#this is.. long and tumblr formatting is HELL

[knightforflowers]

going to post the world’s longest ethersea fanart tomorrow sorry in advance

[gingermintpepper]

Meet-Cute

Days that pass like sand,  blowing idly by  in the summer wind

he dreams of snakes,  long-fanged, like vexed bees, stinging at his scalp “Purify yourself,”  but he has not sinned

…he does not protest

The river is green-blue. Alive. He feels its heart beating beneath the slick rock of its banks.  Old river. Gorgeous thing. Bent into the shape of a shepherd’s crook, flowing but tame A nursery for fresh-born nymphs too young to stand the ocean’s tide-pulls  or maybe a reprieve from rough Summer’s overbearing heat 

He slips his robe from his shoulders. Unbinds the curls of his hair.  There is almost regret in his heart. Almost tragedy. Almost pain.  Each ritual bath is a spectre of the first, blood sinking deep into his flesh,  poison that will never stop burning. He empties his lungs of air and steps

Light-footed, like air down the forest path she goes a-walking

she’s dreamt of violets since summer’s first dawn a maiden possess’d

“Purify yourself,” that’s what father said

...This is how they meet

(Gold  like sun slicing through the clouds  like full-grown barley begging to be picked  She’s gold and slim and gorgeous  bathing in the river

The nymph is new  like speckled flowers blooming on a rose bush  she calls to be admired  and Evadne cannot resist her allure)

-Extracts from 'The Greenhouse Floor'.

[m1d-45]

Let it be known that I love writing fluff, and I listen to character audios sometimes. SO! I came up with a cute idea for sagau imposter au. I heard somewhere that Xiao's adeptus form is a bird, so I wonder, what kind of bird? And that got me thinking. Xiao being a little song bird, or perhaps even a cardinal.

Now imagine: while looking for the imposter, Xiao stumbles upon them sitting beneath a tree, just feeding some birds. Said birds are absolutely loving the attention since the creator of Teyvat is giving them food and love!

Xiao watches, rather curious. The creator he knows hates birds, because they always dive and cause problems for them. But now... these little birds have completely abandoned any fear they may hold for human beings, happily landing on the hands and shoulders of this supposed imposter.

So he decides to test something.

Xiao turns into a small bird and approaches cautiously. In his smaller form, he's vulnerable to attack. But the person before him doesn't try to hurt him. Rather, they smile and call him "little friend" as they offer food to him. In his distrust, he bites them with his sharp beak.

His heart shatters when he sees divine blood spilling from the wound.

He's about to fly away, get as far away from here as he can. He found the true creator, and instead of worshipping them, he bit them! He caused them to bleed, he shouldn't even be near them-!

His mind stills when they pet his feathered head.

They murmur kind words to him, apologizing to him. They believed that they had startled him, that he bit to protect himself. They forgave him, they felt no hatred towards him, no anger or disappointment. Instead, they offered some chopped almonds, hoping he'd prefer that over bird seed.

He sang for them as he perched on their shoulder.

After that, he did his best to secretly protect the creator he'd harmed. He would adopt his smaller form and sing for them when they felt sad, and he'd use his human form to guard them from a distance. Yes, it made his chest ache whenever they looked at him with fear when they saw his more human form, but the yaksha only shook it off. It only made sense that you'd be scared. He was a frightening person, one that had tried to harm you before. He refused to try and change your feelings towards him. He didn't have the right.

He would be content to sing for you as a harmless bird.

-sibling anon (sorry if this is out of character for him I just like the idea)

oh….. he’s so soft…..

xiao hovering near the edge of the crowd, at first, drawing your attention since he doesn’t seem to be eating any of the seed you’d passed out.

when he finally hops within arms reach, you reach to nudge some of the food next to him closer, only to quickly whip your hand back. the birds around (on) you all flutter at the sudden movement, but you inspect your finger, the blue blood of teyvat welling up. your instinct is to stick it in your mouth, but that doesn’t seem safe considering a bird bit it, so you dab at it with a napkin.

the bird cries and flaps his wings, distraught, and your heart hurts. poor guy, you probably scared him, moving so quickly.

you pull out some chopped almonds from your pocket. the plan was to have them as a snack, but now… you put a few in your palm and close your hand around it, reaching forward to gently run two fingers over the birds back.

the other birds in the area seemed receptive to that, and this one does too, calming down considerably.

you take your hand back, opening your palm to drop the almonds on the floor, nudging them close before backing off.

“there you go,” you murmur, as the bird dips down to inspect the food. “i won’t hurt you.”

you allow yourself a silent cheer when it eats one of the almond pieces.

you see the small bird fluttering around you often, always on the edge of your vision. it’s easy to identify, the purple patch of feathers on its forehead easily standing out, and you’re always certain to push some food over to it. almonds, not birdseed.

the bird is a dark blue-teal, the underside of its wings a softer blue. it’s like no other bird you’ve seen in liyue, something that quickly catches your attention.

you brush some dirt off you as you stand, noting the way the bird immediately looks up from its food, unlike the others, to flap up into the tree you were sitting under.

you crack a smile, carefully reaching a finger for it. you’re slower this time, cautious of its skittish nature, but it lets you approach. when you carefully pet over its head, the birds eyes close.

your smile grows, and you try not to laugh at how confused the bird seems when you pull your hand away.

“i have to go,” you explain. “the millelith… they’re getting too close again. i won’t be able to see you again, little friend.”

the bird chirps, nearly indignant, and you do laugh this time. putting a small piece of almond on the branch in front of it, you wave goodbye to the other birds, seeing the blue one hadn’t touched the almond.

you frown. hopefully it’ll be alright….

xiao watches you until you’re out of sight, and even then, he stays on the branch.

you…. he’d forgotten you were being hunted by the millelith. he’d forgotten the order to look out for you. he’d forgotten the qixing called you a criminal.

who could blame him? it was easy to forget everything at your side, when you carefully ran your fingers over his feathers, scratching at his jaw with the edge of your nail. yes, he was vulnerable as a bird, but it was easy to be vulnerable with you. it was easy to be open, to sing as best he could in this form, to allow himself close enough to see the way your eyes lit up whenever another bird landed on your outstretched finger.

xiao dropped to the ground, morphing back into his human form. predictably, the birds cawed and flew away quickly. he watched them go, his mind contrasting it with how readily they flocked to you.

you…

he turned to the branch he was on, to the small almond piece left behind. the small symbol of your care, of how you recognized that he didn’t touch the birdseed and instead offered him your own food to eat. normally he wouldn’t lower himself to eating off the ground at all, let along bird food, but almonds weren’t awful and you seemed so happy when he ate..

xiao looked back to where you’d gone, to the sandbearer trees swaying in a soft wind.

he allowed his form to fall away and spread his wings, taking flight on the same breeze that urged you along.

perhaps he’d forget his orders for a little while longer, if it meant he could spend that time with you.

perhaps he’d forget his orders for a little longer, if it meant he’d get to spend that time with you.

[briefle]

so how did we feel about this quote huh.

i love the conversation that leads to it because it highlights exactly all the points of the many many meta posts written about etho's character growth. and bdubs reluctance to seeing it as it is, instead of a backstab.*

like. look at this.

this is a man that just finished asserting his role as "the glue of the server", because he is part of an alliance of two major and at this point extremely powerful factions.

and this is not something new they're pulling here. bdubs and etho have been going literally back and forth all season with a "come to my side", "nah, mine's better move here". which is also coincidentally what breaks the parallels etho-bdubs/cleo-scott.

but no, of course there's a line in the alliance that bdubs doesn't want drawn. because then he pulls these two lines here.

and it's here that etho suggests a fracture needing to happen. because the survival instinct is still there of course, there's a social game to be played here. but it's not focused at the individual anymore, rather at his allies as a whole.

why won't etho join the winning team, do they know something we don't? is there a bigger strategy at play? where is the threat?

why won't etho join the winning team, and by extension me? does he not care? did he give up already, without a fight?

feeling slightly threatened indeed. betrayed even.

[outeremissary]

[Image ID Panel 1 Octavia, with a look of realization" "Ohh! I see!" Panel 2: Octavia points directly at Vio (who stands uncomfortably with a confused Tristian at his side). Balthazar is in the background watching the exchange with curiosity. Octavia: "You're into younger men!" Vio: Please don't say it like that. Panel 3 Vio buries his head in his hands, wings covering his face. Balthazar has drifted in to lean over Vio's shoulder with an amused smirk. Octavia: "Am I wrong?" Tristian (being spoken over): Actually, I'm - Vio: Please. /End ID]

At this point I don't even remember when I started this because it was so long ago but finally. My tribute to a truly beloved post @mountainashfae this does live in my head rent free

[Image ID: Octavia: "Oh, I see! You're into younger men!" Vio: "Please don't say it like that." Octavia: "Am I incorrect?" Vio: "Please." /End ID]

[fairysylveon]

THEY'RE DONE ✨

my borderlands OCs: an eridian fanatic / eridian weapon replica manufacturer, a former FPS e-sports champion turned vault hunter, and a disillusioned guardian who bears resentment towards eridians for his lack of purpose following their extinction

(& their dog)

+ bonus: jensen's body at various key stages. he's been muscular from young adulthood due to being a dahl marine (lost legion combat medic).

[+ I just didn't want to edit the base too much bc this ref already took me way too long lmfao]

some bonus info under the cut!

JENSEN: ((33, he/him)) vault hunter, unofficial researcher, & traveling salesman who specializes in making extremely accurate replicas of eridian guns to make them more widely available to the public. carries his wares in a modified eridian fabricator. a former lost legion combat medic, his obsession with all things eridian began when he met the watcher and was invited into the vault of the sentinel alongside zarpedon and the rest of her soldiers. aka my new favorite gary stu. an accomplished researcher, especially due to his guardian companion's insider knowledge, he could probably teach tannis a few new facts and theories, but at the very least he could keep up in a discussion with her

MIKEY: ((26, he/him)) the biggest name in the competitive scene for his game of choice, he grew bored of being the best, and longed for a real challenge. (he would probably be a borderline zer0 kinnie if zer0 wasn't a real person in universe lmfao) so he traded his mouse and keyboard for a sniper rifle and set off to do the improbable: open vaults. (and try 360 no scopes in real life. so far he's only managed to fall on his ass) says things like "newb" and "ggez" when he kills someone.

THE DESERTER: ((predates the landing at nekrotafeyo, he/him, less frequently they/them)) formerly "the archivist", his initial purpose was keeping written records of key historical moments in eridian history. most of their work was destroyed preceding the wipe of eridians from human memory. when the extinction came, he was supposed to stand vigil alongside the watcher and record one final record, though it was to be hidden within a vault. he couldn't watch them all sacrifice themselves, however, and abandoned his post, making his new name the last thing he was ever given by his creators. now, lacking a purpose and growing irrational resentment for being abandoned by their creators, they travel the galaxy with an eridian fanatic, and drip feed him information (can't be TOO forthcoming, he's still an irritatingly cryptic guardian 80% of the time)

RIPLEY: ((adult skag approx 3-4 yrs, female)) simply a baby. very tame and docile towards allies but violently protective. presumably domesticated and selectively bred for her small stature and lack of pointy spines. was abandoned by her previous owners for reasons unknown, and jensen discovered her starving on the outskirts of a town on pandora. likes belly rubs. knows the word treat so you have to spell it out around her unless you want her to lose her mind.

[beatcroc]

Is your pfp an oc of urs? Any story?

yah that's N.K.

primer: a former god of fear who has since resigned, and now runs what is essentially an intergalactic tourist trap on his cursed planet, simply known as ''nk's domain''

i don't really do "stories" per se i just have my guys in their 'verse and they have their lore and sometimes that's actionable in a plot sort of way, but most of the time they are just doing their things. nk is one of my oldest oc's and as such probably the most, like, centralizing? nk's domain is sort of a meetup hub for most other characters that don't have their own defined Thing going on, as well as what several characters' Things are directly related to, but nk himself isn't all that much of an active player any more and most of the current story type stuff i'm working with has kinda moved beyond him.

aside from that it's just his history tying him to other stuff; there's a lotta old-guard guys who fuckin hate him back from when he was still doing the whole 'reign of terror' fear deity thing [nk used to stand for 'nightmare king' but he just goes by nk now], there's a bunch a new-guard guys he's pissed off for being the main force behind the universal outlawing of capitalism[honestly not that important and some worlds still do it anyway bc gods are bad at caring enough to actually enforce their rules unless it's like a Really egregious violation], and there's also the history of said "cursed planet" itself [he didnt do that he doesnt know why its like that he just saw it wand went ooooh free real estate. but theres a reason its like that and he's starting to pay the price for having taken it over [accidentally unleashed an imprisoned god-parasite plague][uh oh][its that yellow thing in the last image][this is actually what my "main" "story"/alleged webcomic is about] [go here go in the dark]]

[applepies-and-starlight]

...so I completely forgot that (2) (more) people were interested in Siltcurrent. (Akuma!Ishmael)

Anyway I'm gonna be posting the text under cut because. It's A Lot. And there's a 10 image limit so I can't just screenshot my ramblings

Some Context for LCB moots/readers who have not seen MLB: Akumas are butterflies made by the show's villain (Hawkmoth) who target people experiencing negative emotions, usually said emotions influence how their villain self acts and what their powers are

Extra context for anyone confused: basically a while back I made an AU where Ishmael is the Ladybug (Scarlet Ardor) and Don is the Black Cat (Chatvalier). The aim of the game is bringing glory to yuriville here Also note that they're both in university in a modern AU where we aren't in the shitfest called the City for obvious reasons

Mid edit apple: now should probably be a good time to mention the entire context of the scenario here is that Ishy tries to confess to Don, gets rejected (as Ishmael) and accepted (as Ardor) at the same time. So in attempt to logic away her hurt she tries to figure out why Don likes Ardor better (Ishmael knows Don is Chatvalier (accidental); Don does not know Ishy is Ardor) but in doing so she attracts an Akuma and turns into Siltcurrent thanks faust

Mid edit apple 2: i'd like to clarify that 90% of these writings were written at 3am while i was delirious on sleep deprivation with all of my impulse controls dead on the floor

(Writings will be indented; ramblings will be in bullet points)

So! Siltcurrent! Ishmael Akuma!!

Akumatized late at night (roughly 11pm maybe) but it isn't noticable for the first few days

Illusion subset of powers; Siltcurrent conjures up a form of Ardor to try to keep up some form of normalcy

Omori vibes; as in, everything seems normal but there is something Wrong

Physiology:

Half-blind; Siltcurrent can only identify colors and vague shapes

Exception is Chatvalier/Don, she knows Exactly what to look for and it's Very Hard to trick her

Because Dream Devouring Siltcurrent reference, flouresents!

Bandages. Everywhere. Especially in the heart area

The bandage covering her chest is trying to hide a wound that looks like a lance ran through it

Constantly crying, like deadass her tears are flooding the place

Basically she looks like that fucked up Blind Obsession mer KoishiJSM drew

Oh, yeah, have I mentioned this fucker can break into your dreams?

It gently held her hands, adoration and malice waging war in its one visible eye, both combining into a new emotion that could only be possibly described as obsession.

"I love you," it said, gently kissing above her eye "I love hate love hate love hate..."

Its near-fanatical murmurs eventually petered out into a low whine, resting its head in the crook of her neck.

"You ruin me. Ruin me so much... I hate it I hate it, love you hate you love it love it please keep going please please please..."

(^^ this is a dream sequence; coincides with the last point i made)

(Siltcurrent keeps visiting don's dreams because her horrible compulsion keeps making her do it, otherwise she'd go even more insane for not acting on said compulsions)

Akuma has killed her impulse control so her intrusive thoughts are running rampant

She has at least enough self control to not go... Too Far, at least

(This lack of impulse control from "Ishmael" and "Ardor" is one of the things that tip off Don that something's wrong because honestly she's pretty smart despite what others say)

Very Avoidant of Don (as "Ishmael")

Like. Yk how ayano's like in yansim? Yeah basically

Mild yandere(?) mode now that i think of it

Like. She sees that Don's given someone else more attention than usual too and immediately tracks them down before pestering them about her (mainly like. Asking why she's been around them more, if they learned anything about her during their interactions, etc etc; comes off as overbearing and creepy)

It causes people to steer clear of don because nobody wants to deal with "ishmael"

This one needs screenshots i can't do it justice otherwise

Queequeg's..... Somewhere.

I don't know what exactly happens I just know the end result is that Ahab did A Thing and now our sailor has Trauma. Yk, usual limbus shit

Whatever the fuck happened broke Queequeg and her apart

Idk what it is exactly (could be death or other circumstance, probably the latter because.. cool leg) but whatever it is caused her to not quite. Open Up™ as a defense response

"I've been burned once, I don't want to be burned again"

"Don't go... don't go..."

Torrents of water began to fall from the sky, as if a god had punctured a hole in the clouds. Flooding the place and dragging her under.

"Please don't go..."

The thing pressed its body against her, eye searching for any reaction she had

"Empty... so empty... why do I keep breaking?"

"Why am I always hurt?"

"Is there something wrong with me?"

Don woke up again, managing to stifle a shout before she ended up waking the entire household.

(She swore she heard a choked sob off in the distance)

(^^ This one's a little rougher, but also another dream sequence)

(Side note: this one and the previous one were in italics because i used italics to distinguish my writing from my rambling in those entries and i'm too lazy to deitalicize them)

Ardor tentatively stepped towards Chatvalier, smile too stiff to be sincere; too wide to be human, her blue eyes desperately searching for something as she lifted a hand, only to awkwardly let it flop beside her.

(Her eyes were supposed to be green; a near-golden shade of olive that reminded Chatvalier of the first leaves heralding fall.)

"Hey, Chatvalier." Ardor spoke, her voice barely above a whisper yet still carrying through the space between them. "I..."

"Release Lady Ardor at once."

"Ardor's" smile faltered, her hands trembling with some deep-seated emotion.

"Chat, please." Its voice cracked as it took more steps towards the cat, "It's me, It's really-"

"Silence, wretch." Chatvalier spat, lowering her stance and pointing her staff at it. "Thou shall not decieve me; release her at once."

Its smile vanished completely, a tear sliding down its cheek.

Then, with a booming roar, a mighty wave crashed down on the fake.

(^^ beginning of what I like to call "Act 2", basically Don figures out Ishy's gotten Akumatized and something's Wrong with Ardor but instead draws the conclusion that Ishy kidnapped Ardor she mentioned she loved Ardor)

(Don't ask how I know my middle english I don't remember either (and if its janked anywhere please tell me))

Fun fact i originally used cur instead

But then i remembered the word wretch existed and went "yeah that's more in line with an absolutely pissed off Don"

"What do you want from me?!" The Akuma wailed, its head whipping around as it tried to find the flash of gold it so dearly adored, "Why are you doing this to me?!"

It screamed as it felt something stab into its tail, twisting around and throwing Chatvalier off of it, trying to shake off the pain from its mutilates tail

"Have I not told you, cur?" She shouted back, flourescent blood staining her boots as righteous fury burned in her eyes.

"Thou hath harmed mine lady, and it is mine duty to deliver retribution onto thee!"

(^^ I can't fucking figure out how I want the last line to go)

(The tail stabbing is a minor nowhere is north reference lmao; one of my drafts for siltcurrent's appearance is that she has twisted legs for a tail ala Mili's bathtub mermaid art)

Chatvalier watched in both horror and morbid fascination as the akuma writhed on the ground, screaming in frustrated agony as it clawed against its bandages, the fight all but forgotten.

"I DON'T HAVE ARDOR! I CAN'T GIVE HER BACK TO YOU!" It screamed at Chatvalier, tears overflowing as its voice went hoarse, "HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO?! WHAT DO I DO?! TELL ME!"

Before she could even formulate a response, or even a short quip, it dug its claws into itself, a guttural roar ripping out of its throat before a sickening thump landed on the rooftop.

A still beating heart rested at Chatvalier's feet.

(^^ something possessed me to write this and it just. Ended up becoming an important thing in my outline)

(Discord between me and @/scriptum-pandemonium (tell me if i you want these off tbe post pls))

Speaking of here's more stuff (spoilered because body horror (vague) which i added because. C'mon, this is a limbus au, i should be able to ramp up the violence to blood and (some) gore levels)

Hell yeah up the gore and horror

HOLY FUCKING SHIT THE HEART

:>

■■■

Delulu this akuma just has multiple hearts, octopus time

Honestly my original idea is that like, through magic bullshit she's still perfectly ok (still in pain because. Literally ripping your heart out. But. Y'know.)

If I may build on the banger lines you put down, maybe when it's over donqui pulls Ishmael in for a long hug just so she can hear the beating of Ishmael's heart in her own chest

:0

(Shoutout to Blue and the gang at Halcandra btw this was largely inspired by Magiajam)

Shaky, labored pants filled the silence between them. The villain's hair - Ishmael's hair, shadowed its face.

Only its eye was visible; the eye looking at her with so much manic hate, sadness, obsession...

Love.

The heart continued to faintly beat.

"Take it." She gasped, a bloodied claw gingerly covering the gaping, bleeding hole in her chest, "just take it and leave."

Chatvalier couldn't. How could she, anyhow? Anyone who saw such a grosteque sight would be paralyzed in shock, too.

A small sniffle snapped her out of her spiral, looking up to find the akuma desperately trying to wipe its tears away.

"Please..." it hiccuped, desperately trying to steady its breathing.

Then, a whisper.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry-"

It started wailing again, babbling a thousand apologies at once as it began to crawl back to the waves.

"I'msorryIcan'tbeherI'msorryIdon'tknowwhyyouloveherI'msorryIcan'terasetheuglymeandbebeautifulforyouI'msorryyouhavetoseemeuglyI'msorryI'mnotperfectforyou-"

Somewhere through the storm of sorrow, Chatvalier found that her feet had tried to bring her to the villain; to Ishmael.

But when she raised a hand to try and stop her, she was already gone.

All that was left was a patch of flourescent, bloodied water, and a single glass shard.

(^^ arguably one of my favorites; I am in so much pain!)

[...] sorry for being not ardor, for being ugly, for not being perfect [...]

It's been a few days since her confession. Ishmael has gotten over the rejection. Definitely. Yeah. It wasn't like... it wasn't like it was the end of the world or anything. She and Don were still friends. (Right?) (Right...) (....hopefully.) No, the self reflection notes weren't about Don. She was just... curious about herself. Yeah, that's it. Nothing to do with how she told her that she reserved her heart for Ardor. (She didn't even question it; she knew Don was Chatvalier, her annoying, endearing, ever loyal partner, who'd gladly throw herself into harm's way if it meant she'd be safe.) Nope. This was only because she saw a curious ad on the internet. A few days ago. (What did she do differently as Ardor?) She checked her notes again; a list of traits she'd describe herself as, another one for the her with the mask. (She impulsively checked her phone for the time.) (A small part of her scolded her for getting distracted so quickly.) What made her and Ardor different? What did she lack outside of the mask. She was just curious; absolutely nothing to do with the proverbial daggers in her heart. Nothing to do with impressing the girl who stole her heart. It's fine. She's fine. She isn't hung over it. It doesn't hurt. Does not hurt at all. Not in the slightest. In fact, she's over the rejection. She's perfectly fine! Just great. Peachy, even. Everything will go back to what it was tomorrow. She shouldn't be fretting over this, the weekends should be enjoyed right? So yes, she's fine. Nothing to worry about. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't... ... "Good evening, Siltcurrent."

(^^ this one's big, I just kinda gave up on editing this to fit tumblr format here)

(Anyway this is me trying to portray OCD and may or may not be me somewhat venting/projecting)

[...] Ishmael desperately trying to logic it together because she's fine it's not even a total rejection, Don Quixote just loved her hero self and not her ordinary self

[...] donqui is a bit self conscious because here she is, rejecting one of her best friends because of a what must seem like a celebrity crush that could never happen

[....] personally I like to think after the Realization™ (figuring out chalier was donqui) Ish started seeing her in a different light [...]

■■■

[...] theres something sad in Ishmael being the only one that realizes the truth, because Ishmael's been the one to see the entirety of Donqui as both a civ and chatvalier, yet Donqui can't because she thinks of ish as two separate people

Part of her is confused as to why Donqui sees it as that (she and Ardor are technically the same person right? They can't be *that* different)

The rest is just. Hurt. And is trying to grasp on straws to logic it away

■■■

Donqui loves ARDOR, which means she could've loved you but she didn't. Because you didn't win her over. Because YOU did something as Ardor so that Ishmael could never compete

Because it is "what does he have that I don't, what can he promise you that I won't" but to yourself

"Ishmael" is borderline manic 90% of the time (like, has the vibes that 1 wrong move will suddenly make her start laughing like a madman before she decks you)

She sometimes gets mental breakdowms over not being able to complete her goal (obtain the miraculous; [Acherontia] assures her that that isn't important right now

Doesn't really help much it just stops her immediate crying and makes her internalize the guilt more

This + her core motivation + everyone now looking at her weirdly compounds into siltcurrent just. Fucking flooding the entire place with her tears (this is when act 2 starts)

Ishmael hovered awkwardly at the edge of the door, practically hiding behind it with the way she positioned herself. "...uh, hey-" She barely started talking before Don was crashed into her, wrapping her arms around Ishmael's waist as she buried her head into her chest. (She could hear the gentle heartbeat under Ishmael's clothes; soft, but steady.) (Strong.) She felt Ishmael flinch at the sudden gesture, but she couldn't find herself to care. "I- woah, now." Ishmael stammered, awkwardly patting Don's head in a subtle attempt to pry her off, "Was... was I really that bad? I know Akumas don't last longer than a day, but..." She trailed off, her ears finally picking up on shallow, stifled gasps as she felt something wet on her shirt. She instinctively wrapped an arm around her, rubbing gentle circles on her back as Don tried to hold back her tears. "Hey, it's okay... I'm okay now." She mumbled, still somewhat awkward from the chain of events, "whatever happened to me is over now, yeah? I'm better now." (She didn't know that Don knew who she was, unaware that a blinded mermaid had begged her to know why it wasn't loved without a mask.) (She didn't know that Chatvalier stood on the roof of a building, holding a bloody, heartless body. Desperately trying to ignore the gaping wound in favor of pretending her Lady was simply asleep.) (If she convinced herself that the blood wasn't real, then perhaps...)

(^^ epilouge scene, basically)

(There are Consequences to gouging out your heart)

Me, at 3am, high on sleep deprivation: i know this is a kid's show, but you know? We've never seen an akumatized villain that was terribly injured detransform before the Cure kicked in

Lady Sonata ex machina I can't have yuri if one of them is dead

The peacock can literally make life from a will and a way ans G is more than competent enough to make ladybug and cat senti-copies to emergency stand in incase one gets incapacitated (also i want a pun on Ardor (Ardoll... heh))

[robotic-rin]

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Relationship: Bill Cipher/Ford Pines

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14,000

Summary: Ford hated to say he was struggling to keep up the pace on the portal, but he was. Between working himself to exhaustion and reckoning with unresolved post-karaoke night feelings, how could anyone expect him to focus on writing equations? Noticing his distraction, his enigmatic muse offers to help him out, but Bill only does favors for humans if he knows he’s going to get something out of it as well.

Or: Ford wants to be studied like a scientific experiment, Bill wants to be worshipped like a god.

Main Tags: Triangle Bill Cipher, Pre-Portal Incident (Gravity Falls), Blow Jobs, Dream Sex, Praise Kink, Consensual Possession, Masturbation, Anal Fingering, Mirror Sex, Overstimulation, Forced Orgasm, Multiple Orgasms, Degradation, Possessive Behavior, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Psychological Smut, Manipulative Bill Cipher

[jorvikzelda]

had a dream I called the Danish emergency services (I was in Denmark) and they hung up on me :(

[the-deathspeaker]

ok despite the everything trying to make this the hardest task in the entire fucking world, the deathspeaker is now readable on tumblr 👍 I'll make a pinned post tomorrow maybe and then finally this blog will be promotable

[bottomvalerius]

finally completed a stand alone fic of just sam and lucio lmfao it's real hornball hours

[alphynix]

Avisaurus darwini here lived at the very end of the Cretaceous, about 66 million years ago, in what is now the Hell Creek fossil beds in Montana, USA.

It was a member of a diverse group of Mesozoic birds known as enantiornitheans, which retained claws on their wings and often still had toothed snouts instead of beaks – and being part of the avisaurid family it was also one of the larger known examples of these birds, similar in size to a modern hawk at around 60cm long (~2').

Although this species is only known from isolated foot bones, the remains have distinct enough anatomical features to show that Avisaurus had powerful gripping talons similar to those of modern hawks and owls, suggesting it had a similar lifestyle hunting small vertebrate prey in the ancient swampy Hell Creek ecosystem.

———

NixIllustration.com | Tumblr | Patreon

References:

Clark, Alexander D., et al. "New enantiornithine diversity in the Hell Creek Formation and the functional morphology of the avisaurid tarsometatarsus." PloS one 19.10 (2024): e0310686. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0310686

“Predatory birds from the same fossil formation as SUE the T. rex.” Field Museum, https://www.fieldmuseum.org/about/press/predatory-birds-from-the-same-fossil-formation-as-sue-the-t-rex 

Wikipedia contributors. “Avisauridae” Wikipedia, 21 Oct. 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avisauridae

Wikipedia contributors. “Avisaurus” Wikipedia, 09 Nov. 2024, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avisaurus

[areyouwell]

Athazagoraphobia

Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of forgetting. Children or adults with this condition tend to experience nausea, raised heart rate or panic attacks when attempting to remember someone they don't.

Ch.5

Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <--

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, sexual content, talks of suicide, suicide attempt, descriptions of extreme bodily harm, needles, this chapter gets dark, reader discretion is advised

Word Count: 13.7k

A/N: i have been looking forward to this chapter for so long oh my GOD i am vibrating. this is the shit i love, although the absolute BATTLE i just fought to get this post off the ground was long and arduous so rip my formatting tumblr didn't like it :( god gives his hardest battles to his silliest soldiers. also kurt and hank are here because i felt bad leaving them out timeline WHAT TIMELINE?

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside

To say Logan hadn’t gotten much sleep was an understatement. Sure, he’d dozed off here and there, but he would jolt awake every time you held so much as a sleepy breath. He couldn’t shake the image from his mind. Seven of them. The way their heads cocked at an unnatural angle. The way they silently stared, faceless, voiceless, seemingly just watching. Waiting. The way they sank back into the shadows the moment you stirred. They must have been from you, some subconscious product of your mutation. Still, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t creep him out a little. 

Though, he didn’t know what else he expected. You could manipulate and walk through shadows. You were bound to have some creepy quirks, as well as constantly looking tired, apparently. 

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, dust mites floating in the golden beams filtering through the leaves of the various plants near your window. You’d told him a while ago you’d named them all, something about giving them a voice making them grow faster, or something else equally as ridiculous. He still didn’t quite know which one was Molly and which one was Dalia, but he could tell his Herberts from his Judases, which was a start, he supposed. 

Fucking hell he was down so bad.

You still slept soundly against his chest, occasionally a soft snore would melt his heart, or a discontented pinch of your brow only to smooth out when you nestled closer. Part of him wished neither of you ever had to move. Actually, scrap that, he wished you didn’t have to move with his whole being. He silently thanked whoever came up with the idea of Saturdays and the knowledge that the two of you could spend a lazy morning in bed without the approaching threat of teaching a class. 

Maybe he would take you out today, steal Scott’s bike and escape for one peaceful moment. There were a few lakes nearby he wouldn’t mind visiting with you, end the day at a bar or something. The image of you perched behind him on the bike, your arms wrapped around his middle, cheek resting against his back made up his mind. He was definitely going to take you out today. Get away from everything for a while. Away from teaching, training, the possibility that if you didn’t get your mutation under control you could be lost to the shadows for good…

That kind of thing. 

He gazed down at you, your mussed hair and twitching features. He loved you. Logan knew that. Two months and he was already certain. It was just saying it, he struggled with. Admitting it out loud. That’s where the problems started. It was like he was cursed, the moment he uttered those three words, some kind of catastrophe would strike and he’d lose everything for good. 

He hoped you knew. Fuck, he hoped you knew. Hoped you knew that with every waking moment, he burned to be near you, seared with the need to touch you. Even innocently. A hand on your knee, an arm around your shoulder, anything. Sure, he’d happily spend the rest of his life with his face between your thighs or his cock submerged in your cunt, but that didn’t seem realistic. And, if nothing else, Logan was a man of realism. 

A sigh escaped your slightly parted lips, eyes fluttering slightly as you started to wake. He brushed the stray hairs from your face, your features scrunching, blinking awake. 

“Good mornin’,” he smiled, and you groaned in response, closing your eyes again and hiding your face in his chest.

“No.” your response was muffled but audible, and he cocked a brow.

“Bad mornin’?”

You shook your head slightly. “No morning. Wake me when it’s midday.”

If there was one thing Logan had learnt about you, it was that you were not a morning person. ‘Too much light’ was your typical excuse, and he couldn’t say he blamed you. He used to drag himself out of bed with the promise of a strong cup of coffee before he became a teacher. He didn’t know why he was shocked to learn you were a night owl, it made a shit ton of sense considering your mutation. Though he chalked it down to the fact that your smile shone like the sun itself.

“Coffee?” He asked, and that silenced your protests. Your clock was still discarded on the floor, but flicking his wrist up in front of his face, he grinned seeing the time. 8 am. Oh, you were going to be furious. Especially since it was a Saturday. 

“What time is it?” you asked, raising your head from his chest and turning your head to your window as if the sun had personally offended you. You had half the mind to storm over to the curtains and snap them closed. If only you hadn’t been so comfortable, you’d really show the sun what for.

“A little after eight…” he said tentatively, and your head whipped back to look at him, face a picture of utter disbelief. 

“You’re fucking joking.”

“Nope, sorry sweetheart, the clock doesn’t lie.” he showed you his wrist with the time, and you groaned in frustration, your forehead hitting his chest in defeat.

“It’s a goddamn Saturday, not even Jubilee is up this early on a Saturday.” You lamented, pulling the covers up and over your head. Logan chuckled slightly, finding your detest for mornings amusing as you hid from the sun. “Fucking curtains not being closed for the fucking light to get in fucking god fucking damnit.”

“Yeah, you tell ‘em.” His hand rested on your covered head in faux protection, feeling you shift beneath the duvet, your angry huff fanning his chest. 

“I will.” He could almost hear your pout, shuffling forward to poke your head from the covers like the world’s most gorgeous groundhog, the duvet wrapped tightly around your head so he could see only your face. “Did you say coffee?” You asked, and even if you didn’t have the hope of a child being offered a lollypop dancing in your eyes, he still would have nodded. Though with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. 

Couldn’t appear too keen to bend to your every request.

“What’ll you give me for it?” He smirked, knowing full well there were very few lengths you’d go through to acquire a fresh pot of caffeine in the morning. And your narrowed eyes confirmed that knowledge. 

“I’ll suck you so hard you’ll see fucking stars.”

Logan choked on his own saliva. He didn’t know what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t that. “Fuckin’ freak…” he muttered, failing miserably at hiding his smile. You flashed him a toothy grin, knowing you had him in a box. Honestly, you’d do it anyway just for fun and maybe to tease him a little. 

Logan threw back the covers on his side of the bed, waiting for you to move so he could sit up and start his coffee-making mission. Only, you didn’t move, just blinked at him expectantly. “You gotta move, hun.” 

“Why can’t you be telekinetic, so inconvenient.” You grumbled, reluctantly releasing him from your arms and rolling onto your other side, only to huff once again as sunlight invaded your eyes. “Fucking sun!”

Logan watched with no small degree of admiration as you angrily threw one of your pillows and the window, eyes tracking the trajectory as it hit the curtain with a slight thump before falling to the floor. “You showed him.” He quipped, receiving a small kick to his side. 

You looked over your shoulder as he stood, watching his naked body shamelessly. Shit, he was so fucking hot. Your mouth almost watered as he stretched his arms above his head, his back flexing, muscles tensing. You sat up a little against the headboard, sandwiching your thumb between your teeth as he flexed his back again, and this time you knew it was on purpose.

“Enjoyin’ yourself?” he didn’t even need to look to know your eyes were on him. He could feel them, for fuck’s sake. And your maniacal little laugh confirmed it all.

“You’re nice to look at, excuse me for finding you attractive.” There wasn’t even a hint of guilt in your voice. You really were a freak weren’t you? 

Logan slowly turned to face you, watching as your eyes dragged up and down his body, your mischievous smile only widening. He cast his gaze skyward, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Ya done?”

You clicked your tongue. “Not even close. But, I really want a coffee, so I guess I am for now.” You shrugged as if you hadn’t just been fucking the shit out of him with your eyes. Logan huffed a laugh, shaking his head in fond disbelief. As if you couldn’t be any more endearing. Yes, you were a grumpy little shit in the mornings, but you were his grumpy little shit. And he had a sneaking suspicion you might feel exactly the same about him. 

You rolled your eyes as he shrugged on his singlet, pulling up his briefs and jeans before looking around the room, unable to locate his belt. He spun in a slow circle, eyes scanning the floor. He swore it had fallen with his jeans. “Have you seen my–”

Hearing the telltale clink of metal, Logan looked back at you holding up the leather by his buckle. That was not where he thought he’d left it. He raised a brow of questioning, and you shrugged again. “I had it on hand. In case…” you trailed off and his eyes widened in scandal, brow furrowed.

“In case of what?!” 

“Just, in case.” You pursed your lips in an attempt to hide your filthy grin and failed spectacularly. Logan barked a laugh of disbelief, skirting around the bed and snatching the belt from your hands, tossing it on the covers as he trapped you in his arms.

“You,” he started, before pressing his lips to yours. “Are such,” he kissed you again. “A freak.” He finished, moulding his mouth against your own in a lingering, lingering dance. You giggled into his lips, your hands finding the soft strands of his hair. “Only two months in and you already want me to tie you up?” He drew back with a smirk, just far enough to see the perversity in your eyes.

“Who said anything about tying me up…?”

He blinked. How many fucking surprises were you going to spring on him this morning? “Hate to break it to ya darlin’, but if that’s your intention then a thin strip of leather ain’t gonna cut it.” 

Your irises sparkled with the realisation that he wasn’t saying no. “Well, in that case, I’ll just have to get something stronger.” You murmured, closing the gap between the two of you once again before breaking it almost immediately. “Maybe some of those metal zip ties… or just a really thick wire. I dunno, how strong are you?”

“Real fuckin’ strong.”

Your brows furrowed in thought, and he ruffled the top of your head. “Don’t strain yourself.”

You gaped in mock offence. “So rude. Go get coffee, I don’t even want to look at you right now.”

“Weren’t sayin’ that earlier, were ya?”

“Yeah, but now your shirt’s on.” 

“Face not good enough for ya?”

“Not when it’s insulting me, no.”

“And when it’s doing this?” Logan leaned into your neck, his tongue darting out to lick along the side of your throat, teeth gently nipping at your soft, bruised skin from last night. You gasped a strangled moan, still sensitive from where he’d left his marks on you. 

“That’s more forgivable.” You breathed as he drew back, a smug smirk plastered across his face. “Go, before I drag you back into bed and have my freaky little way with you, belt and all.” You wiggled your brows and he chuckled darkly, as if anything you said could be seen as a threat. But he acquiesced nonetheless, feeding his belt through the loopholes of his jeans, securing the clasp. 

“I’ll be back in a few.” He placed a kiss to your forehead and you hummed a soft, contented smile before he turned away and headed out down the hallway. You were right, it was far too early for anyone to be awake on a Saturday. As far as he could hear, nobody was up yet, which just meant he got a good few more hours to spend with you before the rest of the mansion started to think you were either dead or missing. You weren’t a morning person, but that didn’t mean you weren’t up most mornings, just with a face like thunder. 

He loosened a contented sigh, cracking open the door to the kitchen before crossing to the kettle and flicking the switch, listening to the low hiss of the water heating up before he pulled open the overhead cupboards to retrieve two mugs, a glass one for him and your favourite one for you. Logan realised with no small degree of shame that he didn’t actually know your birthday, and come to think of it, nobody else had mentioned it either. He hoped it hadn’t already been and gone, seeing your small collection of mugs had given him the perfect idea. 

He rifled around for a bit, before locating the larger, cáfetier. It was easily big enough for two cups and then some. Popping open the steel lid to the coffee grounds, he spooned four heaps into the glass, guestimating the correct amount. Two heaps each seemed about right…

It had been too long since his biggest worry was something as domestic as how many heaps of coffee should he put in a cáfetier for two. It gave him a sense of peace, despite the events of three days ago. And with nobody else up and about yet, it really did feel like the two of you were alone in the world. 

And honestly, he’d be fine with that.

At least, it did feel like, before the fantasy was shattered by approaching footsteps. Logan groaned internally, knowing that gait and heft anywhere. He didn’t even need to turn around to know it was Scott. Why, of all people, did it have to be fucking Scott.

“Logan… I didn’t know you’d be in here so early.” His tone was curt, stunted almost as if he was allergic to being nice. Logan simply grunted, pouring the freshly boiled water into the cáfetier and placing the lid on. 

“I was just leavin’.” He responded gruffly, hooking his fingers around the two mug handles and carefully lifting the coffee pot, making for a quick escape before Scott cleared his throat. 

“I uh… Look man, I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Logan paused, giving Scott a sidelong glance, a silent suggestion for him to continue. “About what happened the other day. The Professor was right, it wasn’t the time for us to fight.”

Logan grit his teeth. “That’s what you’re apologising for? Not for suggesting we should just get rid of her?” he snarled, his fingers tightening on the mug handles. Scott sighed, running a stressed hand through his hair. 

“It’s not– It’s not that simple, Logan. She’s done this before, and last time it resulted in the death of one of our teammates. Jade was so kind. And she–”

“Loved her, yeah I know.” Logan finished, and Scott started in surprise.

“She told you that?” he asked, disbelief lacing his tone.

“I’m startin’ to think you’ve never actually had a conversation with her.” He bit, keeping his self-control intact. Though he didn’t know how annoyed you’d be if he told you he’d smashed your favourite mug over Scott’s head. 

“She was my teammate before you were, Logan. I– It’s not easy to be the one to make these decisions, or even suggest them. But sometimes we need to do things to protect other people. You know that.”

Logan nodded in confirmation. He did know that. He knew that better than anyone. “And you should know that there is nothing I won’t do to protect her. So you come at her again, spoutin’ bullshit about neutralising a threat, and there’ll be no Professor to stop me from tearin’ you apart. Got it?” He snarled, subconsciously baring his teeth. Scott sighed again. It wasn’t uncommon for Logan to threaten his life, when they first met it was almost on a daily basis. 

“I don’t want to neutralise her. I just want her under control,” he explained wearily. “Sure, the first time this happened and she killed Jade, I’d been the one to suggest that. But we were scared. We were damn terrified of her. It was only thanks to Jean that she came back.”

Logan paused for a moment. He knew Jean was keeping something under wraps. “How? What exactly did she say?”

Scott shrugged, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. “No clue. She wouldn’t tell me. She told me to ask the Professor, but we were all a little caught up in grief to ask questions at that point, and by the time we’d all managed to move on, it didn’t seem to matter anymore,” Scott paused, evidently debating his next words. “But she responded to you. We all saw that. So, what I’m trying to say, is keep doing whatever it is you’re doing. None of us want her gone, Logan. We couldn’t help her, but maybe you can.”

It was the closest thing to a compliment Logan had ever received from the man, and he honestly didn’t know what to do with it. So he nodded in silent acknowledgement. It wasn’t exactly an olive branch, but something had definitely shifted in their dynamic. But before he could contemplate it further, Scott piped up again. “I’m happy for you two, by the way. You really complement each other. Or maybe I’m just happy you haven’t been making eyes at Jean for the last two months.”

Nevermind. He hated the prick. “Go fuck yourself, Scott,” he uttered with disinterest, and if he had either of his hands free, he would have flipped him off as he left. Heading back up the stairs, Logan wondered when it would ever just stop. When everything would finally come to a halt and he could have just one day for the two of you and not think about anything catastrophic happening. Yet here he was, climbing the flight of stairs up to the third floor, contemplating your mortality. He fucking hated it. 

And he was having such a nice morning, too. 

Shouldering open the door to your room, he was greeted by an empty space and the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, steam rolling out of the small gap where you’d left the door open a crack. Maybe he could still salvage this morning after all. 

Settling down the coffee and mugs on your nightstand, he left the grounds to soak in the water before briskly stripping off his clothes, leaving them in a collected pile at the foot of your bed and slowly opening the bathroom door a little wider. It was like a sauna in there, steam fogging up the mirror, the walls sweating. You hummed a soft tune, one he recognised after a beat.

It was the same song he’d asked you to dance to. 

His heart inflated as he opened the steamed-up door to step in behind you, wasting no time in wrapping his arms around your waist to your small jump and gasp of surprise.

“‘S’just me, don’t worry,” he soothed, burying his face in the crook of your slick neck. Your hair hung limp, freshly washed as you leaned back into him, holding his arms against you.

“Mmm, was just thinking about you.” You hummed, and if Logan wasn’t already half hard at the sight of your dripping naked body, that low, sultry tone of your voice would have been enough. 

“Yeah?” he loosened his grip so you could turn around to face him, your arms slinking up his body and around his neck. “What about me?” he asked, biting back his groan as you swapped places with him, warm water cascading down his back. 

“‘Bout last night… all the things I didn’t get to do…” You teased his lips with whispers of kisses, barely making contact as you held his gaze hostage, your eyes darkening with each passing moment. He felt lightheaded already when you bypassed his mouth altogether, your teeth instantly biting down against his collarbone. 

“Like what?” he strained, his hands skirting up and down your waist, your lips trailing up the hollow of his throat, over to the side of his neck where you sucked a harsh bruise that, to your irritation, faded instantly. You knew doing it again was a losing battle, but that didn’t stop you from sinking your teeth into his flesh, feeling his rising groan on your tongue as you smoothed over the unmarked skin. Your hands braced against his chest as you rose up on your tip toes to breath into his ear.

“I wasn’t joking earlier.” Was all you muttered, nibbling at his earlobe and leaving the side of his head tingling before you travelled lower down the curve of his fuzzy jaw, back down the path you’d carved for yourself, pressing kisses down his chest, your nails lightly scratching down either side of his ribs, following the curve of his hip bone and to his hard cock. 

Logan inhaled as you took him in your wet palms, squeezing around his shaft, delivering pinches with your teeth around one of his nipples, clamping down around when you teased his already leaking tip.

“Shit…” he gasped as you sucked against his shockingly sensitive bud, the scent of your own arousal heightened in the steamy heat, driving him mad with need. Releasing him from your mouth, you giggled softly as he thrust into your grip, his hands sliding from your waist to your hair as you sank to your knees before him, making sure you kept eye contact. 

  Sticking out your tongue, you waited for what felt like an eternity to him, before you delivered a small kitten lick to the underside of his cock. His jaw fell open as he watched you, all your attention now stuck on teasing the fuck out of him, not going any further than small, short swipes. He didn’t want to push you but holy shit were you testing his self-control. 

“Fuckin’ tease.” He huffed, gritting his teeth when your malleable tongue traced one of the thick, pulsing veins down the side of his shaft. His fingers tightened in your hair, though not to move you, rather just to feel you beneath his fingertips. 

Logan’s head fell back as your lips enveloped his sensitive tip, and he realised he would happily drown in this shower if it meant you didn’t stop, water washing away the sweat from his brow, bouncing off his closed eyes. A gravelly moan bubbled from his chest, echoing slightly off the walls. “Jus’ like that, baby,” he whispered almost to himself as you took him further, your pointed tongue dragging down the underside of his cock, one of your hands pumping what you couldn’t fit, the other braced against his hip to hold him still. 

You bobbed your head slowly, tasting the distinct musk and salt of his ecstasy as you flattened your tongue, hollowing your cheeks and humming lowly. The bathroom became an orchestra of gravelly groans and airy gasps, all drowned out from the outside world by the running water. Sinking into a comfortable rhythm, you looked up at his head thrown back, one of his hands had moved from your hair to the wall as he all but leaned against it.

Opening your throat, you slipped him further in your mouth until your nose was nestled comfortably against the coarse hairs at his naval. There you held him for a moment, swallowing around his cock and he fucking whimpered at the feeling of your throat squeezing him. You gagged slightly, and Logan looked down, his jaw slack as he took in possibly one of the hottest things he’d ever seen in his over a century of being alive. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and he made to pull away to give you a moment to breathe. But the moment he shifted, your nails dug sharply into either side of his hips, holding him against you. 

He stuttered moaning of your name and you knew he was close, so you hummed around him again, the vibrations of your voice travelling his throbbing length. The hand in your hair tightened as he slowly thrust his hips into your wanting mouth, gently fucking your face. 

“Jesus Christ you feel good…” he uttered breathlessly, tensing his jaw as he approached his peak. You smiled wickedly around his cock, dragging your slick tongue down that same vein you were paying attention to earlier as he moved back, your teeth ever so slightly scraping atop his length, and it was his undoing. 

Pleasure flooded his senses, fire coursing through his blood as he went to pull from your mouth, only to have you angrily shove your head forward, swallowing again around his member as he threw his head back to embrace the stream of the shower. “Fuck, fuck!” He stuttered a long, drawn-out groan as he spilled into your mouth, painting your throat white as his hips bucked uncontrollably, the tips of his claws poking through his knuckles as he fought to keep control, stars dancing behind his eyes.

The waves of ecstasy receded with each pulse, leaving him dizzy and gasping, his head falling forward to catch his breath and steady himself. Looking up from your knees, you drew back, leaving a lingering kiss on the head of his cock, your hands gently squeezing his thighs. 

“You okay?” You asked, rising to your feet, palm softly cupping the underside of his jaw and moving his face to look at you. He was stunned, dazed almost, as he wordlessly searched your eyes for an answer to a silent question. You laughed a little, and he drew you in with a thumb and forefinger pinching your chin, claiming your mouth with his lips in a delicately passionate kiss. The way he tasted himself on your tongue almost had him hardening again. 

“You almost suffocated yourself and you’re asking if I’m okay?” he asked with subdued disbelief, and you grinned wildly. 

“You seemed out of it for a moment, wanted to make sure I didn’t kill you.” You responded with airy innocence, and Logan huffed a laugh.

“Murder attempt number two. Not a great track record, huh?” He teased lightly, and you narrowed your eyes at him. But before you could come up with some witty retort, he sank to his knees before you, throwing a leg over his shoulder so bruskly you had to steady yourself against the wall. “Fuck you’re so hard to ignore when you smell this fuckin’ sweet, darlin’.” He murmured, before wasting no time in devouring your cunt until you were whimpering his name and gushing all over his tongue. 

Consider the morning salvaged.

“This is going to be insanely strong coffee.” You called from the bedroom as Logan dried his hair with a spare towel, draping it across his shoulders before padding out the join you. “Someone didn’t want to leave the shower.” You shot pointedly with a small grin. He simply shrugged in response, trying not to be too disappointed that you’d thrown on a baggy t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs. 

“Not sure how I’m to blame for that.” He crossed the room to stand behind you, towel wrapped dangerously low around his hips and circled his arms around your waist, setting his chin atop your head. “You started it.” 

You leaned back into his chest, basking in the warmth of his embrace. It was these little moments of soft domesticity that you craved with him. Yeah, the sex was great. Mind-blowing, in fact, and teaching and training with him was a fantastic excuse for the two of you to spend time with each other, but it was these moments you valued. Swaying in the kitchen to whatever song blared from the radio, your head resting on his lap as you dozed off to some shitty reality tv-show, or vice versa. These were the moments you’d remember when you were old and grey and he was–

Still looking gorgeous and young. Fuck, you hadn’t thought about that. How had that only just occurred to you? You pushed the thought into the furthest corners of your mind. Now was not the time to be entertaining such things. 

“Why did you take so long, by the way? I was halfway through the intended length of my shower by the time you got back.” You asked, mourning the loss of his contact as you went to pour the coffee into the two mugs, your heart expanding when you saw he’d picked your favourite one. The one Kitty gifted you. 

“Ran into Scott in the kitchen…” You snorted at the irritation in his tone, clearly not a fond memory. 

“What’d he have to say for himself?” A hand extended behind you, clasping the top of the glass mug between your fingertips as you handed it to him, pouring yourself a mug of your own before you turned to sit on the bed.

“Thanks. He was just runnin’ his mouth, to be honest with ya. Though he did apologise, which felt weird.” Logan returned to his side of the bed, sitting up against the headboard and raising his arm as a silent request for you to join him. You shuffled closer, ducking beneath his arm and cosying into his side, making sure to hold your full mug of coffee steady. 

“He did? What for?” 

“We argued the whole training thing. He was apologising for the timing of it.” 

You snorted a laugh into your mug. “Trust Scott to apologise for the thing that mattered least. But it’s a start, I guess. He say anything else?”

“Not really. Said he was happy for us and that we complemented each other, which also felt weird.” He didn’t think you’d be thrilled about the Jean comment, so he left that in the past like he had his feelings for her. 

“Huh. Strangely nice of him.”

“‘S what I thought.” 

You sipped on your drink, pleasantly surprised it was still warm, savouring the bitter-roasted flavour. “Yeah, a little too long, think the beans are a bit burnt, but it’s still good.”

“How’dya know the beans are burnt?” 

“You can taste it. Or I can. I was a barista for a while, dontcha know?”

He raised a brow. No, he didn’t know that. “How many jobs have you had?” He asked, impressed that you had such a wide range of skills. You thought for a moment, it was actually a pretty good question. 

“Ya know what? I have no idea. What’s funny is that I never remember quitting them either. I’d just wake up one day and bam! New job. I guess I liked to bounce around a lot. Still do.” You elbowed him, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively and he groaned in exhaustion. 

“Terrible.”

“You liked it.” You stuck out your tongue and he huffed in amusement. Yeah, he did. And he wasn’t about to deny it.

Logan paused for a moment, knowing the next topic he wanted to talk to you about was likely going to be a sensitive one. You hadn’t told him for a reason, and if you didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t push you, but he wanted to let you know that he knew. “Can I see your wrist…?”

Predictably, you shot from his side, muttering a curse as your coffee sloshed from your mug and onto your hand. It wasn’t like you’d made an effort to hide your scars, it was more that you banked on the fact that people, generally, were too afraid to ask. But you should have guessed Logan of all people wouldn’t shy away from something like that. Not where you were concerned anyway. 

Tentatively, you set your mug down on the nightstand, turning back to him and offering one of your wrists. He did the same, shifting to set his own mug down before slowly taking your outstretched hand in his own, inspecting the deep, faded scar with the pad of his thumb. “When?” He asked gently.

“Years ago. It’s all kind of a blur really, and I don’t remember much of it. I just– I was terrified of being a mutant and couldn’t see a way out. I think my brother found me, and took me to a hospital. I don’t know why they’re still there, honestly. I’ve used my mutation countless times since, but I guess scars are as part of the mind as they are the body. Or something like that.” It was the only explanation you had for the marks littering your body, not just the ones on your wrists, but your chest, thighs, and neck. You were a scrappy kid, always picking fights with the wrong people. 

Logan brought your wrist up to his lips, ghosting featherlight kisses down the raised line. “I’m so sorry.” He murmured, and your heart bled. He had nothing to apologise for, you hoped he knew that. 

“‘S’okay. I… learned to accept what I am. Rowan helped me with that. That’s his name, don’t know if I ever told you. After he was done being mad at me, that is. Not that I blame him. I don’t know what I would have done had the roles been reversed.” 

“You got on well, didn’t ya?”

You sighed. “Yes and no. We did when we were kids, but as we got older we started to drift apart. I think the grief over our parents changed him, and he got more cautious, whereas I got more reckless. We would fight a lot, but that didn’t mean I loved him any less. I just wish I could remember what our last argument was about. We were so fucking mad at each other, I left and deleted his fucking number.” You huffed a sigh of past frustration, turning to retrieve your mug of coffee. 

That was news to him. He didn’t know your parents had died. He knew they weren’t around during your teen years, but he didn’t know they’d died. But the way you just casually mentioned it told him it was a topic that didn’t need discussing right now. 

You settled back against him, his arm draping over your shoulders, your head dropping to the dip in between his collarbone and neck as silence settled back over you. You appreciated the way he didn’t press you for more. You doubted you’d be satisfied with such a brazen explanation, and you knew he most likely had more questions for you, so when he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, you smiled against his skin. 

“‘M gonna take you out today.”

“Like on a date or with a gun?”

You felt his snort of laughter against your cheek. “Have you always been this dark?”

“I’m a shadow weaver, comes with the territory.” You responded nonchalantly. 

“‘S that was you’re calling yourself now?”

“Nah. I still kinda like Phantom. But who knows, maybe I’ll change my mind someday.” You raised your head to take another sip of your coffee, grimacing as the liquid had gone from piping hot to lukewarm.

“On a date, dumbass. Thought we could get away for a while.” He brushed a strand of your hair back from your face, smoothing over your eyebrow with his thumb. 

“What’d ya have in mind?” You asked, leaning into his touch a fraction. 

“Take a drive, head to one of the lakes in the area, grab a drink after. Things normal couples do.”

You huffed in amusement. “We’re not a normal couple, Lo’.”

He smirked slightly. “Yeah, I know. You’re a freak.”

“And you’re not? Mister ‘I can smell your arousal and it gets me going’.” You poked the centre of his chest and he flicked your forehead in retaliation. 

“You up for it?” 

“I get to spend the day away from the kids and visit a super scenic lake with my second favourite mutant in the mansion? Followed by an evening of drinking in a bar? You might as well have asked me to marry you here and now.” 

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, we’re n– wait second favourite?”

You nodded, looking at him like the answer was obvious. “Well yeah, Kitty bought me my favourite mug so she reserves favourite person rights.” 

“S’that how it works?”

“Bit slow on the uptake aren’t ya?” Logan pushed you off him, careful not to shove you too hard so you spilt any more coffee on yourself.

“I take it back. We’re gonna spend the day here.” You gasped dramatically, setting your drained mug to the side before trying to cosy back up to him, only for his arm to hold you at bay.

“I lied, I lied! You’re incredibly smart and quick and my favourite person I’ve ever met ever!” You exclaimed through fits of laughter as you tried to fight through the wall of sinewy muscle. 

“Didn’t hear ya. Come again?” He held you off with one hand, the other effortlessly raising his mug of coffee to his lips. It was a testament to his strength how he could keep you back with just one arm.

Maybe metal cable ties weren’t strong enough after all…

You conceded, flopping down onto the pillows next to you, bubbles of laughter still popping from your chest. “When do you wanna leave? What time is it actually?” you asked, taking him by the wrist only to see he wasn’t wearing his watch. Must have taken it off to shower.

“Lemme check, hold on.” Logan leaned down off the bed where the poor alarm clock still lay completely abandoned, retrieving your lamp at the same time and setting them both on the nightstand. “Just gone nine. Leave in an hour? I think it’s roughly three hours by car, but Scott’s bike shaves off at least half an hour so…” He shrugged with a cheeky grin, and you laughed at the mischief in his eyes.

“Gives us around six hours to ourselves, minus the journey. Sounds perfect to me.” Being unable to withstand a lack of physical contact with you for any longer than three minutes, Logan lifted his arm for you again, and you returned to the home you’d built next to his heart.

“We should get out more…” he lamented softly, his hand holding your shoulder, thumb stroking your soft skin beneath the short sleeve of your t-shirt. 

“If we had the time, that would be great.” You sighed, feeling his slight despondency. If only your circumstances had been different, and you were just a normal couple that could do normal couples things. But now, you had to teach younger mutants how not to accidentally kill the wrong people, and how to effectively kill the right people. Not only that, but you had to train to ensure you didn’t accidentally kill yourself in the process.

Fuck’s sake.

A fist knocked at the door three times, and you braced for Kitty to simply let herself in. But the longer the silence after lingered, the surer you became that, whoever was on the other side of the door, wasn’t Kitty.

“Come in!” You called, not making any efforts to obscure either yourself of Logan. The whole mansion knew by now, it wasn’t like you were trying to keep it a secret. The door opened to reveal Ororo, her white hair neatly tied back from her face. 

“Morning! Just wanted to– oh. Hey Logan…” she eyed the two of you suspiciously and you shared a glance with him. The fact he was only dressed in a towel and you in a loose tee and boxer briefs didn’t exactly help your case of innocence. “Right… anyway, I guess this saves me two trips. Xavier has a conference in Connecticut, Jean’s going with him. They’re giving a talk on starting up a new school for both mutants and humans to start coexisting, so you’re both on babysitting duty.”

Your heart sank. “What the hell are you and Scott doing?!” You asked accusingly, sitting up from Logan’s chest. Storm’s brows pinched like she seemed genuinely remorseful this was how things had to be.

“Tying up some loose ends for Kurt and Hank before picking them up. They’ve been away for a while now, but they’re back today. That and Scott has some errands to run, so we’ll be back late.” She explained sheepishly, and you groaned in frustration. The one day off you thought you could have and you’ve been stuck with babysitting.

The gods really like shitting in your dinner, don’t they?

“Alright… but you owe us.” Logan piped up, and you whipped your head to him in exasperation. He read your face instantly. ‘Are we really going to do this?’

‘Like we have a choice.’ he silently communicated back, and he knew you’d understood what he’d said when you sighed heavily, dragging a hand down the side of your face.

“Fucking fine, but Logan’s right, you owe us. And I was wondering where those two had got to, how long’ve they been away?”

Ororo loosened a breath of relief. “Thank you. And next Saturday? All your’s, I promise. As for Kurt and Hank, around a year or so? Xavier sent him off on a private mission not even we knew about until a couple months ago, just before you came back. We’re going to pick them up just to make sure they get here safely.” She didn’t seem too confident about wherever Nightcrawler and Beast had been.

“That dangerous, huh?” As if the mere mention of a dangerous mission set him on edge, Logan’s arm wrapped back around your shoulders protectively. Neither of you had been required for one since your return, and he was honestly dreading the day. 

“Kurt’ll explain more when he gets back I’m sure, but yeah, that dangerous. Hank doesn’t like to go on missions like these, but apparently, Charles needed his diplomatic expertise and Kurt’s quick getaways, so who knows?” Ororo shrugged, before looking pointedly at Logan’s bare chest and then your bare legs. “Do I even wanna know what you guys were up to before I knocked…?”

You laughed, waving off her concerns. “Having a coffee and chatting about the day we did have planned before being landed with babysitting duty, nothing exciting don’t you worry.”

“Unless you wanna talk about the shower…” You shot Logan a scandalised look, mouth and eyes wide in utter shock.

“Ew, no, I’m good, see you later.” Ororo shielded her eyes as she left as if she could unsee the mental image Logan had just planted there. As soon as the door shut you smacked his arm with the back of your hand.

“What was that for?”

“Did it look like she was gonna leave anytime soon to you?” You took a moment to think about it, and Logan’s expression shifted to self-satisfaction. “Exactly.”

Well, you couldn’t argue with that. You offered him a little, defeated smile. “Guess our day off will have to wait.”

He leaned forward, tucking you into his side before relaxing back against the headboard. “I’ll take you out soon, ‘kay? Promise.”

“Like, on a date or w–” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before he clapped his hand over your mouth, stopping you midway through.

“Enough. It wasn’t funny the first time, why did you think it would be funny again?” 

You stuck your tongue out to lick his palm, a foolproof method of removing someone’s hand from your mouth. Or, at least it had been foolproof in the past. But you raised your eyes to his face, and he looked at you with disinterest. “Not gonna work, firefly.” 

You adored that nickname. He never explained where it came from or why he started it, but it didn’t matter to you. As long as he never stopped. 

Thick black boots pounded the floorboards as you raced through the hallways of the mansion, vibrations humming up your legs with every step, your breath like fire in your lungs. Shouts and screams echoed in every corner, flashes of torchlight illuminating cones of white against the walls like searchlights. The Professor was away. Why was the Professor always fucking away?

Sliding to a halt as you heard footsteps around the corner, you quickly slipped into the shadows, hushed voices muffled as if underwater as you jumped to the ceiling. Light separated the shadows, and four silhouetted figures walked cautiously beneath you. You could make out the outlines of their guns as the torch shifted before the hallway was again drenched in darkness as they continued their search.

Morphing to the floor, you reformed from the black, stealing a quick glance behind you to where they’d disappeared. There were no students that way, Logan and Scott had made sure of that. The moment Logan had sensed something was off, the evacuation had begun, escorting the students silently from their beds and through the hidden channel behind the panel wall. You knew there were stragglers, but you focused on the knowledge Ororo and Kurt were with them.

How had things gotten so out of hand so goddamn fast? You’d woken up on Logan’s chest this morning feeling like a whole new mutant, comfort wrapped around your heart like an embrace. Now, the opposite couldn’t be more true. You cursed the fact that Jean followed Xavier around like a lost soul. You could really use her help right about now. 

A piercing, shooting pain rushed through your head as you clamped your hands down over your ears, crouching to the floor. Your eardrums throbbed as you recognised that ability, gut knotting at the realisation that Theresa was still inside somewhere, her sonic scream sending waves of agony through your mind before it stopped abruptly. Fuck.

With a new sense of urgency, you sprinted through the entrance hall, taking the stairs two at a time. If you’d been a little more focused on your surroundings and less hellbent on saving the girl, perhaps you would have noticed the line of guns pointed in your direction. One moment you were racing full speed down the first-floor hallway, the next you’d frozen solid as torches flared simultaneously, erasing any easily accessible shadow. You braced, knowing after they “killed” you, they’d turn away and leave you to sink into the darkness and reform. 

But they held fire, your strained pants the only sound in the eerie silence of the bedroom corridor. 

“They were right…” you whipped your head back to the voice behind you, knees bent in anticipation as two figures stepped from the room you knew to be Jubilee’s, and you prayed to whatever sick, twisted gods above that Logan or Scott had got to her first. The torches behind you revealed a man you thought to be in his thirties, a pair of thick, round glasses perched on the end of his crooked nose. He was taller than whoever was next to him and unnaturally thin. “We missed you dearly.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Come again?” You spat, eyes darting between the two.

The man just laughed heartily, opening his arms as if offering you a hug. “Of course, how could I be so rude? I’ve read the reports… Subject Five, if you could be so kind.”

Panic surged through your body as Subject Five stepped forward, a golden glow emanating from beneath its clothes. Your eyes closed instinctively as the hallway lit up as though the sun had risen, your hands flying to shield your face. 

“That’s a bit better. You look good, Eight, but you always were the resilient one.” You were barely listening, still caught up in the dawning revelation that you knew that mutation. You’d know that mutation anywhere. “We’re here to take you home. Subject One isn’t here, sadly, so I’m afraid you’re just going to have to take my word for it, but we really have missed you.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” you managed to grit, your eyes adjusting to the light as you cracked them open a little.

“I have to say, when I received word you were a teacher now, it almost made me laugh. You hated kids! Why on earth would you surround yourself with them? But then it dawned on me. A mutant school. If only my great-grandfather had thought of that at the start.” He continued as if you were engaging in nothing but a pleasant conversation in the park.

“Ya know, for someone who talks so much, you really are saying very little.” you quipped, finding a nugget of solace in the fact that this man didn’t want you dead, at least as far as you could tell. “Let’s start with introductions, yeah?”

He chuckled again. “You’re absolutely right. My name is Doctor Kreva. This man here, why you should already know him, even without Subject One to help out.” he was almost condescending in his tone, and you hated the fact he was right. You did know the mutant. And your heart bled for him. What the fuck was he doing here? Why was he raiding the school with this chucklefuck?

“Means nothing to me. The fuck do you want?” you snarled, to his further amusement.

“Were you not listening, darling? We want to take you home. My father was so stupid for letting you go,” it was the first emotion you’d seen on his face beyond sadistic joy. His eyes filled with frustrated hatred. “He never had the stomach for science. And after Seven somehow managed to kill my mother, a problem you so kindly took care of, he started to pity you all.” He spat like the word was venomous before he took a breath of collection. “Seven years it’s taken to track you all down and rebuild what he destroyed. Seven long years. But we’re nearly there. All we’re waiting for is you.”

Your breath got stuck in your throat. Seven years ago, you and Jade were picked up by Jean and Ororo on the side of that highway. How could he possibly know any of this? “You got the wrong gal, sorry bub.” Oh, you’d been spending way too much time with Logan. Dr. Kreva sighed, holding out his hand expectantly. Like a king’s attendance, one of the guards stepped up from behind you, making sure to keep his shadow far from your reach, before he slung a heavy pack from his shoulder, dropping it into Kreva’s waiting hand. 

The doctor took a knee, removing one of the thickest folder’s you think you’d ever seen, and holding it up. It was old. Incredibly old. Whatever colour it had been originally had faded to a pale grey, the edges frayed and splitting. He placed it on the floor face up, and your eyes caught sight of a label, though it was too far away for you to read accurately. 

“Everything you think you know is a lie, Phantom. Didn’t you think it strange your memories are jumbled? Important moments of your life scrambled or forgotten. Loose ends never tied, arguments never resolved? But this, this holds everything. Your entire life, in one folder. All eighty-two years you were with us.”

You scrunched your face, slightly offended. “I’m thirty-two, asshole.” You spat back, your skin starting to burn under such intense lighting, those threads in your body begging to be released into the shadows to escape. 

“So that’s the age he decided before releasing you. Interesting. Well, I’ll have Subject One rectify that when you’re back with us. Tranq her. Now. Subject Three, begin evacuation.” Before you could even turn around to defend yourself, a sharp pain spiked the side of your neck. You froze, blood draining from your face as you realised you’d been pierced with a needle. Heartbeat rising, you fought the urge to throw up. You didn’t know where your fear stemmed from, but you assumed it was when you were taken for blood tests as a child.

If… if that even happened. Because if you were to believe anything this dickwad said, maybe you didn’t even have a childhood. 

Your vision started to swim, and you angrily blinked the grogginess away. “Rowan… wh– what’re y– what’re you doing…?” You could barely finish the sentence as the tranquiliser entered your bloodstream, taking quick effect on your mind as you struggled to stay upright, your knees buckling as you threw your arms out to catch yourself. Shadows. You needed a shadow. But there was nothing to morph into. Nothing you could reach to rid yourself of this feeling. Everything became muffled, as if you were underwater, only barely able to hear a gut-wrenching roar before your vision went dark, and you were out cold. 

Logan raced up the stairs, fury pumping through his blood. He’d been looking everywhere for you, crashing through doorways and slicing through skin and muscle to find you. Hank had mentioned he’d seen you sprinting toward Theresa’s room after she’d screamed, and he didn’t wait to hear the rest of what he’d said before he took off at a run. He crested the first flight just in time to see three figures halfway down the lit hallway, obscuring your unconscious body. He didn’t even take a minute to acknowledge the light was emanating from the figure on the right, rather than the lights themselves. The man in the centre turned just as Logan bellowed a cry of pure, unadulterated rage, offering him a curious tilt of his head before the one one the left took hold of each other their shoulders, and they disappeared before his eyes.

He didn’t care. They were gone and you remained. That was all that mattered. Racing to your side, he saw the cause of your condition, pulling the tranquiliser out from your neck and cautiously lifting you into his lap, checking your pulse just to be sure. 

You were alive. Your heart was still beating. He almost shook with relief. 

“It’s okay, I got you firefly, I got you.” He soothed, brushing your hair back and cradling you against his chest. “You’re safe now. You’re okay.”

“Logan?” He turned his head back down the hallway, heightened sight able to make out Kurt and Scott by the stairs, Kurt wringing his hands with worry. “Is she–”

“She’s fine, just out cold. Theresa’s still in her room if you wanna make sure she’d okay.” He gestured to the room a few doors down, and Kurt jogged passed him, pausing as he saw the file on the ground. 

His eyes widened slightly, gaze flickering from the file name to your unconscious form, then back again, before looking at Logan. Crouching down, he flipped the folder so it was facing him, before continuing to Theresa’s room.

Logan froze as he read the scrawled, ink-smudged handwriting on the front of the file, his blood turning to ice in his veins. 

NLMO. Subject Eight. “Phantom”.

Logan paced as he waited outside the med-bay, chewing at the cuticles of his thumb. Scott, Jean and Charles were having a heated debate in the room to his right, he could hear raised voices even with the doors closed. Ororo and Kurt had chosen to wait with him, Kurt crouched against the wall opposite and Ororo fixed her hair every two minutes. A nervous twitch, he noticed.

Since Jean was currently held up in the furious discussion, Hank had offered to perform the routine checkups on all the mutants they’d managed to tranquilise, yourself included. It had been four hours since the attack, and he still hadn’t shown his blue furry face. Then again, there were quite a few students who’d been targeted, not just you. 

The meeting to his right went quiet before the doors slid open and Scott stormed out, a face like thunder. Logan couldn’t blame him, he had his own anger on a tight leash, simmering just below the surface. What the fuck was going on? Who the hell were you? Did Charles know about this? Did Jean? Was that why she’d been so strange lately after the training incident? The idea of the two of them knowing and not telling anyone made him want to tear apart the whole fucking mansion, and it seemed Scott was on the same wavelength as him for once. 

“Scott wait!” Jean called after him, running after the furious man, but not before casting Logan a cautious glance. He just glared at her in response, before she hurried to catch up with Scott.

“You should have told me, Jean. I’m supposed to lead this goddamn team, how can I do that without knowing who I’m dealing with. No wonder she can’t control her fucking mutation, and I’ve been made to look like a monster for wanting the situation sorted when you knew about this the whole time!” He heard Scott rage, and it was the first time he’d actually heard him raise his voice to her. It would have almost been refreshing if he hadn’t just answered one of Logan’s most burning questions. 

She did know about it. Oh, he was going to have a little chat with her later about that. 

There was a beat before Charles wheeled from the room, his face a grim picture. He loosened a breath upon seeing the three of them still waiting, his eyes lingering on Logan, the file held in his lap. Logan grit his teeth.

“Did you know?” Was all he asked, and Charles said nothing, moving his gaze to the med-bay doors. That just pissed him off further. “Did. You. Know?” he spat every word like venom, balling his fists in an attempt to keep his anger in check. 

“Yes,” Charles replied softly, as if speaking any louder would set him off. But Logan didn’t need him to raise his voice. That was all he needed to hear for his trust in the Professor to shatter completely. “Some memories are better off forgotten, Logan. You of all people know that.”

“Not her entire life!” He clamoured, causing both Ororo and Kurt to jump a little in surprise. He took a deep breath. It wasn’t their fault. They were as in the dark as the rest of the team. Except, it seemed, team telekinesis. “What’s in that folder, Charles? And tell me honestly. No more bullshit.” He seethed, though, to his subconscious surprise, Xavier held the file out to him. 

“That’s for you to find out. If you wish. But I’ll warn you, Logan. Nothing in that file is good. Nothing is happy. Everything that’s happened to her in the last eighty years or so.” He explained sombrely, and Logan didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or scream. Eighty years? How was that possible? You were thirty-two. You’d said so yourself. None of this made any goddamn sense. How could you just forget the fact you’d lived at least eighty years of your life? As if Charles had read his mind, which he most likely had, he spoke up again. “A powerful mutant with a focus on memory altering known as Subject One, or Obscurity. From what I could gather, he could alter and re-alter memories, planting ones that never existed and pushing those that deep to the farthest reaches of their minds. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best they had at the time.”

The best they had? The best they had? Logan wanted to punch something. Or someone. Preferably someone bald and in a wheelchair. But he refrained himself when the doors behind him whooshed open, and Hank stepped through. 

“All stable. Took a little longer than I thought it would. I think Jones will be out for another few hours, maybe a day or so. The poor little guy barely sleeps as it is, so a tranq knocked him for six.” Hank explained before sensing the tension in the room. Logan said nothing, almost knocking Beast to the ground as he breezed past him, uncaring as he was once again greeted by yet another sight of you lying unconscious on a metal table.

This was becoming a bad habit of yours.

“She should wake within the hour. The tranqs weren’t too strong, only designed for short knockouts rather than extended periods of unconscious.” Logan was barely listening, his heart clenching as you slept peacefully, hooked up to another fucking machine. How many of these have you been hooked up to in your life? How many other machines have you been monitored on? Was that how you received the scars? Or had that part of your story been true? Did you know anything about this? Or had you been lying to him the whole fucking time?

He had too many questions for you, but he knew how he could answer them. He extended a hand behind him. “Hand me the file.”

“Logan, you should–”

“Hand me the fucking file.” His arm shook impatiently, and there was a beat before Ororo took the folder from Charles and placed it in his waiting hand. Christ, it was hefty. Though, he supposed there was eighty years worth of information within its pages. Storm hovered next to him, sparing him a worried glance as he opened the first page. 

Well, any hope that it was another Phantom was quickly dashed as the faded type described you perfectly. From the texture of your hair and the colour of your eyes to the size of your feet and the length of your legs. His heart caught in his throat as he flipped a few pages, hearing Ororo’s gasp of horror next to him.

4th September. 1932 Ex.3 – 12 pm - 9 am. Deprivation / Indulgence Subject 8. “Phantom” / Subject 5. “Solaris” Observer: Doctor R. Kreva.

Removed all objects from Sub.8’s and Sub.5’s observation chambers, and installed flood lighting on all surfaces. Sustain peak lighting in both chambers for 24 hours and record findings. Since 8 and 5 have similar DNA, they have both been selected for this experiment. Their mutations, whilst similar, are opposites. Two sides of the same coin. Will repeat experiment with darkness at a later date. 

Hour 1 – No change in any subjects. Sub.5 seems extremely content with the change of atmosphere, it’s skin emits some kind of glow similar in colour and frequency to the light around. 

Hour 2 – Still no notable changes. Sub.8 raised its head to look around the chamber, perhaps seeking refuge from the light. Only movement in the last two hours.

Hour 5 – Sub.8’s behaviour has become noticeably erratic, its eyes flickering all around the room, has yet to make a move. Sub.5 has remarkably begun creating its own lights, I have included a sketch of my findings below.

Hour 8 – Due to the lack of shadows, Sub.8’s movements have become peculiar. At times, fast and frantic, searching the room for refuge, whereas other times it would be slow and sluggish, barely able to lifts its head to look around. 

Hour 10 – Much the same as Sub.8 in the dark, Sub.5 had disappeared completely. We can only assume, due to the similarity in their DNA, that Sub.5’s body has disintegrated into the light. Sub.8’s vitals are spiking and dipping seemingly randomly. Its body lags when it moves, almost glitching into shadow with every movement. Is this the molecules trying to release?

Hour 17 – Sub.5 has returned, its hair is now elevated above its head and its eyes no longer resemble that of a human’s. Where there should be an iris and pupil, there is now nothing but smouldering light. Sub.8 has begun writhing, parts of its body disintegrating and reforming where it lies. Is it in pain? 

Hour 19 – Sub.8 has started to scream. It’s interesting. With every breath, its entire body shudders as if trying to phase through the fabric of light itself, like Sub.5 can do. Its fingers bleed from frantically clawing at the ground and blood is leaking from its nose. Will need a cleaning crew in hereafter. In contrast, Sub.5 Is now levitating approx. 5 inches from the ground. 

Hour 20 – Sub.8’s condition has rapidly declined in the last hour, its skin seems to have veins of black spiderwebbing across its face, hands and feet. Must make notes to strip both subjects next experiment, but for now I must assume this continues across its body. 

Hour 21 – Sub.8 has ceased all activity and now lies motionless. Vitals have dropped well below human sustainability, heart rate of 20 BPM, and blood pressure of 90/60 mmHg. How is it still alive? Sub.5 has begun wielding the light from its body. It seems as surprised by this as I am. It has been able to form duplicates of itself, objects, and what could be interpreted as a pair of wings. Could Sub.8 be capable of such things?

End of Hour 21 – Leaving the lights on for 24 hours would most likely be the death of Sub.8. With the slow decrease of light intensity, Sub.5 settled back to the floor, its eyes dimming before returning to what we shall now call the default state. Sub.8 remained motionless for another 2 minutes and 42 seconds before their body disintegrated. Interestingly, it couldn’t disappear before the lights were off completely. Saved footage of Sub.8’s disappearance, the infra-red camera pinpointing the moment its body broke apart. Fascinating. Placed them both back into the observation house, and monitored them for the next few days. Sub.5 is already up and around, behaving regularly. Sub.8 still rests in bed. How will this affect its interactions with other subjects?

Ex. Duration: 21 HOURS Ex. Outcome: Success Findings: See above. Memory erased: Last 21 hours Replacement memory: Cooking lesson, NLMO bonding Comments: Must remember to use the same memory for Subjects 2,3,4,6 and 7

Logan felt sick, bile rising in his throat as he blew out a shaky breath, checking the date three times to ensure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Ororo whimpered a small sob next to him, her eyes scanning the page, her hand covering her mouth in utter devastation. Kurt looked between the two of them, not knowing if he wanted to be involved in whatever horrors lay within that folder. 

He couldn’t stop reading, some pages had notes about the life they made you believe you were living, a simulation world with the other seven, not dissimilar to the danger room. Only, every time you ‘went out on an errand’, or ‘went to work’, it was just a replacement memory for when they pulled you out for experimentations. Those were the pages that had shattered his very soul. What they did to you… How could they have been getting away with this for so long?

He continued flicking through, thumbing stacks of pages at a time before he settled on a less faded sheet, dated much more recently. He only read the first line before Ororo looked away, her head in her hands, Kurt bamfing next to her to hold her as she sobbed.

22nd September. 2008 Ex.1,243 6 pm-6:50 pm Pain Tolerance / Resilience Subject 8. “Phantom” Observer: Dr. J. Kreva

It has been noted that Sub.8’s tolerance for pain is exceptionally high. It can easily disappear with surface-level wounds and reappear as good as new. I want to test its durability to its limits and discover how deep we can wound it before we start leaving scars. In order to accomplish this without endangering Sub.8’s life, it will be stripped of clothing and strapped to the operating table and I have given us ten-minute windows. Using the same light-flooded room as Ex.3, a team will be entering the room with various appliances, following the strict instructions of careful harming, before leaving for the lights to be shut off. Sub.8 has been known to fight back, unlike its counterpart Sub.5, and we have lost good people to its unpredictability. So we will be using Sub.5 as a bargaining chip. It has been noted these two have some kind of relationship similar to that we would typically see in siblings. If Sub.8 refuses to cooperate, the team has permission to harm Sub.5 to whatever they deem necessary.

Each ten-minute window will be referred to as a cycle, due to the nature of the lighting we are implementing here. 

Under no circumstances should either Subject be killed.

Cycle 1 – Team TS8 managed to coerce Sub.8 onto the table, strapping it down with efficiency. It has yet to fight back, but it has noticed Sub.5 in the corner. It likely knows the terms already. A small cut has been made on its left arm, with no visible response from Sub.8, however, Sub.5 flinched. Interesting. Team TS8 left the room, lights still on. Nothing to note, Sub.8 disappeared and reappeared with the lightning, with no sign of the small cut. Though it is no longer strapped to the table. I am glad we brought along Sub.5. After seeing its capabilities in the mirrored experiment of Ex.3 (please see Ex.4), Sub.5 will be an excellent bargaining chip to ensure those abilities are not put to use.

Cycle 2 – Team TS8 has already threatened to harm Sub.5 to get Sub.8 to cooperate. Nothing physical yet, only threats. It understood and climbed onto the table itself, allowing itself to be strapped down again. It has said nothing in these moments, simply stared. Due to our already collected knowledge and the two-hour time limit on this experiment, I have had to jump a few levels of pain. I have provided Team TS8 with a conical flask of concentrated hydrochloric acid. It seems the jump was necessary, Sub.8 reacted with subdued screams and desperate tugging on restraints. With the skin tissue of its right calf burned away, I can see its muscular system is almost identical to our own, tendons working in the same way. Though this is no groundbreaking discovery, it is still important to note. Team TS8 left the room along with Sub.5, who seemed reluctant. Sub.8’s breathing is erratic, and it claws at the table in a similar way it did during Ex.3. Does this have any practical benefit or is this simply to ease the pain? It disappears once again along with the lights, a burn scar remains on its leg when it returns.

Cycle 3 – Sub.5 had to be harmed. I didn’t want it to come to this, but Sub.8 wasn’t cooperating as well as I hoped it would. We removed Sub.8 and Team TS8 from the room and turned out the lights. Sub.8 thrashed against restraints as it watched Sub.5 be beaten from behind the door. It agreed to continue swiftly after. Sub.5’s wounds healed as the lights returned. Their bond is a fascinating one, and one I would like to explore further. Sub.8’s Trypanophobia has been noted in its records, having an extreme reaction to the sight of needles. I have provided Team TS8 with various sizes of serrated needles with a diagram of its body. The idea was to see whether Sub.8’s mutation could remove things from its body by disappearing and reforming, or whether obstructions could prevent this. Sub.8 seems panicked by the sight of needles, surely triggering its trypanophobia. Once again it thrashes on the table with each insertion, though it only cried out when pierced in the side of its neck and its inner thigh. Perhaps these are somewhat erogenous zones? Or particularly sensitive places? I will have to make comparisons to Sub.5. Team TS8 left along with Sub.5, who seems to be doing very little to stop the process, though is exhibiting signs of great discomfort. Once again, Sub.8 disappears along with the lights, and interestingly, the needles are left behind on the bed, along with copious amounts of its blood. Not sure the cleanup crew could get those stains out. 

A sob wracked from Storm behind him, though Logan couldn’t find it in himself to tear his eyes away. They exploited your fears and used you to record responses for their sick, twisted gain. He grit his teeth, his jaw threatening to crack as his eyes continue to scan the page. 

Cycle 4 – We have recorded Sub.8’s behaviour on the brink of death in Ex.3, however it was due to lack of shadow. There were no threats necessary to encourage Sub.8 back onto the bed, the needles having been carefully removed. The next stage is incredibly simple. Team TS8 sliced through each radial artery on either side of Sub.8’s wrists. I am not a man easily haunted by much, however I do believe Sub.5’s scream will live in my memory for quite some time. I have made sure to set the cutting of the lights long before Sub.8 has time to bleed out. Sub.5 had to be dragged from the room, however, I can observe Sub.8’s body performing the same motions as it was in Ex.3 around hour 19, however, there is a complete lack of vocal response. Its body keeps attempting to disappear, though it has nothing to dissolve into. It’s fascinating to watch, parts of its limbs shimmering jet black before settling again. It’s like the molecules want to disperse. The lights have dimmed far quicker than the last three times. Sub.8 has not moved from the table. It has not disappeared at all, but it is simply lying in wait. Does it wait to die? Perhaps we underestimated its resolve. I have sent Team TS8 back into the dark room, a knife held against Sub.5’s throat. If it doesn’t dissolve, I have instructed them to make a small incision against Sub.5’s neck. It didn’t need to get that far, Sub.8 saw the consequences and immediately dissolved, though it took far longer for it to return. Perhaps the more severe the wound, the longer it takes to reknit the body back together. Will have to perform further experimentation on this. Two more scars have reformed on either wrist. Interesting. Will need to inspect needle incisions later.

Cycle 5 – It’s dead. I’m certain. Due to the ignorance and fear of man, I have lost one of my most valuable subjects. A terrified guard shot it in the chest several times and burst into the experiment. He didn’t exactly aim for it, but rather for Sub.5. It seems the bond between 5 and 8 ran deeper than even I could comprehend, 8 didn’t think twice about putting itself between the guard, taking several bullets to the chest. Four, to be exact, before he was apprehended. I couldn’t get the lights off fast enough, having to override the system I’d set specifically for this experiment. I wasn’t fast enough, and 8 suffered for it. It’s been here for the last 80 years, and one man ruined everything. Its body is still in the room. I haven’t found the heart to move it yet. Sub.5’s memory of the incident has been erased by Sub.1 once again, and replaced with a severe argument between it and 8, resulting in 8 leaving. I will most likely be dead before I find a subject as valuable for mutant research as Phantom. 

Ex. Duration: 50 MINUTES Ex. Outcome: Failure (subject fatality) Findings: I fear Mutants and Humans can never coexist Memory Erased: Experiment above, Sub.8’s death (for Sub.5 only) Memory Replacement: Severe argument. Comments: A devastating turn of events

Logan swallowed as he reached the bottom of the page. Was that how you escaped? Was that how you got out? They thought you were dead only for you to be able to heal from bullet wounds? Did you slip through the shadows? It took him a moment to think it over. No, that wasn't possible. The dates didn't add up. He turned the page over, seeing further notes scrawled on the back in pen rather than type.

22nd September, Ex.1,243 – Continuation. 1932, 11:42 pm.

The body has disappeared. I have kept the lights off since the incident at 6:50 and made the mistake of closing my eyes for a few minutes. When I opened them again, Sub.8 had disappeared. I sealed the doors immediately, hoping this meant it had somehow found the strength to dissolve back into shadow. Looking into the infrared camera, I have noticed the projectiles of bullets scattered where Sub.8 had fallen. Does this mean it’s recovering? Is it possible for it to recover from four bullet wounds to the centre of its chest? 

12:08 am

Sub.8 has returned. Remarkable. Though there are clear scars on its chest and wrists, it seems to have almost completely healed from the incident. This is a staggering discovery. Will need to alter Sub.5’s memory once again.

Logan dropped the file, pages still spread apart as he took a step back. This couldn’t be real. None of this could be real. What you’d endured, what you’d suffered. The scars that remained. You were right, what you’d said this morning. Mental scars leave the same marks as physical ones. Your body had altered to the memories they’d forced into your mind. They couldn’t remove the scars, so they made you think you’d attempted to take your own life. Made you think you remembered getting into fights as a kid. He knew what mutant experimentation was like. He’d had a firsthand experience. But this was on a whole other level. What the fuck was this all for? 

Now Charles’ words made sense. Some memories were left forgotten. He glanced back to the Professor, who nodded grimly as if to confirm all he’d seen. “My first act as headmaster of this school is to tap into the minds and memories of its students and teachers. Logan, trust me when I say, some things are better left in the past.”

He didn’t know what was right or wrong. Keeping this from you felt wrong but at the same time, you were happy with what you had. Was it already too late? Was that glasses-wearing motherfucker Dr. J. Kreva? How much had he told you? How much did you know?

“They were looking for her, weren’t they?” It was the first phrase he’d spoken since reading the file, pieces of your puzzle clicking into place. Charles simply nodded again. 

“It’s not safe for her to be here anymore. For the students and her. They know where to find her now.”

“Then what to we do?” Ororo asked through heavy sniffles, teary eyes looking between you and the Professor. 

“We take her off grid,” Hank said, setting down his glasses. He’d picked them up to read whatever was in that folder but quickly decided against it after seeing Storm’s reaction.

“But we can’t do that without good reason?” Kurt chimed in, casting worried glances around the room.

“Two years ago, I received signals from an environmental research facility we all believed to have been destroyed in a freak accident seven years prior. I sent Jean and Storm to assess the situation after the explosion, and that’s–”

“That’s where we found her and Jade… Oh my God, that was the site?” Ororo finished, her voice dripping with dread. “But… how did they escape? What happened?”

Charles sighed with resignation. “We don’t know. It would take searching her locked memories and risk pulling them to the surface to answer that question, and that wasn’t a gamble I was going to bet on, not after what I’d glimpsed in the past.”

Logan could barely hear any of this. His ears were ringing, white noise clouding his senses as he just stared at you. Your whole life had been a lie. A jumble of nonsense knitted into your memories by another mutant, reality locked away within the darkest depths of your head. He didn’t know what to do. His urge to protect you from this new threat fought with the urge to protect you from your own past. 

“The decision should be hers.” He interrupted the ongoing conversation, moving to take your hand and press a kiss to the scar on your wrist. “Whether she remembers or not. Explain to her what you said to me, and let her decide.” It was the only course of action he could see. The room fell into silence, all contemplating the suggestion before Charles moved forward to the file on the ground, picking it up and closing it. 

“Wherever you take her, wherever you hide her, take this with you. You can’t tell me where you’re going, and I won’t search for you. The less people who know, the better.” He instructed, and Logan nodded, setting the folder to the side. “When she wakes up, we’ll–”

“When she wakes up, you’ll what?” 

The room had been too caught up in their conversations to notice you stirring from your tranquiliser-induced nap. “You know, I seem to spend a concerning amount of my time unconscious these days.” You sat up slowly, the heel of your palm braced against your forehead as if to help the slight pounding at your temples. 

Logan was at your side in a single stride, his hands cupping the sides of your face delicately, as if holding you any tighter would cause you to break. Your relieved smile when you saw him broke his heart. “Hey Lo’.” 

Though that smile faded as he didn’t return it, his eyes brimming with an emotion your groggy head couldn’t quite place.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He responded, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, and it was as if that was all you needed for your headache to fade. You held one of his palms against your cheek, leaning into his touch.

“How long was I out?”

“Around four hours or so. You feelin’ okay?” Concern. That was the emotion you couldn’t pinpoint a moment ago. Concern and… heartbreak?

“Yeah… ‘m fine. Who died?” You asked, trepidation lacing your tone as you stole glances at the others in the room. Ororo had tears in her eyes, Kurt’s arm still wrapped around her shoulders in comfort. Hank looked more bleak than you’d ever seen him, his hands clasped together as if in mourning. You continued scanning the room, Charles offering you a look of sympathy before your eyes landed on the folder Logan had set down. It was like a trigger had been fired in your brain, hazy memories of before you fell unconscious rushing back to you in one big hurricane.

“Oh.” Was all you could say, and Logan wrapped his arms around your head in response, smoothing gently touches against your hair as you basked in the comfort of his embrace.

“How much do you know?”

[holygroundsound]

A BRIEF EXPLANATION OF ALL THE BUTTONS ON TUMBLR MOBILE FOR MY TWITTER REFUGES :)

i know a lot of fellow former twitter users are a bit confused by this app, so here’s some hopefully helpful tips!

this is what you should see at the bottom of the screen when making a new post

the first button (Aa) lets you change the size of your font into a bigger heading or subheading, or even make your text a cursive or times new roman type font

it also lets you make these bulleted lists! to use it, just tap multiple times until you get the setting you want

tap this button to add links, then just type the site name in the box and hit return. for example: http://heresalink.com

these are where you can add gifs, pictures, and music! for pictures, just tap the icon and select what you want, then you can press and drag to move it around or drag to the trashcan to delete

gifs are very similar to twitter - type in what you want and scroll through the options

GIF by taylorsnationblog

music is also similar. type the song you want and tap on it. podcasts also work!

this button is for polls! tap and add your silly little answers. the duration can be a day or a week

this button lets you make a “cut” in your posts which is basically a “read more” button. got a long post you don’t want cluttering up everyone’s dashes? click here!

lastly, this button lets you set content warnings! specifically this is for “mature content”, but when you click mature you can specify whether its due to drugs/alcohol, violence, or sexual content

this can be helpful to clue people in to potential triggers but PLEASE ALWAYS TAG YOUR SPECIFIC TRIGGERS ANYWAYS.

Other Helpful Tips

“highlight” your text by pressing and selecting like normal to unlock a bunch of cool formatting options including bold, strikethrough, and colors

hitting the three dots next to the post button lets you access a bunch of post settings like queuing posts, scheduling posts, saving drafts, making posts private (PLEASE NOTE: you cannot unprivate posts after, but you can share the link), and choosing who can reblog & who can pay to promote your content

CONGRATS you’re now ready to make better posts like a tumblr pro

[spacebubblehomebase]

My Official Hazbin Hotel Stargazers AU Masterpost!

Or the #HHStargazersAU Checklist + MORE!!!

But before all that, here's the general synopsis:

Charline is introducing her first ever girlfriend, Vaggie, to her circus running dad, Lucius Magne. But unbeknownst to them, Vaggie is hiding a big secret: She's Charlie's guardian angel! Tasked with setting her on the right path towards good, but to make things more complicated, the family's live-in hire, Alastor, is actually a demon that's been trying to tempt Charlie's dad to the opposite side! So how can this unlikely pair keep their respective truths hidden when mysteries start to unfold, how do they play house while also playing tug-of-war for Heaven & Hell, and just HOW did they get in this situation in the first place? Well, one thing's for certain, family dinners will never be boring as feelings unravel and everything grand is yet to be revealed. So tune in~!

Or something like that...

So if this summary seems like your cup of tea and you happen to enjoy both Chaggie & Radioapple content, then hop on aboard! Because, let me tell you, the ride I've prepared is so convoluted, I wish I charge people for it, but it's FREE! Unfortunately, all updates usually depend on my schedule and plans for plot may always change. But this semi-serious story of mine follows a loose "artfic" format anyway. A term I use to mean: I write just as much as I draw. So this is both a fanart and a fanfic AU now basically. But everything for it can be found on Twitter, Insta, or Tumblr. I post just about almost the same things in each, so there's no need to look further for more! Though I won't protest if you ASK for more as in the end, this gigantic AU is just a personal project of mine and any support. Be it a little acknowledgement or a major gift of a comment goes a long way to fuel my motivation! Now that the sappy stuff is out of the way though, here's the links to my story and list of future posts that would be regularly updated anytime I remove or add something new!

Relevant Lore List:

Click title to be redirected to the post and some titles are [Redacted] for the sake of avoiding any spoilers...

-A New Day Will Dawn. ✅

-BONUS Interaction (& Ask). ✅

-Color Palette Reference. ✅

-Say My Name. ✅

-Divorce Aftermath (Ask). ✅

-Meet The Magnes. ✅

-The Stargazers. ✅

-Lore sneak peek. (Ask). ✅️

-Shadow Of His Light.

-His Pride.

-Her Joy.

-Close Calls.

-Surprise.

-The Dreamers.

-Phantom Pains.

-[Redacted] The [Redacted].

-[Redacted] That Day.

-A Cold Day In Hell.

-Prelude Promises.

-The Dancing Devil's Circus.

-Blossoming Feelings.

-False Start.

-The [Redacted, Redacted, Redacted].

-When A [Redacted, Redacted].

-The Last [Redacted] Lament.

-Moth To Her Flame.

-A Taste of Temptation.

-Better Than Never.

-Free Fall.

-HerStory.

-Wake Up Call.

-Seeds Of Doubt.

-Mother Knows Best.

-Fuck You, [Redacted].

-Dad Meet Mom.

-With Tax Benefits.

-Dawn Of A New Day.

-The First Stage.

-Reprise Reveal.

-B.U.S.T.E.D.

-A Third [Redacted].

-The Show Must Go On.

+++++++++++++++

Related Posts:

((Asks are answered in between updates, but due to the amount of them, I unfortunately may still miss some. But rest assured I do read them! I just can't get to everyone. TvT Very much appreciate them though!))

-AU Idea Announcement.

-Magnes Are Humans (Asks).

-AU Name Explanation (Asks).

-Author Is Delulu.

-Excited To Spoil (Asks).

-Human Carmilla Carmine.

-Radioapple Dynamic (Asks).

-Alastor's Eyes (Asks).

-Questions About Lilith (Asks).

-Outdated Sneak Peek (Asks).

-Stimming Radioapple (Asks).

-Cryprid Alastor (Asks).

-Flavor Of The AU (Asks).

-Magne Discussion (Asks).

-Artist With Chaggie (Asks).

-Hug Alastor Request (Asks).

-Vaggie UwU (Asks).

-Yep. Still doing the AU (Asks).

-Alastor's Voodoo (Asks).

-Radio Signals (Asks).

-Masterpost Suggestion (Asks).

-Future Animatic Announcement!

-Dynamics & SPOILERS!!! (Asks).

-BONUS Vaggie's "dad" (Asks).

-Radioapple + Art Advice (Asks).

-ALAKAZAM!!! (Asks).

-Update about updates (Asks).

+++++++++++++++

Other Account Links:

((Just in case you want to experience my story somewhere else you're more comfortable with!))

For Blue Sky Account, click this sentence!

For Instagram Account, click this sentence!

For Old Twitter Account, click this sentence!

((Note: I advice y'all to keep on checking the original masterpost on my page and see if it's updated as it may not show the new changes in reblogs. As for my Twitter, because of certain AI policies approved by an "egocentric piece of shit" billionaire, I moved to BlueSky for my own sanity. I hope you all understand. Thanks for reading!))

-Bubbly💙