#within destruction we rise

[the-microphone-explodes]

Well for one thing, you (or the West for that matter) didn’t create the word genocide, it was coined by a Polish-Jewish lawyer named Raphael Lemkin. In his book, the Axis Rule in Occupied Europe he showed his research of the way the Nazi occupied Europe and narrated how he thought the crimes the Nazi committed against the Polish during their occupation came down to 5 main policies that displayed their will to completely destroy the Polish nation which included:

1) The mass killings of Poles

2) Bringing “serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group”,

3) Planned deterioration of living conditions "calculated to bring about their destruction

4) Implementation of various "measures intended to to prevent births within the group" such as promotion of abortions, burdening pregnant women, etc.

5) Forced transfer of Polish children to German families

He used these instances as proof for the Nazi plan to completely terminate the Polish identity and these markers are still used by the Genocide Convention as proof of genocidal intentions. He also used this word to describe the atrocities that Nazi committed against the Jewish people during the Holocaust. Lemkin also spent the rest of his time advocating for an international convention to stop the rise of “future Hitlers”, and on December 9, 1948 the U.N. authorized the Genocide Convention, which had many of its clauses based on Lemkin’s own research and proposals.

Also this is a very narrow idea of racism and discrimination. Anti-semitism was rampant in American and Western society years before Hitler came into power. I mean in 1942, American literally turned away a boat load of Jewish people seeking refuge. People didn’t look at Jews and think “Oh man they look just like us, so their murders must be important and we have to create a word that describes their condition and the crimes being committed against because we care sooooo much about them”. In reality, most people didn’t really given a shit about all of the Jews being murdered, only when America and the West was being directly threatened by war did they retaliate.

So no, the West didn’t coin the word Genocide to describe the atrocities that Nazi Germany inflicted because the victims looked like them or whatever, the word was created by Polish-Jewish lawyer to describe the oppression that his people were put under.

[j-psilas]

Will we ever get anything quite like Code Geass again?

I don't think it's possible.

Code Geass is Japanese nationalist propaganda disguised as a global political drama, disguised as a military mecha show, disguised as yaoibait, disguised as a teen melodrama, disguised as a high school romcom, disguised as a Pizza Hut commercial...

...except those layers aren't layers at all, but are instead comingled in a giant snake ball of insanity.

The lead writer, Ichirō Ōkouchi, only ever worked as an episode writer for other shows prior to Code Geass, and never took the helm of an anime series ever again. And it shows. [EDIT: Several people have pointed out his other lead writing credits to me. So I misread Wikipedia—sue me. I maintain that this guy is a better episode writer than he is a lead writer.]

The minute-to-minute pacing is impeccable from a mechanical standpoint, with tension and stakes rising to ever-higher peaks, balanced out by the slow simmers of the b-plot and c-plot. It keeps the viewer on the edge of their seat at all times. Meanwhile, the large-scale plot is the most off-the-wall middle school nonsense I've ever seen, continually surprising the viewer by pulling twists too dumb to have ever have been on their radar—and therefore more effective in terms of raw shock value.

"Greenlight it!" was the mantra of this anime's production. It must have been. It has, in no particular order, all of the following:

Character designs from CLAMP, the foremost yaoi/BL group in Japan at the time—for characters who are only queer insofar as they can bait the audience, and only straight insofar as they can be more misogynist to the female cast.

Speaking of the female cast, hoo boy the fanservice. We've all seen anime girls breast boobily, with many cases more egregious than Code Geass, but there's something special about it happening immediately after—or sometimes in the middle of!—scenes of military conflict and ethnic cleansing.

Pizza Hut product placement everywhere, in every conceivable situation. High-speed chases, light slice-of-life scenes, intimate character moments, all of it. Gotta have Pizza Hut.

The anime-only Pizza Hut mascot, Cheese-kun. He wears a fedora.

The most hilarious approximations of European names—which I would love to see more often, frankly. Names like, I dunno, "Count Schnitzelgrübe zi Blanquezzio."

A depiction of China that is wholly removed from any modern reality, with red-and-gold pagodas, ornamental robes, scheming eunuchs, and a brainwashed child empress. There's a character named General Tsao, like the chicken.

Inappropriate free-form jazz in the soundtrack, intruding at the most unexpected times.

A secret cabal not unlike the Illuminati, run by an immortal shota with magic powers, holding influence all across the world, at the highest levels of government. They matter for approximately three episodes.

An unexpected insert scene of a schoolgirl using the corner of a table to masturbate. She's doing it to thoughts of her crush, the princess Euphemia—because she believes Euphemia to be as racist as she herself is, and that gets her off. This interrupts an unrelated scene of our protagonist faction planning their next move, which then resumes as if uninterrupted.

Said schoolgirl, in a fit of hysteria, threatens to detonate a worse-than-nuclear bomb in the middle of her school. She then goes on to develop an even more destructive version of that bomb, and become a war criminal, in a chain of cause-and-effect stemming from the moment she finds out that Euphemia wasn't actually that racist.

A character called "the Earl of Pudding."

A premise that asks us to believe that the name Lelouch is normal enough that he didn't need to change it when he went into hiding as an ordinary civilian. "No, that's not Prince Strimbleford von Vanquish! That's our classmate, Strimbleford Smith."

The collective unconscious, a la Carl Jung, within which the protagonist fights his villainous father for control over the fate of humankind. After this is over, the anime just keeps going for about ten more episodes.

An episode in which a mech tosses a giant pizza.

A gay yandere sleeper agent who can manipulate the perception of time.

Chess being played very badly, even to the untrained eye. Lelouch frequently checkmates his opponent by moving his king. This goes hand-in-hand with the anime's crock of bad chess symbolism.

A fictional drug that can most succinctly be described as "nostalgia heroin."

Roller-skating mecha in knightly armor, and some of the most sickass mecha fight choreography that I've seen.

I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture. This anime is what the average Westerner in 2006 thought anime was, and it was made in a confluence of factors that cannot be replicated. I've never had so much fun watching something that I found so... insulting. Repugnant. Ridiculous. Baffling. I love it sincerely.

Catch me cosplaying Lloyd Asplund at a con sometime, or maybe even the big gay loser himself, Lelouch vi Britannia.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Two personalities that clash, you and your lieutenant rarely get along, but when it comes to light that Lt. Riley has been messing with things behind the scenes of your life, what will happen when you confront him? Is it really hate that makes you stay in the argument the ensues...or is the tension a little too heavy to ignore?

Word Count: 7.5 k

Warnings:

Author's Note: I was planning on having more out this week, but storms here where I live have set me back a bit in getting things out due to power constantly going down. I'm behind, but I promise things are still coming. We have the steamy risking it without protection fic and the angsty Truth or Dare part 6 coming, so stay tuned!

Lt. Riley doesn’t really want to be here, stuck in the middle of the loud, crowded bar right off base on his night off and yet here he is amidst it all. Just wanted to, he will repeat if pushed for an answer as to why he’s come out and a part of him might even mean it, at least that is what he will try to convince himself of because he can’t accept that he knows it’s a lie. 

A strong grip wrapped around his glass from his large hand, he brings his bourbon to his lips as those brown eyes scan the place from within the recesses of his thinner black balaclava that he wears when back in civility. His dark eyes are constantly on the move to disguise their true target, flitting from Soap to Garrick to whoever else is speaking around the small group of tables the taskforce has claimed for the evening only to dart back to one person: you. 

He eyes you across the bar chatting up some bloke with mid length black hair and a prominent neck tattoo, smiling and giggling in what looks to be a lively conversation of shared interests and it makes his blood pressure rise until he can feel the heat in his face. Lucky for him that the mask conceals enough, only being pulled up from time to time for him to take a drink or grab a quick smoke.

For whatever reason you both have never really gotten along with one another, even from day one. There is something about your personalities that just does not mix, a tension that always leads to an argument. Maybe it is the similarities in your natures, maybe it is because you aren’t afraid to speak out where he is more subdued and calculated. Whatever the reason doesn’t matter, whenever you are in proximity it is like trying to force gasoline and fire to coexist in the same place without causing destruction. Sure, you can both be professional in the right setting, force yourselves to work together for a common goal as sergeant and lieutenant and you are good at it, but once the threat is gone and you are back on safe ground, the feud ramps right back up.

So it surprises you when the lieutenant immediately agrees to tag along tonight. He usually isn’t too keen on this type of rowdy fun, preferring quieter company, but over the past couple of months it seems like wherever it is you find yourself he is never too far away. It is a free country and he can do as he damn well please, even though it is obvious the way his stare keeps coming back to you.

He may have everyone else fooled, but not you, no. There is no mistaking the feeling you get whenever his gaze falls on you.

You have noticed it more and more in the past couple of weeks the way that somber glare subtly finds you when you are near. Clearly you are doing something right to piss him off and there is something euphoric about forcing his attention to constantly stick to you. Why not play it up? Maybe you like the idea of making him watch as you finally score. 

You hope it makes him seethe to see you happy.

Those dark eyes stick to you for a couple hours until finally he has caught what he has been waiting for. He follows your form as you get up from your seat and make your way over towards the bathrooms. He can’t stop himself from taking the opportunity and before you have even let the bathroom door shut behind you, the lieutenant is already on his feet and drawing down his mask as he stalks towards the bastard you were just chatting up a second ago with only one goal in mind. 

The same goal he has had for months now anytime you start to get too close to anyone.

Your mystery man has just brought the neck of his beer bottle up and put it to his lips when the shadow from the lieutenant’s large stature casts over the table he is still sitting at. As he looks up he is met with the most intimidating face he has ever seen staring right back at him. The firm stance mixed with the glare in the lieutenant’s eyes within the skull mask gives the man pause and the confidence he once had slips away as he struggles to find his voice.

“Can I help…?” the dark-haired man barely gets out before he is cut off as the lieutenant steps up to him.

“That bird you’re talkin’ to just a moment ago,” Lt. Riley says, his thick British accent deep and viciously harsh from the very first syllable; he’s only got a few minutes to get this done. “Ya best leave ‘er alone if ya know what’s good for ya.”

The man swallows hard trying not to choke as he is caught off-guard by the intense hostility that has seemingly come out of nowhere. “Dude, if she’s with you I’m sorry, I didn’t know. She’s the one that approached me, honest,” he chokes out his apologies, hoping that it will be enough not to get his face bashed in by this hulking specimen of a man. 

Lt. Riley ignores his comment and leans down closer to his face, his stare sharp and cruel as he places a heavy hand on his shoulder. His fingers dig in hard until the man winces. “Don’t let me catch ya talkin’ to ‘er anymore tonight, got it? Cause if I gotta come over again you’re gonna wish I didn’t and by then it’ll be too fuckin’ late for ya. I’ll make sure ta put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Do ya understand?”

Eyes wide in fear, the man slowly nods; there is no need to be told twice, not from a man like this. He knows the type of guys that frequent the bar as the military base is not but a few minutes from here and he isn’t looking to get pulverized by a trained professional. A slight tremble in his hand, the man grabs his beer bottle and takes off into the bar with a worried look on his face. 

Lt. Riley watches as the man hides himself behind a large group standing around the L-shaped bar near the bartender and a smug sense of satisfaction fills him as he heads back to his own table to finish his drink, content that once again he has succeeded in his mission. It’s not even a couple minutes that pass before the corner of his vision catches a familiar figure exiting the bathroom and heading back to the table he had just left from.

You return to your seat only to find your new friend nowhere to be found. Looking around, you second guess yourself that this isn’t where you are supposed to be, but this is your table; your rum and coke is still right where you had left it. You take your seat and pick up your drink; it’s possible that he had just scurried off somewhere and would be back any second. But as the time passes with no man in sight, frustration begins to wash over you as you realize that this shit is happening again.

It’s been months since you’ve been able to have your needs met by something other than your fingers and for some strange reason no matter how good things seem to be going, it ends in you getting ghosted. Why? Even the few times you’ve had encounters on base the guys you had flirted with for days suddenly go cold and avoid you like the plague.

Is there something wrong with me? you question yourself silently. 

Across the way, Lt. Riley downs the last swig of bourbon in his glass, setting it back on the tabletop gently as he situates his mask back down. He doesn’t say a word or offer a goodbye, opting to silently slip out from his seat unnoticed to head outside with a smirk contorting his lips beneath the fabric covering his mouth. 

He has gotten what he wanted…well, not all. There is still something else that eats away at him, a specter at the back of his mind, and even as he convinces himself that he is only doing this to make you mad it still lays there in waiting. 

Back at your empty table, you finish your own drink and are about to call it a night when you spot your potential lover tucked away at the far end of the bar, hunched down in his seat. It’s odd the way he is sitting; it almost looks like he is trying to avoid being spotted, but that can’t be right, can it? Moving your way through the noisy crowd of people, you make it over to him.

“Thought I lost you,” you say cheerfully and watch him choke into his drink. 

He coughs a few times before he is able to get it under control and speak. “Think I’m gonna call it a night,” he says. His response is quick and dismissive as he sets his bottle down and turns to leave, but you are determined to at least get some feedback as none of this is making sense. 

You block his path with your stance and watch as his whole body tenses. “Did something happen? I thought we were having a nice time.”

The man uneasily looks around the area, searching for something that he ends up not being able to find, but that only alleviates some of the tension in his brows. “Look,” he says as he turns his attention back to you, “you’re really nice and all, but I’m not interested in getting my head caved in tonight, okay?”

Your cheerful expression falls. “What are you talking about?” you ask in confusion.

He takes a breath; he needs to get out of this conversation fast. “Some big masked guy came over while you were gone and threatened to put me in the ground if I didn’t leave you alone, so that’s what I’m going to do. Don’t know if he’s your ex or something, but I don’t want any part of that,” he confirms. “So, if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna get out of here before he comes back.”

You want to convince him to stay, that there is nothing going on that he needs to worry about, that it’s just your vindictive lieutenant trying to ruin your night, but the way he is shaken up you know there is no stopping him. All you can do is defeatedly watch him walk away as you say goodbye at any chance you had at getting laid tonight. 

But this encounter isn’t completely useless; with his revelation things begin to add up now. All this time you thought it was you who scared off your potential lovers somehow, that there was something wrong with you that kept driving them away, but no. It is Lt. Riley who is going around threatening people to stay away from you, you are sure of it now.

And that makes you see red. What even is his endgame? Things have always been tense between you two, but this is going too far. You need to find out why and now because this is becoming unbearable. He has messed with your life long enough without your knowledge; tonight it is all going to end. 

You turn your head back over to where the lieutenant had been seated and you spot his glass still sitting on the table. He couldn’t have left that long ago if his empty cup hasn’t even been cleared yet; if you leave right now and hurry, you probably will catch him. Quickly getting the bartender’s attention you pay your tab and immediately head out into the night ready to get your answers.    

Each step makes your heartbeat pound a little faster the closer you get to base. Fueled by the uninhibited state you find yourself in from of the couple of drinks you had, you don’t want the moment to dissipate; you need your anger to power your words so that your lieutenant knows just how far over the line he has crossed. 

You make it back on base and head in the direction of the barracks, passing by the dark offices and other buildings that are seemingly empty for the night. It’s late so there are not many places he can be and soon you can see them come into view. That is when you catch a figure leaning against the brick, the light from a cigarette glowing orange dimly in the shadow and you know you have him.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” you spit the venom-filled words to him as you come to stand at his side, arms crossing tightly across your chest as you stop.

The lieutenant ignores you, keeping his face straight ahead as he brings his cigarette up to his lips, ignoring your presence like you aren’t even there as he takes a long drag. The audacity he has to disregard you completely after all he’s been up to behind your back makes your blood boil over and you react fast. Instantly you reach out and rip the dwindling cig out of his fingers to flick it angrily to the ground; only then does he acknowledge your existence.

“Don’t know what your fuckin’ on ‘bout princess,” he grumbles as he pulls out the pack of smokes from his jeans pocket and takes out another cigarette, placing it in between his lips as he lights it up and takes a few short puffs to get it going. 

Christ, did you fucking hate when he calls you that, all condescending and shit and he knows it too. That’s why he always uses it, just to watch the way it makes your skin prickle and your pulse race as it riles you up…just like it’s doing right now.

Your cheeks are burning red hot with your anger and you know by the feeling alone that it is visible even in the low light. “You know damn well what I’m talking about,” you accuse. “Thought you could ruin my fun and I would just never hear about it, did you? Well, guess what, I did. Guess you didn’t intimidate the guy back at the bar as good as you thought ‘cause he told me all about how you threatened him into staying away from me and now things around here are starting to make sense.”

So, pretty boy talked after all that scaring he had done; fucking hell, he wasn’t planning on being found out tonight. He can’t deal with this right now; he needs to get away before this gets out of hand. “I’m not doin’ this right now,” he mutters as he flicks away his second cigarette and begins to walk off.

You are right on his heels. “Don’t you fucking walk away from me,” you say as you quickly follow him as he takes off inside to a random room not far from the entrance. You barely register anything about the place, only caring about making sure you are on the right side of the door so he can’t lock you out until you’ve said your peace. 

Slamming the door, you press your back up against it. There is nowhere for him to go, not with how you are blocking the exit and it is clear that you won’t be leaving. Goddammit, why tonight? The lieutenant isn’t drunk, but he still has enough liquor running through his veins and he is weary of being alone with you.

You aren’t going to let him be, though; your anger won’t let you. “Well, you got anything to say or are you going to stay silent like a fucking coward?” you ask pointedly.

His fist at his side clenches and unclenches to match his jaw beneath the mask. Gasoline and fire; he can’t stop himself from matching your energy. “Fine, ya wanna know the truth? It was me. You’re distractin’, sergeant,” he says, that heavily accented voice harsh with his assertions. “Throwin’ yourself ‘round like a bloody slag ‘tween the men here and at the bar. Ya like that? Being a cheap piece a meat? Ya think that’s a good look for your rank on this team, hmm?”

You shake your head with a forced incredulous laugh before turning your gaze back to him. The only person who is ever allowed to make decisions about your actions is you; whatever you choose to do or not do isn’t up for debate with any outside party. “What I do on my own time is none of your goddamn business. If I want to screw every member of this operation, I will. If I want to fuck a rando from the bar, so be it. It’s my choice and you need to stay out of it.”

It’s a lie, you have no intention of becoming some barracks bunny, but that doesn’t make the point any less true. There’s nothing wrong with a little companionship from time to time and you aren’t going to let him take that from you. This job is hard enough as it is. Still you can’t shake the question that is floating around in your head.

Why does he care so much to go to all this trouble? Why not just stay away?  

The Lt. peers down his nose at you, those striking amber eyes looking at you through the opening in his balaclava to give him a dangerous appearance as they are cloaked in shadow. Standing in front this beast of a man has left many shaking in their boots, but not you, never you. Fuck him if he thinks this bit of intimidation is going to do anything; it’s not.  

“It is my goddamn business,” he growls. “Ya talk a big fuckin’ game, but ya don’t know what the hell your doin’. Gonna get yourself in trouble one a these days.”

“Oh, so you’re just looking out for me is that it?” you ask. “I don’t need a savior. I can take care of myself, you know.”

Even he can’t deny that you can handle whatever it is that comes your way. He has worked beside you for quite a while now and there is a reason you were selected to this task force in the first place. No, it isn’t his need to protect that causes him to put himself where he doesn’t belong, but he can’t face the truth; he can’t…can he?  

“Besides, what the hell do you care, Lt.?” you spit the question harshly into his face to break him out of his thoughts. “Just like to screw with my life as a part of some goddamn powerplay? You got nothing else better to do than fuck everything up? Pathetic, even for you.”  

The lieutenant’s jaw shifts as his dark eyes are silhouetted within the confines of his mask silently stare back into your own. There is a glint in their depths, a catch of the light that makes them glisten as he locks your vision in that stoic glare.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone there, princess,” he warns as he moves in closer until the tips of your shoes are nearly touching. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, you’re gonna get fuckin’ burned. Ya best quit it now or else.” 

Taking your pointer finger, you lean forward and poke the tip of the digit directly onto his sternum over his t-shirt and push down. “Make me.”

Hearing those two deadly words come from your mouth while being this close with emotions this high makes his brain short-circuit and he scrambles to get control of the thoughts at the back of his mind; no, he can’t let them get out. For a split second you catch a flash of something in his gaze that gives you pause and leaves you with a strange but familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach before it is gone just as fast as it came on. 

Flustered and confused, you don’t notice that his hand has moved from his side until it is wrapped around your wrist as he wrenches yours off his chest and smacks it against the door, pinning it there next to your head. “You’re on thin fuckin’ ice right now,” he threatens as he gets into your face. “Keep it up and see what happens.”

The lieutenant is so close now the sensation from the warm air leaving his mouth is felt against the lower half of your face even through the fabric of his mask. You can smell the bite from the tobacco and liquor as he exhales a weighty, ragged breath. There is a curious tension permeating the space now, filling the area around your bodies until your chest begins to ache with anticipation for something you can’t put into words.

What are you wanting to happen? You aren’t entirely sure you want to admit it, but still there is a growing impatience that makes your limbs tingle as you wait for the moment to break. “You’re not going to do shit,” you scoff. “I haven’t been touched in fucking months and it’s all your fault; you think I care about showing you respect? The way I see it, you have two options: either leave me the fuck alone or I make your life a waking nightmare until you do.”

Why aren’t you shoving him away? Your wrist is still gripped in his fist and yet you haven’t even tried to free it. Sure, your words are ruthless and heated, but you’re still here and he doesn’t understand what is happening. The atmosphere is shifting and he can feel it like a perplexing magnetism, a push and pull that he is finding harder and harder to fight off. He needs you to leave and quickly as he isn’t sure how long he can last under this growing torment.

“Ya best get out, now,” he growls under his breath. “It ain’t a good idea for you to be here anymore.”

His threat does little to make you back down and instead you tilt your head with a cocky smirk on your lips. “Why’s that? Can’t take the fact that someone can actually stand up to you?”

“Not that,” he says curtly.

“Then what?” you push him for the answer.

Lt. Riley stays closemouthed to your question. How the hell is supposed to answer that when your pulse is pounding through your veins and he can count the rapid beats through his palm that is around your wrist?  He can’t do it, he can’t stop the way he craves the feeling of it. 

The silence is heavy and dangerous, too much and you aren’t sure what is going to happen, but you can’t leave with nothing; one of the many questions you have has to get a response at least. “Fine, you don’t want to answer that one I’m not gonna make you, but if you want me to leave you are going to have to give me something. I’ll go back to my original question: why do you care about any of this?”

The lieutenant is suffocating on the strength of the tension shared between you. It’s intoxicating, more than the whiskey he’s consumed tonight. Try as he might, he can’t stop himself from wanting more and suddenly the fingers on his free hand are lightly grazing along the waistband of your jeans in that sliver of space between your shirt and your pants where just a millimeter of skin can connect with his touch. It’s too late for him now; he can’t let you go.

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat at the electricity of the contact. The longer his touch lingers on your body the more disoriented your thoughts become until you aren’t sure what is happening. You desperately want to slap him, shove him off and storm out, but a secret part of you that has started to glow like a tiny ember in your chest quietly begs for him to keep going. 

Why can’t you tell him to stop?

“I can’t let anyone get to ya,” he murmurs with a labored inhale. “Don’t care what it costs.” Those hazel eyes with their blown out pupils never break the connection with yours as his fingers draw a line over your warm, soft skin and suddenly it’s near impossible to pull in enough air to keep you sane.

“Why?” you ask. “Hate to see me enjoying myself? Just want to keep me miserable, is that it?”

Those rough, thick fingers risk a bit more as they slip ever so slightly up so that his palm can rest against the meat of your hip and that’s where he stops. His gaze drifts down just a moment to admire how far his touch has gotten. This is the closest you both have ever been in the time you’ve known each other and it is overwhelming.

A shift in his stance, a half step in closer, his hand still resting against that soft, balmy flesh, and is that the pounding beat of your heart you hear pulsing in your ears? You need him to say something, anything, in hopes that it will break the spell that is making you more delirious by the minute.

“Say it!” you demand as you wrestle with the flood of sensations.

His eyes drift back to your face. “ ‘cause,” he says, that gruff, masculine voice making his words firm, “if I can’t fuckin’ ‘ave ya, then no one can.”

The confession knocks the wind from your lungs and you struggle to intake a breath. This has to be a new game he’s playing at; that’s it, a new tactic to make you lose your shit and destroy you in new ways. There’s no way he is serious, right?  You study his gaze for any sign of deception, for him to crack and mock you for falling for it, but all that meets you is a fervent stare that makes your body burn.

“Fucking bastard,” you snarl as your resolve to break away from him slips silently away.

“Slag,” he responds.

A few seconds drag on into eternity as you stare back into those dark eyes, your heartbeats racing  faster and faster with each labored breath you intake from one another. This isn’t how this is supposed to go, you are supposed to hate each other, but is that really what it is?

You’re the only one who has always treated him like a person, not some monster to be feared. It’s true you fight and bicker and drive each other mad at times, but not once have you ever backed down from him. You’re headstrong and steadfast in yourself and that is something he respects. And more than that, he desires. 

His words, why do they sound so good? If it was anyone else you would have slapped them silly and told them to fuck off, but the way he covets you feels like ecstasy. You enjoyed his attention before and now that you have all of it, it’s all you could ever want. There is an ache in you now that can only be quenched one way and that is from him.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins blurs that thin line between hatred and desire until it no longer exists. As if another is piloting his body he cannot stop. All at once something snaps and before you can fully comprehend the action, he is shoving his body into yours as his hand wraps around your throat. A wall of massive, bulky muscle presses tightly into your curves, pinning you to the surface as he wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips and grabbing your face between his hands, those large, rough things that have more experience holding a weapon than something soft and tender within them, he meets your mouth with an insatiable intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.

Things you’ve both buried deep rise to the surface as the dam breaks wide open, feelings that you both had suppressed under the guise of hatred because you couldn’t…no, you wouldn’t admit that maybe there was something there. It all comes pouring out into the kiss with a feverish urgency as you unsuccessfully scramble to contain them. 

There is no restraining this fire of desire from catching you both ablaze. 

Lt. Riley’s grip is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn as the brunt of his need is forced upon your lips until they sting the harder he presses into you while the stumble along his jaw pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth. The taste of the bourbon that he had been imbibing all night is on his breath, crisp and sharp as it hits your tongue with its bite, but it does nothing to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace and matching it with your own.

You want him tighter against you still and your hands run up the back of his head through the cropped bits of hair that have popped out from below the edge of his pulled up mask. The feeling of your fingers running through the short hairs near his neck as you bear down on his mouth make that hulking military man shudder and you sigh delightedly into him at the reaction. 

Is it really that easy to make that big man fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him.

Strong fingertips jab themselves into your hip so that he can pull your pelvis flush against his while he shoves his boot between your feet to pry your legs apart, widening your stance so that he can fit his bulky thigh between them. The curve of your hip is accentuated by the position and he runs a heavy hand across the length of it as he pushes up against your pussy and you both gasp into each other’s mouths from the feeling.

That instant pressure against that gnawing ache in your clit has you grinding on his thigh. “Christ, Simon,” his name falls from your lips onto his while you cling to his neck to hold your body up as you push down on him as hard as you can to get enough friction through your clothing. He lets you have at it, using his leg however you see fit until you can feel the gathering moisture in the crotch of your panties.

“Do you even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he growls, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tastebuds as he shoves his tongue into your mouth past your lips to meet your own so that they can dance.

He has a taste for you now, a craving that cannot be quenched, an insatiable hunger that eats him alive. And he needs more.

Catching your bottom lip, he sucks it in between his teeth to give it a fierce nip that smarts, but you like the pain; it only makes you feel more alive as the aggressive nature of your attraction makes you feel like you are drowning. 

“Fuck, need it now,” you demand desperately. “Where can we go?”

The question makes him pause and Simon pulls from your mouth to look over his shoulder before returning his attention to you. “Ya know where we are, dontcha?” he teases.

Your eyes drift from him and really look at your surroundings for the first time since you got in here; you are in a bedroom, not just a random room like you thought. There is a small chest of drawers beside a bed not far from where you stand and on top is laying that familiar hard shell skull mask. 

You’re in his room.

“Shut up,” you breathe. “Just fuck me already, bastard.”

“So fuckin’ nasty,” he says with a smirk before he is back on your mouth again.  

Coarse hands desperately paw at your clothes as softer ones claw at his, undoing buttons, pulling off shirts, shoving down pants; a flurry of lips caressing while limbs frantically move until both of you stand bare naked before each other. The last is his mask that he removes himself; he is about to be inside of, there is no need to hide from you anymore.

You barely have time to take in his striking features: that strong jaw accentuated with old, faded scars, that prominent nose, that stern brow, before two strong arms pick you up and carry you the few short steps to his bed, forcing you down and shoving you onto your back so that you are pressed down against the surface as he clambers on top with you. His hands part your legs like warm butter and he keeps them spread as he positions himself on his knees between your thighs.

Quickly he leans over to the short chest of drawers and flings open the bottom most one, reaches inside, and grabs a small, square packet. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger he brings it to his lips and grabs it with his teeth, shredding the top to pull out the rubber. He tosses the packaging to the floor and in one swift motion, slips the condom over the fat tip of his girthy cock and rolls it down the long shaft.

That is it, without another sound he sits back up and clenches his abdominal muscles while his strong fingers hold onto the meat of your hips as he makes sure he is aligned with your entrance. “Ready, princess?” he asks through short, quick breaths.

Your hands grip into his shoulder blades. “Stop fucking talking and get inside me,” you order aggressively. 

The tip of his cock is prodding against your opening and you are panting with anticipation as you wait to feel it break through the threshold. It’s right there, right at the point you need it to be to give you the relief you’ve been seeking after the months of agony during your dry spell. Then all at once Simon’s hips rock forward and the head slips inside, stretching you wide open.

You gasp and buck your hips as he gathers the strength for another thrust to slip it in a little more; you are taking him so well. God, he could not ask for more. One more strong thrust and his cock rips into you deep until he reaches the base, bottoming out with a loud, guttural moan.

“N-nh… ah…” Simon groans as he twitches from the constriction around him. “Fuckin’ hell princess, your so tight…oh, f-fuck.”

Breathing through the intense feeling of being stuffed full you roll your hips into him to send shock waves of ecstasy through his shaft and his head falls forward to hang limply as he attempts to calm himself enough that he doesn’t blow his load right here and now just from that initial contact. 

“Gimme a second,” he growls, but you shake your head. 

“No,” you say, “waited too long for this.”

You will be the death of him and what a fucking sublime death it will be. 

Fine, if you want fast and rough that is what you are going to fucking get. He holds on tight as he begins to pound into you hard, making you bounce with the force of his thrusts up and down as he takes you at this unyielding pace. You are anything but fragile and he uses that to his advantage to be as animalistic as he wants.

The longer he drills his cock into you in that relentless tempo the more lost in the feeling he gets until he is completely ravenous only for the sensation of your body. He has waited so long for this, dreamt endlessly of this, yearned in secret for months for this, and it feels exhilarating to finally have it.

His primal grunts fill the room the harder he gets and you are suddenly swept up in it all as your needs are finally being met. You lose yourself in the moment, whimpering and whining as the euphoria washes over your body to make your limbs tingle. Soon you are so loud that you are surely going to draw unwanted attention. 

Reaching out his fingers find your lips and roughly he pries them apart so he can shove two of those thick digits inside your mouth. “Keep quiet,” he grunts as he continues to thrust. “Don’t need anyone hearin’ us before I’ve finished with ya.”

Getting you quiet, he needs something for himself and he knows just the thing. Leaning down over your body, his hot mouth latches on to the side of your throat just below your ear and you feel the sharp sting as his teeth dig into the supple flesh. The pressure is so hard from the suction of his lips you can almost feel the skin bubble up further into his mouth; there is no question that there will be a big, angry, purple blotch by tomorrow if he keeps at it. A token of who has claimed you.

And he is going to make sure it sticks.

It is a while before he unlatches his mouth and when he does he brings his lips up from your throat to your ear to fill your mind with only his voice as his hand finds the top of your pussy so that his finger can stroke over your clit. You’re gonna come and you’re gonna come hard if he has anything to do with it. “Look at ya, fallin’ apart just for me, princess. God, I wanna fuckin’ ruin ya.”

Simon pulls his fingers out of your mouth so that he can kiss your raw lips, making you swallow all his desperation until you are gasping for air. “I’d do whatever it takes just have ya all to myself,” he says, the words husky in his throat as he groans them into your mouth. “Need ya to belong to me and only me.”

Simon leaves your mouth to sit up higher, taking the pressure off his knees and pulling your body up slightly with him, and that’s when he catches a glimpse of your bodies at the point of their union and fuck is it a beautiful sight. The way he disappears inside of you is mesmerizing and he doesn’t want to look away, but he also needs you to see it. You need to know how both your bodies are made for each other.  

His hand moves to the back of your neck and tilts your face down. “Look at how well your gorgeous body takes me. Do ya think anyone else can give ya this?” 

Your dreamy gaze drifts lower between both of your bodies and stares at Simon’s imposing figure with his chiseled abdominal muscles as they contract and release with each thrust, his hips plowing into you, filling you up completely as each of his thrusts go down to the very base of his shaft. Your mind is in a daze as you feel him hit that sensitive bundle of nerves within you time and again before his shaft reappears covered more and more with your juices over the condom.

There is something so primal about watching his cock slip in and out of your tight body, watching as you slowly fall into oblivion. 

His amber eyes catch yours and he smirks. Your cheeks are flushed bright and it thrills him to know that it is because of how he makes your body feel. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re a picture wrapped ‘round my cock like this,” he groans, his strokes becoming more sloppy as the slapping sounds of your overly wet cunt get louder. 

The longer he thrusts the more his sanity wanes until there is not a single thought left except for the animalistic need to rut into you until he comes. You can see the change wash over his face and through his eyes and it only thrills you more as he becomes a hunter ready to catch his prey; it makes you shiver.

“Ya like the way my cock feels inside ya, dontcha?” he asks in a low growl. “Fillin’ ya full, stretchin’ ya out. Ya think anyone else can give it to ya like this? Ya think anyone else is gonna make ya come as hard as I’m gonna fuckin’ make ya? This pussy is gonna belong ta me after I’m done with it.”

Ragged, broken moans escape your lips while your hips rut up to meet him at the height of each thrust as his voice begins to push you over. Your hands around his shoulders tense and as he strikes into you again your nails dig in, raking across his back in angry red lines that tingle and burn as you drag them down over his muscles. Oh, you are definitely close. 

“Ya gonna come for me, princess?” he teases mercilessly, desperately clinging to you as he too is about to spill and wanting you to go first. “Do it then. Come on my fuckin’ cock.”

The way this beast of a man is wrapped around your body, you are completely at his mercy, his size letting him do with you as he pleases and you have no say whatsoever. And yet here he is furiously pounding into you harder and harder as his fingertip strokes at your clit; he is doing his utmost to get you off even though he could leave you high and dry at any moment. 

Never have you ever wanted someone to take away your power more than you want him to right now.

Your hands leave his body only to gather in the sheets, gripping them so tight you can hear threads popping and feel the strain on your fingers. Each slam of that throbbing cock into you causes the warmth to grow in your stomach, each second that passes the pressure gets stronger and stronger. Finally at long last, you fall completely silent and with a few more desperate thrusts that pressure is released and shoots through you white hot as you come hard and fast.

Simon continues to grind into your pussy through your whimpers as he lets himself go and within a few more seconds he too is falling over that ledge, his torso shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he pumps all that built up frustration into the tip of the condom inside you. His hips buck and are punctuated with deep groans until he has nothing left to release and he slowly comes to a stop, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs to help him catch his breath again.   

You both stay locked that way as you calm yourselves back down from the high, your legs trembling around his waist, the sound of his inhales the only thing to break the quiet that falls over the room. Once he is able to he pulls out and falls down onto the bed beside you. 

Moving onto your side, you look over at him with a smirk. “Well, shit, never would have expected that,” you mutter sleepily.

He turns his head to face you. “Is that right?” he asks in that low, gravely tone that sends a shiver down your spine. “As if you haven’t been flauntin’ yourself to keep my attention. Was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Like you haven’t been undressing me with your eyes for months now,” you push back. “I’ve noticed the way you look at me.”

Reaching out his arm, his fingers lock into your hair, tying it into a ponytail in his grip before he gives it a strong tug. “Yeah well we’re gonna change that. Cause I wanna be the only person ya look at, princess,” he says harshly so you know he means business, “the only one that holds your attention, the only that gets ta be in your ‘ead. I’m gonna be the only one that gets between your legs and no one else; I wanna be the one that knows just how ta make ya fall apart. And any bastard that tries to get in my way is going to fuckin’ get it.”

You chuckle. “Possessive much,” you say snarkily only to receive a solid tug on your hair. 

“Absolutely gonna be selfish with ya,” he returns as he brings your face in closer, ��cause I would rather fuckin’ die than watch anyone else take this away from me.”

Pulling your head to him, Simon licks the smile from his lips before latching onto your mouth one last time. Maybe you two can find common ground after all…can’t be too mad at each other when you’re making each other orgasm.

[cuppajj]

Beast Ancients AU FAQ

I’ve seen a lot of asks in my inbox that are identical to each other, so I decided to put em all in one post and then some. This’ll be updated the more I develop the AU and the more info we get.

As a disclaimer, I am very new to CRK (as of December 2023) and I haven’t gotten to all the game or story modes yet (notably odyssey), so things are definitely bound to change + be elaborated on more! Anyway without further ado:

General

What are the Beast Ancients’ themes?

Vanilla is Penance, Lily is Sovereignty, Dragonberry is Pride, Cacao is Solitude, and Cheese is Conquest. I tried to keep them within the realm of their original meanings

Essentially my philosophy is: Penance is the acknowledgment (truth) that sins such as deceit exist in the world and must be cleansed. Sovereignty is an extreme form of freedom where one can have all the agency they wish, but can be just as silent about their presence/power as well. Pride is a byproduct of passion or sloth, boiling down to the adamancy of the subject. Solitude is a choice made with both resolution and apathy in various degrees, and lastly Conquest promises an abundant future at the cost of untold destruction.

If the ancients are bad, are the beasts good?

No, the old Beasts are still a threat. With a total of ten beasts to worry about, the situation on Earthbread is very dire. However, there is still hope left, and hope can go a long way.

Is there a new set of ancient heroes with soul jams?

No, and there likely won’t be. The Neo Beasts and first Beasts still have their respective soul jam halves, and both want each other’s.

Where’s Gingerbrave and his party?

Likely the Crème Republic, which becomes a refuge for many cookies after the rise of the neo beasts. They’re at the front of the resistance movement, working with Clotted Cream Cookie to plan how the beasts will be taken down.

What do the Neo Beasts think of their past selves?

Generally they see themselves as improved or improving. The only one who doesn’t feel that way is Frigid Cacao, who doesn’t reflect on himself that often.

Did they all corrupt at the same time?

Still working on that part. The timeline for beast ancients is a WIP, but for now, it’s likely that while they didn’t corrupt at once, they corrupted pretty close to one another. Cheese was likely first, followed by Lily. Vanilla was among the last to fall and evidently had it the worst.

Do the Neo Beasts still have kingdoms? How is life like there?

Answered here

What are the cookies of darkness doing?

As of writing (5/31/24) we don’t have a lot of info on the cookies of darkness in beast yeast, but at the very least I can say Dark Enchantress cookie may or may not know about Midnight Lily’s plan to destroy her.

How would legendaries react?

I admittedly don’t know everything about the legendaries to say yet, but they’re all alarmed to some degree. I can flesh them out the more I learn about them

Individual Neo Beast questions under cut!

Saint Vanilla Cookie

How do his powers work?

Answered here

Does he know he’s killing cookies?

Nope, he doesn’t see it as that and it would pain him to. He sees purification as a form of transition or ascension in itself, to put it simply; he might even envy those he turns to stardust, knowing his own tainted soul will be so much harder to liberate.

Why is he constantly crying?

He’s just like that. He’s just that big of an empath.

Has his relationship with Lily changed?

Saint Vanilla still cares very much about Lily, and may even be more open about his feelings towards her; but he admits the only reason why she’s still alive is because she convinced him to leave her for last. Lily very well knows that Vanilla, in his mind, wants to purify her more than anyone else. Vanilla often pities her choice to stew in her tainted soul, but he respects her decision… at least the alternative is that they’ll someday be the only two cookies on Earthbread.

What happened to Black Raisin?

As the very first to witness his rise, she inadvertently became his very first martyr.

Where’s Custard Cookie III?

With his relatives in the Crème Republic, alongside the rest of Gingerbrave’s party. The kid has a hard time wrapping his head around what happened to Pure Vanilla, and it may be a blessing that he’s been largely focused on worrying about the well being of his uncle, Clotted Cream Cookie. As the head of the resistance, he’s been working tirelessly… is this what a king goes through too?

Shadow Milk’s opinion on Saint?

To put it simply, he starts out thinking that a confused Vanilla will be easy to manipulate, but he soon finds out that Saint Vanilla is way smarter and more aware than made out to be. He knows Shadow Milk is with him, and he wants to purge him from his soul; but that is a process that may be harder than anything else. So in the meantime, Shadow Milk can watch as he continues on his path of Penance towards ascension, fighting back the resistance he creates before it can truly harm him. Essentially, Saint Vanilla isn’t trapped with Shadow Milk, Shadow Milk is trapped with Saint Vanilla.

Dragonberry Cookie

Is the skull on her head real?

Yes! It comes from a nondescript monster.

If Pitaya is imprisoned, where is Snapdragon?

With Tarte Tatin and/or Royal Margarine. Dragon City likely got taken over by Dragonberry’s kingdom, but they noped out of there as it happened. The two of them might’ve been the first few to recognize Hollyberry’s spiral into corruption and where it was headed

How is her family doing?

Alright for the most part, but they can feel Dragonberry’s influence in every aspect of their life now. While Royal and Jungleberry are technically still the king and queen, it’s only a figurehead role as Dragonberry is the true ruler. She still cares about her family very much, but she’s controlling and good at keeping them under her thumb. Dragonberry’s granddaughter Princess Cookie is the only one who objects this new way of life, and runs away from the palace.

How would the other dragons react?

The other dragons aren’t canon to CRK so they’re not canon to the au by extension, but just for this question, they’d be different levels of alarmed or concerned save for maybe Longan. I could see Ananas wanting a word with Dragonberry in particular esp since they’re both prideful cookies

Frigid Cacao Cookie

Does he ever go outside?

Very rarely, but it’s usually to observe the licorice sea or meet with the few denizens he has left.

Where is Dark Choco?

Still working on this part (waiting for Apathy pt 2 to come out so I have a better idea), but he’s likely alone by himself. He heard wind of his father’s corruption though and took it less well than he thought he would. Perhaps he’ll run into someone who feels the same?

Is his permafrost truly permanent or can the frozen citizens be thawed?

Technically yes, the permafrost can be thawed, but it’s a meticulous process since Cacao’s ice isn’t normal ice. It’s a cure that Crunchy Chip is looking for to save Caramel Arrow.

How does the licorice sea work for him and how did he come to tame it?

I can’t say how yet outside of the fact that it was a definitely cool and heroic thing for Dark Cacao to do, on the scale of taming the Black and White dragons. The sea, arguably a sentient monster in itself, and all of the creatures within it came to follow Cacao and Cacao only. Now it almost acts like an extension of himself: the beast can make the sea do whatever he wants, like acting as his shield, arms, or barrier, and the licorice horrors will vehemently defend him. There are tons of monsters roaming his frozen kingdom now.

Mystic Flour’s opinion on Cacao?

Working on it, but to some degree she knows Cacao is much stronger than he looks. She might see his apparent apathy for his frozen kingdom with fondness though.

Celestial Cheese Cookie

Is the Golden City still running or did she leave it to die?

It may still be running but in a scaled-down beta form. Cheese learned to accept the fact that what she’d built was entirely fake, but she didn’t move on from regaining what was lost. Her virtual Golden City serves as a blueprint for the kingdom she wants on Earthbread, and then some; with nothing in the barren desert to grow her kingdom, her brightened eyes turn elsewhere towards civilizations that could be brought into the fold. Such is the beginning of the Beast of Conquest’s terror.

She does sometimes visit her golden city, only sometimes. It doesn’t look the same; it’s not a paradise for her to escape to, but it is a promise of what she will have someday. This time, it will be no mirage, and there will be no one to threaten its destruction ever again.

Midnight Lily Cookie

What is her opinion on dark enchantress cookie?

DE is the source of insecurity for Lily, who regards herself as the weakest among all the beasts. Because she’s half of a complete whole, who was already half of another whole, she is passionate about reuniting her souls. While she is focused on expanding the influence of the faerie kingdom, her true goal is to track down Dark Enchantress Cookie and destroy her; but she knows she will need more help than just herself, and has considered asking for help from other vengeful allies.

Does she still guard the silver tree?

Yes, she still fiercely honors Elder Faerie’s wishes.

Have her relationships with the other neo beasts changed?

Ish, most notably her and Celestial Cheese are a little more on speaking terms; but they’re connecting through their potential partnership as Lily hopes she can help her take down Dark Enchantress. In return, she might help her expand her kingdom and take down Burning Spice.

If more FAQs come up, I will make a part two. Thank you for your interest!

[tinalbion]

'𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐧' ||

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x afab!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! Minors, DO NOT interact! Smut with plot, afab!reader, mutant!reader, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, canon typical language, angst, feelings

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 7k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Logan are taken to another timeline that you could possibly help save, but your deep-rooted love for him is the only thing keeping you going anymore, but he doesn't seem to feel that way at all. Could you get Logan to see reason why you're here with him, or will it fall on deaf ears?

As everyone has been inspired by that dang Honda scene from Deadpool and Wolverine, I was as well, and listening to 'Lies' by Trifonic really helped fuel the backstory between Logan and reader here.

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

____________________________________________

You weren’t sure how you ended up in a field, miles away from what you called your home, but the smell of smoke and fire woke you from your aching slumber. Whether it was the distant sounds of the fire crackling or the smell of it finally getting a rise out of you, you weren’t certain, but you wandered in a haze through the burnt grass fields. Your eyes were glued to the remnants of Xavier’s school for gifted people, your kind, mutants. The screams of sadness that wanted to come from deep within were stuck in your throat, your watery eyes stared at the scene as you looked around for any survivors, wondering if there were any. 

As much as it pained you considering how much blood you’ve already lost, you dug for hours and found things you wanted no part in finding, but there was that damn sliver of hope you clung to for whatever reason, and the one man you wished you could find wasn’t here… maybe he was safe. You wandered toward the front entrance of the mansion and fell to the ground, sobbing as you waited for anyone to help, or maybe you waited for a swift death to someone who would grant it to you. There was always the hatred for your kind, mutants, freaks, and there would always be that stupid luck someone would stumble upon you and put you out of your misery. 

But as luck would have it, a slightly buzzed Logan walked up to the entrance, seeing you on the ground sobbing, the flames behind you, and the destruction that lay behind you. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing at first, thinking that maybe the alcohol finally did hit him, especially since it took him ages to even get drunk in the first place. 

“Hey, that you…?” Logan asked gruffly as he stumbled toward you, seeing you coated in crimson.

You looked up, wide eyes filled with tears, and thinking you were seeing ghosts now. “L-Logan?” You asked, shaking. “Oh Gods, you’re alive?” You shot up to your feet and ran to him, stumbling into his broad chest as you sobbed heavily against him. 

He looked past you as one arm lazily wrapped around you, his eyes drinking in the reality he was seeing. “What the hell happened here…?” His voice was low, cracking, and he was unable to control his tone.

“Logan, the humans… they came and destroyed everyone… we thought we’d have it, but… I can’t find anyone alive. Logan… they’re all dead,” you said through sobs.

The world around him stopped and time was nothing to him anymore, the news of their deaths… all of them, it was impossible. There were so many mutant lives and so many powers that were practically unstoppable, and yet you stood here telling him no one survived, save for you. 

“How… how did you live?” He asked, his tone shifting from shocked to what you thought was defensive. 

Your eyes widened and began to shake as you thought he sounded… accusatory. “Logan, I didn’t do this-”

“I never said you did,” he replied quickly, trying to shut that thought down, but the damage was already starting.

“You pretty much did, but if you must know, my power… you know I can’t control it when I’m unconscious…” You said shamefully, rubbing your arm as you stepped back, but he pulled you toward him, his hand firm on your arm.

“Where were you?” You asked him, your eyes stared into his as he suddenly shifted, the entire mood was off, and he turned away from your gaze. “Logan, we called for you… what happened?”

“Don’t,” he said, more of a plead than a warning, “I ain’t accusing you of anything,” he assured you, but you were still so confused and scared, you weren’t sure what to make of everything just yet.

What would you think of him, what would you say when you found out he was too busy getting shitfaced at the bar, and not back at the mansion where he should have been? He seemed uneasy as his grip loosened from your arm, but he didn’t fully let go of you. You were the one part of this life, this world that wasn’t gone, and all he could do was stare at the flaming heap of rubble behind you.

Your relationship with Logan was one of complication, you knew that from the moment you two met, he was just a complicated man. One capable of loving too hard, hurting too strongly, and feeling rage more than anyone possibly could. But you loved him anyway, you just never managed to fully tell him that, even now you couldn’t find yourself muttering the words ‘I love you,’ and you figured you never would. He loved her, and only her. You would never compare in his eyes, and after a long time, you were content with that, because you would still be there for him despite the heartache you felt. 

You often felt the sharp sting of hurt, jealousy, and uselessness because all you could think was ‘I’m not her’, and it would quite possibly be your downfall. And you were still there for him, despite so many others telling you to give up. If you gave up, you’d be no better than those who’d given up on him in his past, and you could never bring yourself to do that. You were dedicated, if anything.

But here and now, as you sobbed against him as your blood slowly soaked back up into your body, gently healing your wounds, you could feel the sadness and the guilt that came with surviving. 

“I was…”

He didn’t have to say it, the smell of the booze on his breath finally hit you and you were disappointed in yourself for not realizing it sooner. You had tried to get him to stop, you really did, but the heartbreak was too much for him to handle, and it’s not like you could have stopped it anyway…

“No, I get it…” You sighed and looked back at the mansion as you pulled away from him, Logan felt the pain within the distance, but he didn’t comment on it. “I’m gonna… go and see what I can find, I don’t know…” You wiped more tears from your eyes and sighed. 

Logan watched as you walked off, back into the flaming rubble, unable to speak his mind, unable to apologize. If he was there, maybe he could have stopped it all, everyone would still be alive, and you’d all be a little happier. That was a lie, he knew that, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t hope. 

That day was the first day it all went even further downhill. 

You remained with Logan, glued to his side even though he remained inside the bar more than any other place, yet you felt you should be there for him even though there was that voice in the back of your mind saying he wasn’t there for you. For them. But what kind of person would you be if you abandoned him? You’d be just like the rest, and you refused to be them, so as much as it pained you to see him drink his life away, you stood by his side. You helped him, and became his caretaker, which was pathetic of you in the first place, but you still loved him, even after all of that. What became of the X-Men, well, all the humans hated you both for it, reminding you each day how much you both fucked up. 

But the day a man walked through that door, a loud-mouthed fool with no signs of shutting the hell up, grabbed Logan from his seat and told him he needed him. You were sitting in the back of the bar, watching Logan as you always had, but you ran to the red-clad man once he held his gun to his head. Logan just smiled and laughed, hoping he’d do it as if it would have mattered.

Right in front of you, Logan begged for death, seeing no real reason to be alive anymore. To say your heart ached was an understatement. The man fell back and as Deadpool was about to reach for him, you kicked his arm away from him, causing the gun to slip right out of his grasp.

“Look here, Angel face, you get mixed up with this and I’ll have to hurt you, I don’t wanna do-”

You kicked him again, this time in the face to shut him up, and he stumbled back, looking surprised, even through the mask. “How dare you! I am trying to save my world and I need that shithead’s help! I don’t have time to fight you.”

“Well you’re taking the ONE person I give a damn about, so you’re gonna have to go through me.”

“Look, whatever little love thing- AHH WHAT THE SHIT?!”

“I said leave him alone,” you warned. 

Your power was coming forth as you held out both your hands, manipulating the iron in his bloodstream, slowly pulling it from his body through his skin. It hurt a LOT but it wouldn’t kill him if you didn’t yank it all out at once.

“Shit STOP it, okay?! Lemme explain!”

You lowered your hands and allowed his blood to remain in his body, he sighed and leaned back into the barstool. “Jesus fuck, woman, give a guy a chance to talk!”

“That’s all you been doing, asshole! Then tried to kidnap my… friend, and I’m not letting him go.”

Deadpool explained what was going on, introduced himself, and said why he needed your Logan from this world, so you took a step back and eyed him curiously. But as soon as this man now known as Deadpool lifted Logan up, your hand grabbed his wrist and you shot him a warning glance. 

“Whatever you’re doing, I’m going with, and that’s not a question.”

“Ooh, and who the hell do you think you are? Rip off Magneto?” He asked with more excitement and playfulness than you expected. 

“That doesn’t matter, but you’re taking my friend, and I’m not letting you leave without me if he’s going, too.”

The bartender glared at you and waved dismissively. “She’s just as pathetic as he is, too, so take her if you’re takin’ the other one,” he sneered. 

You glared back at him and fought the urge to hurt him, but you looked up at Deadpool and continued to hold onto his arm. “Please, I’m not leaving him, and if you need an extra hand, so be it.”

“Well, whatever you say, princess, but try not to get in the way of Peanut’s big moment here, okay? We got a world to save.”

“Sounds fine by me,” you replied, just wanting to be near Logan no matter the cost.

You arrived in another world, or as Wade called it, a timeline, with Logan, but then immediately zapped into a place called the Void, which was already enough of a mindfuck for you to want to be far away from as you could, but you ended up in a small diner as Logan searched for food. Deadpool sat back and ate whatever he could find as you all took a moment to recuperate. You sat away from them both, suited up with your old clothes from your time in the mansion, it felt odd to be wearing it again, but you felt like you had a purpose again, and it seemed that Logan was doing fairly well despite the circumstances.

“Ya know, in my world, you were… you were well-regarded,” Deadpool said, trying to break the silence as per usual, and to try and ease the well-known angry Wolverine. 

“Yeah, well, not in mine,” he said gruffly, taking a drink from the rubbing alcohol bottle in his hand. 

You grimaced at the sight but kept your mouth shut, you were normally quiet so you wouldn’t ruin the moment by talking.  

“Yeah, they don’t like me much,” Deadpool said with a more gentle tone.

“Ya don’t say.”

“I wanted to be something, ya know… Shit, I wanted to be an Avenger.”

“Fuck the Avengers.”

Wade laughed and sighed. “Yeah, I didn’t make the cut though. Same with the X-Men. My girlfriend left me-” 

“You had a girlfriend?” Logan asked, shocked by this revelation.

Deadpool laughed. “Ooh yeah, Vanessa. Had a whole life planned. And I uh, well, I fucked that right up. But YOU, you were an X-Man, THE X-Man. The Wolverine. He’s a hero in my world…” Deadpool looked over at Logan, who sat away from the both of you and angrily stared off into the diner, trying not to listen, but Wade never would shut the hell up. 

“Yeah well, he ain’t shit in mine.” Logan stood up, whipped the can of alcohol into the kitchen area of the diner, then walked outside. 

Deadpool remained seated and looked over at you. “So what’s Wolvie’s problem, anyway?” 

“That’s a long story, Wade, I don’t think I can tell it…” You said softly, looking away from his gaze as you watched Logan from the window.

“You love him or somethin’?” He asked, his voice soft, showing a small moment of vulnerability. “That why you came to babysit pissed off Honey Badger?” 

This made your head turn to him and you looked almost perplexed, how had he known? Was it so obvious, written all over your face? Your cheeks felt warmer as you looked back through the window. “Doesn’t matter, not like he’d love me back. Just here to make sure he doesn’t die. And it’s not like I have shit to go back to, either.”

Wade regarded your answer and figured there wasn’t much to talk about after that, but he stood up and walked toward you, patted your shoulder, and ruffled your hair. “You’re too good for that guy, mutie, wait uh, what is your name?”

“Just call me Failure, everyone else does.”

Deadpool scoffed and shook his head. “Nahhh, you don’t look like one of those. Oh! What abouttttt Jamie Lee, suits you bein’ a babysitter and all-”

This made you scoff and you couldn’t help but shake your head. “Man, Logan is right, you never shut up, do you?” It was said more playfully, but you looked back at Logan, whose back was to you both. 

“Not one god damned bit, now anyway Baby Lee, let’s go and get that grumpy little man for you-”

You groaned and stood up to shove Deadpool out of the way, then walked off to get to him before Wade did, but he was fast. 

“Girlfriend material, comin’ through!” Wade called in a sing-song voice as you stomped toward Logan, who didn’t even turn to greet either of you. The merc walked up beside Logan and leaned on him playfully as you stood a few feet away to give him space. “Your girlfriend is worried about you, Peanut,” he hummed. “And not gonna lie, she puts up a hell of a fight, almost stopped me from yankin’ ya right into my little world-saving problem,” he said teasingly.

“She ain’t my girlfriend,” he grumbled and sulked off. Deadpool bound after him and you followed behind hesitantly. 

“Oh I know, she told me as much, but I dunno Wolvie, the way she almost pulled my blood from my body to save your ass means there’s something there, trust me. Nothing hotter than a dedicated woman who would pull my blood out to save your sorry drunk ass, and if you don’t want her, hell, I hope you consider sharing~”

“Shut the fuck up.” Logan stalked off ahead of you and you both followed after. 

The three of you somehow ended up finding a Deadpool variant, which ended up lending you his Honda Odessy, with which your Deadpool had an issue, but it ended up working out in the end as he trotted off, getting himself lost with yet another Deadpool variant: Dogpool. Logan had no intention of sticking around, so you followed obediently like you always did and figured you’d get to the borderlands and wait for Wade if need be.

The drive in the beginning was quiet and awkward as Logan drove, leaving you to stare out of the window in silence, wondering if you should have said anything to him. It occurred to you that you hadn’t gotten a moment alone with him since being whisked away here, and now that you’d been thinking about it, it was terrifying. 

Logan had been looking over at you every so often as you stared out the window, your eyes seeing the same scenery as you leaned your head against the window. He opened his mouth to speak and stopped several times, and you could feel that he was trying to get your attention. You turned toward him and looked into his eyes, catching his stare, but he pulled away and looked back in the direction he drove in. 

“What is it, Logan?” You asked him softly.

He cleared his throat and sighed. “I just wanna know why you’re here.”

This stung a little, thinking that he’d be better off without you, maybe? You huffed and didn’t meet his gaze. “I came because I felt I had to,” you replied shortly.

“That you had to?” He wanted you to clarify, of course, he did. 

“Yeah, I had to, because I didn’t wanna lose the only person I had left, okay?” You said with a bite to your words. “I didn’t want to hurt more than I already do. And despite you not being able to see it or maybe not caring, you’re all I have left, Logan.”

Logan’s jaw clenched as he listened to you, knowing you were right, you were both hurting and he had shoved your feelings aside to wallow in his own self-pity. He turned back toward the road, his hands gripping the wheel tight as he thought about it, about how you had been there for him all this time, despite the hurt and anger he felt and pushed onto you, there you were, never letting him down when he needed you. Even when he didn’t ask you for a single thing, you were always there, and looking back on it now, it fucking hurt. 

Someone so selfless like you… stuck with someone like him. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. “I’m a fucking idiot,” he muttered to himself. 

“You’re not,” you responded back immediately, always there to combat his self-depreciation. You really were an angel. 

“I am, wanna know why? Because I’m too fucking stupid to see that since day one, you were there, through all of it, through all my bullshit that I put you through… Even before that day…you were there Wade said something at that diner about you almost killing him just because he threatened to take me, and you insisted on going with me despite not knowing what the fuck we were getting ourselves into.”

You shifted in your seat uneasily, wondering what point he was trying to make. “It was nothing-”

“Don’t say that, you can’t just say that after everything you’ve done for me? Why, Star?” 

Star, the nickname he’d given you on your first day in the mansion, knowing very well how to tug at your heartstrings. You sighed as you turned toward him, wondering if now was the time, and there would never be a good time, you figured. “Logan, I don’t-”

“Don’t bullshit me,” he warned with that look, the look you knew too well when he was trying to be intimidating. “I wanna hear it, why are you here?”

“Because I fucking love you, okay?! Despite you loving Jean, loving a woman who didn’t love you back, loving someone so deeply, and having to take her away from you, from your friend Scott. It hurt you so much and you would have never looked at me twice anyway. But I stuck around because you were hurting and I cared, you were so kind to me and helped me even though I know you didn’t want to. You did it anyway. And I grew to love you. 

Then Jean was gone, and maybe I had a shot, but even then I was scared. Then the mansion… everyone died… and you fell further into yourself, Logan. You were so deep into your hurt that I was afraid you’d never come back. And yet, I stayed, what else would I do? Abandon you? Never, I’d hate myself for it. I tortured myself for years for you and I don’t even know why!”

The silence in the Honda only grew beside the gentle sounds of your sniffles, and you tried your best to cover those sounds as well as you stared out the window, wishing he'd just drive as fast as he could so you'd reach your destination and not have to continue this conversation. But to your dismay, the car skidded to a halt, and you both almost flew forward. You spun to look at him, to scold him for driving so carelessly, but the face he gave you was too heartbreaking.  

You hadn’t realized the loud tone in which you spoke, the tears that spilled down your face, or the way Logan was looking at you as if he could have walked off a cliff and would have been better for it.

Logan sighed and shook his head, trying to find the words, only to stumble over them and remain awkwardly silent.  His mouth opened to speak only to close, he was getting nowhere. “Why?” He finally asked. 

“Why what?” you asked with a sigh.

“You just couldn’t love someone who wasn’t a total fuck up, could you? Couldn’t have chosen better for yourself,” he grumbled as he leaned back in the seat, his hands still gripping the steering wheel. 

He looked away and swallowed hard. “Why me?” He asked. “There ain’t shit to love about me, kid, never was.”

“Yet you loved Jean, your love was unwavering despite her loving Scott,” you pointed out. “What does it matter why or who? My heart was yours and that’s that, Logan.”

“I wish I knew why I’d chosen you, but I couldn’t stop it, I tried. So many people saw it, you know, the way I looked at you. They all warned me, they told me not to even think about it. And stupid me, I waited for you! I was stupid enough to think you would realize that she wasn’t going to give you what you wanted and maybe, just maybe… I could.”

He sighed again, not daring to look at you right now so he could think, and the pain within him was welling up faster than ever. He ached for you, for the chances you could’ve had in life, but instead you chose him, the fucking Wolverine. He sat in complete silence, leaving you to sit there, lost in your own thoughts. 

“I’m sorry, forget I said any of this, Logan, I shouldn’t have come here… I’m.. Forget it.” You unclicked your seatbelt and slid from it, then opened the door, which made Logan being to panic. 

He’d sit idly by for too long, this complicated thing you had for him, the complicated mess he shared with Jean… But she wasn’t here anymore, you were, and you always had been. That meant something to him despite him not wanting to admit that. “Star, wait,” he said as he followed you from the car, whipping around to the other side to grab your arm.

You spun to look at him, your eyes red and bloodshot from the crying, and it had been ages since he truly looked at you. He grumbled at the sight of you, how truly tired you looked, and having to see how you looked at him stung. You still had that admiration, very little of it now, but it was there, along with exhaustion and hopelessness. You were a bundle of emotions and he felt it was all his fault. 

“Shit, I… I wish it wasn’t me you cared about, Star, you didn’t deserve any of this shit.”

“And neither did you, Logan,” you replied softly, staring at him with such vulnerability, giving him a soft smile. Your voice was so laced with pain that it almost made the man flinch. 

“You’re so damn stubborn,” he growled in annoyance.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Wonder where I get that from,” I said with a small hint of playfulness. It was a vicious cycle of loving him, hating him, forgiving him. You knew it was wrong and toxic, but you never thought twice about it. 

“I can guess,” he mumbled with a sliver of that old sarcastic Logan shining through. “Listen, I’m… I’m sorry for all the shit I put you through, even the shit I didn’t know about,” he said, which was amazing to hear an apology come from him. “You love a broken old man who couldn’t even be there for his people, his friends, and you’re still here, you’re either just as stupid as I am or…”

“Or hopelessly in love with you,” you said softly, staring at him with tears threatening to fall again. 

Logan clenched his jaw, the gruff badass mask he wore slipping from him, revealing a hint of the same vulnerability you showed him. “You really think I deserve that after all that’s happened? How I dragged you down with me because of my fuck up? I’m not a good man.”

“I don’t care what you think you deserve, you do deserve happiness. Maybe if I wasn’t such a scared child all those years ago, you would have realized it sooner and none of this would have happened,” you explained. “You’ve been through shit not many would live through, and you didn’t deserve any of it, but you deserve to have someone love you without repercussions, without worry.”

Logan couldn’t help but flinch at your impassioned words, the sincerity and conviction in your voice was almost too much for him to bear. He wanted to argue, to protest, but there was a small part of him that knew you were right; that he had been through hell and back, and just maybe he did deserve something better than he thought.

Everyone saw him as an animal, the Wolverine, and he made sure to keep that reputation so no one could ever hurt him. But hurting you wasn’t what he wanted. You were here saying all of this to him, but no matter what happened, there would always be that little voice playing in the back of his mind telling him that someone like him could never have that life or that love.

You finally stepped toward him, ignoring the screaming in your mind as you pushed past that hesitancy, staring into his eyes as he continued to wear that scowl. But the closer you got, the more his features softened. “What you’ve been through Logan, it doesn’t define you, but what you’ve been through has driven you to become the man you are. We all have to live with mistakes we’ve made, and I’m tired of running from the good things, aren’t you?”

He looked down at you and clenched his jaw, staring into your eyes as he searched for anything to say to push you away, to show you he wasn’t deserving of this, but he fell short and remained silent. 

Your hand reached out and didn’t hesitate this time as you placed it on his arm, leaning closer toward him as you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to reach, but you hadn’t expected Logan to greet you halfway. The fear in his eyes spoke volumes but so did his actions, and you couldn’t help but smile as your lips finally met.

The dreams you had of this day were nothing in comparison to the real dead, feeling his facial hair tickle your skin as you pulled him flush against you, your arms wrapped around his neck while your desperation and passion burst through. It started out gentle and sweet, but it grew hungrier while his large arms finally wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him effortlessly. When he pulled away, panting and breathless, you could see the inner turmoil he struggled with, but you’d be there to ground him. His eyes are hooded and glazed over with desire, and fear, but he can’t help but grin at the sight of you smiling up at him.

“You sure you ain’t makin’ a mistake?” He asked.

You just scoffed and pushed him against the car, surprising him with the amount of force you used. “I’ve thought of nothing but you for so long, Logan, I think we’re beyond making mistakes,” you explained as you pulled him back into a kiss. He was like putty in your hands the more you touched him through the outfit, always thinking he looked damn good in yellow and blue. 

Logan couldn’t hide the growing want he felt as he could feel your hands slowly feeling everywhere, but he needed to hold back or else he wasn’t sure what would happen. “You’re drivin’ me to a point I might lose control,” he pointed out, his breath becoming heavier with each finger you skated across his arms. 

“As if I don’t know the consequences,” you laughed and reached up to grab the collar of his suit, pulling him down further against your lips. “But you are wearing a bit too much right now for my taste, Logan,” you whispered, your nose gently touching his.

He was about to question you as to why you were wanting to do this now, but what kind of asshole would he be to push you away again, especially now that you both had this time to yourselves. Instead of pushing this away, he pushed you away from him and threw the back door to the Honda open, ushering you to remove your suit. Without question, you did as he asked and began to strip, watching the way he looked at you as you did so, but you made sure not to take up too much time. If you all made it out of here alive, maybe you could both take things slow for another round…

“Damn,” Logan breathed as he stared at you while you threw your suit off into the front seat, but you were greeted with Logan’s body pushing against yours as you lay pinned beneath him, halfway hanging out of the car. He saw the underwear you had on and his claws immediately came out with a sharp whoosh, but you placed your hand on his arm and shook your head.

“I need to wear these until we get the hell out of here. When we get back, you can shred all the ones I have,” you promised with a grin, and his claws immediately retracted. 

“Good point, but I’ll hold you to that promise,” he warned as his large hands slid up and cupped your breasts through your bra, his grip rough and possessive as he left your body on fire wherever he touched. 

Your heart was pounding as you finally had what you’d always dreamed of, and the sounds that spilled from your lips were melodious to the mutant, he wanted to hear you get louder, so he made sure to work through his unease and make sure you were crying out his name for all to hear in the Void. You bucked your hips upward as his fingers slipped under the hem of your panties, yanking them down without a second thought, and you released a strangled cry once his knuckle gently slid against your clit. You bit your lip, wanting to withhold anything, for now, not wanting Logan to know just how easy it would be to get you to crumble. Any touch he’d graced you with almost made your body tense, feeling lost in anything he’d give you. Even if he were to allow his hands to roam your body without fucking you, you’d probably come just like that. 

Logan picked up on this, smelling your arousal as you lay beneath him, his grip tightening on your hips as he stared at your face, already blissed out and wanton with need. “Fuck, you’re killin’ me, here,” he growled as he lowered his mouth to your belly, kissing it to try and curb the absolute feral need that bubbled within him. The simplest kiss and you moaned out his name, your hips bucking involuntarily at his touch. “Yeah, that’s it, fuckin’ say my name,” he commanded as he shifted above you, feeling his length pushing uncomfortably against his suit. “Fuck.”

He stepped back from you, releasing your body as you groaned from the lack of his touch, but your head snapped up to watch as he began to remove his suit this time. Carefully each piece came off, still wanting to keep the reminder of who he was before everything nice and neat, piling them into the front seat with yours. Logan fished himself from his underwear, revealing what you always thought would be impressive to be much more than that. His head dripped with pre-come as he stepped closer, and all you wanted was for him to be buried inside of you. 

You lick your lips as your mouth waters for him, but now isn’t the time to explore, you need him inside of you before anything else. “Logan, please,” you begged.

“Please what, sweetheart?” His voice was low, husky, dripping with animalistic lust. “You need to use your words.”

You made a face up at him, knowing he was enjoying teasing you like this, now knowing the hold he had on you as you stared up at him. “Logan, c’mon, I need you,” you whined. “Need to feel you so badly…” You pawed at his arms as he crawled on top of you, his snarky grin never once leaving his face. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered low, and it left you in a puddle after hearing that. He smelled the strong scent of desire on you, it was impossible not to, so to get you prepped, he slid two large fingers inside of you, spreading your slick against your folds as you bucked your hips again, wanting more. With each pump of his fingers, your muscles tensed, your walls clenched with need around them as his pace was unwavering to get you ready to take him. 

You couldn’t control the shake that spread in your limbs or the desire that laced the sound of your moans, but you knew that you didn’t want to release yourself on his fingers, as pleasurable as it sounded. You pulled away from his mouth, leaning your forehead on his as you tried to speak. “Logan, please,” you begged again, knowing he was working you up. “I need you inside of me.”

This made a large smirk grow across his face as he slid his fingers out of you, watching as your body twitched from the loss, and he slid those soaked fingers into his mouth. Seeing him cleaning the coat of slick with his tongue was more erotic than you could have imagined, knowing all of the dirty thoughts you had about Logan over the time you’d known and wanted him could never live up to the real thing. His hands ran up your legs, skating across your calves as he yanked your body toward him with a swift pull, his eyes taking in the sight of your body beneath his, smiling when he saw your inner thighs completely dripping with need as his nostrils flared. 

“I’m gonna enjoy this…” he mumbled.

“Not as much as I will,” you said seriously, no playfulness in your tone, but a solid truth. 

Your legs spread for him without question as his hands assisted you, palms on your knees as he spread you far so he could slot himself between you, pushing his throbbing cock against your folds, smiling wide as you gasped and pushed yourself into him, allowing him to coat himself with your need. You no longer had to pretend your fingers were his, spreading you open as he was about to do, the real thing right above you as he guided himself inside. Logan didn’t give you a chance to adjust and instead, he sinks himself deep into your cunt with a hard thrust, knowing he’d get those pretty sounds out of you.

He was right. You cried out his name as your hands grabbed at his arms, trying to cling to something to keep you grounded. “Holy shit,” you said through gritted teeth, already shaking from the sheer force. 

The pace he was was hard and steady, not going too quick to make sure you both got what you wanted from this as his force rocked the car back and forth. Your cries and moans only fed his ego, wanting to give you exactly what you’d been dreaming of, although he figured getting fucked in the back of a car wasn’t exactly your first choice, he wouldn’t deny that it was the best time they’d get in case something did go wrong. One hand was beside your head, holding himself up while the other was gripping hard at the front seat, his fingers digging into the material as he was relentlessly pounding into you.

Your head rolls to the side, wanting to press your lips anywhere against his skin as you kiss his arm over and over, clinging to him while his entire body feels as if it surrounded you. You felt safe in this moment while he split you open, the sting of him stretching you for the first time while the coiling pleasure built within your stomach so quickly. You didn’t notice the shiver your kisses sent up Logan’s spine, but he made sure you knew how you were affecting him.

“You’re so damn tight,” he praised, lowering his mouth to yours for a sloppy, hungry kiss. 

You took his bottom lip between your teeth and teased him, wrapped your legs around him tighter as you arched your back, your body pressing flush against his as you moaned against his lips. The head of his cock is pushing so deep inside of you, bruising that soft spot to oblivion as your head falls back from the kiss, trying to use your words to the best of your abilities.

“Logan, I-I’m gonna come,” you whined as you tried your best to hold onto him, your mind going blank as you could only focus on the building pleasure and the tight wound feeling you felt in your belly. 

“Come then, sweetheart,” he instructed as he pressed his chest against yours, allowing his body to feel closer to you while he leaned his head against your shoulder, taking in your scent. “Need you to show me what I’ve been missin’ out on,” he said with a smirk. 

Your lips peppered his shoulder with kisses as he still mercilessly pounded into you, but the sudden feeling of your teeth sinking into his skin caused the man to let out an feral growl beside your ear as his pace was frantic and unrelenting. Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as you bit down hard as your cunt clenched around his pulsing cock, pulling him as deep as he could manage while you milked him as you came. 

Logan let out another growl, his breath heavy as he mumbled a string of curses beside your ear while his claws sprang out at the same time he’d come inside of you, piercing the back and the front seat of the Honda, one set incredibly close to your head, but you didn’t flinch whatsoever. You were so wrapped up in this, in him, and your high that he allowed you to ride that nothing else in the world mattered. He retracted his claws again as he sat back, kneeling on one leg as the other hung out of the car, and all he could do was stare down at you, his eyes raking over your figure as your chest rose and sank heavily, the little bruising he left across your skin. He matched the smile that you wore, and he almost felt slightly timid under the gaze you shot him, one so filled with adoration and love, feelings he didn’t deserve from someone like you.

He reluctantly pulled from you, getting one more sweet sound from your lips as he stuffed himself back into his underwear, then sat in the backseat and pulled your legs onto his lap. “I hope that was worth the wait,” he mumbled softly as he gently placed his hand on your thigh, feeling the pads of his fingertips glide against the softness.

“Even better, you’ve exceeded expectations,” you said softly followed by a small laugh, your arm placed over your head as you looked up at him. “I hope this means you’ll consider my offer from earlier, you know, when we get back.”

He let out a low sigh and stared at you, trying to read your expression. “You still think this ain’t a mistake?” He asked you, his voice low and deep with a hint of hope. He was afraid to push this any further in case you came to your senses and wanted something better for yourself.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as you pushed yourself up, smiling wide at the man who had your heart for years, your palm resting gently against his cheek. “I meant every word I said today, Logan, and if you still need convincing, I’ll remind you every damn day that I’m not going anywhere. I love you.” You pushed yourself up, nuzzling your face against the crook of his neck, showing him that hint of softness that he deeply craved. 

He sighed as he slipped an arm around you, holding your naked form against him as he relaxed beneath your touch. “Then I guess I have a lot of time to make up for,” he said with a smirk.

You nodded and shot him a similar smile. “Guess you do.”

“Let me start right now,” he purred against your hair, taking in your scent as he pushed you back against the seat, hovering his body above yours. “I’m not wantin’ to stop just yet.”   

[amoona22]

Campaign Title: "Give Amouna a Future: Help a Child Survive Gaza’s War"

In the heart of Gaza, where bombs fall and homes crumble, there is a small story of a child who still finds hope within her, even amidst the darkness. Amouna, a 4-year-old girl, lost her father in an airstrike and now lives with her mother and siblings in a small tent that offers no protection from the war or the cold night. 😥

Amouna knows nothing of life but destruction and the terrifying sound of planes overhead. Yet, she continues to wear a brave smile, finding joy in whatever little playthings she can find in the rubble around her. But now, she needs your help to make sure her story doesn’t continue in this heartbreaking way.🥺

What We Need:

Through this campaign, we aim to raise funds to support Amouna’s family and provide them with essential needs, including:

1) Safe Shelter: Providing alternative housing to replace the tent, either through a safe home or shelter that offers protection from the harsh conditions.🏠

2) Healthcare: Supporting medical treatment for Amouna and her siblings, especially with the rising injuries from the ongoing war.🏥

3) Basic Needs: Providing food, clothing, and blankets, especially as winter approaches.🥶

4) Education and Psychological Support: Helping Amouna regain her childhood through educational and psychological support to overcome the trauma she has endured. 💔📚

Why We Need Your Help:

Amouna and her family are living in extremely difficult conditions, and your contributions will provide them with a lifeline in this critical moment. With every donation, you are helping to bring a smile back to this child’s face, and giving her a chance for a better life, away from fear and devastation.😞

Every donation, no matter how small, makes a difference.

With your support, we can restore hope to these children’s hearts.

Donate now, and let's work together for a brighter future for Amouna and the children of Gaza.❤️❤️

Note: You can donate through the site and share the campaign with your friends and family to support Amouna and the children of Gaza during these difficult times.

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ Fortnight. ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary: Y/N and Mattheo had a deep love for each other, but a misunderstanding led to a fight and a hasty decisions to lead them to different paths.

Warnings: Angst , Angst , and a lot of angst, strong language.

Words: 3.8k

Mattheo and I sat on the plush armchairs, a suffocating silence stretched between us. We hadn't spoken in hours, not since the argument at the Three Broomsticks.

"Just say it, Y/N," Mattheo finally broke the silence, his voice laced with a frustration that mirrored my own.

"Say what?" I challenged, my own voice tight with unshed tears.

"This," he gestured vaguely between us, "whatever this fight is about. Spit it out."

"It's not a fight, Mattheo," I snapped, the words sharper than I intended. "It's… it's your career choice."

He scoffed, a humorless sound that scraped against my raw nerves. "Here we go again. You think I'm going to be some Ministry drone pushing paper?"

"No! That's not what I—"

"Then what is it?" he interrupted, his voice rising. "What is it you want me to do, Y/N? Follow in your father's footsteps and chase Dark wizards for the rest of my life? Is that what makes a good man?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. Where was this coming from? "Mattheo, of course not! It's not about the Ministry or Auror training. It's about…" I faltered, the words catching in my throat.

"About what?" he pressed, his dark brown eyes boring into mine.

"It's about… about you not even considering it," I whispered, the sting of unshed tears burning my eyes.

He seemed to flinch at that, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, a bitter laugh escaped his lips. "So that's it? My dreams and aspirations don't matter because they don't fit your perfect Auror wife mold?"

Anger flared within me, hot and destructive. "Don't be ridiculous! It's not about some 'mold'! It's about… about having a future together. A future where we at least talk about these things, where you consider my feelings."

"Your feelings?" He repeated, a humorless smile twisting his features. "Do you have any idea how this makes me feel, Y/N? Like I'm not good enough for you, like my dreams are somehow lesser than yours!"

“No! That's not…" I began, reaching out to touch his arm, but he pulled away.

"Then what is it, Y/N?" he demanded, his voice tight with held-back emotion. "Do you want me to follow you around like a lost puppy while you explore the world? Is that your idea of a future together?"

"That's not what I meant… you know it's not!"

He took a deep breath, his eyes hardening with a newfound resolve. "Maybe not," he conceded, his voice devoid of warmth. "But maybe that's enough."

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me standing alone, the weight of his unspoken words crushing me. Pride, that stubborn, suffocating thing, kept me rooted to the spot. I should have chased after him, explained myself, begged him to stay.

But the words wouldn't come. We were both too caught up in the sting of hurt, our love momentarily overshadowed by a misunderstanding neither of us had the courage to unravel.

That was the last time I saw him.

The weight of his final words hung heavy, each syllable a tiny hammer blow to my already fractured heart. We were supposed to spend the summer solidifying our plans, weaving our dreams together. Instead, we were left with a tangled mess of unspoken desires and a chasm of wounded pride.

Days bled into weeks, each sunrise a fresh reminder of his absence. I clung to the hope that he'd return, that this was just a lovers' spat, a temporary blip in our otherwise perfect story. I kept expecting to see his familiar silhouette at the window, to hear his knock on the worn wooden door.

Foolishly, I refused to believe that our fight, fueled by misunderstandings and misplaced anger, could be the end.

But the days stretched into agonizing silence. No owl arrived with a heartfelt apology, no apologetic voice graced the other end of the floo network. My phone, a muggle invention I rarely used, remained stubbornly quiet. The silence was deafening, a constant reminder of the gaping hole his absence left in my life.

Finally, the day arrived for my departure to France. Packing was a blur, each item I folded a silent goodbye to the life I'd envisioned with Mattheo. I clung to the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd show up at the station, a last-minute attempt to mend what was broken. But the platform remained empty, save for the bustling crowd of eager travelers.

Did he leave Hogwarts? Where did he go? Desperate for answers, I reached out to his closest friend, Theo. His reply was short: "Ireland. Apprenticeship with some Potions Master."

With a heavy heart, I boarded the train, the rhythmic click-clack of the wheels echoing the beat of my shattered heart.

Five Years Later:

My fingers traced the spine of a well-worn copy of "Advanced Potion-Making." Lost in thought, I barely registered the figure brushing past me until a familiar voice sent a jolt through my system.

"Excuse me," the voice said, polite yet laced with a hint of amusement. "Do you happen to know where they keep their floo powder?"

I turned, my breath catching in my throat. Standing there, looking every bit the accomplished Potions Master, was Mattheo. Five years had passed and he looked even more handsome if that was even possible, but his eyes – those dark brown eyes that still held the power to disarm me – were unmistakable.

For a moment, we were frozen in time, a silent conversation unfolding in the space between us. A thousand unspoken words hung heavy in the air – apologies, explanations, the weight of years spent apart.

"Y/N" He finally spoke, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. 

I managed a shaky nod, surprised at how easily the name slipped past my lips. "Mattheo."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, a hint of the old mischief I remembered. "Auror Y/L/N, I presume? Quite the impressive career you've built for yourself."

"And you," I countered, forcing a lightness into my voice that I didn't quite feel. "Master Alchemist, they say.Congratulations."

He chuckled, a low, melodic sound that echoed in the quiet bookstore. "Exaggerations, but the work keeps me busy."

An awkward silence descended, heavy with unspoken questions. Did he know about France? About the scholarship? Did he ever regret leaving? The urge to blurt it all out, to bridge the chasm of the past five years, warred with the fear of rejection.

He cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "So, floo powder?" he gestured towards the back of the store.

"Right," I stammered, leading the way with a pounding heart. "Second shelf on the left."

As we walked, a million questions danced on my tongue, but before I could voice any of them, he spoke again.

"How are you doing?" he asked, his voice laced with a hesitant.

I lifted my chin, forcing a smile. "I'm doing great," I replied, meeting his gaze head-on. I lied, the words hollow in my mouth.

"I'm glad," he said, a flicker of something crossing his face that I couldn't place.

We reached the shelf and retrieved the floo powder. As I handed it to him, our fingers brushed. A jolt of electricity shot through me, a stark reminder of the connection that still simmered beneath the surface. Both of us pulled our hands away quickly, as if scalded.

"Did you meet someone?" he blurted out, his voice betraying his usual composure.

The question hung in the air, a painful echo of the unresolved past. "I've been focusing on work," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. And I'm trying to move on from you still, I wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come.

"What about you?" I managed, my voice shaky.

A shadow crossed his face. "It's complicated," he said, and my heart shattered. He met someone, and it's complicated with them, while I'm still here, nursing the wounds of a love lost.

I plastered a smile on my face, forcing back the tears threatening to spill over. "It was nice to see you again, Mattheo," I said, trying to sound genuine. And to my surprise, a flicker of pain mirrored mine in his eyes.

"Me too," he replied, his voice rough with emotion.

And with that, he tossed the floo powder into the fireplace, disappearing in a swirl of emerald flames. I stood there, alone amidst the lingering scent of his cologne and the ghosts of a love that might have been, my heart heavy with a renewed ache.

Two years later

The cheers echoed around me, a cacophony of joy and pride. My family and friends beamed, their faces flushed with excitement.

Tonight was the culmination of years of relentless work. I had secured the biggest Auror investment in Ministry history, a project that would revolutionize magical law enforcement. It was a dream come true, a shining testament to everything I'd poured my heart and soul into.

Yet, amidst the celebration, a hollowness resonated within me. The champagne flute felt heavy in my hand, the celebratory clinking of glasses a jarring counterpoint to the deafening silence within. 

Success, once the ultimate goal,tasted like ashes on my tongue.

I excused myself, slipping away to the secluded balcony overlooking the bustling city. The cool night air wrapped around me as I leaned against the railing, gazing at the luminous moon, a silent witness to my fractured happiness. Seven years. It had been seven years since that fateful night, the night a misunderstanding ripped our world apart.

Mattheo. The name echoed in the quiet corners of my mind, a bittersweet melody. I never wanted to break up with him.The memory of that fight remained a vivid scar, a constant reminder of the words left unsaid, the choices I hadn't had the courage to make. Deep down, I knew, with a certainty that transcended time, that I would have chosen him over everything – my career, my dreams.

Two years ago, that unexpected encounter at the bookstore had ripped open the scabbed wound. Seeing him again, alive and breathing, reignited a flicker of hope. But the news of someone else in his life, the complicated entanglement,extinguished it as quickly.

A sob escaped my lips, a tear tracing a warm path down my cheek. The celebratory chatter from inside seemed miles away, a muted echo in a world devoid of sound. The clinking glass in my hand remained untouched, a forgotten symbol of a victory that felt hollow.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring the city lights below. I wasn't crying for the career I built, nor for the recognition I finally received. I was crying for the love lost, for the unspoken words, for the future we could have had. I was crying for the silence that resonated louder than any cheer, a silence filled with the weight of "what ifs" and the haunting melody of a love song forever unfinished.

The move-on drugs they all are temporary.

A loud banging startled me awake. I sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and peered out the window. A moving truck stood parked in the driveway next door, boxes stacked precariously in its open back. A knot of apprehension tightened in my stomach. A new neighbor.

The next day, the evidence of their arrival was clear – vibrant flower pots adorned the previously bare porch. A woman knelt before them, her hands gently adjusting the soil. As I caught her eye, she flashed a warm smile. I returned it, a small flicker of hope igniting within me for a friendly connection.

Before leaving for work the following morning, I saw her outside again.

"Hi there, I'm Gianna," she said, extending a hand. "We just moved in, my husband and I."

I shook her hand, forcing a smile. "Y/N," I replied. "I live right next door. If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."

"That's so kind of you, thanks!" she chirped.

Suddenly, a voice boomed from inside the house. My smile vanished. That voice, deep and familiar, sent a jolt of electricity through me.

"Coming, my love!" Gianna called back, her sweetness radiating even over the distance. "Can you give me a second outside, please?"

A figure emerged from the house, his form momentarily obscured by the doorway. Then, he stepped into the sunlight, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. It was Mattheo.

Everything froze. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, the chirping of birds the only sound breaking the deafening silence. My breath hitched in my throat, caught somewhere between shock and disbelief.

"Mrs. Y/L/N," he finally managed, his voice tight.Then, he glanced towards Gianna, a subtle shift in his expression.

I tried to maintain a veneer of normalcy, but my voice betrayed me. "Mr. Riddle," I replied, the title a barbed wire fence between us.

"We used to go to Hogwarts together," I said, forcing a lightness that felt utterly false. My insides were a churning mess of emotions.

"She's being humble, Mrs. Y/L/N," Mattheo said, his next words a dagger through my heart. "She secured the biggest Auror investment in Ministry history. Quite impressive."

Those words, once a symbol of pride, now hung heavy in the air, a cruel reminder of the chasm that separated us. This was his life now, married, settled. While I, despite my achievements, was still left with the lingering ache of a love lost.

Gianna, blissfully unaware, beamed. "Oh my goodness, that's absolutely fantastic!" Her smile was so genuine, her eyes so kind, that a wave of self-loathing washed over me. Here was a woman radiating warmth and sunshine, and all I felt was a twisted mix of envy and despair.

"Thank you," I croaked, the word scraping against my throat. "I need to get going. It was... lovely to meet you." I forced a smile to her and, managed a small nod towards Mattheo

My legs turned to lead as I walked away, every step a struggle. , refusing to break eye contact for even a fleeting second. The weight of unspoken words hung heavy between us, a poignant reminder of the life we could have had.

As I walked away, my legs felt like lead. I didn't dare look back, afraid of what I might see. Reaching my car, I slumped behind the wheel, tears blurring my vision. The sobs came then, a torrent of grief and jealousy that threatened to drown me.

He was married. To a woman who was everything I wasn't – warm, cheerful, seemingly perfect. My successful career, once a source of immense pride, felt like a hollow trophy in the face of this devastating realization.

Once safely inside my car, parked far away from the house, the dam broke. Tears streamed down my face, hot and relentless. Sobs wracked my body as the full weight of the situation slammed into me. He was married. To an angel, by all appearances. Sweet, kind Gianna, whose happiness felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

The joy of my achievements, once a beacon in the darkness, seemed to dim. All I could see was the life I might have had, the love that slipped through my fingers, all because of a misunderstanding and a misplaced sense of pride.

Daniel had been asking me out for years. A kind, successful Ministry scientist, he was everything one could want on paper. Yet, his invitations always landed on deaf ears. My heart, still clinging to the shattered remnants of a love lost to a misunderstanding, had no room for new beginnings.

He'd been asking me out for years, and in the numb aftermath of seeing Mattheo with his wife, Gianna, I found myself saying yes.

Yes to a date, yes to another date, yes to sleepovers, yes to becoming his girlfriend. Then, in a blur of emotional chaos, yes to becoming his wife. It happened fast, a desperate attempt to fill the gaping hole in my heart.

The white dress felt heavy, suffocating. The lace trimmings brushed against my skin like a constant reminder of the life I wasn't living. Daniel, handsome and successful, stood beside me, beaming with pride. Yet, as the priest declared us husband and wife, I closed my eyes, and the image that filled my mind wasn't his.

The kiss felt like a performance. My lips brushed against Daniel's, a hollow touch that mirrored the emptiness within me. Applause erupted around us, a joyous cacophony that somehow felt distant, muted. My smile was practiced, a mask for the turmoil raging inside.

As congratulations poured in, I felt a tear roll down my cheek, a solitary drop staining the pristine white of my wedding dress. It wasn't a tear of joy, but a tear of grief, a tear for a love lost, a tear for a life that could have been.

Months bled into one another, each day a monotonous echo of the last. Living with Daniel was like existing in a carefully curated museum exhibit – everything pristine, perfectly placed, yet utterly devoid of life. Our interactions had become a practiced dance – polite smiles, small talk about work, and a hollow routine that felt more like obligation than affection.

Even sex with Daniel felt mundane. Today, as he thrust into me, I felt nothing but a desire for it to end so I could finally sleep. His heavy breaths and quick finish only added to the monotony. With one final thrust, he came and collapsed on top of me. I didn't bother faking an orgasm; there was no point. I simply didn't care anymore.

"Do you want me to help you with—" he started to say, but I cut him off.

"No, I'm going to shower," I replied, getting off the bed.

"I promise next time I'll make sure you cum first," he offered.

"Sure, whatever," I responded dismissively.

I couldn't feel anything, not even the pain. Numbness consumed me, and I moved through life like a robot. So, when I received a message about my husband cheating, it didn't even register.

I went to the location mentioned in the message, using my wand to open the door. Inside, I found Daniel with Sandra, one of our colleagues. They were oblivious to my presence, lost in a passionate moment.

He was everything he wasn't with me. His hand caressed her cheek with a tenderness I hadn't seen before. Words spilled from his lips, sweet nothings that he must have forgotten existed in our vocabulary. "I love you, Sandra," he murmured,his voice husky with passion. "It's always been you."

And he made her fucking cum .

As they finished, I stood in the doorway with my arms crossed. Sandra gasped, and Daniel tumbled off the bed when they noticed me. Without giving him a chance to speak, I cut through the tension. "I need a divorce," I said simply, then turned and walked away.

I don't know how long I'd been wandering, aimlessly traversing the deserted park, the night sky a tapestry of uncaring stars. My legs finally gave out, and I sank onto a damp bench, the chill seeping into my bones unnoticed. Tears had become a constant companion, blurring the already indistinct world.

Then, a rustle beside me. I looked up, startled, to see Mattheo perched on the opposite end of the bench. Silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, the dam broke, and the words tumbled out, a torrent of raw pain and frustration.

"He was cheating on me," I confessed, my voice hoarse. "I felt nothing for him, yet I married him anyway. How foolish can one person be?" The bitterness in my voice surprised even me. "I want to strangle him," I added, surprising myself with the dark intensity. "Why would he even marry me if he was in love with her?"

"Y/N," Mattheo said, his voice gentle, "It's not that simple. Sometimes we make choices based on what we think is right, what seems the safest path. We try to play it safe, and sometimes, we live to regret those decisions."

"But it has to stop we need to control it so what Daniel did is unforgivable," he continued, his gaze holding mine. "We've caused enough hurt. We can't keep dragging innocent people into our mess."

I nodded, wiping at the tears that streamed down my face. This wasn't about Daniel anymore. It was about the truth that hung heavy between us, the words I'd buried for years.

"I was going to choose you, Mattheo," I whispered, my voice cracking. "If you had just listened, if you hadn't…” My voice hitched, the pain raw and exposed. "If you hadn't disappeared, I would have told you that France, that any achievement wouldn't have mattered without you."

For the first time in years, I felt a sense of catharsis, a release from the burden I'd carried for so long.

"I know," Mattheo said, sadness etching lines on his face. "That's why I didn't show up. Your dream was so important, and I couldn't take that away from you."

A sob escaped my lips, not for Daniel, but for the life we could have had, the love we'd let slip through our fingers.

"But it wasn't as important as you," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.

The longing in his eyes mirrored my own, a silent acknowledgment of the love that still burned beneath the ashes of time. Yet, a shadow crossed his face, a stark reminder of the reality that lay beyond this stolen moment.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice thick with regret.

"Me too," I replied, the words a bittersweet release.

"I love you, Mattheo. And it’s running my life. I'm leaving after my divorce is finalized. And this time, I'm not coming back."

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, followed by a deep sadness.

"It's selfish to say," he admitted, his voice barely audible, "but you're the love of my life and that will never change,Y/N."

We sat in silence, tears falling freely now, a shared grief for what could have been and the bittersweet acceptance of the present.

Looking at my watch, I realized it was late. "You should go," I said, my voice hoarse. "Don't make her worry."

He nodded slowly, his eyes lingering on mine. "At least," he said, his voice husky, "at least we got to say goodbye properly this time."

"Yes," I croaked, the words a bittersweet echo hanging in the air. "We did."

As he stood up, I took one last look at him, the image forever etched into my memory. Then, with a heavy heart, I watched him disappear back into the darkness, leaving me alone with the ghosts of our past. This wasn't a happy ending, but it was a closure, a bittersweet farewell to a love story that didn’t get the chance to be.

Maybe, in another life, under different circumstances, that wall wouldn't have existed. 

Maybe, in another life, our dreams wouldn't have clashed, and our paths would have intertwined. But this wasn't that life. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[astroeleanor]

Which Type of Witch Are You? (Based on Your Moon & Mercury Sign)˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 💫 ✧˚.🔮⋆

Your Moon Sign can indicate the type of witchcraft you may be naturally attuned to. Unlike your Sun or Rising sign, which respectively govern your purpose and the traits you project–your Moon sign reflects the hidden aspects of your nature, what feels intuitive.

If we really want to get precise, you could also use your Mercury sign to learn more about your magickal blue print, due to Mercury symbolizing energy manipulation (which is CRUCIAL in magick).

In witchcraft, there are intuition and personal resonance playing a huge role, and your Moon sign can reveal the magical practices and elements you’re drawn to instinctively, even if you haven’t explored them directly.

🎃 Also, HALLOWEEN ASTRO READINGS are available! Spooky season calls for spooky readings. Grab yours HERE. ๋࣭ ⭑🕸🦇

🩸 ARIES: Blood Witch

Engaging in a highly intense form of magic, where blood is regarded as a sacred and potent conduit for connecting to one’s spirit or the life force within.

Using blood as a potent conduit for magic (Please Don’t Do This If You Are Not Experienced, It’s Dangerous): Recognizing the deeply binding nature of blood magic, where blood serves as a link to personal power, commitment, an offering. This practice requires caution, respect & experience due to its potential risks and the energies it summons.

Fire Magic, harnessing the transformative and passionate qualities of fire, invoking flames for both protective and manifestation purposes, symbolizing the power of destruction and rebirth.

Using candles for manifestations, to focus intentions. Their flames symbolize the transformation of thoughts and wishes into reality, often chosen in specific colors and dressed with oils or herbs to align with desired outcomes.

Receiving visions while watching flames, gazing into flames as a meditative or divinatory practice, using the flickering patterns to access intuition, receive insights, and stimulate visions.

🍀 TAURUS: Nature Witch

Attuned to the natural world, drawing strength and guidance from the earth and its elements.

Working with the earth's seasonal cycles to shape intentions and actions—planting seeds of intention in spring, manifesting growth and abundance in summer, releasing old patterns in autumn, and resting and reflecting in winter.

Incorporating elements from nature, such as crystals for energy work, stones for grounding, flowers for specific spells, and leaves or branches for protection and connection to earth energies.

Creating herbal infusions for physical and spiritual well-being, selecting plants based on their energetic and medicinal properties, allowing their essence to brew into teas or potions for healing & manifestation.

Focusing on natural healing methods, using plants, roots, and other earth-based ingredients in remedies that align with holistic well-being, harnessing the healing power of nature.

Plant magick by cultivating, caring for plants, understanding their symbolic and energetic meanings, using plants in spells.

✨ GEMINI: Hedge Witch

Exploring the boundaries between the Physical and Spiritual Realms, moving between worlds, bridging the tangible and mystical through rituals, journeying, spiritual exploration, exploring liminal spaces to access guidance.

Writing petitions to manifest, writing as powerful expression of intent, often directed at specific outcomes, spirit guides, or deities, folding and placing petitions in sacred spaces or burning them to release the intention into the universe.

Channeled Writing as means of receiving messages from the spiritual realm, entering a meditative or trance-like state to allow spirit guides/ancestors/deities to communicate insights directly onto paper. (Do NOT do this if you're inexperienced, you may invite unwanted spirits)

Using affirmations as a tool for manifestation, speaking or writing positive statements with conviction to reinforce beliefs & gradually shift reality through focused intention.

Direct communication with Spirit or Deities, cultivating the ability to communicate directly with spirits often through meditation and ritual practices, building relationships with the spiritual realm for protection and support in magical workings.

🌙 CANCER: Lunar Witch

A Witch connected to the moon's energy, cycles, drawing power and guidance from moon phases.

Aligning rituals & intentions with the moon’s phases—setting new intentions with the New Moon, cultivating growth during the Waxing Moon, manifesting with the Full Moon, and releasing or banishing with the Waning Moon.

Water Magic, using moon-charged water in rituals, scrying, or cleansing practices.

Honoring and working with deities associated with the moon, such as Selene, Artemis, or Hecate, calling upon their guidance and protection in rituals/divination.

Embracing the moon’s constant cycle of waxing and waning as a reflection of life’s natural rhythm, learning to move with life’s changes, both growth and release.

Scrying often with water or mirrors to receive intuitive visions or messages, relying on lunar energies to enhance clarity and deepen connections with the spiritual realm.

Ancestor Work, connecting with past generations, honoring their wisdom, seeking their guidance, building a spiritual lineage through ritual remembrance and offerings.

🌞 LEO: Sun Witch

Sun As Your Main Source of Magic, drawing power directly from the sun’s radiant energy, treating it as your primary magical force.

Honouring the Sun’s cycles, observing and aligning with the daily and seasonal cycles of the sun, from sunrise to sunset, solstices, and equinoxes, incorporating these phases into your rituals and magical work.

Using Sun-Charged crystals/bright flowers/solar symbols, selecting vibrant and sun-aligned items like citrine, sunstone, marigolds, and sunflowers: using them to absorb solar energy, intensifying their power for use in spells and altar spaces.

Fire Magic, channeling the sun's element of fire for transformative rituals, passion spells, and dynamic energy work, drawing on the strength that fire symbolizes.

Glamour Magick, utilizing the sun's ability to draw attention, adding a glowing, magnetic aura to yourself through intention and personal energy work.

🌿 VIRGO: Green Witch

Embracing a deep connection to the earth, centering magic around the natural world, plants, ecological cycles, practicing a path rooted in respect for nature’s wisdom.

Herbal remedies, utilizing the healing properties of herbs, studying their uses and applications, crafting tinctures, teas, and salves.

Working closely with nature, building a bond with the natural environment, from understanding plant cycles to observing seasonal shifts, nature walks, gardening.

Creating natural infusions or blends using flowers, herbs, and oils, allowing them to steep and transform into infusions that carry specific properties.

Embodying the role of the healer, using knowledge of nature’s offerings to bring balance & wellness to oneself and others.

Being Consistent in Your Practice, understanding that consistency strengthens connection and proficiency in magical and herbal skills.

Making oils infused with healing herbs, carefully selected and prepared to promote wellness, relaxation, energy cleansing, used in anointing, massage, or aromatherapy.

Planting seeds as symbols of growth, engaging in ritual planting as a tangible representation of intentions and personal growth, nurturing seeds as they develop and reflect inner transformation.

💗 LIBRA: Love Witch

A focus on balance, relationships, beauty, connection, fairness & love.

Centering magic around attraction, romance, self-love, emotional harmony, using spells and rituals to cultivate love in all forms.

Crafting love spells with intention, using herbs, crystals, candles, or written petitions to attract new love, deepen existing connections, or foster a deeper sense of self-love/self-acceptance.

Glamour Magic to enhance personal magnetism, using intention, visualization, or enchanted makeup/skincare products to project confidence.

Performing cord cutting spells to release unhealthy attachments, heal from past relationships, severing energetic ties and regain personal freedom.

🌑 SCORPIO: Shadow Witch

Working with the hidden, misunderstood aspects of the self, finding power in exploring and integrating the shadows within.

Shadow Work as a conduit for magick/power, diving into shadow work to confront and understand inner fears, traumas, unacknowledged aspects, using this introspective process as a source of personal growth.

Divination, tools like tarot, scrying, pendulums, runes.

Alchemizing your fears into empowerment, transforming fear/doubt/pain into sources of wisdom, turning challenging emotions into empowering forces that deepen your magic and connection to self.

Performing cleansing and grounding rituals to release stagnant or heavy energies accumulated, creating space for healing.

Using tarot cards as a tool for self-reflection, tapping into the imagery and messages within each card to navigate the depths of shadow work and to connect with personal intuition and wisdom.

🌪️ SAGITTARIUS: Eclectic Witch

Embracing a path that allows freedom and flexibility in magical practice, drawing from various traditions, tools, and sources to create a personal, diverse form of witchcraft.

Blending different traditions or tools into something that is “Uniquely Yours”, combining elements from multiple magical or spiritual traditions, incorporating rituals, symbols, deities, or practices that resonate personally.

Trying out various forms of magic, from herbology and crystal work to sigil crafting or divination, exploring different spells, charms, and rituals to find what aligns best with your intentions and energy.

🕯️CAPRICORN: Ceremonial Witch

Ceremonial Magic, practicing a highly organized and formal approach to magic, where each element is intentionally designed and executed to connect with specific energies or spiritual forces.

Conducting rituals with a detailed plan & defined structure, adhering to traditional sequences, symbols, aligning with ceremonial magic principles.

Following spells “by the book”, committing to spells and rituals as they are traditionally prescribed, respecting established methods to preserve the power and intent of each spell, honoring the teachings and foundations of ceremonial practices.

Crafting a ceremony with intention and purpose:, designing each ceremony with clear goals/symbolism/meaning, focusing on the purpose behind every word, gesture, and item used.

Channeling and directing energy with precision, harnessing energy with a focused, deliberate intent, directing it precisely toward a specific goal or outcome, using tools like wands, staffs, symbols to refine and amplify the energy flow.

⭐ AQUARIUS: Cosmic Witch

An innovative approach to magic, seeking universal connection and understanding through celestial energies.

Using astrological knowledge as a guiding framework in rituals, spellwork, aligning your personal practice with planetary transits, moon phases, astrological placements to amplify intentions.

Planetary Magic, connecting with the energies of individual planets, each symbolizing different aspects of life and self, invoking their powers to enhance specific goals (love, protection, wisdom, finances, career, or transformation)

Aligning with the Zodiac Seasons, adapting magickal workings to align with the qualities and energy shifts of each zodiac season, embracing the energy that each Zodiac season offers to enhance magical practice.

Looking to your birth chart and planetary alignments as a roadmap for self-growth, using this guidance to navigate life choices or make decisions that support your personal evolution.

🔮 PISCES: Divination Witch

Being drawn toward practices that reveal hidden knowledge or spiritual insights.

Using tarot as a central tool in divination, tapping into its symbolism to decode messages from the subconscious or guides, approaching readings with an intuitive style.

Dream work to uncover subconscious messages, keeping a dream journal, analyzing symbols, and even practicing lucid dreaming as a means of accessing deeper understanding.

Exploring past life connections through meditation, regression, gaining insight into karmic patterns to guide current life decisions.

Focusing on honing intuitive abilities through meditation and regular divination practice, trusting instinct and inner guidance as a compass for magical work and everyday life.

Water Magic, engaging with the element of water in spells and rituals, scrying with bowls of water, incorporating moon-charged water in cleansing rituals, channeling water’s flow and fluidity for emotional healing and psychic connection.

Trying various divination techniques, such as crystal scrying, pendulum dowsing, tea leaf reading, runes, etc.

.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆

Thank you for taking the time to read my post! Your curiosity & engagement mean the world to me. I hope you not only found it enjoyable but also enriching for your astrological knowledge. Your support & interest inspire me to continue sharing insights & information with you. I appreciate you immensely. • 🕸️ JOIN MY PATREON for exquisite & in-depth astrology content. You'll also receive a free mini reading upon joining. :)

.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆.˚⊹.🎃₊˚𖦹⋆

[venussaidso]

𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫-𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐭.

Kathryn Merteuil from Cruel Intentions is portrayed by Ketu natives. Sarah Michelle Gellar, Amy Adams, and now Sarah Catherine Hook.

Characters that I randomly thought would be Kathryn Merteuil's daughters, just so happen to be played by Ketuvians; particularly known for having manipulative, cunning, power-driven personalities.

This relentless pursuit for power and control extends to other Ketu characters. I have explored this theme already in my Ketu Dominant Themes post, I just didn't use female characters as my examples.

Cersei Lannister is an extreme version of this archetype, set in this non-modern, brutal world in Game of Thrones, known for her psychopathy.

Being extremely ruthless and cunning, with a thirst for power and control and an unchecked ambition, it doesn't come as a surprise that she is portrayed by a fire sign native Lena Headey (Venus nakshatras share these themes, as well).

Reminded me of Cate Blanchett's character from Cinderella, Lady Tremaine, who has a desire for control and maintaining power. She is absolutely heartless and cruel.

The same actress also played Hela who driven by power, is absolutely cunning and even more ruthless, possessing this superiority complex.

Having this deep desire to dominate and conquer, it comes as no surprise that the actress has an Aries stellium; proving it true that the rashi comes first, as the signs alone can be known for these negative, power-seeking traits. These fiery traits in the Ketu section are specifically exaggerated. The Ketu rulership seems to not only exaggerate the traits of the fire rashis, but darken them too. Technically; Ashwini is Dark!Aries, Magha is basically Dark!Leo and Mula is just Dark!Sagittarius lmaoo.

Just shortly describing Hela's Ashwini traits, I thought of Azula, who is voiced by Magha Sun Grey DeLisle.

Having a fiery determination and borderline exaggerated Leo traits; much like Hela, she is obsessed with being domineering. Known for being cunning, extremely ruthless and driven by power and control.

Another Hela-type character is the formidable antagonist, Artemisia, played by double Ketu native Eva Green in 300: Rise of an Empire.

Similar to Azula, she is driven by vengeance and is relentless about it. She is extremely strategic and power-hungry, seeking dominance over others and causing destruction.

Both Magha ASC Eva Green and Magha Moon Katie McGrath played the character Morgana, though with different arcs.

Eva Green's version of the character is more overtly power-driven and manipulative, as she has a double whammy effect of the Ketu nakshatras. While Katie McGrath's portrayal is her journey to villainy as she grows a thirst for vengeance and power, becoming a formidable force in the series.

Madison Montgomery from AHS: Coven! Played by Mula native Emma Roberts, she is undeniably ruthless and chaotic.

She seeks power & status in the witch world, being cunning, mean-spirited and manipulative.

In the same season, AHS: Coven, we also have the ruthless and powerful, vengeful witch Marie Laveau played by Magha Sun Angela Bassett. She means to assert her place in the world, embodying LEGACY (Magha nakshatra nod, much like Azula who strongly represents legacy and her ancestors).

And alongside her is Ashwini native Jessica Lange playing Fiona Goode, another ruthless, cunning Ketuvian/Fire sign character obsessed with power, youth and maintaining superiority over others.

Speaking of power-hungry witches; Ashwini Moon native Kathryn Hahn plays Agatha Harkness, who has a lust for power and control, finding herself completely fixated on Scarlet Witch's powers and wanting to gain control over such an immense force to master it within herself.

Magha Moon Helena Bonham Carter played the Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland, the character having a very fiery temper and an obsession with control. The Leo characteristics being exaggerated by the nodal rulership, she has an oversized ego and an extreme sense of self-importance, ready to inflict punishment on those who slight her.

A far lighter, less sinister, version of this Ketu archetype, is the Evil Queen in Mirror Mirror, played by Magha Moon Julia Roberts.

She still fits this highly manipulative, power-hungry archetype, her motivations rooted in status and control over the kingdom.

These characters thriving on power and control speaks to the emptiness and wounds they hold within. People who naturally possess power do not seek it, yet it seems to be a theme for these Ketuvians to be hungry for it. As if there's a beast inside of them that wants to suck things in and conquer, which makes sense for the Ketu x Jupiter polarity as Jupiter has excess to give out and Ketu wants to possess it (as I've talked about Ketu constantly absorbing things & people intentionally or not). The more cunning portrayals show how these characters live through their domineering force, deliberately using it to pull things under their control; ready to combat any outside forces that mean to take away their status and things that signify power to them. This combativeness is specifically shown in Ashwini Moon Blair Waldolf who becomes very combative when threatened. I believe people forget that Ketu alone is different from Ketu nakshatras. The fire signs will always remind you that they're fire signs, that's why observations like "Ketu nakshatra people have zero ambition and only seek spirituality and they represent nothing" is a completely one-sided statement and a disregard to how the houses and signs ruling these nakshatras operate. If this observation were the case, then I wonder what the Ketu gold-digging archetype implies if not everything I talked about.

[nopanamaman]

What’s up with the City?

Loredump. September 2023

What do we really know about the City the characters inhabit? Aside from it being located right next to the Zone, not much. And to be fair, the song series format doesn’t leave a lot of room for exploration.

But it’s an interesting place in its own right. Today we’ll learn a little bit about its history, life, and how being right next to the strangest area of the planet has affected the lives of its 400,000 inhabitants. Let’s dive right in.

View of the City’s edge in winter. Unexciting.

Where is the City located?

The City has no concrete location: it can be placed on almost any territory within Russia, Belarus, or Ukraine. Despite a lot of the realia and places within it being drawn from my own lifetime in Minsk, it’s not meant to represent it specifically.

The City is part of a larger totalitarian state. Housing hundreds of thousands of citizens, it used to be the largest settlement in the vicinity of ЦКР-5 (TsKR-5), a closed town declassified after its own destruction and the emergence of the Zone.

Closed city TsKR-5. In reality, the military town Knyaze-Volkonskoye

Who lives in the City?

The City is mostly inhabited by people of various slavic nationalities. The main spoken language is Russian, though there are folks who know and communicate in other slavic languages. The government treats those who do so with suspicion, so it’s not common practice.

Smoke above the City. In reality, Nekrasovka, Moscow

The majority of people living on the periphery of the town are employed in factories. A significant industrial centre before the Zone’s emergence, it remains a stable producer of vehicles, electronics, and environmental waste.

However, the proximity to the Zone and the massive research centre have attracted a lot of scientific talent and entrepreneurs to the place. The latter usually choose banditism or smuggling as their business model. Unsurprisingly, the crime rate is high.

Most of the population, adult and child alike, has had some contact with gangs. It’s not uncommon for kids to actively want to go into banditism, as it’s seen as one of the few avenues for achieving some sort of financial stability.

How is the City affected by anomalies?

The City is no stranger to bizarre meteorological, metaphysical, and otherwise logic-defying events. One day it can rain tar. Another day the air will smell a little sweet. Another day a dead pet will rise from its grave. Another day a street will distort, then go back to normal. Another day everyone born on May 11th will cough up ammonia.

Sky anomaly. In reality, a mirage above Jiangxi

There are at least a dozen anomalous events every year. It’s generally believed they occur because of precipitation, affected particles and/or artefacts travelling outside of the Zone, as well as City dwellers unknowingly ingesting anomalous particles into their bodies.

Few environmental anomalies outside the Zone are permanent or dangerous, but some do require containment. On paper, public access to any life-threatening anomaly needs to be cut off as soon as it becomes known. In practice, places deemed dangerous often get little more than a police ribbon and a couple of warning signs around them.

What are some restricted anomalous areas within the City?

The Lazurny (Azure) Pool

The most notable one in the context of PAFL itself is the pool KT inhabited during her two weeks on the run. Abandoned, but neither guarded nor fenced off, the building had all its entrances and windows welded shut and left at that.

Mosaic by the main pool

The reason for its closure was the main pool’s basin becoming what one could only call a bottomless pit. Its water cannot be drained or pumped out, and everything alive entering it disappears underneath, never to be seen again. Only pieces of plywood, garbage, sports and research equipment now float atop the surface.

The Anomalous Forest

As far as less relevant places are concerned, the workshop Ivan and Arthur work at overlooks a large restricted area just on the edge of town. It’s part of a bigger forest that fell victim to the local wind rose: a lot of clouds coming from the Zone have rained various suspicious liquids on it.

As a result, the treeline became ridiculously uneven, with some parts looking lush with greenery, some being inappropriately naked, some standing pale and sickly, and some even emanating a faint glow come nightfall. There is little official information about the dangers of local flora and fauna, but more than enough urban legends. Though, most seem to agree that eating anything from the pale zone results in awful diarrhoea.

Affected trees. In reality, the Drunken Forest in the Curonian Spit

A popular theory for why such areas are never cleared or properly restricted (aside from money pocketing) is that the facility uses them for resources.

For instance, a pine tree whose needles cause people to develop tumours can be a valuable asset for various research, medical or otherwise. Or take a small stretch of an impossibly warped landscape – that one can be a great place to test the physical attributes of anomalous objects. Would be a waste to make those things nearly impossible to access, no?

What about the artefact trade?

As was stated multiple times before, unregistered possession of anomalous artefacts is strictly against the law. The only exceptions are the anomalous souvenirs produced and sold in the Facility and shops around the city (small floating toys, balls of glowsmoke, standing needles).

Sorting of artefacts (batteries) in False Disposition

Actual artefacts are acquired and sold illegally by stalkers. They are usually traded to either gangs, police, or government officials who, in turn, resell them to faraway regions or abroad, where they go for an even higher price.

This is a large part of why crime continues to flourish in the City: the underground trade is simply too profitable for everyone involved, including those who are supposed to fight against it.

Where do the main characters live?

All of our main characters live on the edge of town, in an area that’s relatively close to the Facility located just outside of the City. The rough map of the main locations would look something like this:

Approximate map of the area. Apartment blocks sure look crazy from above

Yura and Sanya live about 15 minutes away from each other with Sanya’s house, in turn, being a 10-15 minute walk away from the Molodzyozhny club. Following the road South from Molodzyozhny will lead you to the orphanage, Ivan’s house, and his dad’s workshop overlooking the anomalous forest.

Following the same road North will have you pass by Nikita’s house and eventually lead to Olya’s – though, she lives relatively far, being around 35 minutes away from Sanya’s place by foot. Yana lives even farther, in the city centre way to the West.

Going to the East will lead you to a more forested area. That’s where the abandoned Lazurny pool is located. It’s also where buses and railroads travel through to get to the Facility located right on the border of the City and the Zone.

The estacade in False Disposition

The estacade where Sanya catches up with Yura in False Disposition and, subsequently, the meeting spot with Olya and Nikita are also located off the little map (sorry): they're to the East of the orphanage, next to the train tracks.

The road to both the Facility and the Zone has plenty of buildings on the way (industrial and otherwise), but getting to the border checkpoint by foot from, say, Yura’s house would take at least an hour and a half. It’s not somewhere you wander to by accident.

[all-things-are-nothing-to-me]

Left to right. First row.

1. The Faggots and Their Friends Between Revolutions by Larry Mitchell.

In a joyous and perverse intermingling of fable, myth, heterotopian vision, and pocket wisdom, The Faggots & Their Friends tell us stories of the 70s gay countercultures and offer us strategies and wisdom for our own time living Between Revolutions. These pages sketch a different shape to time and offer instructions for living within it. This story, like our own, plays out in liminal time. Not the time of revolution, and not after-the-revolution, the story occurs between revolutions. Being between revolutions: being enmeshed in slow entropy, in abandoned spaces, in lives forged without recourse to “winning” or “after.” The faggots feel this disintegration, and live best when empires are falling.

2. Be Gay, Do Crime by The Mary Nardini Gang.

Among the discordant chorus of anons who penned the defining texts of the queer anarchist network Bash Back!, none was more fervent in its glorification of criminal desire, decadent hedonism, and social undoing than the Milwaulkee-based Mary Nardini Gang. Their fiery “Towards the Queerest Insurrection” still circulates as an integral manifesto of riotous queerness, while the “Criminal Intimacy” and “Whore Theory” have made their more subterranean way into innumerable conversations and correspondences.

Ten years later, the secretive group supplements these collected writings with a subtle retrospective. Carefully unlocking the hidden layers of their theses on insurrection, they face up to what they got wrong, concede that the world ended somewhere between the Greek insurrection of 2008 and now, and insist upon the vital task of ushering new worlds into being as we live amid the decomposition and cataclysmic death throes of the old one. To their theses on insurrection, they prepend a new arcana tooled for opening onto the queerest of outsides.

Dedicated to their friends among the dead, this pocket edition is a necromantic mirror, an encrypted message to old loves, and an invitation to those finding these words for the first time.

3. The Criminal Child by Jean Genet.

“As for me, I have chosen: I will be on the side of crime. And I will help the children, not to win back access to your houses, your factories, your schools, your laws, and sacraments, but to destroy them.”

So reads this new clandestine translation of a previously censored and unavailable text by Jean Genet. “The Criminal Child” is a critical engagement with the French youth prisons, a reflection on Genet’s formative years within them, a document of hostility towards society and its benevolent reformers, and – as argued by the anonymous afterword – an initiatory magical system.

5. Witchcraft and the Gay Counterculture by Arthur Evans.

This radical faerie classic, first published in 1978 by Fag Rag Press, uncovers the hidden mythic link between homosexuality and paganism in an elegy for the world of sex and magic vanquished by Christian civilization. From Joan of Arc to the Cathars and the underground worshippers of Diana, the author shows how every upwelling of gender transgression and sexual freedom was targeted by the authorities for total and often violent repression or appropriation. The concluding manifesto calls for pagan reconnection with the living world, the creation of armed anarchist cells, and the destruction of industrial civilization.

Left to right. Row 2.

1. What is Gender Nihilism? A Reader.

A collection gathering readings for discussions on an end to gender: not the proliferation or liberation of gender, but its catastrophic cancellation. The reader brings together writings as old as 1883 and as recent as 2015, juxtaposing nihilist, radical feminist, queer, trans, anticolonial, communizing and insurrectionary approaches with other unclassifiable textual/existential disruptions. Many of the readings are out of print or have only appeared online or in zine form, and include: Adrienne Rich, Monique Wittig, Michel Foucault, Judith Butler, A.R. Stone, Paul B. Preciado, the entities known as Radicalesbians, Gender Mutiny, Baedan, Ehn Nothing, Laboria Cuboniks and, as always, Anonymous. Also includes “My Preferred Gender Pronoun is Negation,” “Gender Nihilism” by Aidan Rowe, and the gender nihilism anti-manifesto that inspired the collection.

2. Baedan 1 – journal of queer nihilism.

3. Baedan 2 – a queer journal of heresy.

If the first issue of Baedan was a knife thrust wildly in the dark, the second is an effort to examine our enemies in a new light; enemies who bear scars yet endure. In a sense, this issue follows through our initial attack and pushes beyond our own horrors at the consequences of words. We write at a time when everything which seemed slightly possible two years ago has borne its rotten fruit; when queer recuperation has become more powerful and accepted than ever, while the fetish for technology has reached an unprecedented frenzy; when so many efforts at subversion languish under the tyranny of cybernetic identity and aesthetics (even our own etymologies have become identities!); when friends turn away out of fear of the unknown, turn toward all the comforts and certainties of the past (identity politics, traditionalism, religious morality, activism, et al). The old enemies rear their heads and the terrain is as bleak as ever. And yet we take seriously that adage: “There’s no need to fear or hope, but only to look for new weapons.”

4. Baedan 3 – journal of queer time travel.

Bædan: journal of queer time travel marks a further attempt to pose and to flesh out a queer critique of civilization. Queer not only in the sense of coming from those outside and disruptive of the Family, but also in the sense of a critique weirder than its more orthodox cousins. We imagine the Bædan project as an effort to pose the critique of civilization otherwise, to begin from another place. In this issue (and beyond…) we have conjured a strange bestiary of thinking, trying to unearth and trace the tradition of anti-civilization thought in the literature of queerness and in queerness as immanent critique.

*I couldn't find this one online*

[laifromthecosmos]

Weakened Moon and the Rise of the "Dark Femininity"

Feminine energy is a subtle and powerful force that exists within all of us, representing the yin principle — receptive, intuitive, emotional and creative. It manifests itself through empathy, self-care, sensuality and connection with emotions. The Moon is responsible for activating these feminine powers as it is the great symbol of the most feminine planet in the zodiac. Each week she is in a phase, just like women. The Moon does not have a constant energy like the Sun (symbol of masculine energy). The Sun is God and the Moon is the Goddess, the Sun is spirit and the Moon is the creative force, the Sun is Shiva and the Moon is Shakti. Together they represent a great and primordial duality of male and female. The Moon is the divine mind (that's why in Vedic astrology its sign is the lunar) which includes emotion and feelings, the consciousness that reflects on things). The mind is dependent, reflective and conditioned to consciousness. The Moon shows how we relate to others, our social consciousness. While the sun represents individuality, the Moon indicates our personality. When afflicted, she may show personality disturbances in relation to other people or similar symptoms and emotional disturbances. A Moon with nakshatras that harmonize with your energy can give a sensitivity to human feelings, a social awareness and a need to exchange emotions. It makes our feelings recognized and shared with others. The Moon is everyone's friend, it has our popularity, social status and ability to influence mass.

As very sensitive and changeable, the Moon can be easily influenced and delight in other planetary energies. When strong, the Moon can have the same prominence as the Sun and can shine like it. When the Moon is in a Leo or solar nakshatra, there is a combination of a great leader who is open to people's needs. When combined with Venus, it can have intellectuality from various fields of knowledge accompanied by artistic gifts and spiritual devotion. Saturn can darken you, depress you or give you detachment. Rahu can "fog" or cause loss of mind power. This is because the Moon has the ability to become whatever influences it. Therefore, some nakshatras are responsible for "destroying" and not cooperating with this pure feminine energy that the Moon possesses and turns it into something more destructible and obscure, better known today as the Dark Femininity side.

The concept of "Dark Femininity" refers to a powerful and often repressed aspect of feminine energy, characterized by attributes such as mystery, intensity, inner strength, control, deep sensuality, dark intuition, and the capacity for transformation and rebirth. Unlike traditional feminine energy, which is often associated with softness, receptivity and nurturing, dark feminine involves more hidden, deep and even destructive aspects of the psyche. This energy is related to the acceptance of inner shadows, the ability to navigate emotions such as pain, anger, loss and the destruction of old structures to be reborn stronger. Lilith in mythology and the archetype of the Goddess Kali in Hindu tradition are examples of this dark feminine force. Dark Femininity is a concept that combines sensuality and self-empowerment, it is part of trends on social media and films that have been popular and placed in reality in a distorted way. Dark Femininity is considered "the shadow side of the feminine", which includes characteristics that are suppressed in the face of social expectations. Aesthetically, Dark Femininity is an "energy" that is capable of being more assertive, being fearless, being mysterious, being seductive, embracing your inner wisdom and instincts, acting with intention and with magnetic confidence, being firm in your decisions and among others behaviors. Dark Femininity went viral on social media as an aesthetic that understands the opposite side of the feminine. Combining this phenomenon with astrology, the Dark Femininity is best known as a suppression of the divine feminine, but today this archetype is more associated with the process of healing, transformation and integration of personal shadows, rather than just the dark side of emotions and behaviors. For this energy to ascend, the primary energy of the feminine (the Moon) must be contained, weak, debilitated. So, the Dark Femininity, which previously had no name, is much more than an aesthetic of wearing black and being a Femme Fatale, Meneater, Bombsheell and among other stereotypes of non-submissive women.

When the Moon is in the 3rd and 10th degrees of Scorpio, a sign ruled by Mars and Rahu, associated with transformation, emotional intensity, mysteries, fears and extreme situations, there is an incompatibility between the soft nurturing emotional nature of the Moon and the turbulent Scorpio. The Moon needs peace and stability to thrive and in Scorpio it feels overwhelmed by intensity and trauma, which can generate emotional instability and a feeling of vulnerability. The processes of transformation and rebirth are also harmful to the Moon, so she feels uncomfortable as if she is always in an emotional crisis or transition. The need for control when the Moon is in Scorpio (especially in Anurhadha, which is ruled by Saturn) can generate conflicts and other complications in social interactions. Although people with the Moon in Scorpio may have a keen intuition due to their high connection with the unconscious, this ability can be overshadowed due to its intensity. This makes it difficult to make clear judgment and make impulsive decisions, especially in emotional situations. Vishakha in its final portion begins to feel this debilitation, as we are leaving Libra (ruled by Venus, a planet in harmony with the Moon). This nakshatra governs the balance between light and shadow and is aimed at ambition that faces internal conflicts. The Dark Feminine is accessed through a deep search for personal power and independence that is often accompanied by challenges in relationships and feelings. Vishakha connects the dark femininity through the desire for transformation and evolution, sometimes needing to face inner shadows: such as jealousy, possessiveness and obsession. This forces the native to confront their darker side to achieve emotional and spiritual prosperity. Anuradha in its initial up to the 10th degree is where the main weakening of the Moon occurs, however it can begin to recover as soon as it moves to higher degrees. This nakshatra governs loyalty and devotion and its access to the dark feminine is more intuitive and emotional. Anuradha, ruled by Saturn, has a strong connection with the feminine archetype that sacrifices and transforms itself through devotion. The femininity dark side emerges when these qualities are tested by situations involving loss and disappointment. Here, the dark feminine is accessed by accepting pain, overcoming limits and the ability to be reborn stronger after emotional and relational crises. There is immense power in embracing suffering as part of the spiritual journey, which deepens the dark femininity. Contrary to what many think and would like, the Moon in Jyeshtha is no longer considered debilitated, that is, they do not embrace the Dark Feminine side, as this nakshatra governs superiority and control over the environment, which makes it more associated with mastery. emotional and spiritual than to the dark feminine archetype in its narrowest sense. It is associated more with the responsibility and protection of the divine feminine.

So it is also believed that all nakshatras ruled by Mercury exude the Dark Femininity vibe, but this does not occur. They are often associated with the archetype for their mystical, occult and complex characteristics, but they can no longer be seen exclusively as representatives of this archetype for some reasons linked to the most correct interpretation and evolution of Vedic astrology. I made maps of several people who had Revati and especially Ashlesha and Jyeshtha and they don't behave the same as Dark Femininity. A person already came to my Twitter and told me that he did not identify with his rashi Ashlesha because of the stereotypes recorded in this nakshatra. Let's agree that these cannot harm the lunar energy, on the contrary, they are constantly using the emotional (moon) and intellect (mercury). In Ashlesha there is deep psychological understanding and it is obvious that natives of this nakshatra are exalted in the Moon, as it is a nakshatra that belongs to the sign of Cancer, which is ruled by the Moon itself. Ashlesha represents the feminine archetype of hidden strength. Despite connotations of mystery and control, it also symbolizes deep healing and transformation through "emotional poison". The concept of dark feminine goes beyond manipulation and control, to include a feminine energy that heals through facing one's own shadows, a more evolutionary and integrative quality of Ashlesha. Women with the Moon in Jyeshtha often access their feminine by taking control of situations and becoming figures of influence. When the Moon is in a nakshatra ruled by Mercury, there is no impediment to accessing the primary feminine energy, what happens is that they usually tend to be more controlling and end up suppressing feelings and emotions, since we are also talking about Mercury and so this mind has the power to control the Moon's emotions, but is not able to suppress its feminine energy. Therefore, the reason why these nakshatras may no longer be considered exclusively representatives of the dark feminine lies in a broader and more complex interpretation of the archetype. It is no longer about the dark side of femininity energies, but how these energies can be transformed, healed and used for spiritual and emotional evolution.

And when does the Moon meet Rahu? Rahu is a shadow planet that is associated with material ambitions and karmic influences. Whether the Moon has Rahu nakshatras or is in conjunction with this planet, there can be emotional upheaval and internal conflicts that can cause insecurities and desires. When Rahu associates with the Moon, it brings mental confusion, intense desires and disconnections with reality, bringing a layer of emotional restlessness, distorting emotional clarity and creating a constant search for satisfaction that is often difficult to achieve. The Moon represents our emotional security, and when Rahu influences, the native may have a distorted self-image. There may be deep insecurity and difficulty understanding your own emotions. Ardra has a destructive and tempestuous energy. When the Moon is in Ardra, the person can feel intense emotions, drastic changes in mood and a certain emotional instability. This energy can generate a feeling of anger or internal frustration, which makes it difficult for a person to connect smoothly and fluidly with their feminine energy. Ardra brings an energy of renewal through destruction, which can make it difficult to connect with the feminine side that seeks harmony and nourishment. Women with the Moon in Ardra access their dark femininity by navigating intense emotions such as anger, sadness and frustration, using these forces as agents of transformation and growth. Ardra represents the feminine side that embraces pain and chaos as tools to find clarity and renewal. Just like a storm, they bring destruction, but also the opportunity for reconstruction. Shatabhisha, ruled by Rahu, is a mysterious nakshatra, associated with isolation and emotional detachment. When the Moon is here, there can be a strong tendency toward emotional isolation or an excessive quest for independence, which can suppress the need for intimacy, connection, and nurturing. This influence makes it difficult to express the softness and receptivity typical of feminine energy, as the person may feel that they need to maintain their autonomy and control their emotions. The woman with the Moon in Shatabhisha can manifest her dark femininity through her connection with the invisible, healing herself and others with hidden wisdom. Shatabhisha deals with secrets and mysteries, representing the mystical healer who hides in the shadows but holds a profound power of transformation. This nakshatra embodies dark wisdom and healing through unconventional or occult methods.

The Moon with a connection to Saturn (planet and sign) can also give a strong connection with the dark femininity, especially in terms of emotional depth, psychological challenges and internal transformation processes. This combination brings insight and experiences of suffering or restriction that shape the darker side of the psyche. Saturn represents limits, restrictions and difficult lessons. When in contact with the Moon, which governs emotions, the subconscious mind and intuition, Saturn can bring a heavier, more serious and introspective emotional nature, forcing the individual to confront their shadows. This creates a scenario in which the feminine, represented by the Moon, has to deal with the limitations of Saturn. This combination can generate a feminine energy that faces difficulties, emotional isolation and even loneliness, but finds strength in the midst of these challenges. The dark femininity appears as an internal resilience, an ability to face emotional pain and transform it into wisdom. When Saturn influences the Moon, emotions are forced to mature and the individual may feel a tendency to suppress their feelings. This emotional comfort is a characteristic of the dark feminine, which involves recognition and acceptance of pain and shadow. The dark femininity can be activated here as a deep healing process through emotional darkness and the strength of not showing off emotionally, but which has a strong base rooted in difficult experiences. As Saturn rules time, the Moon with Saturn brings wisdom of life stages and emotional cycles. The dark Femininity, in this case, is not something to be avoided, but rather something that is part of the natural cycle of life. Saturn teaches emotional transformation and encounters with the shadow are inevitable and necessary for growth. The dark feminine can be activated during these cycles of loss, introspection and renewal.

[seongwars]

away with the wind | xii

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: A spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Word Count: 6.1K Warnings: violence, kidnapping, mentions of trafficking, cirrus running a fade on everyone 👀

Fic Masterlist

Seonghwa’s fingers trembled as he frantically checked his phone, swiping through a barrage of notifications with growing urgency. Each swipe only intensified his anxiety as he refreshed the screen, desperately hoping for a response from you. The seconds felt like hours.

Finally, a new notification from your number flashed on the screen, its recent timestamp offering a glimmer of hope. With a swift tap, he opened the message, his heart racing as he scanned the attachments. The photos revealed containers in a warehouse each with evidence of illegally captive dragons being transported. His pulse quickened as he took in the details.

As the gravity of the findings sank in, Seonghwa’s focus momentarily shifted from the information at hand. He scanned the room noting the guests' relaxed demeanor as they listened to the guide's animated explanations. The guide, a man with a wide smile and a practiced enthusiasm, moved from exhibit to exhibit, encouraging visitors to admire and even handle the displays. 

Taking advantage of the distraction, Seonghwa subtly signaled to Hongjoong and his father. His gesture was almost imperceptible—a slight, urgent tilt of his head—conveying the gravity of the situation without drawing undue attention.

“Y/N and Yunho sent over some footage,” he said, his voice steady but charged with a sense of urgency. 

Lord Kim’s face tightened as he absorbed the information. His brows furrowed deeply, a sign of his deepening concern. “Containers?” he asked in a hushed tone, his eyes already betraying a grim understanding of the implications.

He leaned in closer, his face darkening as he absorbed the details. The camera panned methodically over the wreckage, capturing the size and shape of each cage with meticulous precision. Scorch marks varied—some indicated intense, localized heat, while others suggested prolonged exposure to flames. Broken restraints lay scattered haphazardly, some still hanging from the remnants of the cages, others strewn across the floor, rusted and mangled. The scene painted a vivid, distressing picture of the aftermath, hinting at the horrors that had unfolded within those walls.

“This is grave indeed,” Lord Kim murmured, his voice low and strained as he crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze remained fixed on the screen, absorbing the full extent of the destruction. The room around them seemed to fade as the reality of the situation became all too clear.

Hongjoong, ever vigilant, glanced over his shoulder to ensure that the guests remained engrossed in the guide’s enthusiastic explanations. The guide continued to weave his tale with animated gestures, oblivious to the urgency unfolding nearby.

“I suspect the illustrious Lady Lee had a hand in this,” he deduced, his tone carrying a hint of grim certainty. “If they’re trafficking dragons, we need to understand what they’re using these creatures for.”

Seonghwa nodded, his expression grim as he absorbed Hongjoong’s words. “No need,” he said quietly. “They’re most likely related to their hybrid dragons.”

The weight of the revelation hung heavily in the air. The footage, the suspicion of Lady Lee’s involvement, and the hint of dark experiments painted a troubling picture. Their next steps would need to be calculated and swift if they were to unravel the full scope of the operation and put a stop to it.

You and Yunho quickly retraced your steps out of the warehouse and into the nearest corridor, seamlessly slipping into your roles as oblivious tourists who had simply taken a wrong turn. Yunho whipped out his phone, launching a holographic map with a flourish that was more theatrical than necessary. He pretended to study it with exaggerated concentration, every movement designed to convince anyone who might be watching that you were just another pair of lost sightseers. You mirrored his act, glancing around with a look of bewildered confusion, as though you were desperately trying to make sense of your unfamiliar surroundings.

As you strolled past several guards stationed along the corridor, their gazes barely flickered in your direction. Your casual, nonchalant demeanor was convincing, but the tension coiled in your chest was nearly suffocating. Each step you took seemed to amplify the pounding of your heart, while the growing clamor of the busy lobby ahead offered a semblance of safety and a potential escape route.

The grand entrance of the lobby soon came into view, its opulence a stark contrast to the grim reality of the warehouse. You exhaled a small, controlled sigh of relief as you stepped into the expansive, bustling space. 

In a carefully rehearsed move, you exclaim loudly with just the right amount of faux anxiety, “Oh no, I think we’ve been separated from the group!” Your exclamation was deliberately loud enough to draw attention but still fit comfortably within the ambiance of the bustling lobby.

Yunho immediately picked up on the cue, adopting a tone that mixed concern with a casual air. 

“Let’s try asking someone for directions. Maybe they can help us find our group.” His words were directed at you, but his tone was deliberately pitched to be overheard by nearby staff, laying the groundwork for your ruse.

Nodding in agreement, you headed toward the front desk, adopting just the right amount of distress, signaling your need for the receptionist’s assistance. The act of maintaining your cover was crucial if you wanted to make it out of the lab alive. 

“Excuse me,” you began, your voice edged with concern as you approached the front desk. “We seem to have lost our group. Could you help us find our way back to them?”

The receptionist looked up from her computer, her expression shifting from mild annoyance to professional concern as she took in your urgent tone. Her eyes flicked briefly to Yunho, who was standing slightly behind you, maintaining a stance of worried agreement.

“Of course,” the receptionist said, her voice warm and accommodating. “Let me see if I can assist you. Could you please provide me with the name of your group or the tour you’re supposed to be with?”

You and Yunho exchanged a quick, almost imperceptible glance. Yunho stepped forward, his expression confident as he leaned an arm casually against the desk. With a charming smile that seemed to light up the room, he said, “We were with members of the Assembly.”

The receptionist’s eyes widened slightly, clearly impressed by Yunho’s presence. “Ah, the Assembly,” she repeated, her tone now tinged with a hint of respect. “Let me check the records for you.”

As she turned to her computer, Yunho glanced back at you, a playful glint in his eye. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, “I’ve got this.”

You shook your head, laughing at his confidence. Yunho had always had a way with people, effortlessly putting them at ease and winning them over with his charm. It made you wonder why he dedicated so much time to work instead of enjoying a social life.

“Ah, Y/N!” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “Dr. Kang?” you blinked, genuine surprise coloring your voice as you locked eyes with him. His sudden appearance is far from welcome—it’s a complication that could unravel everything. But you quickly regain your composure, forcing a polite smile.

“We were just exploring and accidentally got separated from our tour group,” you explained, adopting a tone that was light and almost apologetic. You gestured vaguely around you, trying to appear nonchalant. “It’s so easy to lose track of where you are in such a big place.”

“I’m glad I'm not the only one,” Yeosang breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought I was the only one who had taken a wrong turn.”

You nodded sympathetically, maintaining your facade of innocence. “We’re just trying to find our way back to the group.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? Perhaps we can find them together?”

You take a moment to craft your response, aiming to keep the conversation engaging while steering it away from anything incriminating. “Of course, if you don’t mind being surrounded by Assembly members and endless discussions about bureaucracy.”

“Excuse me, your group should be at the reception area,” the receptionist interrupted. Thank gods, you thought to yourself. “The location should be down that corridor and to the left.”

As you strolled down the corridor, your senses remained on high alert. Yeosang continued his small talk with Yunho, pointing out the differences in Cromer’s work against the Institute, but the tension between you was palpable. His questions were too pointed, his interest too keen. Each step, each glance exchanged, felt like a delicate dance on the edge of a precipice.

After a tense journey through the corridors, you and Yunho finally spot Seonghwa and Hongjoong milling about in one of the larger exhibition rooms that doubled as the reception space. The sight of them is a small relief, a sign that you’re successfully blending back into the crowd. 

“It seems we found your group,” Dr. Kang chuckled, his eyes still sharp and observant.

“Thank you, Dr. Kang,” you say, maintaining the pretense of gratitude. Yunho echoes your thanks, his tone equally courteous. You begin to step away, eager to merge with the group and escape the unnerving presence of Yeosang.

But just as you’re about to join the others, Yeosang’s voice cuts through the air, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Y/N, could you stay back for a moment?” Yeosang’s tone is light, almost casual, but there's an undertone that made your heart skip a beat.

Yunho hesitated, glancing at you with concern. Yeosang quickly added, “Just a quick chat about some of your findings. Nothing too serious.” His smile was friendly, but his eyes betrayed a deeper intent, making you wary.

You share a quick, silent exchange with Yunho, a look that says, I’ll be fine. He nods reluctantly and continues toward the group, though his pace is slower, his posture tense, clearly remaining on edge.

Turning back to Yeosang, you forced a smile, trying to match his casual demeanor. “Of course, what do you need to discuss?”

He motioned for you to follow him to a quieter corner of the exhibition room, away from the prying eyes and ears of the other visitors. As you walked, the weight of the situation weighed down on you. 

“Did you find anything interesting?” he asked, his voice low and casual, though his sideways glance hinted at a more probing interest. “I’d love to know what you’ve uncovered.”

You met his gaze with careful neutrality, the flicker of tension still fresh in your mind. “I didn’t get very far,” you lied, choosing your words with deliberate precision. “I tried comparing the markers from the Kuku to my Dreamwood as an example, but it’s been challenging to draw any definitive conclusions.”

“Challenging?” Yeosang’s interest seemed to intensify, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed your response. 

“The markers are quite distinct from what we have in our records. There are some similarities, but the differences are significant enough that it complicates the comparison. I’m still working on isolating the variables and trying to make sense of the discrepancies.”

Yeosang’s expression shifted to one of thoughtful consideration, his eyes studying you with a sharp focus. “Interesting. It sounds like you’re onto something, even if it’s not immediately clear. Why don’t you stop by the lab next week? We can look at it together and see if we can make any progress.”

The offer seemed genuine on the surface, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that his interest was more than just academic. 

“Sure, I’d appreciate the help,” you replied, forcing a note of enthusiasm into your voice. 

Yeosang’s smile widened, and he gave a nod of satisfaction. “Great. I’ll look forward to it.” With that, he gestured for you to rejoin the group, the conversation having ended as quickly as it began.

Yunho stood at the edge of Seonghwa’s office, his eyes fixed on the expansive holographic display that now filled the room. The footage, captured from multiple angles, hovered in mid-air, creating a three-dimensional map of every corner and crevice.

Every detail of the warehouse was exposed, from the scuffed concrete floors to the claw marks on the containers, as if the very fabric of the space had been unraveled before him.

“Find anything?” Seonghwa’s voice broke through the silence.

Yunho let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he shook his head. 

“No,” he said, his tone resigned. “This was all the evidence we were able to capture before the guards showed up. The footage is thorough, but it doesn’t reveal much beyond what we already knew.”

He paused, his eyes tracing the holographic image of the shackles displayed prominently on the screen. 

“The only thing that’s clear is that these restraints are small enough to fit juveniles, not adults.”

Seonghwa nodded thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing as he considered the implications. “It’s easier to capture juveniles than adults for illegal experimentation, that’s for sure,” he remarked. The words hung in the air, a chilling reminder of the dark nature of their investigation.

There was a brief silence, filled only by the faint hum of the holographic display. Seonghwa’s gaze flicked to his desk, where his phone lay ominously silent. 

“Have you heard from Y/N?” he asked, his tone tinged with concern. “I can’t get through to her.”

Yunho’s expression tightened, his worry evident. “No word from her yet. I know she was going to stop by the lab today but haven’t heard from her since.”

“Dr. Kang, Y/N is here,” Sumin’s voice rang out clearly, breaking the soft hum of activity in the Biology lab. The secretary’s announcement echoed slightly in the pristine, white-walled corridor, his tone both professional and cordial.

The door to the lab slid open smoothly, and you stepped into the room, expecting to be greeted by the usual flurry of activity. Instead, you were met with an unusual silence. The bright, artificial lighting cast a sharp, sterile glow over the expansive space, revealing an array of scientific instruments and glassware meticulously arranged across gleaming countertops.

“Dr. Kang?” you called out, your voice carrying through the empty lab but receiving no immediate response. The sound of your voice seemed to dissipate into the vast space, adding to the surreal feeling of the room.

You glanced around, noting the various research stations, each one perfectly maintained but empty of human presence. The silence was punctuated only by the occasional hum of machinery or the soft whirr of ventilation.

As you ventured deeper into the labyrinth of workstations, you stumbled upon an array of dragon limbs, meticulously dissected and strung up on giant hooks. Each limb, massive and lifesize, dwarfed the average man, their sheer scale a testament to the dragons' formidable presence. 

The dissected pieces, preserved with clinical precision, revealed layers of sinew, muscle, and scale, stretching far beyond the dimensions of any human limb. Though lifeless, the specimens carried an eerie dignity, their vibrant, iridescent scales catching the cold, fluorescent light that loomed over everything in the room.

“Y/N, I see you’re here,” a voice broke through the sterile silence, pulling you from your thoughts.

You turned, your gaze still lingering on the lifeless limbs. "What is this?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, the words catching in your throat as the chilling scene unfolded before you. The magnitude of it all made the air feel thick and heavy, like the remnants of something forbidden were pressing down on you, demanding answers that you weren't sure you wanted to hear.

“The future,” he replied smoothly, “Dragons are more than just relics of the past. Their strength, their resilience, it’s all right here, waiting to be harnessed by my hands.”

His words cut through the suffocating silence like a blade, and a shiver ran down your spine. The implications of his statement settled in—a future built on the bones of creatures that once ruled the skies, reduced to specimens and parts for human gain. 

“This is wrong,” you stammered, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. 

“Doing this under the Institute’s nose is illegal—you know that.” Your heart pounded as the enormity of the situation settled in. “You can’t just—”

Yeosang’s expression shifted, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features before he masked it with a calm, almost dismissive indifference. 

“Has anyone ever told you that your deduction skills are—” he paused, a thin smile curling at the edges of his lips, “admirable, but rather inconvenient? You’ve become quite the detective with all the snooping you and your ragtag gang of friends have been up to. I imagine having access to Park Seonghwa’s connections and Kim Hongjoong’s resources has been oh-so-convenient for you.”

“W-What are you talking about?” you demanded, taking a step back. 

His words struck a nerve, and you stiffened. How did he know about your deep dive into Ajax’s lineage? The realization that your investigation was no longer hidden sent a chill through you.

“Requesting a sequencing report, now that’s quite specific,” Yeosang remarked, his tone laced with a mix of condescension and grudging admiration. “Only someone looking to compare two different types of genetic material would go that route. It’s a bold move, bordering on reckless.”

He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing as if assessing you with newfound respect, or perhaps wariness. “Then you discovered the warehouse,” Yeosang continued, his tone admiring yet laced with an unsettling edge. 

“How did you–” you whispered, your voice faltering as you struggled to comprehend the gravity of his words. “You weren’t at the lab by chance.”

Yeosang tilted his head slightly, a mocking glint flickering in his eyes. “Oh, not at all, Y/N,” he replied, his voice smooth and casual. “It’s quite impressive, really, how far you’ve managed to get.”

He paused for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. “I must admit, Park Seonghwa isn’t as daft as I initially presumed,” Yeosang continued, his tone shifting to one of begrudging acknowledgment. “I didn’t expect him to connect the dots so quickly. But that’s the thing about talent—it occasionally shows up in the most unexpected places.”

“But even with all of his cleverness and the Kim’s vast network, you’re still playing a dangerous game, meddling in things far beyond your understanding. You’ve poked your nose into places it doesn’t belong.”

“You can’t just play god because you think you know better than everyone else,” you shot back, your voice trembling with defiance and fear.

Yeosang’s lips curled into a cold, predatory smile. “Oh, but I don’t think I’m better than everyone else,” he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. 

“I know I am.”

His eyes bored into yours with an intensity that made your blood run cold. “You see, the difference between us is that I understand the stakes and I’m willing to see them through. You, on the other hand, are just a pawn in a game you can’t even begin to comprehend.”

A chill ran through you as his words sank in. Something about his tone felt off, the confidence in his stance unnerving. 

“You should’ve stayed out of it,” a voice said, smooth and tainted with disappointment. The sound sent a jolt of shock through your system, your heart stuttering as you turned to face the source.

“Wooyoung?” you breathed, your eyes widening as he stepped into view. There he stood, casually leaning against a workstation, his presence out of place in the dimly lit lab. Your mind reeled, the pieces of a sinister puzzle snapping into place with a clarity that felt like a punch to the gut. 

“You’ve been feeding him information this whole time?”

Wooyoung shrugged, his expression calm and unapologetic. “I didn’t think anything of it until you started getting involved.” Wooyoung moved closer, his eyes dark and unreadable. 

“You wanted to be a hero, didn’t you?” he continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “To uncover the truth and save the day? You flew too close to the sun Y/N. And now you’re about to get burned.”

“Jung Wooyoung, how… how could… c-could y-you…” you slurred, your voice barely a whisper as a sharp pain bloomed at the base of your neck. The words struggled to leave your lips, each syllable a battle against the sedative coursing through your veins. Your legs gave way beneath you, and you crumpled to the ground, the world around you spinning into a blur.

Wooyoung’s expression remained impassive, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you fall. There was no hint of emotion in his eyes, just a cold detachment that sent a shiver down your spine. The edges of your vision darkened, and you fought to keep your eyes open, to stay conscious just a little longer.

Above you, Yeosang’s face hovered, his expression cold and clinical. He withdrew the needle with a practiced ease, his gaze never wavering from yours. There was no sympathy in his eyes, only a chilling resolve.

“When you wake up, you’ll be able to fly again,” Yeosang murmured, his voice a soft, almost soothing contrast to the harsh reality of the situation. His words echoed in your mind as the darkness finally claimed you, pulling you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Cirrus’ nose twitched, sensing something amiss. The bond linking your minds flickered with distress and confusion, and the dragon’s primal instincts surged to the surface. She felt your fear, your pain, and the sudden, terrifying drop in your consciousness.

She thrashed against the cavern walls, her eyes blazing with fierce, protective fury. A deafening bellow erupted from her, demanding to know where you were and why you were in danger. The sound echoed through the caverns, a call of desperation and anger.

“Cirrus!” your grandmother shouted, her voice nearly drowned out by the dragon’s roars. She raised her hands, trying to project a sense of calm, but Cirrus’s eyes, glowing with an intense, wild light, were locked on the horizon. She wasn’t listening. She couldn’t. The only thing that mattered was finding you.

With a final, bone-chilling roar, Cirrus made her decision. The ground shook from the force of her takeoff, and in an instant, she was soaring into the sky, leaving the chaos of the caverns behind.

Your grandmother watched in helpless dismay as Cirrus disappeared into the clouds, her heart pounding with fear and uncertainty.

BREAKING NEWS – DRAGON FLYING TOWARDS CROMER LABS, ALL CIVILIANS IN THE AREA EVACUATED

“Seonghwa,” Yunho panicked, thrusting his phone at Seonghwa, the live footage of Cirrus charging at full speed toward Cromer Labs filling the screen. “You should see this.”

Seonghwa’s heart dropped as he watched a familiar lavender dragon streak across the sky, her massive wings slicing through the air with terrifying precision. Cirrus was in a frenzy, and there was no mistaking her target. Cromer Labs loomed in the distance, its cold, clinical exterior standing stark against the dragon’s wild, primal energy.

As the facility came into view, Cirrus let out a ferocious roar that echoed through the skies like a battle cry. The sound reverberated with a force that shook the very earth, and Seonghwa knew this wasn’t just a dragon on the loose—this was a guardian seeking her bonded.

“Shit.” 

Seonghwa didn’t hesitate. Without another word, he sprinted through the estate, his mind racing. He had to reach Cirrus before she tore the lab apart—or worse, before the lab’s defenses and keepers decided she was too great a threat to let live.

He called out for Starshine, his voice cutting through the night air with urgency. The response was immediate as Seonghwa vaulted onto her back, gripping the reins tightly.

“Let’s go,” he urged, and with a powerful leap, Starshine launched into the sky. 

The wind roared in Seonghwa’s ears as they soared toward the lab, the landscape below blurring into a patchwork of dark fields and city lights. He could see the trail of destruction Cirrus had left in her wake, the telltale signs of her fury etched into the ground.

The lab’s alarms blared, a cacophony of sound that only fueled Cirrus’s rage. She landed with a ground-shaking impact, her claws carving deep gouges into the asphalt as she tore through the barriers in her path. Debris flew in every direction, and the humans in the surrounding area scrambled in panic, but Cirrus paid them no mind. Her only focus was finding you, protecting you, and destroying anything that stood in her way.

Seonghwa urged Starshine to fly faster, his heart pounding in his chest. He could see Cirrus now, a force of nature, her chest heaving with each breath as she prepared to breach the lab’s final defenses. Smoke curled from her nostrils, twisting into the air like a dark omen.

“Hold on, Cirrus,” Seonghwa muttered under his breath as they closed in. He knew they had only moments before things escalated beyond control. Starshine’s wings beat furiously as they approached, and Seonghwa’s mind raced with a single thought: he had to reach her, to calm her, before it was too late.

Yunho, close behind on Voltage, was already scanning the area, trying to piece together what could have caused such a violent reaction from the usually controlled dragon. 

Cirrus’s massive form shifted, her glowing eyes locking onto Seonghwa and Yunho. There was no recognition, no bond to anchor her; all that remained was the raw, primal instinct to protect and destroy. With a snarl that sent chills down their spines, Cirrus suddenly lunged at them, her powerful wings sending a gust of wind that nearly knocked Seonghwa off balance.

“Yunho, move!” Seonghwa shouted, pulling Starshine into a sharp ascent as Cirrus barreled toward them. The impact of her claws against the air sent a shockwave through the sky, and Seonghwa could feel the vibration in his bones. 

Yunho was already moving, as Starshine dove down to intercept Cirrus before she could close the distance on Voltage. The two dragons collided in mid-air, their roars deafening as they grappled with each other. Claws slashed through the air, and the sky lit up with bursts of energy as Starshine tried to hold Cirrus back.

“Cirrus, stop!” Seonghwa called out, but his voice was drowned out by the fury of the fight. Starshine twisted to avoid Cirrus’s snapping jaws, trying to push her back without hurting her. Resetting course, she flapped her wings, diving toward Cirrus with precision. The goal wasn’t to harm but to restrain, to bring her back to herself.

But Cirrus was relentless, her rage blinding her to everything but the perceived threat. She twisted out of Starshine’s grasp, her tail lashing out and clipping her wing. Starshine let out a sharp cry, struggling to maintain balance as they fought to stay in the air.

“Seonghwa! Yunho!”

A flash of radiant light cut through the gloom, slicing across the horizon like a blade of pure sunlight. 

“Lady Sunmi!” Seonghwa exclaimed, a relief washing over him. Your sister had arrived with her dragon, Eos. 

For a moment, the ferocity in Cirrus’ eyes wavered, her primal instincts recognizing the strength and authority that Eos carried. Without any further hesitation, she snapped out of her reverie and let out a furious roar, the sound reverberating across the sky.

Without warning, Cirrus lunged at Eos, her claws outstretched, teeth bared in a savage snarl. Eos barely had time to react, pulling up sharply to avoid the full force of the charge. She flapped her wings with powerful strokes, trying to gain altitude, but Cirrus was relentless.

Eos twisted in the air, countering with a sharp turn of her own, her claws slashing through the sky as she retaliated. The clash of their massive forms shook the ground below. Angling her wings just in time, Eos narrowly avoided the strike, and retaliated with a swift, calculated blow to Cirrus's flank.

The hit landed, and Cirrus snarled in pain, momentarily losing her momentum. Cirrus whirled around, using her powerful hind legs to launch herself at Eos once more. The two dragons became a blur of motion—claws slashing, tails whipping, wings beating furiously as they fought for dominance.

Cirrus lunged, her jaws snapping mere inches from Eos’s neck. Eos countered with a powerful wing swipe, sending Cirrus spiraling out of control. Letting out a roar of frustration, Cirrus’s breath came in ragged gasps as she struggled to regain her bearings. But Eos was ready.

With a final, commanding bellow, Eos surged forward, wrapping Cirrus in a tight, unyielding grip. It was a move that combined raw strength with the gentle pressure of authority, signaling the battle’s end.

The younger dragon thrashed wildly in the air, fighting against the hold. But Eos held firm, her wings encircling Cirrus in a protective embrace. Slowly, Cirrus’s struggles weakened, her energy spent. The wild light in her eyes dimmed as exhaustion took over, and she finally relented, collapsing against Eos in a shuddering heap.

From a distance, Seonghwa and Yunho watched with bated breath, their hearts pounding in their chests. The tension in the air was almost suffocating as Cirrus fought against your sister and her own instincts.

"Y/N’s in there," Yunho said quietly, voice tinged with horror as he pieced together the damage. The thought of you being trapped inside that cold, clinical building while Cirrus tore through it like a force of nature was almost too much to bear.

"We have to get her out of there," Seonghwa said, his voice laced with urgency. He couldn’t let you stay in that place a moment longer, not while Cirrus was in a blind rage, and not while the lab’s security systems were likely more focused on containing the dragon than ensuring the safety of those inside.

When you come to, a sharp, throbbing pain radiates from the back of your head, and you squint against the dim light of the room. The disorientation is overwhelming, but as your vision clears, the reality of your situation slams into you with the force of a freight train. You’re strapped to the seat of a console, the cold metal biting into your wrists and ankles as you instinctively try to free yourself. Panic surged through you, your breath quickening as you tugged desperately at the restraints.

Your heart raced as your bleary eyes settled on the ominous sight before you—a life-sized incubation tube dominating the center of the room, its sleek, metallic frame reflecting the sparse, sterile light that filters through the darkness. 

The dragon was still, its eyes closed in what appeared to be a deep, dreamless sleep. The liquid around it was a pale, ethereal color, giving the impression that the dragon was floating in a kind of otherworldly cocoon. The sight was both mesmerizing and disquieting, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the dragon you were familiar with.

You try to steady your breathing, to push back the rising tide of fear, but the sight before you only deepens the sense of dread that clung to your thoughts. What is this place? Why are you here? And, most terrifying of all, what have they done to this dragon?

“You’re awake,” Yeosang sings, his tone dripping with a cruel sort of amusement.

Your blood runs cold as you turn your head to find him standing just a few feet away, his expression a twisted mask of satisfaction. The light casts sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the dangerous glint in his eyes. He’s been watching you, waiting for this moment, and the realization makes your stomach churn.

"What is this?" you manage to choke out, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay calm. 

“This,” Yeosang continued, his voice softening with a rare hint of reverence, “is the result of years of research and experimentation. It represents the pinnacle of my efforts to unlock the limits of dragon physiology and enhance their abilities. Everything I’ve worked for has led to this moment.”

You glanced back at the dragon, the sight of its serene slumber now tinged with a new layer of complexity. The creature was no longer just a subject in a high-tech incubator but a living embodiment of Yeosang’s ambitions and research.

He stepped closer, his gaze flicking briefly to the dragon in the tube before settling back on you. "And you are going to be a part of it."

Yeosang watched you struggle with a detached interest. His gaze drifted towards the sleek console that contained you where a complex array of wires and screens are meticulously arranged. 

"What are you doing? Let me go," you demand, your voice stronger this time, though still edged with fear. You tug against the restraints once more, ignoring the pain as the metal digs into your skin. You have to find a way out, a way to stop whatever nightmare Yeosang is orchestrating.

Yeosang ignored your pleas. "The neural link is nearly complete. When activated, it will fuse your consciousness with the dragon's. The transmitter embedded in your neck interfaces directly with the dragon’s neural pathways, creating a seamless telepathic connection."

“Let me go!” you screamed, your voice breaking with fear and desperation.

“Let you go?” he repeated, his tone devoid of sympathy. “Not when we’re on the brink of witnessing how the regenerative function operates. It’s one of the most crucial aspects of this experiment,” Yeosang continued, his voice almost reverent. 

“Don’t you want to fly again, Y/N?” He glanced at you with a hint of curiosity, as if testing the waters of your desperation. “Don’t you want to heal that broken back of yours?”

The notion of flying again, once a cherished dream, was now twisted into a horrifying spectacle of manipulation. The thought of being bound to the dragon, subjected to its primal force and the invasive technology that linked you both, was overwhelming.

“You know,” he said with faint amusement, “you’re the first candidate to fight back. Most of the others were quite compliant.”

“The kids,” you managed to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. “What have you done to them?”

“Yes, the children were part of the initial trials,” he sighed, ignoring you again. “Their young minds were more adaptable to the neural interface. But there were… complications.”

“Complications?” you echo, your stomach churning.

“Some of the connections were too strong,” Yeosang admits, his tone almost clinical. “The riders lost their sense of self, becoming too intertwined with the dragons. It was a setback, but one that provided valuable data. Physically, they’re fine, though they do face some… emotional challenges.”

The room seemed to close in around you as you processed the enormity of his words. The children had become casualties of Yeosang’s ambition, their identities obliterated in the name of progress. 

“Where are they?” you gritted. 

“They’re being monitored,” he explained, his voice devoid of any hint of empathy. “Their bodies are intact, but their minds—well, they’re still part of the ongoing research. We’re studying the effects of the integration and how to refine the process.”

As the machinery around you began to hum with increased intensity, the final preparations for the experiment were being set into motion. The neural link cables glowed brighter, casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls.

Panic surged through you as you strained against the metal restraints. “No, no, please, no,” you cried, your voice cracking with desperation.

The sudden blare of alarms pierced through the hum of machinery, their shrill wail growing louder and more urgent. Yeosang’s face darkened as the alarms were interspersed with the rhythmic pounding of what sounded like heavy impacts from outside. The building itself seemed to shudder, its walls vibrating as if responding to an unseen force.

“Hey, bastard,” a voice growled from the shadows, carrying an unmistakable authority and defiance. “You better get out of there before the authorities shut down your little operation. Her dragon’s about to tear the place down.”

The voice, emerging from the very darkness of the lab, stood in stark contrast to the mechanical whirring and the blaring alarms. Your heart raced with a mix of hope and disbelief as you turned your head and saw a familiar figure stepping into the dim light.

Mingi…?

<< xi | xiii >>

a/n: chapter xii is finally here! it might be a while before the next chapter as i'll be out for a procedure in a week. but uhhh yeah, mingi 👀

taglist: @chngbnwf, @sunnysidesins @litolmochi @syubseokie @park-simphwa @szakias @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @maliamaiden @signingsongbird @passionandsuga @mitchii

[silhouetteonpaper]

Mind and Matter

Summary: When your plan to save New York goes awry, Natasha decides there’s only one person to blame. Natasha x Reader & Wanda x Reader WC: 1,502 Warnings: fighting, use of powers on each other, going unconscious A/N: Just something short and sweet for tonight! I hope you enjoy <3

“It’s the only option.” You explain to the team as they wrack their minds for any plausible idea on how to save the city. A villain with access to the Power Stone is currently wreaking havoc on the town just outside the window, millions of lives at stake. The only idea you can think of is attempting to stop him using your own powers created by the Power Stone. 

You’re immediately met with adverse reactions. “You know our number one rule, we don’t trade lives.” Steve speaks up, making you roll your eyes.

“C’mon, have a little faith in me. If it were anyone else, you’d be all in.” You argue with crossed arms. Nat steps up, calming you before things get too heated.

“Hey, you know that’s not true. It’s not that we don’t think you can do it; it’s purely too big a risk.” She assures, exchanging a nod with Steve. You relent with a deep breath, nodding back at the two. They’re right, it’s a risky move. But that’s not to say you aren’t willing to take that chance in order to save millions.

Tony’s next to offer an idea. “Alright, so no sacrificing the kid.” You elbow him in the ribs, receiving a shrug in response. “What about combining the stone’s effects? Two is stronger than one…” He has a point, making you raise an eyebrow to see what the rest of the team thinks.

“You could be onto something. Wanda? How do you feel about that?” Steve directs his attention to the redhead off to the side of the room. She seems to be more focused on the destruction outside, rather than the planning happening right before her.

“That’d surely be safer. Are you okay with it?” Wanda looks to you, her gaze making you swallow any fears before they even had a chance to rise.

“I’m game.” You tell the group with a deep breath. Everyone nods reassuringly, a plan quickly coming into place. With the combined energy of two stones, the Power and Mind Stone, maybe there’d be a chance at saving the city. There’s only one way to find out.

After a brief moment of preparing to expel an extreme amount of energy, you find yourself out on the streets of New York City amongst the chaos. Screaming herds of people flee the streets, leaving an open space for you and Wanda to battle it out with the hooded figure wielding a purple crystal.

Before he noticed the two of you preparing, Wanda called out her signal. “You ready?” She spoke over her earpiece, both of you on opposite sides of the enemy hiding behind whatever debris kept you unnoticed.

“Ready!” You responded, waiting for her ‘go’ before jumping into action. Within seconds, a purple beam of light shoots from your hands into the depths of the street. Each fragment of light makes your arms burn, the sensation filling your entire abdomen.

A red streak of energy omits from the other side of the hooded figure, each beam finding its way to the enemy as you and Wanda push harder and harder to destroy him. The heat inside of you rises, the fiery feeling flowing inside your veins as the purple glow grows stronger. A bright orb surrounds the figure, a protective move cast by the one wielding the stone.

Every ounce of energy you can spare is targeted towards him, the little gleam of the power stone almost taunting you with how close it is. The tiny stone that causes so much destruction, yet also is the reason you harness so much power. Now in the wrong hands, you feel a sense of hatred towards it, yet you can’t deny it has offered you so much power in the right hands—your own hands.

“He’s breaking! Keep going!” You barely hear Tony’s words of encouragement over the strain in your chest, the aching feeling of everything you have being sent out before you. So close, just a little longer and you’ll have successfully saved New York.

But after only another moment of being blinded by your own power, you notice the glowing orb is gone, the hooded figure now flying up in the sky. It only takes a second for the red beam to hit you dead in the chest, your entire world going black.

“No!” Wanda yells, her red energy soon dissipating like a gust of wind. Her feet pound the concrete as she approaches your unconscious body, but not before a certain someone stops her.

“Get away from her,” Natasha runs over, wasting no time to bend down and check your pulse. Her expression reveals the seriousness of the situation before Steve and Tony have even caught their breath at your side. “She’s barely breathing, we have to get her to the med bay. Let’s move!”

Scooping you up and bringing you back towards the compound before losing your pulse, the team barely has time to see Wanda overcome with guilt. As her eyes fill with tears while rushing after you, she places every ounce of responsibility on herself.

There’s barely any time to sit and sulk, Natasha laying you down in the med bay as Bruce quickly hooks up machines to keep you alive. “What happened out there?” He asks with concern, noticing the purple skin around your chest. Natasha only shakes her head at him, eyeing Wanda who now stands in the corner pacing back and forth.

After hours of waiting, hours of wishing things went differently, Nat finds herself sitting by your bed in the white-walled room, thinking to herself of how she could’ve prevented this. It isn’t until you move your hand under hers that she notices you’re awake.

A deep breath of relief makes you smile as your eyes flutter open. “You’re awake, thank goodness.” She breathes, her thumb rubbing over your hand. You spend a moment taking your current state into account. Nothing is broken… but wow, your abdomen hurts.

“Did we do it? Did we get the stone back?” You ask with a small sense of hope. Natasha’s slow head shake destroys any ounce of that, though. She continues to gaze at you, a worried expression still covering her face.

“Will you worry about yourself for once?” She questions, her own instinct to protect you stronger now that you’re lying here injured.

“I’ll have to ask Tony how.” You tease, finally making Natasha laugh. Now it’s your turn to take a breath of relief, that is until you remember the events from earlier.

The image of Wanda’s red beam of light makes you flinch. “Wanda! Is she alright?” You ask with concern. Now recalling what happened, you know that Wanda would only blame herself for the terrible accident.

“She’ll be okay, you need to rest and recover right now.” Natasha attempts to reassure you, but it doesn’t work.

“Please get Wanda, I need to be sure she isn’t blaming herself.” You demand, watching as Nat raises an eyebrow at you. “It’s not her fault! Nat, please!” Giving in to your pleas, Natasha stands and heads out of the room.

Only a few minutes pass before a familiar face enters, covered entirely in an expression you expected. Guilt. Wanda takes a few hesitant steps towards you, waiting at the edge of the bed before you pat the side, giving her explicit permission to sit next to you.

Still, she keeps to herself and is cautious to move the bed too much. It’s unlike her, and you can tell something is wrong. You start to talk her out of it before she interrupts. “Wanda-“ 

“No, this is completely my fault. I’m so sorry, I was so focused on putting all I had into my defense that I wasn’t quick enough to change direction…” Wanda explained, tears beginning to fall from her eyes once more.

“This isn’t your fault Wanda, I promise I don’t blame you. It was a sneaky move on his part, we couldn’t have predicted that.” You console her in hopes she drops the accusation.

“No, no, I should’ve been more careful-“ 

You’re quick to interrupt her this time. “No, Wanda. Listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You were working so hard, no one can blame you for that. The only way I can be 100% alright is if you are too, okay?” You express. She only nods, a small heartfelt smile creeping onto her face as you reach for her hand.

That’s when Natasha walks back into the room, making your focus shift. “And you, forgive Wanda, please. It’s no one’s fault. The quicker you guys resolve your issues, the faster I’m back out on the field.” You tell her firmly.

The silence is broken as soon as she laughs, walking up to Wanda to put a hand on her shoulder. “Alright, alright. But just because you helped us feel better doesn’t mean you’re healed. You still need to rest.” Nat voices. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling in defeat.

“Damn it.”

[bookishdaze]

Noah's Ark for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes

You know how the story of Caesar is inspired by Moses? Freeing his people and taking them to the promised lands?

Well, to continue this trend of using events and figures from the Bible as inspiration, Noa from Kingdom is based on Noah. They're not subtle about it at all.

Our main ape is named Noa, he saves his people from a flood, and there's a very big boat in the background for good measure. In case it wasn't obvious enough!

However, I believe we are not done with the similarities to Noah from the Bible. The story of Caesar as Moses happened in both Rise and War, actually. So if the similarities to Noah will continue in this new trilogy...what will that look like? Time to speculate!

First things first...we need an Ark, right? What will that look like? For this post and speculation, I will use other movies for inspiration!

Note: I'm not saying these movies were purposefully based on Noah's Ark. This is mostly for ideas and inspiration.

I've thought of bunkers, planes, and boats.

Bunker as the Ark

Okay, this idea came to me after watching Greenland with Gerard Butler. In Greenland, we follow John who has to take his family to a bunker in Greenland because an asteroid is going to hit earth that will wipe out all life. I know a bunker is not a big method of transportation like a boat, but here's why it could fit!

The flood from the Bible was a world-ending event that wiped out everything, right? Well, bunkers are built to withstand world-ending events! Maybe there's a big danger like a virus or bomb that the apes will need to escape from by hunkering down in a bunker.

Even in Kingdom, the apes have to climb deep within the bunker/vault in order to save themselves from the flood. Maybe foreshadowing that a bunker will save them from another "flood" event in the future?

In Greenland, the humans leave the bunker once the dust has settled after nine months of living underground. One of the first things they see are birds, a sign that there is still life on earth. This reminds me of how Noah used birds to see if the waters from the flood had receded enough for it to be safe to leave the Ark. This also makes me think of how Noa's clan raises eagles...

The POTA franchise has always used bunkers in in its story, all the way back to the originals with the mutants from Beneath the Planet of the Apes that lived underground.

Aircraft as an Ark

Some movies/shows that come to mind that use aircraft, planes, and even spaceships as an Ark are Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3, Thor Ragnarok, and The Handmaid's Tale.

In GotG Vol. 3, the movie ends with a bunch of animals escaping an exploding spaceship by getting on Knowhere, a spaceship/planet. This reminds me of how Noah had two of each animal on the Ark.

In Thor Ragnarok, Thor gets the people of Asgard on a spaceship in order to escape the destruction of their home world, Asgard.

In season 3 of The Handmaid's Tale, June and other rebels create a plan to get a bunch of children out of Gilead by having them escape on an airplane.

Even before this, when June learns how many others agreed to help, she jokingly replies, "We're gonna need a bigger boat."

I did create this post earlier this year where I discuss how Kingdom could be foreshadowing Noa taking flight in an aircraft. Where would the apes get a plane? Where would they go? And if it's a plane, what would they be escaping? The humans? Maybe it's both apes and humans escaping something? Other humans? A bomb? A virus? A natural disaster?

Boat as an Ark

This one is very on the nose, lol. I don't have other movies as examples for this one, but the story of Noah uses a literal boat, so I don't think I need to find other examples to prove this as a possibility. I personally don't think it would be a boat, but it could be another neat way to show how apes are advancing. And considering how apes die by drowning a lot in Kingdom, and how other movies like the 2001 POTA shows apes being afraid of water, apes getting on a boat could be a neat way to show how they're no longer afraid of the water?

Soooo that's all I got. A bunker is the one that makes the most sense. I also really like the idea of planes and apes advancing enough to understand flight. Boats I'm not very confident on, but I'm open to all possibilities. Feel free to share your thoughts and ideas!

[metamorphesque]

any words that resonates to you to hold on to in these times of hopelessness?

May I share my thoughts on hope and hopelessness?

I myself have a complicated history with the notion of hope, for I too have often confused it with blind optimism and felt disheartened when it let me down. However, years of reflection, trials, tribulations and losses have taught me this.

Hope, the way many people tend to perceive it, is a fragile thing. It stands exposed — naked and vulnerable to the storms of despair that threaten to uproot it. It is often baseless, relying solely on an unfounded assurance (or self-assurance) that "things will be fine". It can often lead to denial, idleness and complacency. However, this is not true Hope; this is blind optimism, often mistaken for hope.

True Hope is fortified by knowledge, through which it gains roots — deep and unbending. Hope is paired with courage, thus, it is resilient, as valor urges it to press forward, to face and confront the trials ahead, instead of placing faith in luck and external forces, or, even worse, dismissing and ignoring reality. And when hope is guided by good intent, it becomes a weapon — not one of harm and destruction, but of light and illumination, used to push back the darkness and face the evils that hide within it.

This kind of hope, true Hope does not depend on the certainty of victory. It is not about what will be but about what must be done. It is anchored in the ideals of the present, nourished by the wisdom of the past. Thus, Hope is not some whimsical or magical idea that suddenly takes root in your mind, filling you with optimism; a baseless promise that "everything will be alright". Hope is a choice. Hope is effort. Hope is hard work.

To truly earn the right to hope — not just to cling to blind optimism — we must arm ourselves with knowledge and courage, face fear and doubt, and choose to act despite them.

It may sound complicated, but I believe that if one possesses (or obtains) the three components from which hope is formed (knowledge, courage, good intent), their combination will naturally give rise to true Hope.

A large part of this understanding I owe to two people: Dostoevsky and Tolkien. In times of hopelessness and despair, one can always find solace in these two giants.