settle down, start a family – anything you wanted he would give you even if you asked. That, is how much he loved you. “Flip your camera around.” He motioned, twirling his finger as he drank from his flask, groaning at the taste.
Obeying his command, you flipped your camera around as you showed him the mirror right in front of you. Waving cutely through it to him, you fluttered your legs as you sat, anticipation eating its way through you. Seeing the softness of your belly against your thong sent his mind spiraling, his eyes flickering to the fabric down further, hoping to God he could see your arousal. For a moment he took you in, how shy you were getting under his gaze. Hell, he could see the goosebumps forming themselves on your thighs, wanting to sink his teeth into the plushness of your flesh. Nudging his head towards you, his next command was on the tip of his tongue. “Spread your legs, c’mon.” The way it rolled out of his mouth like warm honey had your eyes wavering, threatening to roll back.
Slowly you began by uncrossing your legs, sticking your feet up absentmindedly towards the mirror, making sure to wiggle your toes under the stockings. It was a good tactic for teasing; Logan was living for your control. As your clothed claves hit the rug, you started to swing your legs open, letting each inch of the fabric rub against your soft legs. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, which didn’t go unnoticed by Logan, reveling in how responsive you are. “That’s it, good girl.” The fated words that made you lose yourself every time, fell out of Logan’s mouth so naturally. As he spoke that blissful name to you, finally your legs were fully open, able to see every little bit of you. It felt good, right to have his eyes on you. He wasn’t someone who could hide his emotions well nowadays, utterly losing it the longer he stayed with Wade. But in this moment you saw the true reserve on his face, the realization that even though he’s in some back bar’s alleyway, anyone could see him. The arousal coating his face, how his eyes focused harder to make out that tiny banana-yellow stain of your wetness on your panties, he was so lost in this moment. “Lean back, get comfortable. Eyes on me.”
“Yes, sir.” You nodded as you leaned back fully against the side of your bed. Reaching to your left, you grabbed at the tripod Nega got you for your birthday this year, shortening the neck of it to sit perfectly to your side. Shaky hands did not make for stable camera work. Something in the back of your mind said this would be the best thing for him; No shaky cam as he directed you, all hands free just for him, it was the perfect pick. Pushing your phone quickly into the top slot of the tripod, you placed your hands on the inside of your thighs, tickling the soft flesh as you awaited Logan’s next words. Beneath the lace, he could see your perky nipples pebbling at the mere instructions he was giving you – silently berating himself for not going over to your apartment and showing you why they call him an animal.
“You’re such a good listener. Don’t think, just do.” You weren’t even trying at this rate, you naturally fell into the submissive role so easily. A commanding personality like Logan always made you fold, obeying each word like it was spoken from God. It’s the reason it made you so special in the bedroom; It’s the reason Logan became obsessed with you. Seeing your submissive side slip through the cracks every now and again made him yearn, a man starved. He could have anyone and all he needed was you. “Listening so well for me.” It was what you could do well in this moment, even with the steady flow of blood pumping through your ears. The whooshing and thumping making it difficult to hear anything other than Logan; The current making room like Moses parted the Red Sea, only he shall walk on through. “Show me, sweetheart.” You felt like you were burning up, from the inside out. Cooking hotter by the words Logan was saying, not able to keep your cool anymore. The husk of his voice, mixed with the lucidness of the alcohol slipping around his tongue made you see stars. If it was possible, you’d cum just from his voice.
Antsy was a perfect descriptor of how you were feeling at the moment, suspense eating right through your chest as the insinuation in Logan’s voice. “Show you what, Lo?” Ah, yes. Your last semblance of control before Logan completely shit-stomped it. An irritated groan fell between Logan’s mouth as he slammed his hands against the wall, the shelving where you were propped up on shaking. His head dangled between his shoulders as he breathed heavily. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me.” That was the final straw, the endless teasing towards one another had finally broken. There would never be a way to go back from this, and you fucking thanked whatever or whoever was listening. Check fucking mate, Logan Howlett. That was all you needed to push forward.
You pulled at the side of your panties, swinging it onto the other side of your cunt as you opened your thighs up a bit more. The delicious stretch was aiding in the opening of your folds, letting the crisp air of your room lap through them. Logan drew his head up as he heard your silence, a painful growl slipping through his lips as he drew his brow together in pain. Nothing in this world could’ve prepared him for the sight he sees in front of him, the picture perfect gorgeousness, the thing he wanted tattooed on his brain. It was the purest form of Logan you could’ve possibly gotten; Veins of his neck bulging, eyes slanted so close to being closed, labored breathing like he ran a marathon. This was The Wolverine.
The sight on your phone made a fresh wave of your slick run out of your cunt, seeping onto the thin fabric between your cheeks. Using your first and forefinger to part yourself, you made sure to keeps your eyes on the mirror, eyeing the camera as you rubbed your pearly nub. The bead erect with arousal, begging to be touched. A simple flick of your finger across it had your entire lower half jolting. The sensation almost too much for your sensitive clit. Chewing on your bottom lip to help calm you down, slowly you began to make tentative circles with your first and middle finger, getting used to the sensation as your other hand slipped right under your bed to your secret box, one that no one would suspect.
Logan didn’t miss how you rubbed yourself so tenderly, loving yourself in the greatest way possible, while watching the perverse side of him come alive. He felt so naughty watching you masturbate, listening to his directions in the fucking alleyway. If he ran fast enough, he could be at your apartment before you made yourself orgasm, able to eat you out until you were crying for him to stop. No, this’ll do. He also didn’t miss how you reached frantically under your bed, eyes still on him as you grabbed a velvet bag. The purple glistened against the LED strips lights in your room, the multichrome coloring reflecting rainbows against your fingers. Quickly you worked the bag open, trying to grab at the first toy you could reach. Of course, it was not only the biggest dildo you had, but also happened to be yellow and blue. When Logan saw that, girth and all, he was roiling.
With how wet you were, you didn’t need lube to push your toy into you. Needy didn’t even touch upon how you felt. “Easy there baby, inch at a time. Ease it in, that’s it.” Logan cooed as you struggled to stretch around your toy, the burn already aiding in your arousal. Nodding at Logan’s words, you slowly inched the toy within your tight hole, never letting up on your clit to aid in the stretch. “L-Lo,” you moaned out quickly, eyes rolling back as your head lulled. If Logan was anything like this toy, you’d be unable to walk in the morning, you were hoping for that. “What, sweetheart? Feel too good?” Logan mewled as he gripped his tented cock through his pants, reveling in the harshness at which he was grabbing it. The bark he let out made your body shake, the thickest part of your dildo fully sheathed inside of you. “You deserve to feel this good honey, you’re the best girl.”
The praise was too much as you reached the base of the toy, your lower belly feeling so full of it. Carefully you pulled back on the toy, letting half of it out before you pushed it back in. The rigidness of the silicone rubbing against your spongy spot made you gasp, a throaty moan slipping into the night’s air, echoing throughout Logan’s headphones. “That’s my girl, nice and steady baby.” Logan had no idea what he was even saying anymore, or where he was going. All he knew was that his mouth was going and his feet were moving. Where they’d end up? He’d find out sooner or later. Palming himself as he steadily walked, Logan cut down the corner of the alley, making his way left. “Stretch that cunt out for me honey. I’ll fill you real soon.” Looking down at his screen all he could see was your blissed out face, the hearty stretch of your pussy around your toy, and the absolutely hot sight of your glistening body in his colors. “Just keep going, focus on my voice.”
Nodding at his words, you started to move the toy faster inside of you. The grip you had on the base helped it to conform to your cunt, filling in every ridge. Words escaped you in this moment, all you could do was focus on Logan’s face on your phone, watching how he never looked up at he walked, eyeing you like you were the World Series. Cresting behind your eyes was your orgasm, threatening to take you out with one swipe of your fingers. You couldn’t finish so soon, you wanted Logan to see exactly how it was for you. But there was no use, your arousal was so high, you were going to cum one way or another. The small squeak you let out caused Logan to stop in his tracks, glaring down at the phone will his full, undivided attention. “Look at the mirror baby, watch how sexy you are when you cum.” The breathy moan to which he released those words caused you to unleash the deepest groan you could muster, eyes blown out to nothing as you looked in the mirror.
Just like that, like the snap of your fingers, that string tethering you and Logan together snapped. Everything went white. Your ears rang as your throat became raw – yet no sound broke through. The sweetest coaxing could be heard miles away but yet it faded quickly. The world wasn’t spinning or moving for that matter. Instead, it was just staying still, letting you soak in this orgasmic bliss. Slowly the fog began to clear for you, your vision turning solid again as you watched the mirror. Heavy panting made up the sound coming back. The shaking of your body slowing down the longer you twirled the toy inside of you, rubbing your fingers deftly across your clit. Little by little, the blissful nature of your orgasm satiating that deep hunger looming in your chest. “That’s my good girl, making me so proud.” Logan’s tender voice cut through the staticky sound as your breathing steadiest itself. Licking your lips as you let your eyes wander around your room, you noticed that your tripod was a lot taller than you initially realized, almost looming over you as your fingers never stopped. Only that wasn’t your tripod, and that voice you heard was coming from directly beside you.
“Hi, princess,” Logan smirked into the mirror, meeting your gaze as you realized what was happening. It took a moment for it to register, wondering why he looked so much bigger now. Watching the figure of Logan reach between your legs in the mirror, it only clicked to you when you felt his grip close around the base of the dildo, pulling it out of you with cautionary ease. Shivering from the loss of girth within you, you snapped your head to the right as Logan caught your eyes. Smirking, he waved the wet dildo at you, chuckling as he threw it onto the bed. “H-Hey Logan,” you managed to let out, gulping down the pool of saliva in your bed. Nudging his chin behind you, Logan ran his calloused fingers over your chin, gripping your skin firmly. “Get on the bed.” It wasn’t an ask, it wasn’t a question. It was an order.
“Logan-“ you began, but were stopped when Logan grabbed at your throat, pushing against your pulse point with two fingers. The new sensation made your core clench around nothing, pulsating openly as you looked into Logan’s obsidian eyes, trying to make out what was going to happen. “Now.” Logan ordered, grabbing you by the neck and waist as he helped you up. Standing on wobbly knees was not a good idea, but damn it if it didn’t feel good. It took a moment to acclimate back into your body, Logan’s bodyweight kept you upright as you struggled. “Don’t make me tell you again, you won’t like that.” The threat made you want to break it, break him. Playing a brat for him would be a fun adventure, but the desperate nature of your arousal made you reconsider. Yet you were naturally doing it, and Logan was going to love punishing you later. “Very good girl.” Logan praised as you slowly sat back onto the bed, letting the silky material of the duvet caress your body.
How did he get in here? That was a question crossing your mind, nothing else but how. He wasn’t there all the time and you knew it, remembering that you were FaceTiming him. Narrowing your eyes in the direction of the bedroom door, you thankfully had a clear view to your front door, seeing that it was shut but – not quite perfect anymore. A smirk laid across your lips as you noticed the claw marks on the door, specifically around the doorknob, you assumed on both sides. Plus, the small splinter on top of his hand that he is currently picking out was enough tell for you. Logan had used his claws to unlock your door and get into your apartment. He was never going to the bar, this entire time he was walking to your apartment. It made sense now. This whole time he was coming to make you his. The revelation caused you to whimper out of pure love, no longer lust. Of course though, that didn’t last long. For what you saw next, shook you to your core.
Standing in between your legs was Logan fucking Howlett. The Wolverine. No longer did he wear his TVA jacket he was given earlier this year, but instead stood shirtless over you. The sweat on his body caused his chiseled physique to glisten in your room, his natural musk making your hornier by the second. His pants you had seen earlier of the same color scheme you are wearing, brushing wonderfully against your baren thighs. The reinforced nylon feeling like silk across your skin. Panning your eyes up to his hands, slowly Logan started to release his claws, inch by inch. A pained expression crossed across his mouth at the extension, but he fucking loved it. Why can I only see half of his face? As your eyes made their way upwards, no longer could you see his darkened eyes, instead replaced with something that shouldn’t have been considered hot. Across his eyes, around the top of his head was The Wolverine cowl, complete with, as Wade called them, blowjob handles. The animal himself, standing right between your legs.
You sunk back slowly on your elbows, stretching your legs open wider to fit all of him. Biting your lip, you looked up at Logan between your lashes, panting like a bitch in heat as you take him all in. “You want to see the real power yellow and blue really holds?” He growled, lightly tracing the dull edge of his claws against your sides. Yes, you do. Needless to say, this was the start of you wearing his colors, especially if this would happen every time.
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Tagging: @livelaughl0ve3 @mehjustalasshere @allen-444 @begaytotallygay @tezooks @hughj1d @pinkanonwriting @craziersarah98 @actuallybridgetjones
#logan howlett#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fanfic#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x f!reader#worst!logan howlett#worst!logan howlett fic#worst!logan howlett fanfic#worst!logan howlett fanfiction#worst!logan howlett smut#worst!logan howlett x reader#worst!logan howlett x you#worst!logan howlett x f!reader#worst!logan#worst!logan fic#worst!logan fanfic#worst!logan fanfiction#worst!logan smut#worst!logan x reader#worst!logan x you#worst!logan x f!reader#dp&w#deadpool 3#deadpool and wolverine#hugh jackman
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Yandere!Jinx x GN!Reader Headcanons
Y'know, in a way, canon Jinx is already a platonic yandere for Vi.
Jinx—Powder loves her. She clung to that love for so many years. And when she saw Vi again, God, she really did think that things could go back to... normal.
Then Caitlyn came into the picture. Her sister followed her willingly, became her company. Jinx wouldn't admit it, but jealousy and fear overwhelmed her. Her detestable hallucinations made a show for it.
She proceeds to kidnap them both. Playing with their lives. The whole lore stuff happens, but one thing's for sure—Jinx loves Vi. And that's only platonically.
So, does Jinx have the capacity to be an actual yandere? Yes. Yes, she does.
Mentally unstable, capable of killing without remorse, and obsessive—the whole package, sadly. I'm gonna go with the one-sided love for this headcanon specifically. I can't imagine her being in an actual relationship.
Alas, she's overwhelming. Her presence can be extremely suffocating.
Expect little to no boundaries or personal space. Honestly, just don't expect any sense of privacy from her at all. She'll pop up at anytime, anywhere, regardless of what you're doing.
Jinx adores you so much, and depending on your relationship, you can get her to do almost anything for you.
But remember, she's unpredictable, as always. She might do things that are completely out of sight.
For example, taking out that one topsider who whistled you over... What? Why are you upset?? You can't expect her to let that slide!
If you ever decide to ignore her, she'll simply follow you around—like a puppy almost—and quietly stare at you with her doe eyes.
You care about her. That's one of the many reasons why she fell for you. Even if it was out of pity—it doesn't matter. All she knew was that your actions felt genuine.
She gives you the same favor back in her own way.
Sure, she might not be able to comfort you like you comfort her, but look! She worked her ass off to make this music box for you! (Surprisingly enough, it doesn't explode when it finishes.)
"A fine tune made by yours truly, babe!"
Jinx has an intense fear and paranoia of you leaving her. She killed lost so many people. There are times where she'll keep her distance from you, but you and she both know it won't last long.
To counter her anxiety, she secures your safety in one way or another. Even if you can handle yourself.
At the very least, I don't think she'll kidnap you. She doesn't have to unless it's absolutely necessary.
But that's only because you're under her watch 24/7. If anything happens to you, it happens to her.
Please take note that she doesn't get along with jealousy well.
Be kind to her. Don't try, or even think, about leaving her.
Adding more stress won't end well for both of you.
btw jinx is doing this sign rn → 🫶😉
so silly tbh 🏄
#yan writes#yandere#yandere arcane#yandere arcane x reader#jinx x reader#yandere jinx x reader#yandere jinx
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this is actually making me think so many things about their relationship. like this is probably what it was like in calmer times. jimmy's manipulative and extremely dependent on curly, almost obsessed with him, both hating and idolizing him as this sort of perfect figure, almost christ-like in just how kind and good of a man he is - in jimmy's mind, curly readily offers himself as a villain just so that jimmy can be a hero (also more of a side-comment but i find it really neat how jimmy's perspective poisons all character interpretations - his conflicted yet adoring view of curly is most likely the main reason why some of the fandom also view curly in this sort of white or black morality system, where a lot of people also make him out to be this mister perfect guy who did everything he could and fell victim to jimmy's scheme, when curly is definitely not innocent and played a huge part in what happened on tulpar - they view him as entirely good, just like jimmy, instead of a flawed, average man with his own issues. anyway.)
it's established that they are good friends - best friends, even, going off of curly's behaviour, have been for years. which means that jimmy had years to normalize his behaviour to curly - to foster and nurture this sort of acceptance and depedence. like with many abusive relationships, it probably started small and then just grew over time - and curly's far too kind, far too accepting, and was all too receptive to jimmy's many issues and abrasive nature. so it probably went from those small things that curly felt he owed jimmy for and then escalated until the connection was established and was impossible to sever.
it's a similar sort of dynamic to emotionally slash mentally abusive relationships where the partner suffers but is so used to it it's easier to close their eyes because this is normal - oh he's just tired, he didn't really mean that, he just has some anger issues, it's not that bad. curly is an enabler - that much is true. curly is not a good man. he's not a paragon of virtue. he allowed this to happen. but i would also argue that he became an enabler because jimmy lovingly molded him into one over the years.
i think that at some point it also became a sunk cost fallacy issue - curly genuinely believes in jimmy, that he can help him, that he can fix him, because they've been good friends for so long and curly cannot give up on him after all this time. there were also probably times when jimmy did do something good and nice for him in return - like that thing with the cake that jimmy made for him, along with curly's other friends, so the relationship did not feel as one-sided as it probably was. anyway i think that jimmy is manipulative and abusive to curly as well, just on a scale that was smaller and more constant, persistent, to the point where both of them normalized it with jimmy's nudging into the direction he wanted it to go. their flaws fit together perfectly and it was bad and normal until it was too late.
hell, not to be a jimmy apologist (derogatory), but it's entirely possible that jimmy wasn't even doing that consciously and purposefully - while he is manipulative and self-centered to a horrendous degree, he's also not exactly an impeccable master manipulator or a complete narcissist the way he's sometimes painted as. the only one out of the crew he's really able to fool, besides curly who was exposed to him for years, is daisuke - who's young and naive and of course he trusts the authority figure that's higher in rank when jimmy pushes the right lever. jimmy's pathetic and self-serving and he feels small and curly is just way too nice and is conviniently always right next to him - and seems willing to take whatever jimmy hurls at him, all because they're friends.
additionally, look at how curly basically ignores jimmy's remark about how annoyed it makes him feel when people keep saying how great curly is - makes me think it's far from the first time jimmy made a disparaging comment like that. one could even interpret the way curly bonelessly accepts the things jimmy does, without ever really pushing back hard - only ever attempting to defend himself at the birthday party after jimmy's outburst - as curly being at the very least apprehensive or fearful of what an angry jimmy might do. because curly knows that jimmy is unstable - so maybe him never really doing anything even after learning the magnitude of what happened to anya isn't just him trying to keep up appearances and placing jimmy above anya or protecting jimmy because jimmy is his friend. i think that it's entirely possible that curly's passivity is him attempting to appease jimmy, as is typical for someone on the recieving end of an abusive relationship.
just to reiterate, this does not excuse curly. he's not this great, perfect nice guy or a perfect victim. he did not deserve to suffer the way he did but he is the one who ultimately caused the tragedy by his inaction. he failed anya, most of all, and the rest of the crew miserably. but i do think that an abusive dynamic between him and jimmy would explain a lot about his passivity.
Uhh what funny do I write here like haha
#mouthwashing#“i can fix him” no the fuck you cannot#like the art is honestly pretty cute and is kinda funny but also#it makes me feel a lot of things#curly#jimmy#op im sorry for hijacking your nice art with a wall of text#i just really think that these two didn't just have this weird toxic codependent friendship#jimmy being abusive to seemingly the only person who loves and accepts and tolerates him would explain a lot about why curly is like this
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got uty au pilled again, sorry... more info under the cut
an AU where ceroba, in the end, refuses to inject kanako with the serum. even after all her research, she just can't trust that it's totally safe. while kanako accepts this, she still wishes she could eventually be of use somehow, and indirectly blames herself for her father's death.
despite all this, with kanako alive, ceroba is able to grieve chujin in a far less desperate way, still having her daughter by her side. as the years go by, ceroba devotes more and more of her time to finishing chujin's research in hopes of finally making a serum that can save the underground. kanako is determined to help, too -- together, they clean up chujin's lab and make it a far nicer place to work, because they're in this together now. well, in theory.
ceroba still certainly takes care of kanako and does her best to be a good mother, but as time passes, ceroba spends more and more time in the lab trying to find an answer. kanako, being the social butterfly that she is, can't bring herself to always stay shut inside like her mother; she travels daily to Oasis Valley, making friends and becoming the town darling. as ceroba spends more time working, kanako spends more and more time taking care of the estate, trying to spend time outside whenever possible.
but it gets kind of lonely. the ketsukane estate is off outside of Oasis Valley, and not many people come by. she's worried about her mother, who's been shutting her out as she becomes more desperate to find a solution. there's only so much to do at the house.
then, clover falls into the underground and explores the dunes. there are barely any other kids at this spot in the underground -- finally, someone around her age! she's immediately entranced by them and determined to become their friend, even after finding out they're a human -- that just makes them cooler...!
but there's a problem; kanako has seen her father's tapes, she knows that a human soul would be extremely valuable to producing the serum. of course, she wants to help save the underground, and she wants her mother to finally be rid of stress and be able to spend time with her again... but after spending time with clover, kanako knows there's no way she can let clover die. they're like the sibling she never had...
and kanako can't even let her mother know that clover exists, either; she knows exactly what will happen if ceroba finds out there's a human here. and yet, a secret part of her wishes and hopes that maybe, just maybe, ceroba could find value in clover as a person and then they could all live in the ketsukane estate together. it would be a dream come true! maybe there's even some way clover can help ceroba without having to give up their soul...?
but things aren't destined to work out that way. any number of things could happen.
clover could peacefully move on in their quest through the underground, leaving a sad and lonely kanako behind.
or, ceroba finds out about clover in one way or another, and things are not looking good. but would she choose to take clover's life at the cost of her daughter's one and only friend?
what if clover didn't come in peace, but in vengeance?
or maybe ceroba somehow accepts clover, growing to respect them after all is said and done, and she tries to experiment on a living human soul?
or maybe, wracked with grief and loneliness, kanako discards her mother's warnings and takes the new, updated serum herself, determined to become the hero for her family like she always wanted...?
or, something else could happen.
what if, after an unhappy ending, kanako wakes up on that same day again, waiting for clover to come by the ketsukane estate for the first time? she doesn't even know how it's possible, reliving the same few weeks over and over. she just wants to find her happy ending, and she'll search and search for as long as she needs to.
how long can she watch the same endings play out over and over?
#undertale yellow#uty#kanako ketsukane#uty au#clover uty#timeloops#you may be asking Goomy do the timeloops have anything to do with determination. how did kako get determination#my answer: Idk.#i just knew i wanted to put her in a timeloop for funsies ok#Lets all pretend she somehow SOMEHOW has more determination than flowey for WHATEVER reason. If you want.#OR this can be entierly unrelated to determination. i like this excuse better#there's no telling if anyone outside of flowey Actively Remembers saves/reloads#even the person supposedly doing the reloading like clover or frisk#IDK MAN. A LOT OF STUFF IS UP IN THE AIR I JUST WANTED TO PUT KANAKO IN HIGURASHI OK#TIMELOOPS HOORAAAAAY#goomyart#doodles#edit: ORRRR flowey helps kanako save instead of clover for some reason#why he would do this idk. maybe he wants a better ending too#and kanako is a faster way to access that rather than clover. Idk
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Strong Men Gym
On a quiet night, Clyde is walking home from the gym on a lonely and scary path.
In the meantime, he felt eyes staring at him. He tried to run faster, but felt like he was running in the same place.
Suddenly, a large number of black hands grabbed him. Clyde, who was a strong man, felt weak. He tried to escape but failed.
Many hands grabbed him and ran their fingers over his muscles curiously. Suddenly, a voice whispered in his ear, “This is a good opportunity.”
Suddenly, Clyde woke up from his nightmare. His breathing became a little labored, but people outside could hear him. “Honey, are you okay?” Clyde’s young husband, Theo, who had lived with him for several years, greeted him with concern.
Clyde: It's okay, honey. I was just dreaming.
Theo showed a slightly worried look when he saw Clyde's tense expression. He said with concern, "Darling, are you sure you're okay if you're not feeling well? We can postpone our date."
Clyde smiled and pulled Theo into a hug. Our date today was going to be special. Clyde kissed Theo's neck like he always did. Just seeing your face made me feel so good.
Today Clyde and Theo are very happy, they dated in many beautiful places, it is a beautiful feeling for them like a flower in a beautiful field.
As they were heading home, he saw a new gym opening near their house. Remembering his nightmare last night, he chose to go to the gym here instead of the old one, which was quite far from home.
The next day he went to play at this fitness center. He was impressed when he found the modern, clean exercise equipment and the spacious area in the fitness center. There was a lot of air conditioning but there was no smell of sweat at all because of the special air conditioners.
When he finished playing, he decided to sign up for a fitness membership. It was great that this fitness center had a lot of options for people to exercise. He could play with people without being disturbed. Many of the rules were the same as his old gym.
But there is one rule that Clyde particularly likes: the gym offers free chicken breasts and protein for members, which saves him the trouble of having to go out and buy these items during his workout. Plus, the chicken breasts and protein here are of high quality.
After Clyde started going to the gym here, he really liked it. Whether it was the convenience or anything else, Clyde felt that his muscles looked noticeably better, even though it was strange that he always felt strangely comfortable after he finished going to the gym.
One day, while he was playing fitness as usual, he suddenly felt strangely unwell. He thought that it might be because his workload had increased, making him tired, so he decided to go to the fitness shower room and he didn't forget to take a picture in front of the mirror to post on social media as he likes to do.
When he took off his clothes to reveal his hot body, he slowly got into the shower and started to take a shower. He loved the feeling of the water running over his muscles, and the gym soap and shampoo had a very special smell.
When he finished washing his body, he was about to get out of the shower but he felt that his body was very heavy, causing him to bend down to the floor. When he felt that his body was getting heavier, his legs started to become uncontrollable.
His muscles visibly tensed, his arms became uncontrollable as if they weren't listening to his commands, his eyes rolled to the side, he started to groan, the vision gradually darkened, Clyde's body blacked out.
As time passed, Clyde's body slowly rose up as if nothing had happened, his face showing the utmost satisfaction. "This was worth the wait."
As time passed, Clyde's body slowly rose up as if nothing had happened, his face showing the utmost satisfaction. "This was worth the wait."
Clyde's body walked to the control panel for the staff to enter a special passcode for high-level members.
This is a top secret project of a rich man who has created a special nano cell that can penetrate every touch. This nano cell will enter the body of the person who touches it. It will gradually adjust the body and mind of the person who touches it to be ready for the possession.
However, due to the limitation that nanocells must be present in large quantities in the body, and the lifespan of nanocells is very short, in order for the host's body not to think that nanocells are a threat to the host's body, the host that will be possessed must receive nanocells regularly so that nanocells can still work effectively.When Clyde's body confirmed that he could possess Host's body, he received a message through the circuit board. He received, "Thank you for using our service. We will take care of your old body so that you can live comfortably. Please accept this."
Suddenly, a strange Sim popped up from the screen. Clyde pulled it out with a message that said, “A special Sim, if placed at the nape of its neck, will disintegrate. It will issue a command to the nanocell to access the host’s memories so that you can gain the host’s memories.”
He quickly did as the message said and soon he had all of Clyde's memories. He groaned in his throat as the memories flooded back to him.
Clyde, this body's name is Clyde, you have a cute little husband, I will take care of him. You probably don't know that ever since you came to this fitness center, you have received a large number of nano cells. Every machine you exercise, every chicken breast you eat, every protein you drink, every water you shower in the fitness center, even the soap or shampoo, everything in here has nano cells, even the air from the air conditioner. When he finished speaking, he noticed his erect penis.He began to masturbate by using his beautiful hands to quickly stroke his 13-inch cock up and down.Every time he touched a new cock, he felt like he was about to reach his climax. Soon, warm semen would shoot out from the tip of his cock and splash all over his chest. He used his tongue to lick the white liquid on his body. “It tastes so good. The taste of a real man.”When he cleaned himself up, the new Clyde was getting dressed. Instead of choosing the other clothes the real Clyde had prepared to change into after his workout, he called out to the original shirt that was sweaty and smelled like the real Clyde. He sniffed the sweaty smell of the shirt before putting it on. “This smells so manly.” When he was done putting it on, he walked out as if nothing had happened. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Clyde turned to take a picture of himself in the mirror. “I didn’t forget to take a selfie, haha.”
When they got home, the new Clyde didn't hesitate to rush in and kiss Theo hastily. I'm sorry, honey. I need it so bad right now. Theo, although slightly shocked that his husband's day seemed rushed, didn't refuse. He pushed his body against Clyde's erect penis in his pants. "Start, honey."
After a hot night of sex, Theo hears Clyde getting ready to go out the next morning. "Honey, where are you going?" Clyde turns around and answers immediately, straightforwardly.
I want to go play some sports with my friends. Will you allow it, my love?… Not right away, Clyde could speak. Theo answered quickly. “Sure, my love, but don’t be too late.” Clyde walked over and kissed his husband goodbye. Thank you for the hug.
When he left the house, the new Clyde didn't forget to take another selfie to share on his social media channels.
I am the same person in a new body. I am so excited to use my new body to play sports instead of my old fat body. Suddenly, a message popped up from his account, “You have received $1,000,000.” Great, the company works very fast. Now I have pocket money for my new one.
Oh but before I go play sports with my friends I have to deal with the hard penis in my pants first and luckily there is a bathroom nearby I will have a lot of fun with my new dick hahaha
Thank you for reading until now. I tried to write longer stories and add more details because I got some advice from my friends. I hope you guys like it. I'll push for the next story.
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X Si Volvemos
ex older bf!logan x younger fem!reader
summary: there are many things you and logan disagree in; but not when it comes to things in bed.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (phew), smut, ex!logan, exes to ????, p in v, creampie, reader's in her early to middle twenties so her frontal lobe hasn't developed yet; don't expect any reasonable thinking on her side, logan is on his middle to late 40s, angst (duh), this happens in an AU where mutants don't exist bc i don't wanna complicate myself with timelines lol hence time isn't really important but it's contemporary, the vibes i bring to the function are more sad than horny and i'm sorry, toxic too! may build a series around it?
word count: 1,925 words
side note: the incredible @bpmiranda's got me with a very bad case of ex!logan fever :( plus after listening to karol G's album mañana será bonito and seeing i may or may not be obssesed with romeo santos, i got the song in the title on loop: as you can see, it's all very fitting ++ don't forget to check out her stories, they're so good istg!!!!
You shouldn't call.
"Logan" you speak. His name burns in the tip of your tongue, like a secret you're not supposed to tell.
He shouldn't answer.
It's quiet at first on the other line, until a rough voice says I'm here, appearing to be distant, but who is he trying to fool? As soon as he saw the number pop on the screen, his fingers moved with a learned urgency.
You shouldn't keep calling.
"I need you" three words to cover those you actually mean; hanging in the spaces between the silence.
I miss you. I love you.
Your hear a heavy sigh on the other end.
He shouldn't keep answering.
"Princess..." Logan pleads, "don't do this"
You know better than that, he wants to say, but keeps his mouth shut. Just to hear your voice, just to-
"Please, Lo" you whine out. Logan grabs his jeans with force, the fabric strained under his white-knuckled grip. It takes him a lot not to run to you right there and now.
"Don't" but his voice cracks as much as his resistance.
"I've got the house" you whisper the prayer; a routine so sacred none of you seem to break it, "just for us"
"Y/n" even saying your name is painful; like the most addicting and damaging drug to ever exist, "stop"
Logan loved your stubborn heart, but there are times where he wishes you weren't like this.
"I'm sorry" and then he hangs up.
I'm sorry for not being who you needed. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I keep on coming back after I said I would leave you alone. I'm sorry I can't keep my promises.
You feel it around your neck―bruises in the vocals your voice has failed to scream; it chokes you with rage.
"Are you stupid?" you ask yourself in the mirror.
What are you doing? Why are you doing this to yourself? Do you love him more than you love you?
You dial again, but this time, it's a girl who picks up.
"Yeah?"
"Hi. Wanna go out?"
Logan feels so out of place, but this used to be your favorite bar, and he's desperate for a drink.
Listening to your voice has always made him weak, but after you broke up, it drives him crazy.
He empties another glass, feeling pathetic. This is how bad it's gotten: you've got him scouring the places you used to go, chasing your ghost, trying to get a glimpse of your silhouette or a whiff of the phantom of your scent, the lavender haunting him; getting under his skin.
A song beggins playing, and it's the same vinyl set from two years ago. The night he met you: a pretty young thing so out of place in an old bar like that, playing hard to get, only to end the night moaning over him, fogging his car's windows, saying his name in a way no one else had before. He still remembers the way your legs trembled but he held you, beads of sweat confusing themselves with the glitter on your skin. Logan doesn't know what that is, but he's marveled, so in awe of you, everything of you: young, new, exciting.
But every new thing wears out, and the gap he swore wouldn't matter came crashing in years that built a distance between him and you.
So he did what he did best: ruin it. Deny the feelings bubbling inside; let them consume his reasoning, pushing you like he had done with everyone who cared about him before.
When he broke your heart, he took a part with him. So you keep coming back, looking for it; trying to piece yourself together. And he let's you: because God knows you have a part of himself too.
He's so drunk he probably imagines the hint of lavender in the whiskey tinted air. He's so desperate to see you again, he's seeing your face among the crowd. He's definitely gone insane: hearing that laugh he misses every day.
"Y/n..."
The music pauses: all you can hear is your name being said in that way like it belongs to him.
"...Logan"
He walks in autopilot over to the table you and a group of girls are sitting. They're all beautiful―beautiful people attract beautiful people, but he's only got eyes for you.
"What are you doing here?"
He raises a glass he didn't know he was carrying, "having a drink".
Your lips purse, and Logan doesn't know if it's because you're laughing at him or sad.
"I see" but you divert your gaze, looking at your outfit's neck. The outfit you chose: a black dress that pushes your tits on top. They are on display, and Logan feels played by you―his eyes trained on the strained fabric, tongue watering like it did when he would lick your sensitive nipples.
"I see too" he says in automatic, and one of your friends laughs. He looks away, thanking the low lights, or you'd see the red embarrassment on his face.
You stand up and walk over to him, and your friends sense it's time to leave the two of you alone.
"Why did you hang up?" you throw the question so casually; the nerve you have.
"What do you mean?" it's the only thing that comes to his mind. Very stupid, indeed.
You scoff, "delete my number, then"
"You keep on calling" he bites back.
"And you keep answering"
You never shut up. He hates that.
"I may have to stop"
You get closer, way too closer. So much, your hot breathe clouds his judgment.
"Try to" you dare.
And he tries, he really tries. But not today.
Not today when he takes you home, finally looking complete with you in it again. You had moved out after your last discussion, saying you'll never be back.
"You haven't changed a thing" you murmur in between kisses, and he can sense a bit of melodrama in his voice that makes him roll his eyes despite the dull ache on his chest.
He picks up your body swiftly, carrying you up to the bedroom.
"Why would I?" he asks, voice so low and small you almost miss it.
"Because you hate me" you avoid his eyes, even if your faces are too close, loosing all that corageous character of yours, "said you would get rid of it; of everything that reminded you of me"
But when he drops you softly on the matress, there's still that lamp you got him in the night table.
"I couldn't" he confesses.
I couldn't, he means, because I couldn't let you go.
But you both know it won't work out, something you knew right from the start: because toxic loves only fulfill basic needs. This isn't healthy, but he forgets it all as soon as you're moaning his name. Still, he promises himself he will say goodbye to you this time, even if it's inside of you.
"Shut up and kiss me, then" you're always pushing him around, making him do the things he desires to but doesn't want to do.
So he obliges, leaning in, the lavender so strong all over your sweet skin, poisoning his mouth on every kiss he leaves. He feels you squirm under him, goosebumps along your skin, prickling against his, so visible he can see and feel it even in the dim lit room.
"Take it" Logan doesn't look at you, but when he does, you feel him stare deep into your soul, "I know you want it"
He's sliding his dick inside you as soon as the sentence is over, the permission to take you and use you implicit. He robs a drawn-out groan out of you.
"So tight for me" he murmurs against your shoulder, sharp breaths and soft groans flooding your ears. His cock hits deep within you, hard thrust no one has ever been able to replicate, making you gasp for air, burying your face in the plush pillows now drenched in your sweat.
"You're so deep" you hiss, hot and overwhelmed, waves of pleasure hitting like water against cliffside rocks. "So big, Lo" you whine, dizzy at the way your pussy stretches for him.
"Just for you" he grunts out, and it's the truth. No matter how dark the room is or how many faces he avoids, he always looks into the eyes of the other women he fucks, his heart sinking when he can no longer pretend it's you, "fuck, squeeze a bit more".
Hearing his deep voice, rough when you fuck, always making you soak, coating his dick in your juices. You grip tight, as tight as the nails that hold onto his shoulders, making him moan at the pain.
"Like that, princess. Good girl" you moan at the praise, "I know you could take me, all of me"
He grunts and pants, holding you tighter as his cock pumps faster, in sync with your now closer to happening orgasm.
Before it, he slows down his thrusts, "where do you want me to cum, princess?"
He wants to, inside of you, but he can't do so, not when he promised he wouldn't ruin your life. But making you his, marking you as only his, makes his dick inside you twitch. Fuck, he's so balls deep inside you all he can think is filling you up silly.
"Inside me, Lo" like you read his thoughts, and it always amazes and scares him; how deep inside his mind you are. Never happened, not in his four decades of life. And that's part of the problem: he's closer to death than you are but it's only with you, young―blossoming with life, that he feels truly alive.
So how can he say no, when you plead and beg with those pretty doe eyes of yours? Who could imagine such a sweet thing to be so needy. He feels like you could ask for his heart, and he'd carve a hole in his body for you―bleeding out of love; dying with a smile.
"Such a greedy little thing, princess" he mocks, but his tone betrays him―dripping in adoration, "want me to fill you up all nice?"
A broken wail is what he takes as your answer, your mind in blank.
He finds himself letting go, way faster than he should; he just misses you and your needy dripping pussy that much. You can't hold back longer either, rush flowing through your veins, much more satisfying than the alcohol you had drank an hour ago.
Logan paints your insides with layers of his hot cum, mumbling a soft:
"Anything for my princess" he keeps going, panting as he's milked entirely dry, "anything you want, my girl"
Your vision is still spotty, mind fogged: you're sure that's the reason the hurt hasn't settled in your heart yet.
Then the silence comes, like it always does now.
"Y/n" you always love when he calls you by your name, but you hate the way he's saying it now. Like a goodbye.
"Don't-" you plead, begging he shuts up. But he pulls out, and says:
"It's for the best"
You don't want what's best. You want him.
"Can't believe you wore this dress" he traces the pattern of the tight clothes, damped in sweat, "you know it's my favorite. Why?"
You fail to supress a smile, even if it's tired and almost sad, "I knew you couldn't say no".
The truth is, you know many things: like how this is never going to stop until it's destroyed you both.
#dilfistquickwrites#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#logan x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#james logan howlett#dofp wolverine#old man young girl#logan howlet x reader#logan angst#x men#the wolverine#wolverine angst#xmen smut#logan fluff#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett angst#logan howlett imagine#wolverine imagine#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fanfiction#logan drabble#wolverine drabble#marvel#marvel smut
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I have actually never really sent a prompt to anyone . So idk how much to ask for or how to really give one . But I guess some idea of
118 responding to a horrible bar fight and they find Tommy seriously injured. Buck sees the guy who did it at the scene and he gets furious.
Idk if I asked right lol
Here you go <3 I hope you like it!
(gonna kill two birds with one stone here)
Fuck It Friday
tagged by @bidisasterevankinard & @nine-one-wanton & @lavenderleahy love you all! thank youuu!
(TW: homophobia and racism)
Buck tries to hide just how many times he pulls his phone out, opens the screen and checks to see if Tommy is typing again. He keeps it down by his leg, turns his back to the rest of the team, even hides out in the bathroom a couple times just to stare at the spot where for such a brief moment Tommy was considering saying something… but then changed his mind.
It’s late and he’s laying on one of the top bunks, eyes fixated on the screen, when Eddie pushes the door open. “Come on Buck…” he sighs. “You gotta give it a rest, man.” Buck tightens his hand around the phone, anticipating Eddie trying to snatch it away again, but he doesn’t. Instead he slumps down to the bottom bunk and goes quiet, leaving Buck alone with that very minimal advice and still no more bubbling.
The bell rings just as Buck is starting to doze off.
A bar fight; a bad one at that. They arrive on the scene and Eddie pulls the ambulance up and parks it right behind the engine. The customers are scattered all around the dirt lot, some talking to each other, some on their phones, some talking with police. Bobby said Athena was the first to arrive, but she’s not outside so Buck assumes she’s in the bar talking to the owner.
One of the bartenders directs them towards a guy sitting hunched over on a bench, holding his face. Eddie goes to him and Buck follows, while Hen and Bobby head inside to where people are saying the more severely injured victim is— or maybe it’s the perpetrator… they aren’t exactly sure what even happened yet. Eddie starts on cleaning the man’s busted brow, and examining the black eye already forming around it. Buck pulls an instant cold compress out and offers it to him for the swelling. All the while the man drunkenly rambles on about how the owner has let the place go to shit… letting just anyone in. Not caring about the patrons who funded them for years with their business.
Buck listens to his hate filled tirade, but only partially, also tuning in to a server who is telling Athena’s new rookie about what happened. How the guy Eddie was working on had antagonized the whole thing. She seems extremely worried about the other guy taking multiple kicks to the stomach and to the head. “He wasn’t even bothering anyone,” she says, voice shaking from crying. “He was just talking to Darlene about—” she pauses and gives a soft tearful laugh. “Well, he kept calling him ‘his Evan’. But he was so sad because he said he wasn’t really his anymore.”
It was as if all the sound around him vanished, and his feet were moving before his brain could register where they were going.
A hand on his chest stopping him from crossing the bar snaps him out of it; it’s Athena. She’s wearing that stern Sergeant Grant look, though it’s fraying around the edges with worry. “Is it him…” Buck starts, looking past her to where Hen is knelt down. Athena purses her lips, furrows her brows… and nods. Buck sucks in a sharp breath and tries to bypass her— he could easily bypass her if he wanted to, but he won’t. He allows her stiffened arm pushing against him to hold him back. “H- How bad is it,” he asks, fighting back against the tears rushing to his eyes.
“He’s pretty banged up, but he’s in good hands,” she gestures back towards where Hen is working feverishly over— over Tommy. Buck feels like he might pass out. Athena moves so she is in his line of view, and his focus is back on her, then gives him a sympathetic look. “Now I need to go out there so I can arrest the man who did this… soon as Eddie is done with him; and I need you to try to stay calm and not do anything… rash.”
Buck clenches his jaw, looking over her once again towards Tommy; he can barely see him for the tables and chairs, and multiple first responders hovering around where he’s sprawled out on the floor.
Athena squeezes his arm and he reluctantly follows her to stand outside. “Just wait here, okay…” she says, before walking over to Eddie and the man who hurt Tommy— his Tommy. He glares over towards them, his blood is boiling. He clenches his jaw tighter, gritting his teeth together.
The guy looks up at Athena as she starts explaining that he has been identified as the perp, and she is arresting him. Before she can begin reading his rights, though, he leaps up— eyes bulging, lips pulled back in snarl, a finger pointing angrily right in Athena’s face. “I’ll be damned if I’m getting arrested for this; for– for doing a public service,” he spits. Athena stares at him, unfazed. “Besides, he attacked me!” The man gestures towards his face.
“He did not!” The server snaps back. Athena offers her a smile, putting a hand up for her to not argue with him.
“I see what he did to you, and after the story I heard— about all the things you were in here ranting and raving about, with your chest puffed out like you're some big man just ‘cause you’re supposedly brave enough to say the all hateful things on your mind— hell, I can’t say I would have blamed him for doing more.”
The man sneered, but stepped back. “Yeah, I figured someone like you would sympathize with someone like that. I guess I might as well chalk this up to being demonized for being the normal one.”
“I’m sure you demonized yourself, all by yourself,” Athena says with an eye roll. She shoves him around and handcuffs him. “And I’m sure you’ll easily demonize yourself among your fellow inmates as well… though I highly doubt you’ll get lucky enough to get the upper hand again.”
She grabs his arm and leads him towards her patrol car, passing Buck while keeping a good distance from him. It doesn’t stop the man from looking over and catching Buck’s name tag. “Buckley…” he says, then chuckles. “As in Evan Buckley…” he throws his head back and fully laughs. “So you’re the one he was in there sniffling over like a poor love sick fa—” Buck is charging at him before he can finish the slur… they can fire him for it; who cares. He is stopped by Eddie, and held back long enough for Athena to get the man in her car.
Eddie loosens his hold and Buck shoves him the rest of the way off, then turns towards the bar. He can hear Eddie calling after him, he just doesn’t care enough to listen to anyone on what they think he should do anymore. Right now he just wants to see Tommy.
“Buck,” Bobby says, moving towards the door as he comes in. Buck walks past him, shying out of the way of the hand reaching for his shoulder. He pushes through the people, and reaches Hen just as they are getting the gurney lifted up onto its wheels.
He sees Tommy.
His shirt has been cut open and dark bruises are covering his torso from the man’s boots. His arm looks broken. His face— Buck sucks in a sharp breath— his face is unrecognizable. He wants to run to him, but he can’t move.
The jolt of the gurney locking into place causes him to stir. He groans and lolls his head to the side. “Easy there, Tommy.” Hen says, gently laying a hand on him so he doesn’t move.
“H- Hen?” Tommy turns his head towards her, but both of his eyes are so swollen and completely shut. “Oh god… Ev— B- Buck… he’s not here, is he? I don’t want him to see this…” His lip trembles and it takes the broken pieces of Buck’s heart and grounds them to dust.
Hen looks at Buck, and Buck shakes his head. “No, he— he was man behind for this one,” she lies. “He’s not here.”
Tommy breathes, it comes out haggard. “I– I’m so stupid, Hen… I- I was so scared and I hurt him. I didn’t— I didn’t mean to; I didn’t want to. ” Hen looks over the gurney at Buck. Buck still can’t move, he can’t speak, he can’t breathe. “I- I need to tell him I’m sorry. I was going to text him but— I can’t do it over a text…”
Hen encourages him to lie still, and save his energy. “You’ll get the chance to tell him Tommy,” she says, flicking her eyes to Buck.
“I– I love him, Hen… I want him back…”
Buck’s heart clenches; it feels like it's being ripped straight out of his chest. “I know you do,” Hen says softly, still looking at Buck. The gurney is taken away, towards the ambulance. Hen lags behind, walking over to Buck. “Well…” she says, offering a smile. “There’s your answer.” She rests her hand on Buck’s back and leads him out of the bar towards the ambulance.
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Something about Vaxleth reunion last night felt a bit underwhelming, and I understand why.
It has been 30 years and Keyleth hasn't moved on because Vax keeps sending her ravens. It has been 30 years and he was taken from her one too many times. It has been 30 years and this is like the choking moment in Campaign 1 all over again.
"How many times do I have to watch you die? Are you really staying now?" This is what is going through Keyleth's mind right now. Keyleth reverted to the fearful girl who is too scared to let herself hope because she knows she will get hurt again.
Keyleth taking a step back, being cautious is so understandable because she doesn't know how long they have, if one night or forever, and she is not ready to suffer again.
Meanwhile, Vax'ildan is adapting to this plane again. Even Liam himself said that it feels like Vax is waking up from a long dream and it's hard to tell what's reality and what's not. With time, Vax could be less Champion, more Vax'ildan. But they don't have that time, right now. They can't process everything.
They need to go home and rest. Vax will get to meet his nieces and nephews, spend the night with his family, and tomorrow we fight again because the war isn't over yet, and so much can happen.
So, there is hope. There is light at the end of the tunnel, especially with Vax wanting to stay, and Keyleth is very valid for not letting herself hold on to it just yet, but there is hope.
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Navamsa Observations 7
WARNING: Remember this is not a personal read, sharing a few placements will NOT promise the same outcome.
8th H ruler in 11th H - This can indicate gaining through the courts. When paired with many divorce indicators, I always see this as people who gained through divorce. If a well placed benefic like moon in libra sits in 11th, it can be a considerably big amount.
7th H ruler in Aqua - This can show there is distance between the person and their spouse. They grow detached over time. Due to Saturn being the traditional ruler of Aqua, this happens slowly. There is no one big incident that drives the couple apart, it gradually happens.
Rahu in 2nd H in D9
In certain cases, this can indicate a very late marriage. To be sure, one must check entire D1 and D9.
This shows after marriage or later in life, a person separates from their family. This can be due to conflict or simply the person must move to a different state/province or country.
One big thing is this shows you will exaggerate in speech. In a sign like taurus, you can exaggerate your wealth and possessions such as cars or homes. BUT the spouse will correct you even if you're in front of people. FOR EXAMPLE: You tell you friend "we went bought a house in [a popular city]. The spouse will say "no technically we live a a 15 minutes outside the city". The couple will bicker. The spouse will not support what you are saying just because they are married to you. They will challenge and correct you. Depending on entire chart, this can lead to conflict or simply be an annoyance on a few occasions.
If Rahu's depositor is strong, you can become wealthy later in life. However, Rahu is NOT a benefic. I have noticed there is always a catch with rahu.
FOR EXAMPLE: I have seen this as struggle throughout one's entire life and finally in their 60s they became VERY wealthy. Only to die shortly afterwards due to their poor eating habits & smoking (they had diabetes and lung cancer). They once said it was the stress of their life that made it impossible for them to stop smoking. In his case, he had an exalted Mars Cap conjunct a benefic (Venus) ruling his rahu in 2nd aspecting an exalted Saturn Libra.
So due to rahu's nature, when you get wealth, you may not even be able to enjoy it fully. Depending on the entire chart, this placement can have the reverse affect too. You can become a liar and thief. You may not become wealthy and it becomes an obsession in your mind. It leads to negative thinking later in life as you feel you deserved more from life.
This placement is a BIG indicator for you needing to financially support your marriage/family. Regardless of your gender. Later in life, likely there is a point where you become the breadwinner.
I see too many people letting their own bias affect how they interpret these observations. For accuracy, you need to look at D1 and D9 - looking at one placement in each will not tell you the full story. This is NOT a personal read.
The sign these planets are in will change the outcome. The aspects will influence the outcome.
Even a well placed Rahu in 2nd of D9 shows debilitated eye sight and bad habits. You may need glasses, you may have an eye injury. You can eat unhealthy later in life - you can become a drinker, smoker, you can eat many red meats.
Another interesting thing about this placement is within the year you marry (before or after the wedding), a sibling will have an important life development. IRL EXAMPLES:
ex.1: A few months before this woman's wedding, her sister announced she was getting a divorce.
ex.2: This woman's sister announced she was pregnant AT the wedding. In this case, it upset the woman, she felt her sister had made the day about her. She has 11th H ruler in 6th in D1 so the relationship has never been the strongest. The elder sibling acts as an enemy/hater in this person's life.
ex.3: This woman's brother began university the year she married. This doesn't seem as big as the above examples but it is a huge milestone in life.
D1/Natal:
YOUR ELDER SIBLING'S MARRIED LIFE:
This can be seen in your own chart. 11th house shows the elder siblings in vedic, 7 away from 11 shows their marriage. If 7 away (your 5th house) has malefics or ruler placed negatively, your elder sibling may divorce.
ex: 5th H - CAP, ruler Saturn afflicted in 10th h - this can indicate your elder sibling's divorces. This is because the 10th becomes the 12th H for your siblings - this is the house of loss amongst other things. When afflicted shows a divorce or major hardship in your elder sibling's marriage.
This method can be difficult if you have more than one elder sibling. I am just mentioning it as fun/interesting method. Of course their own chart will hold more power over their life.
YOUR YOUNGER SIBLING'S MARRIED LIFE:
In vedic, 3rd H is your younger sibling. 9th H becomes their 7th house. This can provide a little insight on their married life.
EX: 9th H has Rahu, this person's younger brother cheated on his wife. 9th H ruler (Venus) was conjunct a malefic (Sun) in 2nd h (which is the 12th H for your sibling.) Their brother got a divorce.
Using someone else's chart does not give full accuracy. As 3rd H is also cousins and you may have multiple younger siblings. Their own chart will hold more power.
#8th house ruler in 11th house#vedic astro observations#astrology#astrology observations#navamsa observations#libra moon#rahu in 2nd house
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To be Held | Gil-Galad
Summary: You are Gil-Galad's most trusted warrior. With the centuries of history between you two - and the multiple wars you have both survived before and during his rule - it is hard for you to ignore the obvious: You are his complement, his other half, the shield to his sword. You two work as a unit. Everyone in Lindon knows it.
So what happens when he comes close to losing half of that unit?
Set during S2 of ROP - loosely AU to episode 8 (we don't go into the courtyards of Eregion)
tag: @wild-typo-turtle @celebrimbormylove @pentaghasm
You are one of the earliest memories of his younger years as an ellon. The years where he'd been living in the Grey Havens under the watchful eye of the Shipmaster, a young Elf named Artanaro who had nothing left but himself and the clothes on his back.
You had become a soldier at a very early age, taking to the spear with a gracefulness and poise unlike any of your other comrades who served alongside you in the war. You were raised in the heat of battle. Armor was your skin. Your weapon, your hands.
He admired you deeply. Your training commander at the time had noticed that the two of you were the only ones to take to the spear, and so it came to pass that you were often paired together for spars.
For sparring, for the front, for training. The other Elves whispered about you and how formidable you were as a unit the fields of war.
“What will you call yours?”
You watched him turn the weapon over in his hands. Once, twice, three times, long fingers flexing as it spun for him to properly admire the craftsmanship of the spear that had just been granted to him.
“Aeglos,” The Elvish word rolled off his tongue with an awe that made you shiver. You knew as well as he did that he would be known for being Aeglo’s wielder, among what other accomplishments he took to throughout his years. “It has a number of meanings, Mellon. For this one, however, I think snow thorn is more than appropriate.”
It fits him.
You averted your gaze away from him, desperate to keep your composure as you peered down at the spear in your own hands. He had such a deeply penetrating gaze. That unnerved you. You had to be unflappable. Something such as affection or love could not dare to make you weak.
You would not risk weakness on the field. You would not risk having something to lose.
“I think I have its name,” You announced. “I’ll call it Telmnar.”
Ereinion tilted his head curiously. He was not familiar with that term. “And what does that translate to?”
“Fire of Heaven.”
As the years passed, you took to chaos and disorder. Ereinion Gil-Galad took to the art of ruling much, much later in life with a firm hand and a soft heart. He never lost his spirit. Neither did you.
On the field, the pair of you were a force to be reckoned with. One unit. That’s what Elrond had said the first time he’d seen the two of you fight in the sparring yards of Lindon.
Gil-Galad just hadn’t expected the paralyzing fear that came with nearly losing the other half of your unit.
He sees you fall from across the battlefield. There are so few of you left, so many Elven bodies that litter the grounds of a scorched battlefield that Gil-Galad is sure will be their ruin. Elrond is catatonic over the Dwarvish army. You are fueled by your fury, helm hiding the fire he knows lights your eyes as you spin Telmnar with all the grace of poise of a practiced soldier.
Despite the destruction, you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. That is why Ereinion is so shaken when he sees the blade pierce your side through the gaps in your armor. A roar echoes across the battlefield as you twist your body to dismember the offending orc, Telmnar faltering in your grasp as it impales the body at the same time you fall to the earth.
Everything seems to blur together after that. Elrond is the one to rush toward you once clarity reaches him once again, removing the chest piece of your armor to better ascertain the severity of your injuries.
"Ereinion," You whisper. "Tell Ereinion..."
Telmnar gleams out of the corner of your eye as a hand reaches down to remove the spear from the body before laying it down beside Aeglos. They really are beautiful blades: A perfect pair for the best unit that the Elven armies had ever seen.
“Tell him what?” Elrond asks. He wants to keep you awake for as long as possible before blood loss sends you into unconsciousness.
Tears prick the back of your eyes. You’ve spent centuries trying so hard to keep your weaknesses out of harms way, to bury that secret you have kept of growing affections for Gil-Galad so he too would not come to be a name among the list of those you’ve loved and lost.
“He was never my weakness,” You whisper. “He was always my strength.”
"We may have lost many today, sweet friend," Elrond's voice is the only thing keeping you awake as he works to staunch the flow of blood from your body. "But you will not be among them."
You think of Gil-Galad, of Celebrimbor and Arondir, of Galadriel. They will not be able to take Adar on their own. They will need all the men they can muster.
Your innate desire to protect those you love is what coaxes you to move amid Elrond's healing, but not before a firm hand presses you back down into the ground and cradles your head in its embrace. Your eyes slowly shift across the open expanse of sky above you until your gaze falls on the dark eyes of the High King of the Noldor.
“Don’t move.” He commands, firm but soft as his fingers flex around your shoulder. “We will work diligently. Rest.”
Relief washes over you as you raise your fingers to graze his cheek. All you can see is blood and dirt, none of that smooth pale skin you’ve grown so accustomed to over the years.
He’s murmuring something low in Quenya as his hand comes upon your wound, and your eyes roll back into your head as Gil-Galad’s healing begins to seal what damage has been done. Elrond stands beside in waiting for the administration of bandages and salves so it will heal well.
The fingers of his free hand card through your hair as you fall unconscious in Gil-Galad’s capable hands.
***
When you first wake, there is a song on the wind. You’re being carried on a stretcher through what appears to be a path through a valley with elves on either side of you.
Panic rushes through your body until you recognize the voice that the wind carries. Gil-Galad has known since you were young that music was one of your only means of coping as it often brought you such serenity. Especially if the music came from him, his lips, his soul.
“Be well, my friend.” It is Camnir’s voice you hear closest to you instead as his face comes into view at your feet. Why the cartographer is here, you remain unsure, but your exhaustion is softened by the sight of his young face. “The High King is nearby. You are safe. I will wake you once we arrive at our destination.”
Your windpipe feels as if it has been pressed upon and your mouth forced open to swallow handfuls of sand. Despite that discomfort, you swallow and ask, “Is he safe?”
Camnir nods. “Indeed. Be peaceful. We are nearly there.”
You fall asleep once again with Aeglos and Telmnar on your mind.
***
There is warmth the next time you wake.
You’re careful not to aggravate your wound as you slowly shift your weight and rub your hands over your eyes to adjust to the dim light of the tent. Night has fallen, as you can tell from the shadows outside, but you did not expect to find The High King fast asleep with his hand gently laying on top of yours.
You smile. Not many are privileged to see him like this. It reminds you of your younger years, when you and Ereinion were just getting to know one another during your time in the Grey Havens. The pair of you had been far more curious than Círdan had cared for. The Shipwright had never complained. He simply remained grateful that someone cared as much for his charge as you did.
Gil-Galad shifts as you slowly kick your legs off the cot and reach outward to card your fingers through his hair. “Ereinion,” You whisper. Dark eyes flutter open and widen as he realizes you are awake, and it takes all of his willpower not to ask you a million questions as you hold a hand up to silence him. “Are you okay?”
The crease between his brow deepens as you run your thumb along his jaw.
“I believe it should be me asking you that,” He replies quietly. “You gave me quite a scare. I do not think I have experienced fear such as that watching you fall since we were young.”
Your earnest expression crumples almost instantly. “Gil-Galad-“
“You told Elrond to tell me something,” Now fully awake, the High King of the Noldor shifts his seat so that he’s planted directly in front of you, hands hovering over your thighs as he settles into the natural part of your legs. “What was it?”
Your mind shifts back to the early days. The days before the wars had ruined you, had cost the lives of so many people you loved, when it was just you and Ereinion against the forces of darkness and those who tried to tear you down.
The perfect unit, they’d called you.
Ereinion holds his breath as your hand, shaking as it may be, extends towards him to cup his face. “Do you remember all those years ago when I told you that the likelihood of me taking a partner was slim because I was not willing to have a weakness that could distract me on the battlefield?” You ask. He nods, transfixed by your face as your fingers gently trace the line of his jaw. “I’ve had one for centuries now. I have just never breathed a word about it.”
Hope flickers behind those dark eyes. “Do not utter that which you do not wish to come to fruition, nin meld.”
“Why?”
You dip your head down, fingers tangling in dark hair as he tips his head up to hover mere inches above your mouth. Your heart pounds with anticipation as you both waver against the line that was drawn centuries ago: the line that will forever change the two of you once you dare to take that risk.
“Because once you do, you can’t take it back.” Gil-Galad utters so softly you almost don’t hear it.
“I could not take back my affections for you. I would not dare. You’ve had my heart since Círdan introduced us. You are my weakness… and you are my strength, my hope-“
His kiss is bruising as he closes the gap between the two of you, surging upward to stand to his feet and cup your face in his hands. He is so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck to properly kiss him, but you don’t think you could ever quite tire of the fire behind which he kisses you.
“You are my salvation from this wretched life,” Ereinion whispers, relishing in the sweet sound of your whimper as he holds you there, helpless to do nothing but allow his mouth to trail across your jaw and down your neck. He is mindful to not aggravate your injury further lest Elrond have his hide for doing so. “And so I take that weakness willingly if it means I have the privilege to love you all my days.”
You smile sweetly at him and nod as his trail ends at your forehead before you part.
“You’re tired.” You point to the cot beside you that’s open. “Bring that over here.”
“I have to attend to duties elsewhere-“
You give him a pointed look. “Cleaning Aeglos and Telmnar can wait. There’s so many of us injured, and you cannot attend to your duties without having a few hours of sleep. You cannot function.”
He hesitates before acquiescing to your demand. Galadriel is being tended to by Elrond, Arondir is coordinating patrols, and the rest of Eregion’s survivors are taken care of at least for the night. He will sleep much more peacefully - and hopefully avoid nightmares about Celebrimbor - being able to feel your breathing under his fingers.
“Very well.”
When Elrond comes looking for his King, he is not surprised to find him with you, but he is surprised to find that Gil-Galad has indeed fallen asleep in the cot beside yours. You are sitting up in your own cot drinking the mint tea provided by the healers with a smug expression on your face as you meet his eyes.
Your other hand loosely cards through Ereinions hair as he moves himself closer to your leg, forehead pressed against your knee in sleep.
“Should I ask?” Elrond queries, laughing quietly under his breath as you playfully narrow your eyes.
“Keep walking, Peredhel. Nothing to see here.”
He will allow his King that respite for tonight. He deserves the comfort of being held by someone he loves.
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as wild and untamable as the sea | l.c (teaser)
pairing: greek god!chan x reincarnated sea nymph!f!reader genre: angst, smut | (very minor) reincarnation, fantasy, greek gods!au rating: explicit, minors DNI (for full fic, nothing in this teaser) word count: 850 for the teaser (TBD on full fic, prob 10k+) warnings: none for the teaser (full fic: explicit smut, past unhealthy relationships, plays with greek mythology, etc) post date: november 16th (hopefully)
summary: Chan remembers everything. Every little thing that's happened to him since his days as one of the twelve olympians. Poseidon to be exact. Even though he tries not to think about it now that he's living in modern times running a sad little aquarium, some memories are more vivid than others. Then, you stumble into his life and he can't explain the draw. You can't seem to figure out how this man is keeping an aquarium like this running when it seems like it's not that busy. Something about him really seems to put you off, despite the fact that he seems drawn to you. None of it makes any sense...until you start to remember.
a/n: this is for the 13 Gods of Olympus collab that @beomcoups & @wooahaeproductions have been tirelessly working on. thank you so much for hosting this! it's been fun (even if it's a challenge) to get lost in an entirely different world.
if you want to be tagged when i post, leave a comment or join my taglist here
Another day, another dollar.
Wasn’t that what the humans said about another day spent working at some mindless job? Despite all the years he’s spent blending into their world, Chan still doesn’t really understand the humans. Doesn’t really understand why they put up with so many things they seemingly hate. Doesn’t really understand why they waste their short lives on something that makes them miserable. But, in fairness to the humans, Chan has also never had to worry about the trivial things that come along with working like money, possessions, or a home. When you’re one of the original gods of Olympus and life is seemingly infinite, money isn’t really an issue.
That’s who Chan was in another lifetime: Poseidon. The God of the Sea, among other things. At least, until Olympus fell. A painful thought that he usually tries to push from his mind.
In the early days after Olympus fell, Chan still went through life acknowledging who he was. He leveraged his powers for favors or for payment. He used his control of the water and everything in it to get him what he needed. But, the years went by and the Olympians became the stuff of myth. Of stories. The kind of characters that you read about in books. Only the most eccentric members of society continue to worship the Olympians as if they’re real. Which they are, Chan reminds himself. Or, they were. As the faith faded, so did the Olympians’ belief in restoring themselves to full power. One by one, they gave up the task of finding a way back until it was only Chan and Zeus left. Two of the brightest minds of Olympus. Even they had to admit their own defeat.
Which leads to the present day. Chan has taken on a new persona, for the…well, he’s lost track of what number this one is. He’s just thankful for his ability to shapeshift into someone new whenever he needs to. Takes a new name every time, too. At first, he tried to keep in touch with his siblings and the other Olympians. That, too, fades over time. It’s been at least a century since he’s spoken to any of them. Though, occasionally, he’ll catch wind of something through the chattering of local sea creatures. Something that says at least some of them are still out there.
Chan sighs. There’s really no reason for him to be wandering down memory lane in this way. He thinks, not for the first time, that maybe he needs to pick a different cover job. One that will keep his mind a little more occupied. The reality is, though, he’s tried nearly everything he could think of over the centuries. Changing professions is a frequent occurrence when he doesn’t want to let his body show too many signs of age. Not that he minds, it’s just that people start to ask too many questions about how he’s handling things someone “his age” shouldn’t be able to handle. In the end, working with sea life has always been the best. And this set up, where he’s running a smaller aquarium off of some long forgotten boardwalk in an area that doesn’t get much traffic, is also great. It isn’t even that Chan doesn’t like being around people. He finds humans entertaining in most senses. It’s just that nothing in this life is permanent for him. He’s not going to fall in love and grow old with someone. Best to just keep things at arm’s length.
Most days are more or less the same and Chan works the majority of them. On the rare days off, he’s not far away since his little house is within walking distance of both the aquarium, the boardwalk it’s on, and the water. He trusts the limited staff that he has because he pays them well. Better than any other similar business, but he values loyalty. And they don’t seem to question how he’s able to make things work. That is largely due to the anonymous donors that make monthly contributions to the aquarium. Really, it’s just Chan funneling money that he’s earned over his many years on Earth so that he can keep a business afloat. Nobody seems to have anything to say. Beyond the staff not asking questions, they are all very good at their jobs. It makes life easier for Chan that way because he doesn’t have to micromanage them. Everyone knows what they’re supposed to do and will only ask questions if they hit an actual block. No, the aquarium runs very smoothly. It just doesn’t get a lot of business.
Since every day kind of blends together, Chan almost never realizes as days or weeks or even months pass by. He’s in a sort of autopilot where he also knows what he has to do and just does it without question. It’s just rinse and repeat day in and day out.
Until it’s not. Until the first day that he notices you in his small, out of the way little aquarium. Until the day that everything starts to change.
#dino smut#dino x reader#dino angst#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#dino fanfic#dino imagines#dino scenarios#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#lee chan smut#lee chan x reader#dino x you#svt imagines#svt smut#svt angst#svt x you#svt fanfic#thediamondlifenetwork#svthub#kvanity#seventeen smut#seventeen angst
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The kettle whistled on the stove and Adam used one of his many tentacles to retrieve it to pour some tea for everyone.
Lucifer was concerned about this angel coming down killing overlords, he didn't want anything to happen to Adam. Not that he couldn't handle himself but still, Luicfer loved him and wanted him safe.
Lucifer: Well, at least the hotel will be a safe place from the crazy angel.
Adam: Yeah.... At Vox's dollar.
Rosie: Sweetie what is it with you and Vox? I know a little but.
Lucifer took his hand and Adam smiled.
Adam: When I first got to Hell it was exactly that, Hell. I went through maybe dark days where many unsavory things happened to me. Vox found me and helped me. He was relatively new to Hell too but he had already made a bit of a name for himself. We were friends, good friends.
He squeezed the mug in his hand, Adam relaxed feeling Lucifer's thumb brush over the other.
Adam: If Valentino hadn't of come into the picture we might have been more than friends who the fuck knows. But that STD filled moth changed him and not for a good. We argued and it broke our friendship, he wanted more than friendship but......... After some of the things I saw him do, like the things done to me. I couldn't put up with it anymore. So I decided I would become an even stronger overlord than him.
Adam: And I almost was, keep in mind this all happened in a span of two years. Which hey, I think it pretty fucking impressive if I say so myself. Then we had that physical fight and things were never the same.
Lucifer kissed his hand: Thank you for telling me dove.
Rosie: Awww, aren't you two sweet?
Adam: Well! That's enough time wasting to talk about him. What are we to do about this angel?
Lucifer: We need to find out who it is first. I'm actually surprised no one in heaven has contacted me about this. But on the same hand I'm not.
Adam: And I was telling Rosie here that she should stay at the hotel.
Rosie waved her hand: Oh Adam, I told you I'm fine dear, honest!
Lucifer: Well, if you ever change your mind you're more than welcome.
Rosie smiled: Thank you your majesty, you're very gracious.
Lowkey want an au where Adam has Alastors' powers.
The tentacles
The eyes
The changing size
The shadows
The sass
The deal making
Him owning Husk and Nifty
The musical numbers
The radio control
The tentacles- have I mentioned that before?
The rivalry with Lucifer
Maybe he replaces Alastor entirely. No Alastor. Only Adam. It's always been Adam.
Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.
Only Adam lol This is good! His Husk and Nifty could be Lute and Peter.
He doesn't have to smile all the time does he?
Yessss, and he plays rock instead of jazz lol And yes of course there is a rivalry lol
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Keyleth having to live her life with Vax dead/serving the Matron with only these tiny snapshots of time with Vax (a la Elizabeth Swann in POTC) is tragic. Of course it is. She has to continue on, and isn't that the hardest thing to do sometimes?
But what is it like for Vax? What is it to watch Keyleth's life from afar, while she mourns him? What is it like to know that you are the source of your beloved's worst pain? What is it like to know that every time you may be able to have time with her, to see her, touch her, save her you're ripping her heart out all over again? What does it feel like when you touch her for the first time in 30 years and she tenses?
How do you cope with that?
Vax never chose to die in the first place. Vecna made that choice for him, but Vax chose to try and make something of that death. He chose to try and find purpose and meaning in what was forced on him (like so many other things).
He wanted (wants) nothing more than to stay. Vax longs for the life they dreamt of - the life stolen from them - just as much as Keyleth does.
And now, at the end of the world, the Matron has seen fit to give them one more night...but after that? Well, not even the Gods know what happens then.
#critical role#cr spoilers#critical role spoilers#vax#Vax'ildan#Keyleth#Vaxleth#cr meta#still holding out hope for a narratively meaningful happy ending#we deserve a soft epilogue my love#vaxleth coded
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Dating You For A Bet
word count: 1767 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.
pairing: university AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader
genre: angst
warnings: some swearing
It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore the barely hidden stares and whispers surrounding you. You looked up to check if maybe you were just imagining things but the hastily averted eyes and hush of voices solidified your suspicion that you were once again the talk of the town. It happened many times before that you, the chubby foreigner with the mediocre grades but big opinions during seminars, were subject to gossip and after a year of studying in Tokyo, you were somewhat used to it. The gossip died down a few months after your arrival only to spike exponentially when the handsome middle blocker of the varsity volleyball team came up to you one day during lunch and with a disarming smirk that belonged on the pages of scandalous romance novels simply sat down across from you, asking if you enjoyed the miso soup that was hardly touched and by now stone cold on your tray. Oblivious to any kind of possible flirting you just shrugged and went back to your phone when a long finger tapped gently on your knuckles to get your attention. Matsukawa tilted his head a little and asked if you’d like to study with him later in the library and you agreed and it all just developed from there. He did have to spell it out for you that he was interested since you just assumed that he was being nice like most guys you talked to but you quickly came into the dessert-like luxury of being acknowledged as his girlfriend, fingers entwined, him pulling your legs over his lap when you lounged on a bench on the university grounds, talking about anything and nothing for six glorious, sunny months. You were in fact waiting for him right now, keeping your backpack on the seat next to you just in case someone dared to plop down. Giggles and pointing now joined the stares and whispers and frowning a little you pulled out your phone to text your boyfriend how long he’d be.
“Sorry! Sorry. Hey, I said sorry, now shoo~“ Your tall glass of water of a man shuffled through the row of seats a minute later and a little out of breath from running over from another building got comfortable and produced his laptop from his messenger bag. “Thank you, beautiful.”, he panted when you brought the straw of your iced coffee to his lips.
“What’s up?”, he asked when you didn’t lean in as usual for a kiss. Following your gaze he looked around the lecture hall. Some people quickly turned the other way again while others just blatantly continued their gawking.
“What’s going on?”
“No idea but I feel like it has something to do with me.”, you said quietly. Slouching further down in your chair you added, “Maybe some stupid rumor again in the class forum. Like last time when they thought I only have one pair of pants because most of my jeans just have the same cut.”
“Well, better check it out so I can vehemently defend my girl against any and all evil doings that are being evil done.”, he said chivalrously and grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket. But after a bit of typing you saw all color drain from his face. His usually relaxed half hooded eyes widened in shock and he quickly locked the screen.
“Babe.”, you gave a nervous chuckle, “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
You raised a brow. “You do realize that I also have access to that site and can check myself.”
Slowly, very very slowly he handed you his phone and with a few swipes it unlocked.
Sure enough the community forum of your year was open and a set of screenshots from a group chat was pinned to the very top.
You recognized one of the profile pictures. It was Issei’s old one before he changed it to a photo of you and him kissing at a lake.
Your boyfriend meanwhile sat silently next to you, staring at his hands.
Three minutes passed in which the air around became thick with tension.
You swallowed the impossibly large lump that had formed in your throat while you read, then stared ahead at the many other students now obviously waiting for you to react.
But you were not about to give them the satisfaction. You tossed the phone back into your … into Matsukawa’s lap and having no patience to put your things away, just grabbed tablet, notepad, pen and phone awkwardly in one hand, your backpack in the other and got up.
“Please let me out.”, you said calmly.
“Y/n, I-“
“I said, let me out.”
Matsukawa stood up to let you pass, so did the other people in your row. You felt your eyes burn but you willed yourself not to cry or breathe until you left this room.
Stoically, you walked up the few steps towards the double doors when you heard shuffling behind you and a hand grabbed your wrist. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was him.
“Princess, please-“
You yanked yourself free and reached for the handle.
“Mr Matsukawa, Miss L/N.”, the voice of the professor who had finally arrived stopped you in your tracks, “May I remind you that in order to pass my class you need an 80% attendance rate? Especially you, Mr Matsukawa, if you leave now I’m going to have to fail you.”
Grim satisfaction filled your head when you pushed open the door to leave him behind.
He should stay like a good boy. He should have the decency to give you a head start to go to his dorm so you could collect every single thing you ever left there and you began to wonder if you’d need one or two trash bags for all the crap he kept in your room.
But much to your surprise the door behind you didn’t close as quickly as you thought. Familiar footsteps caught up to you.
“Y/n, it’s not what you think.”
Your heart began to sting and twist; the tears, no longer under your control, streamed down your plump cheeks when you spun around.
“Alright.”, you began, letting out a quivering breath to steady your voice, “Tell me. Explain to me why you obviously making a bet with your jerky friends about getting me into bed is not what I think. Oh, and make sure you use small words for the foreigner. Go on. Make me laugh.”
“Gorgeous-“
“Don’t call me that.”
He flinched. He looked small, kneading his hands like that, head ducked between his shoulders and staring at your shoes.
“Y/n…”, he said but then fell silent.
“That’s what I thought. Don’t talk to me. Don’t call me. Don’t come near me ever again.”
You turned on your heel and not caring about the highly entertained grin some passersby threw your way you hurried out of the building.
Issei looked after you for a long while, then he returned to the lecture hall.
You lay on your bed, arm over your eyes and heating pillow on your tummy. Ever since this morning you hadn’t been able to eat anything and were now paying the price for trying to keep down an old milk bread bun you had found squashed at the bottom of your backpack. Without all of Matsukawa’s stuff cluttering your side of the room it felt a lot emptier. All the plushies from the arcade he’d won for you, his spare Pyjamas (kept hidden under your bed) for when your roommate was out of town, a bouquet of flowers, impulsively picked from someone’s front yard that you had pressed and framed, a tattered old jersey from his high school team he left for you as a makeshift pillowcase so you could breathe him in if he couldn’t be with you - all of that was stuffed into a bulging black trash bag by the door. It genuinely surprised you that your phone had stayed silent all day. In the very back of your mind, a small unwelcome part of you had hoped that he’d try to talk to you despite your warnings. That he would try to explain himself and get you back but then again it had all just been a game to him, right?
The rustling of paper had you sit up. A folded note slipped under your door. You got up to investigate. The handwriting, almost illegible chicken scratches, and almost illegible, was unmistakable. Fighting the urge to read it, you simply crumpled it up and threw it away, proud of yourself. But when you turned to go back to bed, another note appeared.
It looked identical to the first.
“What the…”, you muttered, and as you balled up this new message you called through the door, “Go away!”
But a third note, the same as the first two, swished towards your feet.
You had enough and pulled the door open.
Crouching before you, a stack of paper in his arms, was Matsukawa, arm outstretched with yet another note, ready to deploy apparently.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I-“
“Didn’t I tell you that I don’t want to see you again?”
“Well…”
“Well what?”
“Technically you didn’t see me. U-until… now.” You glared at him and he quietly added, “Loophole.” in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.
“Are you seriously trying to be cute right now?”
“No! Not at all, I- uhm, did you read the message?”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Okay, give me five minutes to explain. Please!”
“What’s there to explain? Your dumb friend offered you a dumb bet and your dumb ass accepted it. With zero hesitation, might I add.”
“Yes, but-“
“Did you get the money?”
“What?”
“You heard me, did you get the money?”
“I… yes.”
“Did you feel guilty for getting the money?”
“Babe- I mean, y/n”, he quickly swerved after seeing you seething with rage at the nickname, “the money didn’t matter! I was hopelessly in love with you the moment you pushed Makki into the pool.”
He shuffled half a step closer to you and took a whole one back again when you frowned.
“That party was in July. We started dating in the spring. So for the first half of our relationship you were just pretending?”
“N-no! That’s not what I - no!”
“Take your shit and get out of my sight!”
“Listen to me, I won’t let you go! You’re the best thing that ever happened to me! I know I don’t deserve you but please don’t leave me! I love you, y/n!”
“Goodbye!”
And after chucking the trash bag into his face you slammed the door shut.
art: I wasn’t able to find out who the OG artist was. If you know, please lemme know and I’ll add
#matsukawa issei x chubby reader#issei x chubby reader#mattsun x chubby reader#matsukawa x chubby reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x curvy reader#matsukawa issei x reader#haikyuu issei#hq matsukawa#issei matsukawa#matsukawa x reader#mattsun x reader#mattsun#haikyuu matsukawa#matsukawa issei#matsukawa angst#haikyuu angst#hq angst#mattsun angst
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