#y'all this moment was HAUNTING

[maruxee]

Rambling abt a very specific moment in ep.10:

the heartbroken soldier looking at Vash through his scope, seeing through it only the monster that took his family

Vash lowering his hands means nothing to him, nor the expression on his face, mirroring his own grief

to Vash, I bet the bullet just punctuated the devastating mess of emotions he already got from the soldier's words alone and the heat of his glare :')

the sight of his parents' supposed killer through his scope, just taking in all his hate without a word or retaliation or self-defence

so easy to pull the trigger

Vash's hand on his fresh wound like he's cradling the bullet close and keeping it in, as he then turns his back to them all and calmly walks away....

did he see the empty look in Vash's eyes through his scope after that??? did the soldier manage to notice it, past the veneer of hatred he held onto so tightly?

the mirrored emptiness left within the soldier as he lowered his gun, after he exacted revenge, left with an outcome he'd probably thought about before ever since Jeneora Rock, and had likely been so sure would feel better than this

[mobius-m-mobius]

OWEN WILSON as FATHER KENT in HAUNTED MANSION (2023)

[pushing500]

I can't get over "This artwork relates to Mechi assaulting Mechi", like, I know Mechi III never got the chance to have his own name, but this just makes for one very confusing sarcophagus.

Oh, right. We also had shamblers to deal with. No matter, they go down pretty easily.

It's been a stressful day so it's no wonder the boys are getting snippy with each other, but... C'mon. You fucking dumbasses. You have the same ancestors!!!! I love them both so much they're so stupid

First | Next | Previous

[fusionsprunt]

dang.. so bee spent all this time getting back to her "home" (as you siad is not really her home) just to never feel anything again? to realize that the pepole she cared about and loved on fusionsprunt and on that planet and the happness she felt while being a robot/ humaniod being she would never feel again..

and she didn't know that reaching the point of becoming the comet again she would feel this way? this is so sad to me. if she cant think anything. if shes just there, like an infinite object, AND SHE CAN NEVER GO BACK EVEN IF SHE WANTED TO? 'PFJBKNSLGPDOJLVDSFJ (MB for the rant starbs, sorry if this makes no sense i panicked)

.

[mad-hunts]

have i ever talked about how barton is genuinely jealous of people who seem happy because he feels so hollow a majority of the time that even when he's 'happy,' he's not really happy? because i just 😭 yeah...

[comediakaidanovsky]

LARIAT

LARIAT

LARIAT

KOJIMA

KOJIMA

KOJIMA

[actual-changeling]

"you're a mean/rude/etc. person" honey i hold back 99% of the things my brain wants to say, if you think i'm not nice now just wait until you fuck with me enough and i go straight for the kill.

i am so good at finding people's weak spots and exploiting them my father almost killed me one time, you don't scare me

[phantomoftheorpheum]

things that i think about instead of sleeping #6

how Glee had a whole entire a cappella group record songs, but you can still blatantly hear Darren Criss singing like 5 different parts at the same time (and also how old I am for this to be crossing my mind in the year 2025)

[softguarnere]

"Please stop looking like my dad, it's freakin' weird," I whisper to my tv screen every time a movie with my dad's celebrity look alike comes on, because apparently this dude is in literally everything

[pyrodolls]

headcannons for cuddling with bayani?

CUDDLING HCS (SUPERFAN! YANDERE BOY X READER)

WARNINGS: sfw, kinda fluff, slight angst, worshipper yandere, kinda insecure bayani as usual, established relationship, lowercase intended, gender neutral reader, i do not condone yanderes

A/N: hey y'all... happy 2025. it feels so weird to say that. i posted my first fic on here a little over a year ago soooo thanks for sticking around with me for so long. i think my writing is still improving and i'm still not very satisfied with a lot of my work, but i really appreciate every single like and reblog i get. thank you guys! (p.s i've actually been writing x reader fanfics since i was 8 years old. you'll never find my old wattpad accounts...) btw i know the banner below is actually from some random manga i've never heard of BUT i was scrolling thru pinterest and saw him and i was like "yeah thats bayani."

BAYANI is utterly clueless on the topic of physical affection. he's completely inexperienced when it comes to anything romantic in general. let's say you suddenly curled up to him while you two watched a movie. he froze and didn't know what to do. his anxieties drove him mad enough to distract him from the movie. should he put his arm around you? where do his legs go? should he lay his head against yours? your comfort is his top priority, so he'd gleefully mold himself into whatever position makes you happy without any regard for his own enjoyment. but should he directly ask you what position you favor? would it paint him as stupid to not already know of your preferred cuddling positions? his worst nightmare is looking like a fool before your eyes.

but as his overthinking worsened, you simply wondered why he froze and took his stillness as a sign that he was uncomfortable. you scooted away from him, and he frowned. did he do something wrong? oh crap, he really did embarrass himself in front of you. maybe he should speak up about it and ask why. if you broke up with him because of it, at least he'd know why.

"did i make you uncomfortable?" he muttered, quiet enough for you to hear but not loud enough to be clear.

"what? no, i moved away because i thought you were uncomfortable. i'm sorry that i did that, i probably should've warned you first..."

silence followed your words, with nothing but the sounds of the television and bayani's quick, uneasy breathing.

after choosing his words carefully in his head, he stammered. "well, i- uh... liked it. i just... didn't know what to do."

"oh, thank goodness. i thought i did something wrong," you laughed. "okay, here's what you do..."

you carefully moved closer to him, resting your body against his and laying your head on his shoulder. then, you moved his arm to wrap around your shoulder and gently pushed his head to the top of yours.

"there we go. see? just like this."

with his chin on top of your head, he directly felt the vibrations of your giggles overwhelming his senses and distracting him from the erratic beating of his heart. it always made him giddy to spend time with you, but being gently directed on how to please you gave him a new, fuzzy sensation in his body that he silently hoped would never end.

his existence is for your happiness. he is nothing but a toy for your enjoyment and amusement. your desires and needs are to be met at your command with no question from him. without you, he has no purpose-- nobody integral to serve. it may seem like a miniscule moment to you. a laughable misunderstanding, even. but to him, he is ashamed of himself for not immediately synchronizing with your needs. he'll remember that moment and take note of it for next time-- it'll haunt him every time he tries something new with you. even if you reassured him that you don't mind, his insecure nature will drive him to absorb every individual second of that memory and dissect it far more seriously than you can imagine. it’ll motivate him to be a better boyfriend for you.

[cl-0v3r]

Shes choking here mind you, she's being choked, you can literally hear it, air being almost impossible to breathe in, yet she STILL reaches out for Elora, screaming for her and trying to get to her, she's not scared for herself at this moment. She just didn't want to lose her close friend.

Do you know how painful it is to scream without having enough air in your lungs?? You can hear the raw, brutal and burn of her voice.

and y'all were a little too quick to judge on why Mel slammed "kino"s face into the wall. No she's not becoming violent, the foe killed her brother and Elora, that's the least insane thing she could do at that moment.

And this poor woman hello??? I'm still not over all these frames.

The fact that she was panicked from DRIPPING WATER just makes me wonder how painful it really was, the torture she'd been through this entire episode was insane. I'm surprised we haven't seen her bruise or bleed at all throughout the entire season, makes me wonder if she has healing abilities.

What kills me the most is that even after being hurt both emotionally AND physically, she still thinks of others rather than herself, she only ever started worrying after she woke up, she was scared, panicking, yet she never speaks of her pains, she was upset over the death of Elora. That's all she thought of, not the horrors of being grabbed, but the horrors of being unable to move and do anything within her abilities to save her friend.

She'd always been like this, ever since the death of that unnamed girl that hangs over her head, death haunts her, that's the price of having been blessed by kindred apparently.

ALSO; I apologize for anyone who'd sent me asks, I've been really busy and ill try my best to get to them as soon as I can ♡

[wrr000]

"Small gestures"

The Destined One x reader - headcanons about communication +really short oneshot at the end

Notes: it's basically @szynkaaa idea!!!!!!!!!!!! go and check their blog NOW!!!!!!!!!!! i'm currently working on another headcanons with the destined one and more serious oneshot, hope y'all will enjoy this

Warnings: fluff, kinda fanon the destined one? english is not my first language so i will prob make some changes later! i also exaggerated the situation in oneshot for the fluff, forgive me

travelling with silent destined one was difficult, but soon you realized that sometimes gestures can express more than words

at first it was hard to communicate, this barrier seemed insurmountable to you

but you quickly noticed that he wasn't trying to push you away or left you behind because of it, no - he tired to show you with small gestures that he actually cared

it started with slowing down a little so you could catch up or glancing at you to make sure you were still walking next to him

gently poking you with his hand or tugging your clothes to get your attention

stretching his arm to prevent you from walking further and signaling you to hide behind him. he always made the same gesture then

finding you a safe spot to hide when he knew a tough fight was coming

when an enemy apeared unexpectedly and you were in the middle of the fight, he bought you some time to escape somewhere safe

grabbing you by forearm to make sure you didn't get hurt (you have to tell him several times that you're fine, boy is worried)

all these little things made you understand him more and at some point you learned how to read his body language, gestures and face expressions; scratching his ear when impatient or confused, characteristically touching his nose when he's thinking and all those kind of things

you just knew what he wanted to say (but couldn't)

during this time, you didn't even notice how much you were getting closer and how much you cared for each other

he never made you feel like a burden and you always tried to help him as much as you can

you could talk to him about anything and he would listen to you carefully, making sure you feel comfortable

the destined one never would have thought that he would meet someone like you(and fall in love) during his journey

of course it isn't a flawless relationship because it's still a cheeky monkey that cannot stand 5 seconds without getting into a fight, but it's a story for another time

---

Leaving that cursed land of rats was something you had been waiting for a long time. Almost from the moment you arrived there. Sandstorms were hard to survive, let alone the mad rat king and his two sons. However, you quickly missed the sandy landscapes, because the next stop was a land covered with ice.

Journey to the next Relic wasn't easy. The snow was falling heavily, limiting your vision. The horizon disappeared, you could only see The Destined One figure forcing his way through the high layer of snow. You felt that your shoes were already soaked along with the lower part of your clothes.

Even though you were following the path beaten by your companion, you were moving slowly. You sighed heavily at the thought that you probably still had a long way to go and you could only dream about a break. How nice it would be to sit by the fire and warm yourself. Suddenly various memories started coming back to haunt you here, in the middle of nowhere.

You were pulled out from your thoughts by the familiar warmth. You looked to your left and met his shining eyes, staring into your red face. The Destined One was standing next to you, wrapping his arm around you. A slight smile appeared on his face.

"Sorry", you said quietly. "I'm slowing us down"

But he just shook his head as if he wanted to say that you were talking nonsense. With a firm move, he pulled you closer to him. Your bodies touched even more, you felt a pleasant warmth radiating from him. His hot breath spread across your frozen place. Even know you could feel his unique, but nice scent.

He noticed your tiredness and how chilly you were. You had been shivering from the cold for a while now. He wished he had something to cover you with, but all he could offer was his arm. You appreciated his concern and looking out for you. That alone made you not feel so poorly anymore.

"Thank you, much better now", you said with a smile. "We can go"

He nodded, clealry pleased with the answer. You to were walking together now, hugging each other. The road didn't seem so hard anymore and the snow slowly stopped failing. The horizon became clearer, revealing hugh mountains and old temples. You finally felt like you had made progress. Previous difficulties became only unpleasant memories.

The closer you got, the more the weather was getting better. It was still snowing, but it wasn't even that cold anymore. And yet you still walked together, hugged to each other, neither of you thinking about pulling away. While admiring the views, you told him some old story from your childhood about a hard winter in your village. When you weren't looking, he was admiring you in silence, enjoying the moment.

[mobius-m-mobius]

On a less depressing note, the cast and crew's various behind the scene stuff makes Owen look like a cryptic that they sometimes manage to catch on film?? Half of those are like "oh look, Tom is attracting his attention. Quick, snap a shot!" and half is like "we took a group photo and this blurry smiling shape in the background proves that Owen Wilson is real".

Anon bless you for giving me anything at all to think about besides the Shakespearean tragedy that is the Lokius romance during this trying time 😂💖

Honestly you might have some powers of your own since normally you'd be spot on about Owen lowkey being a beautiful fever dream of talent that bikes onto set to enhance everything and everyone in his path but that behind the scenes pic Ke Huy Quan dropped today is possibly the cutest and most importantly clearest proof we have that OCW's oh so very real lmao, talk about timing 🥰

[pandapetals]

New Beginnings

Eight months after the miscarriage, Logan finds something that brings both of you hope.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, angst, miscarriage mentioned, found family, mentions of death and blood, some fluff towards the end, trigger warning

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

Everything was a blur as Logan ran alongside Ororo through the smoldering remains of the village. The anti-mutant group had left their mark—fires burning through homes, screams echoing in the distance, blood staining the streets. Logan had seen carnage before, more times than he cared to remember, but it never got easier. No matter how many times he witnessed it, the devastation always gnawed at something deep inside him.

“Just get as many people out as possible!” Scott yelled as he dashed past, ushering a group of frightened kids toward safety.

Ororo nodded, extending her arms to summon rain that hissed and sizzled as it met the persistent flames. Logan stood beside her, silent, his keen senses scanning the chaos. But then he heard it—a sound so faint it almost slipped past him. A small, muffled cry.

“Logan, let’s move—” Ororo began, but she stopped when she saw his head snap in the direction of the sound.

"Go on without me," Logan muttered his attention already pulled away.

“Logan���where are you going?” Ororo called, but he barely raised a hand in acknowledgment as he started walking, his steps heavy yet purposeful. The sound—it was faint, a whisper through the destruction—was tugging at him, leading him.

He wove through the ruins, stepping over charred wood and shattered glass, his ears straining. The crying grew clearer the closer he got until he found himself standing in front of a small wooden cabin, or what was left of it. Half of it had collapsed, the other half barely standing, its roof caved in. The cold air rushed through the broken walls, carrying with it the faint sound of a baby crying.

Logan’s breath hitched, a flicker of something unnameable settling in his chest. 

Carefully, he stepped through the doorway, scanning the wreckage. The floor was littered with debris—splintered wood, shattered dishes, a child’s toy half-melted from the fire. His sharp eyes caught sight of a small, woven basket tucked under what remained of a scorched bedframe.

He knelt, heart pounding against his ribs as he reached for the basket. The crying grew louder as he pulled it free. Peeling back the tattered, soot-streaked blanket, he froze.

Inside was a baby—a tiny girl with chubby, tear-streaked cheeks, her face scrunched up as she wailed. She looked so small and fragile. Logan’s breath caught as he gently scooped her into his arms, his large hands cradling her with a care that might’ve shocked anyone who knew him. Her cries quieted almost immediately, her big, watery eyes blinking up at him.

Logan’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. She had stopped crying the second she was in his arms as if some instinct told her she was safe. She blinked again, and for a moment, Logan swore he saw something familiar in her gaze—those wide, hazel eyes, flecked with gold, looking at him like she knew him.

“No… can’t be,” he muttered, shaking his head. His jaw clenched, and he tore his eyes away from hers, staring instead at the blanket she’d been wrapped in. It was ragged and soot-stained, but it smelled faintly of home—of parents who were nowhere to be found.

The weight of the moment pressed down on him. He wasn’t sure if it was the chaos still raging outside, the vulnerability of the little girl in his arms, or the haunting ache of all the children and families he hadn’t been able to save over the years, but something inside him cracked. His protective instincts surged to the surface, raw and overwhelming.

“You’re alright now,” he muttered softly almost as if he were trying to convince himself. His thumb brushed gently over her tiny hand, which instinctively curled around his finger. The baby let out a soft coo, and Logan felt something unfamiliar bloom in his chest.

Ororo’s voice broke the moment as she called from outside. “Logan!”

He turned toward the door, the baby tucked securely in his arms, her little head resting against his chest. “Found somethin’,” he called back, his voice thick with emotion he didn’t quite know how to process yet.

When Ororo stepped inside and saw him holding the baby, her eyes widened in surprise. “Logan…”

“She’s alone,” he said, his voice quieter now, his gaze locked on the infant. “No parents. Nothin’. Just her.” His jaw tightened, a protective growl almost slipping out as he added, “I’m not leavin’ her.”

Ororo’s expression softened, her eyes lingering on Logan in a way that spoke of quiet surprise. Logan stood there, cradling the baby like he’d been doing it his whole life, though his jaw was tight, and his eyes betrayed the storm of conflict raging inside him.

“Alright,” Ororo said gently, her voice pulling Logan from his thoughts. “We’ll see if anyone knows anything.”

Logan gave a curt nod, his hands instinctively tightening their hold on the tiny bundle in his arms. He didn’t mean to grip her so protectively, but the thought of letting her go—even for a moment—sent a pang of unease through him. “Yeah,” he murmured though a strange tenderness lingered in it.

As they stepped out of the ruined cabin together, the chaos in the village had begun to quiet, but the air was still heavy with smoke and the low hum of grief. Logan’s gaze dropped to the baby, her face now peaceful as she slept soundly against his chest. She looked so small, so fragile, and yet she had somehow calmed the moment he’d held her. Her tiny hand curled against his finger like it was her lifeline. He swore, just for a second, that her tiny features reminded him of you.

He shook his head, his brows furrowing. Get a grip, Logan. This wasn’t his kid. This baby was someone else’s, a victim of this senseless attack, and yet... the pull he felt in his chest was undeniable. Protective, raw, and something deeper he couldn’t quite put into words.

When they reached the center of the village, Scott was standing among the survivors, his arms crossed, his expression tense as he organized the final efforts to evacuate. He turned at the sound of their footsteps, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the small figure cradled in Logan’s arms.

“What’s that?” Scott asked, his voice tinged with confusion as he nodded toward the baby.

Logan’s jaw tightened, but it was Ororo who answered. “Logan found her in one of the cabins on the edge of the village. Did anyone mention a missing baby?” Her eyes scanned the area, her brow furrowed as if hoping someone would rush forward with answers.

Scott shook his head, his expression grim. “No, everyone I helped didn’t mention anything about a baby. Most of the families I spoke to are accounted for.” He paused, his gaze flicking to the baby. “We can take her back to the mansion. Maybe the Professor can help us figure out where she belongs.”

Logan nodded silently, though his grip on the baby didn’t loosen. As much as he hated to admit it, the idea of letting someone else figure this out twisted something deep inside him. She’d stopped crying the moment he’d picked her up, and the thought of handing her off to someone else made his stomach churn. But this wasn’t about him.

“Here, let me,” Logan said, shifting slightly as if to pass the baby to Ororo. “I’ll stay behind, make sure there’s no one else in the village.”

But the moment Ororo’s arms brushed against the baby, her eyes fluttered open, and she let out a piercing wail, her tiny face scrunching up in distress. Logan froze, his heart squeezing at the sound.

“I don’t think she wants that,” Ororo joked softly, her gaze softening as she watched the baby squirm in Logan’s arms.

Logan huffed, his frustration barely masking the tug of something warmer. “Well, I can’t just take her with me,” he argued, though his words lacked their usual bite.

Scott stepped forward, holding his hands out. “Here, let me. Nathan loves it when I hold him. Babies can sense calm.” He smirked, clearly teasing Logan.

Scott took the baby, her cries only growing louder as her tiny fists flailed in protest. Logan’s lips twitched into half a smirk, half a grimace. “Guess calm doesn’t work with everyone, huh, Summers?” he said, his tone edged with dry humor.

Scott’s confidence faltered as he handed the baby back quickly, muttering, “Alright, fine. Not a fan of me, I get it.”

The baby quieted instantly as she nestled back into Logan’s chest, her tiny body curling against his like it was the only place she wanted to be. Logan blinked, staring down at her in disbelief.

“I think she likes you,” Ororo said with a knowing smile, her voice teasing but gentle.

Logan looked down at the baby, his rugged face softening. Her little hand reached out, gripping his finger again, and his throat tightened. “Well,” he muttered, his voice thick, “I can’t exactly blame her. I’m the only one here who knows how to carry her right.”

Ororo chuckled, sharing a look with Scott, an unspoken understanding between them. They saw it too—the way Logan held her, the way he softened just a fraction when she looked at him. This wasn’t just about finding the baby’s family anymore. Something had shifted.

Logan glanced back at the baby one last time before nodding toward the jet. “Alright,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Let’s take her back. The Professor will figure somethin’ out.”

Logan stepped onto the Blackbird, the weight in his arms felt heavier than it should’ve. The baby had settled back into his chest. Her steady breathing was the only sound cutting through the distant echoes of the chaos they had left behind in the village.

But Logan’s thoughts weren’t on the charred ruins or even on the anti-mutant group they had been sent to stop. His mind was spiraling—back to you, back to the loss you had both endured, back to the raw, untended wound that still lingered between you.

What if this baby—so fragile, so small—triggered those memories for you? What if taking her back to the mansion opened up wounds you were still healing from? 

Logan’s jaw tightened, his usual resolve cracking under the weight of his thoughts. He wasn’t sure he could take seeing that look in your eyes again—the same look you’d had when you sobbed in his arms after the miscarriage. The memory hit him like a punch to the gut, and he instinctively held the baby a little closer, as if shielding her from his fears.

“Logan,” Scott’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. He was standing near the cockpit, his expression unreadable but pointed. “You coming or are you planning to stay out there?”

Logan grunted in response, moving to take a seat near the back of the jet. He avoided Scott’s gaze, focusing instead on the baby in his arms as she stirred slightly. He muttered something low, soothing, and she settled again, her tiny face pressing against his chest.

Scott didn’t move. Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned slightly against the edge of the cockpit door, watching Logan for a moment longer than Logan was comfortable with.

“What?” Logan finally snapped, his voice low but tinged with frustration.

Scott raised an eyebrow, then pushed off the door and walked closer, his movements slow and deliberate. “You’re worried,” he said simply, his tone unusually neutral.

Logan scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t get worried, Summers.”

“Right,” Scott said dryly, taking a seat across from him. “And yet, you’re holding that baby like the world’s about to come for her any second.”

Logan’s grip instinctively tightened, his knuckles going white against the edge of the blanket. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he muttered, though the edge in his voice betrayed him.

Scott’s gaze softened, surprising Logan enough to look up. “It’s okay, you know,” Scott said quietly. “To care. To worry. It doesn’t make you weak, Logan.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his hazel eyes narrowing as he tried to deflect. “You sound like Chuck now. I don’t need a lecture, Summers.”

Scott leaned back, his arms crossing loosely. “I’m not giving you a lecture. I’m just saying… I’ve been there.”

Logan’s brows furrowed, his confusion clear even through his gruff exterior.

“With Nathan,” Scott continued, his voice lower now. “When Jean and I were expecting him… I was terrified. I didn’t think I’d be enough for him, for her. After we lost the first one…” He paused, swallowing hard as his usually stoic mask cracked just slightly. “I thought the grief would break us. But it didn’t. We were okay. Eventually.”

Logan’s throat tightened. He looked down at the baby, who was now peacefully dozing against him. “What if she’s not okay?” he asked finally, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. “What if we’re not?”

Scott’s expression softened further. “You and I both know you’re tougher than that, Logan. And so is she. You’ve been through hell and back, and you’re still here. You’ll make it work.”

Logan’s gaze flicked up to meet Scott’s, a rare moment of unspoken understanding passing between them. Scott’s words didn’t fix the knot of fear twisting in his chest, but they helped loosen it—just enough to breathe.

With a quiet grunt, Logan looked down at the baby, his thumb brushing lightly against her tiny fist. “She stopped crying the second I picked her up,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Like she knew…”

Scott nodded slowly. “Maybe she does.”

Logan didn’t respond, his thoughts already drifting back to you. He could picture your face, the way your eyes lit up when you smiled, the warmth you brought into his life without even trying. He couldn’t shake the worry that bringing this baby home would remind you of what you’d lost. But deep down, there was a small, fragile hope—a flicker of light in the darkness—that this could also be something new. Something healing. Something for both of you to hold onto.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before meeting Scott’s gaze again. “You better not tell anyone about this conversation.”

Scott smirked faintly, his usual smugness tempered by something softer. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

As the Blackbird took off, Logan sat quietly, the baby cradled against his chest. He didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in months, he was willing to hope. When the mansion came into view, he tightened his hold on the baby, his resolve hardening.

Whatever came next, he’d face it—with you by his side. Because if this little girl was meant to find him then maybe she was meant to find both of you.

𓂃

Once inside the mansion, the tension in Logan’s chest seemed to grow heavier, the walls of the grand space pressing in on him as he cradled the tiny baby against his chest. Scott, Ororo and he stood in the living room, the warmth of the fire in the nearby hearth doing little to ease the weight of the moment.

Jean entered moments later, little Nathan trailing behind her with his usual boundless energy. Her steps faltered slightly when her gaze landed on the baby nestled in Logan’s arms, her expression shifting from surprise to a tender understanding.

“We found her abandoned,” Scott explained, scooping Nathan into his arms when the boy tried to dart toward Logan and the baby, clearly curious. Nathan giggled, squirming in his father’s grasp, oblivious to the tension in the room.

Jean’s eyes softened as they flicked between Logan and the baby, her voice gentle. “She must be hungry. I have some formula left upstairs. I’ll go prepare a bottle.”

Logan gave her a quick nod of thanks, though his eyes never left the baby. As Jean disappeared up the stairs, Ororo stepped closer, her gaze calm and reassuring. “Logan, you need to go talk to her,” Ororo said softly, her hands reaching out to take the baby from his arms.

Logan’s grip instinctively tightened for just a second before he forced himself to let go, his jaw clenching. The baby squirmed as Ororo carefully cradled her, a small cry already forming on her lips. Logan winced at the sound, his protective instincts kicking in again, but Ororo gave him a pointed look. “The baby will be fine, Logan. Go.”

He hesitated, his boots rooted to the floor, but finally nodded, running a hand through his hair before turning toward the hallway that led to your shared room. Each step felt heavier than the last, his mind racing. What if you couldn’t handle this? What if it brought back everything you’d been trying so hard to move past? The thought of hurting you again made his chest tighten.

When he reached the door to your room, Logan paused, his hand resting on the doorknob as if it weighed a thousand pounds. With a deep breath, he finally stepped inside. 

You were sitting at your desk, fingers flying over your keyboard, a mess of papers scattered around you. The faint glow from your laptop illuminated your face, and despite the chaos of the workspace, Logan couldn’t help but feel a flicker of calm at the sight of you.

Your eyes darted up when you heard him, a teasing smile spreading across your lips as you stood. “I was wondering when you’d get back. Started to worry,” you joked, walking over to him. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling back, your hands brushing his arms. “And look at that, you made it back in one piece.”

Logan’s lips quirked into a faint smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The usual gruff confidence you knew so well had been replaced by something uncertain. The shift in his demeanor made your smile fade as you studied him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently, your tone laced with concern as you searched his face for an answer.

Logan let out a slow breath, pulling a hand free to rub the back of his neck. “We… found somethin’—someone—on the mission,” he began, his voice low and steady. “A baby. She was abandoned in one of the cabins. There was no sign of her parents… no one claimed her.”

Your heart sank at his words, your body teasing. “A baby?” you whispered.

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again. “I didn’t know what to do, so we brought her back here. She… she’s just a baby, sweetheart. Tiny. Fragile.” His voice wavered slightly, and he took a step closer to you. “When I picked her up, she stopped cryin’. Like she… trusted me or somethin’. I don’t know. It messed with my head.”

Your chest tightened as you watched him, his usual gruff demeanor softened. “Logan…” 

He held up a hand, cutting you off gently. “Look, I don’t want to push anything on you. I don’t want you to think I’m hopin’ for somethin’ or tryin’ to replace what we lost. That ain’t it. I just…” He trailed off, his gaze flicking to the door as if he could still hear the baby’s faint cries. “I needed to tell you. I needed you to know. But if this is too much—if you don’t wanna see her—I’ll understand.”

The room was filled with silence, the weight of his words settling between you. You felt a storm of emotions swirling inside you—grief, confusion, a flicker of something you didn’t dare name yet. “I don’t know, Logan,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can handle it. What if…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, your throat tightening.

“You’re stronger than you think, darlin’,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “And I’m not gonna let you go through this alone. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together. But you need to see her. Just… see her. That’s all I’m askin’.”

You searched his eyes, seeing the quiet plea there, the vulnerability he rarely let show. Finally, you nodded, your voice barely audible. “Okay.”

Logan’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he gave your hands a gentle squeeze. “She’s with Ororo,” he said, his voice steadier now. “She’s… somethin’ else. I think you’ll see what I mean.”

Logan took your hand, his grip firm but tender, as you both descended the stairs. The silence between you was heavy with unspoken thoughts. You couldn’t ignore the flicker of uncertainty stirring in your chest. This was just a baby, you reminded yourself, but the way Logan talked and acted… it felt like something more, something that scared you. What if this was just another path to disappointment? What if the cracks in your heart grew deeper with hope that led nowhere?

Logan glanced at you, his hazel eyes soft, but they carried their own storm. You couldn’t tell who he was trying to reassure more—himself or you. The way he held your hand told you he was wrestling with the same doubts, the same fears.

When you entered the living room, the sight hit you like a wave. Jean sat on the couch, cradling the baby girl in her arms as she gently fed her a bottle. Nathan sat beside her, his wide, curious eyes fixated on the infant. The scene was warm, peaceful even, but it stirred something deep within you.

Jean looked up as you walked in, offering a soft, warm smile. "She’s doing better now," she said, her voice quiet, as if not to disturb the fragile calm. "She’s not crying anymore."

Logan’s presence shifted, his protectiveness already kicking in as he moved closer. “She was screaming her head off earlier,” he said, his voice gruff but lined with tenderness. His eyes were locked on the baby as though she were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

Jean chuckled, adjusting the bottle in the baby’s mouth. "She was until I gave her this," she said, glancing down at the little girl with a fond expression. Then she looked back at Logan, her smile fading slightly, replaced by something deeper. “But I can sense something else. She… wants you, Logan.”

Jean stood, moving to hand the baby to him, but Logan hesitated, his eyes darting to you like he needed your permission. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as your gaze locked onto the baby. There was something about her, something undeniable. You told yourself it was just your mind playing tricks, your heart reaching for something it shouldn’t, but you couldn’t ignore the pull in your chest.

She looked… familiar, even though that was impossible. Her tiny face, soft and full of innocence, and her dark, thick hair—what little there was of it—felt like it belonged. Your throat tightened, and you weren’t sure if it was wonder or fear threatening to choke you.

“Sweetheart…” Logan’s voice broke through your daze, gentle but urging. He had crossed the room to stand in front of you, his body close enough to shield you from everything else. His hazel eyes searched yours, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were standing on the edge of something monumental.

You slowly nodded and Logan reached out to take the baby from Jean. The moment his hands settled on her tiny frame, she stopped suckling on the bottle and looked up at him. Her wide, bright eyes blinked at Logan, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. They were strikingly similar to his own—soft hazel, framed with a kind of quiet wonder. He tried to convince himself it was just his mind playing tricks on him, a cruel echo of the past, but the connection he felt at that moment was undeniable.

“She looks at you like she already knows you,” Jean said softly, a faint smile on her lips. Her words carried a weight that sent a shiver down your spine.

Logan shifted his hold on the baby, his rough fingers brushing against her tiny hand. “I don’t—” He stopped himself, his voice cracking slightly. He glanced at you again, his vulnerability laid bare. "I don’t know what this is, but it feels… different.”

Jean cleared her throat, her expression shifting into something serious. “There’s something else,” she said, looking between the two of you. “I didn’t want to say anything earlier because I wasn’t sure, but… I’m picking up on something from her mind.”

You blinked, snapping out of your daze. “What do you mean?”

Jean’s gaze softened. “She’s a mutant,” she said gently. “It’s subtle, but it’s there. Her power—it’s healing. When she feels connected to someone, she can heal minor injuries. Cuts, bruises… even small aches.”

You stared at her, the words hitting you like a weight in your chest. Logan’s arms instinctively tightened around the baby, as if he were shielding her from a world that might hurt her. He looked down at the little girl, his thumb brushing gently against her tiny fist.

Healing. It was such a simple, beautiful gift. One that only deepened the pull you felt toward her. Your mind reeled, but somewhere beneath the chaos was a quiet, steady feeling that this—her—was meant to be.

Jean’s voice softened even more. “It happens unintentionally. She doesn’t control it yet, but… she just healed a scratch on Nathan’s arm. I think she’s been trying to connect with you, Logan.”

Logan swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he turned to you. His hazel eyes, filled with emotion, searched yours. “Do you… do you want to hold her?” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly.

You hesitated, your eyes flicking down to the baby nestled in Logan’s arms. She looked so tiny, so innocent, and yet the thought of holding her felt right. Slowly, you nodded, stepping closer.

Logan shifted carefully, cradling her as though she were made of glass before gently placing her into your waiting arms. The weight of her against you was lighter than you expected, yet it felt so significant, like holding something precious that could change everything. You looked down at her tiny face, her round cheeks flushed as her eyes fluttered open. For a brief moment, her gaze darted between Logan and you, her bright hazel eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“She’s so precious,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you adjusted her against your chest. You held her cautiously, almost afraid to move, worried that any wrong gesture would disturb her fragile peace. Your heart hammered in your chest as you braced for her to cry or squirm.

But she didn’t.

Instead, her tiny hand moved from where it had rested near the bottle, her delicate fingers brushing against your shirt before gripping it with surprising strength. You froze, tears welling in your eyes as you felt her warmth against you. Her tiny lips curved into the faintest smile, and you swore it felt like your chest cracked open, all your reservations melting into the air.

“She must like you,” Logan said softly. He stepped closer, his hand brushing over your back as if grounding you both. “Because she wouldn’t even let Scott hold her.”

You let out a shaky laugh, a single sob escaping your lips as you looked down at her. “She’s perfect,” you whispered, cradling her closer. Her tiny fist tugged at your shirt again, and something about her touch sent warmth through you that was hard to describe—comforting, but also terrifying.

Logan reached out, his large, rough hand gently brushing against the baby’s cheek. She cooed softly, leaning into his touch before looking back at you. “See?” he said, his voice tinged with awe. “She’s trying to connect with you now.”

You didn’t respond, unsure of what to say. The weight of it all—the connection she seemed to have with both of you, the impossibility of the situation—felt overwhelming. You wanted to believe this was meant to be, but a flicker of fear lingered in your chest, whispering warnings of heartbreak and loss.

Before you could speak, footsteps approached, and Ororo and Scott entered the room. Ororo’s gaze softened the moment she saw the baby nestled in your arms, while Scott frowned slightly, his eyes flicking between you and Logan.

“What’s going on here?” Scott asked, crossing his arms as he studied the scene.

“She’s… connecting with them,” Jean explained gently, stepping aside to give them a better view. “I think there’s something more to this. She’s a mutant, and she’s already started to bond with Logan and… her.” Jean nodded toward you with a small smile.

Ororo stepped closer, her eyes warm as she looked at the baby. “She seems so at peace with both of you,” she remarked, her voice soft. “It’s like she knows.”

Logan reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as if to steady himself. “She won’t even let anyone else hold her,” he said, his tone a mix of pride and protectiveness. “It’s like… she chose us.”

Scott’s frown deepened, though there was no malice in his expression—only concern. “Look, I get it,” he said, his voice measured. “She’s a baby, and it’s easy to get attached. But you two need to be realistic. We don’t know anything about her parents, where she came from, or even why she was abandoned. This… this could get complicated.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, and you felt the tension in his grip. He was seconds away from snapping back, but before he could, Ororo placed a hand on Scott’s arm. “Scott,” she said gently, “just look at them.”

Scott’s eyes softened slightly as he glanced between you and Logan, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of understanding cross his face. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just saying… talk to the Professor first. Make sure this is something you both really want to pursue.”

You nodded, glancing down at the baby as she let out a soft coo. “We will,” you said quietly. “But… it’s hard to explain. It feels like she was meant to find us.”

Scott met Logan’s gaze, his expression shifting into something more sincere. “If this is what you both want, then… I hope it works out. Just don’t rush into it, okay?”

Logan nodded reluctantly, his protective instincts still flaring, but he squeezed your hand for reassurance. 

Ororo and Scott stepped back, giving you both some space as the baby let out a soft yawn, her tiny hand still gripping your shirt. Logan leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple. “She already loves you,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

You looked up at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Logan," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Scott’s right. We can’t just rush into this. We don’t even know if her parents are alive or—" Your words faltered, catching in your throat as the weight of the uncertainty pressed down on you.

Logan held your gaze, the flicker of emotion in his hazel eyes betraying the composed mask he was trying to maintain. He reached out, his rough hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I know,” he said softly. “I’m not sayin’ we just take her and call it a day. I just… I need to know. I need to be sure.”

You bit your lip, glancing down at the baby nestled in your arms. Her little chest rose and fell peacefully as she slept. The sight tugged at your heart, and yet, the weight of responsibility gnawed at the edges of your mind. You couldn’t let emotion cloud the bigger picture, no matter how much a part of you already felt tethered to her.

“Alright,” you finally murmured. “Let’s talk to the Professor.”

Logan nodded, his jaw tightening as if bracing himself for what was to come. He placed his hand lightly on your lower back, guiding you toward Xavier’s office. Every step felt heavier than the last as if the weight of the decision ahead pressed harder with each passing moment. Logan remained quiet, his usual gruffness replaced by an uncharacteristic tenderness, his hand never leaving your back.

When you reached the Professor’s office, Logan knocked once before pushing the door open. Xavier was already waiting, his hands folded in his lap, his expression calm yet curious. His gaze softened the moment he noticed the baby in your arms.

“I was wondering when you’d come to see me about the baby,” Xavier said, his voice soothing.

Logan furrowed his brow, his grip on your back tightening slightly. “You already know?” he asked.

Xavier gave a small smile, tilting his head slightly. “You can’t bring something so… profound into this mansion without me sensing it. Please, sit.”

You and Logan exchanged a glance before settling into the chairs in front of Xavier’s desk. The baby stirred slightly in your arms but didn’t wake. Logan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together.

“We found her during the mission,” Logan began, his voice low but steady. “She was alone in a cabin. No sign of her parents, no one claimin’ her. Jean says she’s a mutant. She’s got some kind of… healing ability.”

Xavier’s eyes flickered with interest as he leaned forward slightly. “Healing, you say?”

Logan nodded, his jaw tightening. “She’s connected to us. She won’t let anyone else hold her without cryin’. It’s like…” He trailed off, struggling to put the inexplicable connection into words.

“Like she’s meant to be with you,” Xavier finished softly, his gaze shifting to you.

You swallowed hard, the knot in your chest tightening. “We just… we need to know if her parents are out there. If they’re alive. We can’t—” Your voice broke slightly, and Logan’s hand found yours, his thumb brushing soothing circles over your knuckles. “We can’t just assume it’s up to us.”

Xavier regarded you both for a long moment before nodding. “Of course. If her parents are still out there, it’s only right to find them. But to do so, I’ll need to delve into her mind, to see if there’s anything she remembers—even subconsciously.”

Logan tensed beside you, his protective instincts flaring. “Is that safe for her?” he asked, his tone edged with worry.

Xavier gave a reassuring smile. “It won’t harm her. I’ll only be looking for surface-level memories, nothing invasive.”

You hesitated before finally nodding. “Alright. If it helps us figure out where she belongs… do it.”

Xavier wheeled closer, his calm presence filling the room. He reached out gently, his fingers just brushing the baby’s forehead. For a moment, the room was silent, the air heavy with anticipation. Logan’s hand tightened around yours, his tension palpable as he watched the Professor.

Finally, Xavier’s eyes fluttered open, a mixture of emotions crossing his face. “Her parents…” he began, his voice tinged with sadness. “They called her Laura.” 

You felt your breath catch, the name settling in your chest like a quiet weight. “Laura,” you whispered, looking down at the baby in your arms. It felt right as if the name had always lingered in your mind. 

Logan’s jaw clenched, his protective instinct only growing stronger. “What happened to them?” he asked, his voice rough.

Xavier hesitated before continuing. “It wasn’t clear, but they were in danger. As you saw, the anti-mutant attackers destroyed their village. They were trying to protect her, keep her safe by hiding her.” He paused, “They…they loved her very much.” 

A tear slipped down your cheek as you looked at Logan, his expression a mixture of grief and determination. “So, what now?” you asked quietly.

Xavier straightened slightly. “I’ll use Cerebro to search for any other relatives or connections, but… if there’s no one else, the decision will fall to you.”

Logan’s hand tightened on yours, his hazel eyes meeting yours with an unspoken question. You felt the same pull you’d felt from the moment you held her—a sense that this was more than coincidence. It felt like fate.

𓂃

Logan and you sat side by side on the worn couch, the soft glow of a table lamp casting a warm light across the living room. In the bassinet beside you, Laura slept soundly, her tiny chest rising and falling with each delicate breath. The peaceful silence of the room felt surreal, as though the universe had pressed pause, just for the three of you. Neither of you had left her side since Logan had brought her into the mansion, and despite the chaos of the day, the thought of her being here had begun to settle into something strangely comforting.

You glanced down at your intertwined hands, your thumb idly tracing circles against Logan’s rough, calloused skin. “I–I don’t know how to put this,” you began, hesitating as the words lodged in your throat. You swallowed hard, glancing at Logan. “Is it… weird that I feel like she looks like us?” Your voice was soft, tinged with uncertainty.

Logan turned his head toward you, his hazel eyes catching yours. “It’s not weird,” he murmured. “When I found her, I thought the same thing.” He shifted slightly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I thought she looked like you—right from the start.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips, but it wavered. “And her eyes,” you whispered, glancing at the bassinet. The baby’s tiny hand had curled into a loose fist, resting against her cheek. “They mirror yours. It’s like… like she’s already part of us.”

Logan exhaled deeply, his free hand running through his hair. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he admitted. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my life, but this… it’s different.” He paused, his gaze shifting to Laura. “When I picked her up, it was like somethin’ in me just… clicked. Like I had to protect her. Like I couldn’t walk away, even if I tried.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your fingers squeezing his hand. “It feels so strange, doesn’t it? Like we’re meant to have her here but at the same time… I don’t want to let myself hope too much. What if it’s not meant to be?”

Logan tilted his head down, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. “I get it,” he murmured. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself either. But…” He hesitated, his voice faltering for a moment before he continued. “She’s here now. And she’s safe. That’s what matters.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but they weren’t entirely from sadness. “It’s comforting, isn’t it?” you said softly. “Like maybe… maybe this is how it was supposed to happen. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it feels like she’s already a part of us.”

Logan nodded, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. “It’s scary as hell,” he admitted, his voice raw. “But yeah… it feels right.” His eyes softened as he glanced at the bassinet again, his lips curving into a small tender smile. “She’s already got me wrapped around her little finger.”

You softly laughed, your voice laced with emotion. “She’s got me too,” you whispered, your head still resting against his shoulder.

“There you are,” Xavier’s calm, measured voice broke the silence as he wheeled into the room, his sharp eyes softening as they landed on the bassinet. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I see you’re both smitten by her.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, though the emotions flickering in his hazel eyes betrayed the vulnerability behind them. “Guess you could say that,” he said. He glanced down at the sleeping baby, gently stroking her cheek. “She’s got a way of growin’ on you.”

Xavier nodded knowingly, folding his hands in his lap as his expression grew more serious. “I’ve completed my search using Cerebro,” he began his tone gentle but laced with the weight of what he was about to say. “I… wasn’t able to locate her parents. From what I could glean, it seems they perished in the attack on the village.”

Your breath hitched, your hand instinctively moving to cover your mouth. Logan froze, his jaw tightening as he looked down at Laura, his thumb brushing softly over her small fist. The room seemed to hold its breath.

“There’s more,” Xavier continued, his gaze steady. “I reached out to some of the survivors from the village. They… were hesitant at first, but once they understood she was safe here, they gave their approval for her to remain at the mansion. They believe this is the best place for her.”

A mix of emotions swirled in your chest—grief for the loss of her parents, relief that the villagers had entrusted her to you, and something deeper that felt like fate settling quietly into place. 

“She’s really alone, isn’t she?” you whispered, your voice breaking as you looked at Logan.

Logan let out a heavy sigh, his grip on Laura’s tiny hand tightening ever so slightly as though he could shield her from the cruel reality of the world. “Not anymore,” he said firmly, his voice low but resolute. He looked up at Xavier, his gaze fierce. “She’s got us now.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a tear slipping down your cheek as you reached over to squeeze his free hand. “Logan,” you murmured, your voice trembling with emotion. “Are you sure?”

He turned to you, his expression softening as his thumb brushed your knuckles. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, sweetheart,” he said, his voice raw but filled with conviction. “I don’t know why, but… she feels like she’s already ours.”

Xavier watched the two of you quietly, his wise eyes filled with something akin to approval. “Raising a child is no small task,” he said after a moment. “But I see the love and determination in both of you. I have no doubt that Laura will thrive here under your care.”

Logan nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “We’ll do whatever it takes. She deserves a chance—a family.”

“And she’ll have one,” you added, your voice steadier now as you gently placed your hand on Laura’s tiny foot, marveling at how small and fragile she was. “We’ll make sure she’s safe and loved.”

Xavier’s smile returned, a quiet, knowing warmth radiating from him. “Then it’s decided,” he said simply. “Laura will stay here, and she will be raised with the love and care she deserves.”

Logan glanced down at Laura, taking her into his arms. She stirred slightly, her tiny fingers curling around the edge of his flannel shirt. He let out a soft chuckle, his voice a low rumble. “Looks like you’re stuck with us, kid.”

You laughed softly through your tears, leaning your head against Logan’s shoulder as you both gazed down at the baby girl who had already stolen your heart.

𓂃

You had never realized how fast time flew by until a week had blinked by, each day blurring into the next as you and Logan adjusted to life as new parents. Caring for Laura had turned your world upside down in the most beautiful, chaotic way. The first few days had been a scramble—borrowing whatever Jean and Scott had left over from when Nathan was a baby: oversized onesies that swallowed Laura’s tiny frame, an old bassinet, and some hand-me-down bottles. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked… until Logan decided to take matters into his own hands.

One evening, after realizing you were running low on baby supplies, Logan announced with a gruff determination that he was going to the store. You’d laughed at his insistence, thinking he’d return with just the basics. Instead, Logan came back armed like a man ready to conquer fatherhood: bags overflowing with formula, diapers, blankets, and enough baby clothes to fill an entire dresser.

“Logan,” you said, half-laughing as you rifled through one of the sacks, pulling out tiny shoes, a pack of pacifiers, and a set of colorful bibs. “I don’t think we need all of this. Did you leave anything in the store for anyone else?”

He smirked, leaning casually against the kitchen counter as if he hadn’t just wiped out an entire baby aisle. “Figured better safe than sorry, darlin’,” he said, crossing his arms, clearly proud of himself.

You paused when you pulled out a purple onesie with pandas on it. It was so adorable it made your heart squeeze. “Okay,” you murmured, holding it up. “Maybe we did need this one.”

Logan’s smirk softened into a grin, and he pushed off the counter to walk over to you, slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest. “Knew you’d like that one,” he murmured.

You tilted your head to look up at him, your smile growing as you held up the tiny panda onesie again for emphasis. “You’re such a big softy, you know that? You act all tough, but then you come home with this,” you teased.

Logan smirked, leaning down to press a warm kiss to your temple before resting his head on your shoulder. His arms around your waist felt protective, anchoring you in his steady presence.

“What? No comeback?” you quipped, arching a brow as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “Usually, you’d try to deny it. Something about your ‘gruff reputation’ or whatever.”

To your surprise, Logan didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, a small, genuine smile played on his lips as he glanced at the onesie in your hand. “Doesn’t bother me, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Maybe I need to be soft for my girls.”

The simple words hit you like a wave, stirring something deep in your chest. My girls. The way he said it—so natural, so full of love—brought tears to your eyes before you could stop them. You quickly blinked, but Logan wasn’t one to miss much.

“Hey,” he said softly, tilting his head to look up at you, concern flickering in his hazel eyes as his arms tightened slightly around your waist. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill as a soft laugh escaped you. “Nothing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… hearing you say that.”

“Say what?” he pressed gently, his rough fingers brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

“‘My girls,’” you repeated, the words catching in your throat. “It just… it feels right. I don’t know, Logan. I didn’t think I could feel this happy again. Not after—” You paused, swallowing hard as the weight of everything you’d been through together settled between you.

Logan’s expression softened, and he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly against your skin. “You deserve to be happy, sweetheart,” he gently said. “We both do. And this… all of this? Feels right to me too.”

You leaned into his touch, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, your hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I love you,” you whispered, the words carrying every ounce of gratitude and affection you felt for him.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I love you too,” he said, his voice rough but tender.

You both stood there for a moment, wrapped up in each other and the quiet joy of the life you were building together. Nearby, Laura stirred in her bassinet, letting out a tiny, contented coo that made you both glance her way.

Logan chuckled softly, his hand moving to rest over yours on his chest. “Looks like someone’s tryin’ to remind us who’s really in charge around here,” he joked, his tone warm.

You laughed, wiping the last of your tears as you turned to look at Laura. “She’s already got you wrapped around her tiny little finger, doesn’t she?”

“Not just me,” Logan countered, raising a brow. “You’re just as bad.”

“Fair,” you admitted, leaning your head against his shoulder as you gazed at her. “But if being soft means loving her and you with my whole heart, I guess I’m okay with that.”

Laura’s soft cries broke the cozy quiet of the room, causing both you and Logan to freeze mid-conversation. Her tiny whimpers filled the space, and you immediately started to move, but so did Logan.

“I’ll get her,” Logan said gruffly, already reaching toward the bassinet.

“No way!” you countered, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. “It’s my turn. You’ve been hogging her all day, Logan.”

“Hoggin’ her?” Logan repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in mock indignation. The corner of his mouth tugged into that familiar smirk, the one that told you he was about to start trouble. “Darlin’, I’m just better at keepin’ her calm. You know it.”

Your jaw dropped as you swatted his arm. “Excuse me? She literally fell asleep on me last night—not you, Mr. ‘Magic Touch.’”

Logan chuckled, a warm, low sound that sent a shiver down your spine even as you glared at him. “I’m just sayin’, sweetheart,” he teased, crossing his arms casually, “She knows who her favorite is.”

“Oh, please,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at him as Laura’s cries softened into tiny whimpers, her big, round eyes blinking up at the two of you. She lay there, her little fists flailing as if she were judging the both of you for taking too long.

Logan knelt first, his large hands moving instinctively as he reached to scoop her up. “There, sweetie,” he murmured, his voice dipping into that rare softness he reserved for the two of you. Laura stopped whimpering almost instantly, her tiny hand gripping his finger like it was the only thing keeping her from crying.

You couldn’t help but feel your chest tighten at the sight. He looked so at ease with her, holding her close like she was the most precious thing in the world. But you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Okay, tough guy,” you said, crossing your arms with a playful smirk. “Don’t think I didn’t notice her crying stopped the moment I got closer.”

Logan glanced up at you, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. “Is that so?” he rumbled, swaying gently as Laura let out a tiny coo. “’Cause from where I’m standin’, she looks pretty content right here.”

“Uh-huh,” you quipped, stepping closer and reaching out to take her. “Let me see my girl. You’ve had her glued to your chest for hours.”

Logan hesitated for a beat, his arms tightening ever so slightly around Laura. “Careful,” he said, his tone laced with a teasing edge. “You don’t have the ‘magic touch,’ remember?”

You rolled your eyes, gently easing Laura into your arms. “Watch and learn, Howlett,” you said, cradling her against your chest. She snuggled into you without protest, her little face scrunching up before settling into calm contentment. “See? I’ve got the magic touch and the magic cuddle.”

Logan let out a mock scoff, standing back up to his full height as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, though the faint grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Guess I’ll let you have this one.”

“You’re too kind,” you teased, swaying gently as Laura’s eyelids fluttered shut again. “But don’t think I didn’t see you hesitate.”

Logan smirked, his hazel eyes warm as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and full of affection. “I still love you.”

Your heart swelled as Laura nuzzled closer against you, her tiny hand gripping the fabric of your shirt. Logan’s hand came to rest at the small of your back, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles.

“I think we’re doin’ alright at this parenting thing,” he murmured, his forehead resting against the side of your head.

“Yeah,” you whispered, looking down at the peaceful bundle in your arms. “We’ve got this, Logan.”

Logan let out a soft chuckle, his eyes fixed on you and Laura with a tender expression. “Damn right we do,” he agreed.

 𓂃

Later that night, the two of you sat on the floor of your bedroom, surrounded by scattered pieces of what was supposed to be a crib. The instruction manual lay open between you, creased and smudged, as though it had endured as much frustration as the two of you.

“I’m telling you, this piece goes here,” you said, holding up one of the wooden slats with the confidence of someone who had been wrong twice already.

Logan scoffed, squinting at the manual like it was written in another language. “Darlin’, that ain’t even close to the right piece. Look at the damn diagram.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Logan, I know how to read a diagram. You’re the one who started screwing things in backward.”

“That was one time,” he grumbled, reaching for the screwdriver as if it might magically fix his earlier mistake.

“One time too many,” you shot back, smirking as you handed him the correct piece. “Face it—you’re not as handy as you think you are.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, and he shot you a mock glare, his lips twitching with the faintest hint of a smile. “Keep talkin’, sweetheart. We’ll see who’s laughin’ when this crib doesn’t collapse under her.” He paused, muttering under his breath. “Should’ve just built one from scratch with my own hands.”

“Oh sure,” you quipped, biting back a laugh as you imagined it. “Laura might be in college by the time you finish it.”

Logan shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose like he was trying to keep from laughing. But the small smirk tugging at his lips gave him away. “Real funny. Keep it up, and I’ll make you do the next one solo.”

“Next one?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s survive this one first.”

Finally, after an hour and a half of bickering, laughter, and a few colorful mutterings from Logan, the crib stood fully assembled. The two of you stepped back to admire it, a mix of pride and relief washing over you.

Logan slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. You leaned your head against his chest, smiling at the crib. “We did it,” you murmured softly, pride tinging your voice.

“Damn right we did,” Logan replied, his voice warm and a little smug. “Told ya I could build it.”

You tilted your head up at him, smirking. “Sure, tough guy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Before Logan could fire back with another quip, Laura let out a soft whimper from the makeshift bassinet you’d borrowed from Jean. Logan immediately moved to scoop her up, cradling her against his chest. She blinked at him, her little face scrunching for a moment, and then… she smiled.

Your breath hitched. “Did she just—”

Logan’s eyes softened as he stared down at her, his tough exterior cracking completely. “Yeah… she did,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent.

You stepped closer, wrapping your arm around Logan as you both gazed at Laura. Her tiny hand reached out, her fingers brushing against yours. “She likes the crib,” you whispered with a laugh, tears prickling in your eyes.

“Or maybe she’s just glad we stopped fightin’ over it,” Logan said, his tone teasing but his smile tender.

You leaned into him, your heart swelling with love for the little family you were building. “Either way,” you said softly, “this is perfect.”

Logan kissed the top of Laura’s head and then yours, his voice low and steady. “Yeah… it is.”

𓂃

“Mrs. Howlett!” one of your students practically yelled, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the classroom. You paused mid-sentence, marker hovering over the whiteboard, and turned around, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, Sarah?” you asked, fighting the urge to smile as Laura, strapped to your chest in a carrier, let out a tiny coo. Her big, curious eyes darted over the room full of students, clearly more interested in them than the lesson you were trying to teach.

“Do you have to keep teaching? Me and Jamie really want to hold Laura. Pleeeease?” Sarah begged, her hands clasped together in an exaggerated show of desperation. She even threw in puppy-dog eyes for good measure, which made you chuckle.

You’d warned Logan about this—the students were bound to be curious, not just about Laura, but about everything. Your sudden shift to "Mrs. Howlett" in the past year had set the rumor mill spinning since you’d decided to stop using your maiden name finally. Now, with a baby in tow, their curiosity had skyrocketed. You didn’t mind it, though. You loved bringing Laura to class, and even more, you loved the way your students doted on her.

Still, you sighed playfully, adjusting the baby carrier as Laura babbled softly. “Sarah, for the last time, you can’t just skip lessons to play with Laura.”

Sarah pouted. “But she’s so cute! How are we supposed to concentrate when there’s a literal baby here?”

“How about this,” you said, gesturing toward the question box sitting precariously on your desk, already overflowing with tiny pieces of paper. “You put all your burning questions in the box. At the end of class, I’ll pick four to answer.”

“Mrs. Howlett!” groaned Fiona, a redheaded girl who always managed to speak her mind. “No offense, but you barely ever answer the good ones. Last time, you skipped like ten!”

You bit back a laugh, pretending to be affronted. “I answer plenty! Sometimes your questions are…well, very personal.” You gave a mock glare at the question box, knowing full well there were probably a dozen slips in there asking about your marriage to Logan. Or his claws. Or why he rarely smiled in photos.

Laura let out another soft coo, her tiny hands reaching for nothing in particular. You glanced down at her and smiled. “What do you think, Laura? Should we humor them?”

As if on cue, Laura smiled, her little nose scrunching up in a way that melted your heart. The class collectively “aww’d,” which made you laugh.

“Alright, fine!” you relented, walking to the front of your desk and leaning against it. “Just this once, I’ll answer some questions. But let’s make it quick, okay?”

Hands shot up across the room like fireworks. You scanned the sea of excited faces and pointed to Sarah, whose arm flailed the hardest. ���Alright, Sarah. What’s your question?”

Sarah’s face lit up as she glanced between you and Laura. “So…where did Laura come from? I mean, I didn’t see you pregnant or anything.”

The room fell quiet, everyone leaning in, clearly hanging on your answer. You smiled softly, glancing down at Laura before meeting their curious gazes. “Well, Mr. Howlett and I…adopted her. She needed a home, much like some of you did when you first came to the mansion.”

The room was still for a beat, the weight of your words sinking in, until a voice in the back muttered, “Man, I wish you two had adopted me.”

That sent the whole class into laughter, including you. “Oh, trust me,” you said, grinning as you adjusted Laura in her carrier. “Taking care of Mr. Howlett and Laura is already a full-time job.”

“Do you call him ‘Mr. Howlett’ at home?” someone else chimed in, causing a wave of giggles to ripple through the room.

“Absolutely not,” you said with mock horror. “I call him Logan. Or ‘tough guy.’ Or, if he’s being grumpy, ‘big softy.’”

“Grumpy?” Fiona raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Yeah, that checks out.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, laughing as the teasing spiraled. “One more question, and then it’s back to the lesson.”

Another hand shot up, and this time it was Jamie. “Does Mr. Howlett ever hold Laura? Like, is he actually good with babies?”

You couldn’t help but grin at that. “Oh, he’s amazing with her. You should see him—he sings to her, reads her little books…” You trailed off, your heart swelling as you thought about Logan cradling Laura so carefully in his massive arms, his rough hands handling her with a tenderness that never failed to take your breath away.

“Whoa,” Jamie said, clearly stunned. “Mr. Howlett? Singing? That’s…hard to imagine.”

“It’s true!” you said with a laugh. “But don’t tell him I told you. He likes to keep up his ‘tough guy’ image.”

The class dissolved into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for their lightheartedness. For a moment, the weight of everything you and Logan had been through felt a little lighter.

“Alright, enough questions,” you said, clapping your hands. “Let’s get back to—”

Before you could finish, the door to the classroom creaked open, and there stood Logan, his towering frame taking up the doorway, an eyebrow raised as he looked around. Laura perked up immediately, letting out an excited babble.

“Doesn’t sound like anyone is learning in here. All I heard was laughter echoing down the hall,” Logan said in his usual gruff tone, his voice cutting through the chatter as he leaned against the doorframe. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away, softening the impact of his words.

“She’s teaching us about Laura!” Sarah defended immediately, her hands thrown in the air like she’d been caught red-handed.

Logan raised a skeptical brow, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he stepped into the classroom. “Yeah? Sounds more like you’re all just nosy.”

The room erupted in laughter, a mix of guilty chuckles and unapologetic grins. Logan made his way to you, his hand finding its way to the small of your back. Laura let out an excited coo from her carrier, tiny hands reaching in the direction of Logan’s voice.

“Alright, which one of you’s been askin’ all the embarrassing questions?” he asked, his gravelly voice layered with mock annoyance, though his hazel eyes gleamed with amusement.

Fiona immediately pointed to Sarah, who gasped in betrayal. “Hey! Everyone’s been asking questions!”

“It’s true,” you admitted with a smirk, leaning slightly into Logan’s side. “You walked in just in time for the chaos.”

“Chaos?” Logan repeated, his lips quirking into a grin as he glanced down at you. “Darlin’ sounds like you’ve lost control of your classroom.”

You nudged him with your elbow, grinning. “I wouldn’t say that. I just know when to pick my battles.”

“She means she gave up,” Sarah chimed in, earning another round of laughter from the class.

Logan snorted, shaking his head. “Sounds about right.” He looked down at Laura, still squirming in her carrier, her little hands stretching toward him. “Alright, kid, what’s all this fuss about?”

“She likes you better,” Fiona blurted out, earning a chorus of agreement from her classmates.

You rolled your eyes, unbuckling the carrier and gently lifting Laura out. “Don’t inflate his ego anymore, guys. It’s already big enough.”

Logan raised a brow, his hands automatically reaching for Laura as you passed her over. She settled into his arms instantly, letting out a contented little sigh that made the entire class melt into a collective “aww.”

“She’s got good taste,” Logan said with a smirk, adjusting her in his arms like a pro. “She knows who the favorite parent is.”

You gasped in mock outrage, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’m the one who feeds her and rocks her to sleep at 3 a.m., mister.”

“And I’m the one who changes her diapers,” Logan countered, earning a groan from the students.

“Too much information!” Jamie called from the back, covering his ears dramatically.

Logan chuckled, his rough voice softening as he glanced down at Laura. “Fine, fine. What other questions do you kids have? Let’s get this over with.”

The room practically vibrated with excitement as hands shot into the air. You stifled a laugh, folding your arms as you watched Logan dive into the chaos he claimed to avoid.

“Okay, you,” he said, pointing to Sarah with his free hand. “What’s your question?”

Sarah hesitated for a moment, clearly giddy about being chosen. “Um… is it true you guys are married? Like, actually married?”

Logan raised a brow, glancing over at you. “You wanna take this one, sweetheart?”

You grinned, stepping closer to him. “Yes, Sarah. We’re actually married. It’s not a rumor.”

“Is it weird being married to Mr. Howlett?” Jamie chimed in, clearly emboldened by Sarah’s question.

“Not weird,” you replied with a teasing smile. “But it’s definitely… an adventure.”

“An adventure?” Logan repeated, mock-offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged playfully. “Oh, you know… trying to figure out how to live with someone who’s so grumpy all the time.”

The class erupted into laughter, and Logan shook his head, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well, try livin’ with someone who steals all the covers.”

“Oh my God, Mrs. Howlett, you do that?!” Fiona gasped, clearly scandalized.

“Allegedly,” you said with a laugh. “Next question!”

“Does Laura have powers?” Jamie asked, his tone more curious this time.

Logan glanced down at Laura, his expression softening. “She’s a little young to tell, but… yeah, she’s got somethin’ special.” He looked at you for permission before continuing. “She’s got a gift for healing. Helps with small cuts and bruises, but it’s not somethin’ she controls yet.”

The students murmured among themselves, clearly intrigued.

“So… she’s like a mini-Wolverine?” Jamie asked, grinning.

“More like a mini-angel,” you corrected, smiling as Logan gave you a knowing look.

“Alright, kids,” Logan said, shifting Laura in his arms. “That’s enough questions for today. Let your teacher get back to whatever it was she was supposed to be teachin’.”

The students groaned in protest, but you clapped your hands. “You heard him! Back to work. Logan, you wanna stick around and help teach?”

Logan smirked, already heading for the door with Laura nestled against his chest. “Nah, I’ll leave the teachin’ to you, darlin’. I got my hands full.”

With that, he was gone, leaving you with a classroom full of students buzzing with excitement��and your own heart full of warmth.

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭: 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐈

Pairing: demon!chan x fem!reader x demon!hyunjin Genre: SMUT NOTHING BUT IT aside from the tiny bit of plot Word count: 6.2k Warnings: Insomnia, lucid dreaming, demon!skz, sleep paralysis, possessive chan, jealous channie, jealous hyunjinnie, sin of pride Chan, sin of lust hyunjin, mentions of angel felix, aphrodisiacs kinda, overstimulation, dacryphilia, p in v, oral fem receiving, fingering, unprotected sex USE PROTECTION. Minho is very "scary", Changbin and Jeongin mentioned at the end >.> hyunjin is kind of a dick, i think that's all??

A/N: >.> I kinda went a little crazy... I hope y'all like it

Virtues forgotten dance in the mind. They linger on sleepless nights, bathing the purest rooms in red light as if it were iron to rust. Of humility and purity, in the lord we trust.

You stared around your room, putting down your phone and looking at your bedside clock. 2:47 AM it read. You weren't getting sleep tonight. Again.

You sighed and rolled over, pulling the blankets up over your head, shut the world out and sleep. Sleep did claim you after about ten minutes but it was a restless slumber, one that wouldn't do much to help you in the morning. It was a miracle you hadn't been laid off from work yet, always sleeping, always late, your work always looking like you didn't try.

You opened your eyes and looked around, you were no longer in your room, but a dark hallway, you walked down it staring at the walls. Who in their right mind put wood flooring for walls? Bright light was on your left and you shielded your eyes. What kind of moron puts lights in the w-

You stumbled cutting off your train of thought. You'd bumped your toe on something, your winced and rubbed your toe, looking back for what you hit.. a doorknob.

You stood, looking down. The person who built this place wasn't crazy, you were walking on walls like a spider almost.

You started walking again and then you heard a crackling surge of electricity before the light beside you burst. You shrieked in fear and jumped looking back as all the lights behind you shattered.

And then you saw it.

You saw them.

A pair of bright green eyes stared at you in the darkness.

You held your breath and stayed still. Maybe it couldn't see you.

Whatever had those eyes lunged for you. Quickly slimming the distance between you and it. You took off running the other way, as it grew closer and closer, light after light shattering before you could make out what it was.

You stepped on a door that was ajar and fell into the room, screaming as it dove in after you, the lights exploding, plunging you into darkness the only light its green eyes locked on you, growing closer and closer.

Hands wrapped around your throat as it finally closed the distance between you and you clawed at it in defense of yourself. Your nails throbbed in pain as they snagged on something and you tried to cry out.

As your vision blurred you saw a burst of light and the thing fell off you, you scrambled away and stepped out an open window in the darkness. Waking up with a scream.

You looked at your clock. it read 4:01 AM.

"You look rough." Your friend, Jaehwa said in the breakroom at work that day. "How many cups of coffee have you had?"

You racked your brain for a moment. "7-"

"That's enough." Soojin, your other friend took the cup from you. "Y/n. How long are you going to keep living like this?"

"Like what?" You look at your friends.

Jaehwa sighed. "Like you're being haunted by something."

You made a face.

"Maybe you should take a break," Soojin suggested. "Go out for drinks? Catch a movie? Stay home and sleep?"

You nodded. "I'll ask for time off next week I guess."

"You really need it." Jaehwa said, shaking his head.

"I'm going off next week so you might not be able to." A woman said behind you, stirring her coffee, "Someone's gotta write the story."

You returned to your desk, practically green with envy, and got back to work on your current article for the paper. But your fingers flying swiftly across your keyboard came to a halt. Your thought fogged. You felt like something was staring at you.

You felt vulnerable... Your breath picked up the pace and your eyes darted around for a moment. Then you saw it in the corner of your vision... A man with short, dark hair and piercing green eyes looking at you.

You almost shrieked.

Almost.

Instead, you sighed and threw paper over the divider between your cubicle and your other friend, Jake's.

"What was that for?!" he grumbled.

"Nothing." You shrugged feeling a bit safer now that there was someone else looking at you.

"You know.." The woman to your right leaned over and whispered very loudly. "If you're so scared.."

She could tell...?

"Write an article about the paranormal.." She nodded, fixing her big framed glasses and moving back to her cubicle.

You didn't say anything for a long moment. "Yeah maybe."

You got immersed in reading some interview record about a singer's affair and possible divorce when a paper ball smacked the back of your head, and you were pulled from the website you were reading on.

"Working yourself tired isn't any more healthy than overdosing on caffeine." Soojin grabbed you. "We're going for drinks, come with us."

"Like that's any more healthy." You rolled your eyes but let her drag you out.

In Jaehwa's car, another coworker, Joohyeong was singing loudly to the radio with Soojin.

"AH!" Jaehwa finally snapped and turned off the radio.

"Hey!" Joohyeong huffed.

"Turn it back on." Soojin reached to the front to turn it on and Jaehwa smacked hr and Joohyeong's hands away, only semi-paying attention to the road.

"Jae-" You started, as he came to an intersection.

"Lemme listen to the damn radio!" Joohyeong snapped.

"I will not listen to your horrendous voice." Jaehwa said.

The light at the intersection turned red.

"You're no fun!" Soojin grumbled as she reached from the back over the console for the radio.

The blare of a horn and the glaring light to your left made you scream. "Jaehwa!"

He whipped his head around and just as you thought you were dead the other car screeched to a halt, bumping the car.

You stared in shock for a moment...

"It's a miracle." Soojin breathed as the other driver reversed.

Jaehwa sighed. "Food?"

You opened your mouth to speak.

"Enjoy life now, worry about insurance later." He continued again and you relaxed into your seat.

You got to a small pizza place and looked around as Jaehwa ordered then sat to call his insurance company about the small dent in his car door. You closed your eyes for a brief moment trying to catch up on your thoughts, the blank darkness didn't last long. You saw a hallway a man sat in a chair, surrounded by red yarn. Like a spiderweb.

You stared at him for a moment and he tilted his head before pointing behind you. You turned and gasped as a man with light brown hair and furious red eyes raised a power drill and stared at you.

You took off running to the man in the string chamber down the hall but the man behind you was faster pouncing on you as you screamed. You hissed in pain as you landed awkwardly on your wrist. He turned you over and aimed to drive the revving power drill through your eye.

"Minho.." A sleepy voice said.

The man on top of you looked over his shoulder and you shoved him and sprinted. You crashed through the string and someone grabbed you and slammed you against the wall with such force it broke and you fell into darkness.

You opened your eyes with a gasp and grabbed your wrist, there was a dull aching there, Jaehwa, Joohyeong, and Soojin stared at you. You got up before any of them could speak and ran out of the restaurant, sprinting down the street and bumping into a very shady-looking man.

"Woah there." He grabbed your shoulders. "Calm down."

You tried to pull away. "I'm sorry-"

"I'm serious calm down, what's wrong?" He squeezed you a bit tighter and you tensed.

"Please let go of me." You tried to pull away.

"Where are you headed? Maybe I can take you there?"

"Please just let go." You pulled free and shoved him, backing up.

His eyes narrowed. "This is what I get for trying to help a senseless bitch." He grabbed for you and you put your arms up in defense of yourself. He gripped your face roughly almost choking you. "Stop being such a crybaby."

"Don't touch me!" You thrashed and tried to get away but he dragged you.

"You think you're so special, eh?!" He raised a hand to hit you.

You braced yourself for a blow... that.. never came. You opened your eyes and saw a man with dark hair and piercing eyes. A glint of violet in them making your heart race. The dark-haired man held your assailant's wrist.

"What?" Your attack fired at the man. "This your whore?" He shook your shoulder roughly.

"Release her." The man said.

"If I don't? You'll hit me, pretty boy?!"

The man tilted his head slightly. "You're quite cocky... Good for me."

Your eyes widened as his grip on the other man's wrist visibly tightened until you heard cracking. Your assailant screamed and crumbled to his knees.

"You litt-" he started.

"You don't fear death... do you?" The dark-haired man leaned down.

Your attacker's eyes widened and then he screamed in terror.

You stumbled back, looking between your attacker and the man.

The man finally released the writhing criminal and looked up, eyes meeting yours.

You held your breath for a brief second before you took off running.

By the time you got to bed, you were exhausted. Every muscle in your body ached and your head pounded. The moment you were situated your eyes drifted shut quickly. You opened them to a long dark hallway, the few lights that illuminated it were red. Your eyes widened slightly as you realized you weren't walking on the walls.

As you walked you noticed how quiet the place was, you could hear your own feet padding softly on the wood floor. You peeked into a room, seeing nothing but pitch black, then a blaring white light came on, a chandelier of circular lights and with strange images on the walls, you walked in and looked around the room for a moment before the lights in the hallway burst. You froze, staring at the door like a deer in headlights. And there he stood. The man who'd saved you earlier, albeit a bit different.

His hair was straighter a soft gingery color, and he wore all white. You could've said it wasn't him but there was the unmistakable glint of violet in his eye.

He tilted his head, staring at you. "You shouldn't be here."

You held your breath for a moment.

"You did a lot of screaming earlier. It's a little too quiet now don't you think?" He stepped into the room, his muscles flexed as he dragged the chains in after him, and the door slammed shut. "Well, aren't you going to thank your savior?"

"Savior..." You stared up at him. "What even are you, where am I-"

He reached out and hesitated. "Seungmin and Minho said the angel lingers around you.." he leaned in close, breath against your ear. "Where is he?"

"I don't know who you're talking about." You backed up, tensing as you felt a wall behind you.

"Godforsaken cun-" He looked back at you, stopping himself. "You haven't seen him yet?"

"I don't even know who you're talking about." You started rambling. "I swear I've never seen any angel or anything. I don't even know how I'm here or why. I-" You shrieked as his hand slammed against the wall beside your head.

"Answer the question you're asked." he said, eyes narrowing.

"No... I haven't seen him." You swallowed.

"Good." He grabbed your face gently, thumb rubbing over something.

You made a face.

"That man left a bruise.." he muttered.

"Oh- I-"

He rubbed the mark gently and smiled. "All gone."

You pulled away and cupped the side of your face, rubbing your jaw slightly. "Thank you..."

He raised a brow, smiling gently at you.

"For saving me." You shrank slightly under his gaze. Fear. You should feel fear. You should cower at whatever this man was but no, as he leaned closer your heart raced not out of utter terror. But something else..

His lips met yours gently. You stiffened for a brief moment before relaxing as his hand moved to cup your face, before his fingers entangled in your hair and he forced your body impossibly closer, tongue prodding for entry to your mouth and you granted him it. His full being shrouding your mind in dark clouds as he fogged your senses. His lips broke away from yours and kissed your jaw gently before you felt something sharp rake across your neck.

Your eyes widened but he sank his fangs in. You gasped. Was he a blood sucker? A vampire? EW!

He pulled away slowly and you grabbed your neck the area throbbed.

"What did you-" You started.

"Before anything else." His voice was in your head and you stared in fear. "You are mine."

You woke with a gasp and grabbed your neck. The area throbbing. You turned on your lamp and looked at yourself in the mirror, eyes going wide at the sight of a cross seated on a bruise on your neck.

You tried hiding the mark on your neck the following day with makeup. After you were positive it was hidden you went to work, only to be greeted by a "Y/N GOT A TATTOO!?"

You cringed. "Yeah..." What the fuck... I covered it. I know I covered it.

"She must've gone to the liquor store without us." Joohyeong sighed. "Got drunk and made a mistake."

"Yeah." You lied through your teeth as you sat.

"You know..." The woman in the cubicle beside you said, "It's not a bad look..."

You looked at her. "Thanks." You smiled tightly and turned to your work.

After an hour of diligent work, you went to the break room. You got hot water in a mug, about to make yourself a cup of instant coffee when you remembered what Soojin said and you made grabs for the tea instead.

As you opened the cabinet, a bit roughly, you reached in for the tea bag and the cabinet door swung back to your hand you were about to pull back to try and rescue your hand from the impending blow but the door stopped.

You stared at it for a moment, poking it. The door swung back gently. Your brows furrowed and you got the tea and turned to the mug, you opened the tea bag and set it into the water. When you moved to grab the cup, your hand bumped the counter and you retracted it in pain just as the scalding hot tea splashed onto the counter.

You blinked slowly then the memory hit you like a freight train. "Seungmin and Minho said the angel lingers around you.."

"Talk about a guardian angel." You hummed and cleaned up, grabbing the now much cooler mug and going to your desk.

Hyunjin made a face. Here I am protecting you and you compare me to that angel bastard...

You went home and stared at the mirror. The mark on your neck was very noticeable even if you covered it in makeup it seemed to resurface on your skin. You got in bed and stared at the ceiling. What if you ended up there again... Your eyes drifted shut after a while and for the first time in a long time, you dreamed a good dream. You were lying in a flower field, butterflies fluttering around under the sun as birds sang.

You turned and smiled at a blonde haired man next to you, his innocent smile filling you with such warmth as his lips moved. But you couldn't hear him. You looked back at the sky and reached your hand up.

The man beside you grabbed you gently, brows furrowing as he stared at you... at your neck and his eyes flicked up and met yours. He reached and pressed his hand to it pulling away with a pained expression.

Then you fell through the ground and everything became loud. You fell through the darkness grabbing for something, anything. Why weren't you waking up, usually you woke up, what was wrong?! You did grab something, you stared at the man. The one who'd marked you.

"You-" You started but he pulled you up with such force you stumbled as you landed, falling into his chest.

"Didn't I tell you you're mine?" He looked down at you.

You pulled back and pointed a finger at him. "I don't even know you! I don't know what you did to me but undo it!"

He blinked and raised a brow. "Did the angel give you the mouth to speak to me like that?"

"What angel!?" You shouted.

He grabbed you and pulled a flower from your hair. "You saw him."

You opened your mouth then closed it. "Who? Who are you? What is this!?"

He sighed and sat at a big desk, staring at you from his leather chair. "Come here."

You stayed where you were.

"I said 'Come here.'" He said lowly.

You walked to him. "What the fuck-" You hadn't wanted to move.

He hummed softly and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. "I wouldn't get too angry, you might wake Minho." He rubbed your thigh and gave it a soft squeeze.

"That doesn't tell me who you are." You stared at him.

"My name is Chan. I am as kind as you will ever get here." He said, moving a finger and opening a book on the desk "You're a very proud woman. Easily scared but proud."

You stared at him. "What are you?"

"Now you're asking the right questions." He smiled at you, squeezing your side gently. "I am the oldest of 8 brothers, Chan, sin of pride. At your service."

You blinked slowly. "I'm dreaming."

"Are you?" A soft voice said in your ear.

You jumped and Chan held you tighter.

"Hyunjin." he turned to the long haired man. "Don't scare her."

Hyunjin stared at you. "I'll do more than that." He smirked and turned to Chan's shelf. "She looks cute scared."

"Excuse me?!" You huffed loudly.

"Chan you see she's bound to get killed." Hyunjin hummed. "Let me have her."

Chan had a blank expression. "Who's going to kill her?"

"Minho is going to find her with how often she's showing us her rage. Just imagine how he'd tear her to pieces or feed her to the dogs."

"Hyunjin!" Chan shouted.

You stiffened slightly in fear, a man stood at the door. The man who had the power drill, whose eyes were an enraged red color.

"Minho." Chan said, looking at him.

You held your breath for a moment. The moment didn't last long as a trident spiraled straight at Hyunjin who shrieked as you covered your eyes, telling yourself it was a dream.

It's all a dream.

You woke up with a start, eyes flicking around in fear.

Sleep didn't come to you much after that. It wasn't that you ever fell asleep, you were too scared. At a company dinner later that week you met Juwon, he was very nice and seemed to understand your sleep problems.

"I know it's really unconventional, but have you tried running around your house? It's very tiring."

You giggled. "No, I haven't, I'll think about it though."

Juwon invited you out for drinks and he was a bit cute, but somewhere between getting shit-faced and falling asleep, you ended up in his bed. Of course, you got knocked out right after but the feeling of being well rested despite the soreness between your legs the next morning put a pep in your step the next day. Friday. Finally...

"That wasn't very nice of you." A voice whispered into your ear as you sipped your coffee in the break room.

You jumped, turning to see none other than Hyunjin, poking at the coffee machine. "How are you-"

"Shh." he smiled, "They might think you're crazy."

You pursed your lips as he leaned in close.

"I didn't think Chan's little human was such a slut." He said lowly.

Your brows furrowed. "You aren't real-"

Hyunjin rested his hands on either side of the counter, caging you in. "I'm very real, pretty." He said, pink eyes seeming to glow.

"How-"

Hyunjin kissed you. Your eyes widened and he pulled away. "It's not fair that he claimed you first... You summoned me." Hyunjin muttered.

You stared at him. What did he mean you summoned him?

Hyunjin grabbed your waist and lifted you onto the counter. "What I'd do.. If I had you..." Hyunjin muttered. Your eyes met and he smiled gently, "I'd worship you.." His hand moved between your legs.

There was something about his eyes that wouldn't let you look away. Something about his beautiful rose-colored eyes. It had you in an anaconda's grip. Your hand flew to cover your mouth as you moaned, Hyunjin was rubbing gently at your clit. When had he gotten your pants off... How had you let him...

"I want to hear you, y/n.." he muttered, lifting his finger to examine it before slipping it back into you.

You moaned and almost hit your head on the cabinet, Hyunjin grabbed you and pulled you to him. You held onto his shoulders tightly, whimpering and gasping as his finger moved in and out of you quickly before he added a second and a third.

He pulled back and kissed you hard, tongue dancing with yours as his taste filled your mouth. He curled his fingers against your g-spot and you moaned into his mouth.

You felt the knot in your gut tightening, dangerously close to breaking. You moaned louder, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

"Cum for me.." he breathed against your lips.

You came, hard, it was an earth shattering orgasm the made your head go blank for a moment. He pulled away with a satisfied smirk and you whimpered, legs weak, trying to hold yourself up against the counter. You looked up and Hyunjin was gone.

But as you collected yourself and left the break room a voice in your head told you, "You've already sold your soul."

You fell asleep the moment you hit your bed that night, this was exhausting, trying to stay up purely out of the fear that you might not see Chan or Hyunjin but one of the other monsters haunting your dreams was becoming unbearable. You looked at your phone, 10:46 PM. You set it down and tried to sleep, expecting to barely get any, as usual. Then you felt it. The room felt warmer somehow.

You opened your eyes to a room bathed in a soft yellow glow, you looked around for a moment. A small fireplace on one wall and a desk to the left. You turned around and saw a plush bed, you walked over to it, fingertips gently grazing the soft sheets.

"You had fun today.." Chan muttered in your ear.

You jumped in fear. "Don't do that!"

"Says the person in my room without my permission." he huffed. You noticed then, his chest was partially exposed, more than half the buttons undone.

"You act like I chose to appear here." You rolled your eyes.

"The same way you chose to sleep with that human," he said, expression blank.

You didn't speak for a moment. "I was drunk.." You wondered why he hadn't mentioned anything about what Hyunjin had done.

"You're worse than Changbin.." He muttered under his breath.

"How prideful are you really if it bothers you? You must feel threatened." You shot before you could stop yourself.

Chan turned slowly, staring at you. "Repeat that?"

You didn't.

Chan walked towards you, gaze fixated on yours as you stumbled, the backs of your knees hitting the bed lightly. You fell back onto the plush bedding and Chan stared at you, pupils dilating as he took you in.

"He made you feel good?" He raised a brow.

You blinked. "I-"

"Answer." He leaned down.

"Yes.." You breathed.

Chan bit his lip and sighed deeply. "What did I tell you..."

"I belong to you." Your heart was racing, curse this demon with his beautiful face.

"Are you proud of yourself?" He traced a line down your pajama clad body and stopped at your hip.

You didn't know how to answer that.

He tilted his head, "Cat got your tongue?"

You swallowed.

"Move up." He said.

You did as you were told and scurried up the bed, staring at Chan as he climbed onto the bed, it dipped with his weight as he grew closer to you. "Chan-" You started but he pounced on you, pinning you beneath his weight.

"Did I say you could talk?"

Your stomach flipped. "No.."

He groaned and kissed you, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth tasting you. You whimpered into the kiss and grabbed the wrist of the hand he had on your face. His tongue clashed with you and you relaxed, yielding to him.

He pulled away, eyes wide for a moment as if mesmerized before he moved down and dragged your pants and panties off your legs. "He touched you here?"

You stiffened as his finger brushed over your clit, he stared at your womanhood, eyes unmoving. You thought he had no reaction, nothing to say at all to you until your gaze drifted to his crotch and you saw the impressive tent in his pants. A dull ache thrummed between your thighs and you looked up, squeaking slightly at the sight of a smirk on his face.

"You like what you see?" He teased.

"You-"

His finger found your clit again and you moaned. "Who do you belong to?"

"You.." You whined.

"Good girl." He dragged his middle finger over your folds collecting your slick. He stared at it for a brief moment before slipping his finger into you.

You gasped, bucking up slightly.

He let out a breath before his thumb joined the slow drag of his finger.

"Chan!" You whined, trying to move your hips for a faster pace.

"No, no." He tutted, holding you down by the hip and plunging his finger into you only a bit faster.

You squirmed, shuffling your hips a bit to take more of his finger into you. "Please!"

"Please what?" Chan tilted his head, that smirk on his face getting to your head.

"Fuck me.." You relented softly.

"What was that?" Chan hummed, finger still dipping into you with languid thrusts.

"F-fuck me!" You said louder this time, eyes pleading.

"Oh... Poor girl..." Chan reached his other hand to caress your face, it was a gentle action as if that same hand hadn't left bruises on your hip from how tightly he held you.

"Please.." You begged.

Chan let his head fall back before rolling it back to look at you. "How could I refuse you.." He rasped before drawing out his finger and shoving in a second.

You wailed and bucked, he smirked as his thumb found its way to your nub, moving over it in quick swipes and figure 8 motions over and over as his fingers fucked into you faster.

Your cries bounced off the walls and you feared for a brief moment, you'd be heard. Thighs shaking, pussy walls fluttering, you could feel the coil tightening in your abdomen. Your moans and pleas grow in pitch at your impending orgasm.

And then he pulled away.

"WHY!?" You sobbed.

"Don't worry about the others," Chan muttered, staring at the slick on his fingers. "They'll get their turn." He licked his fingers, tasting you and moaning softly before pressing them to your lips.

Your cheeks went redder if that was possible.

"Open." He ordered.

You did and he pressed his fingers to your tongue. "Suck."

You got wetter as you followed his command, your disrupted orgasm building again when he wasn't even touching you.

He smiled and shrugged off his shirt before lifting your legs. You gasped as he dragged you partially onto his lap, your heat level with his plump lips. "Did that human bastard touch you like this?" He breathed against your cunt.

Your walls fluttered helplessly around nothing. "No-"

Chan raised a brow.

"N-No.." You stammered.

"Has anyone?" He questioned, gaze darkening.

"No." You panted.

"Good.." His tongue slipped out giving your pussy a tentative lick before releasing a shaky breath into your heat.

Your cunt throbbed and you whimpered. Chan licked a big stripe of your pussy, tongue pressing flat against your opening and thinning to flick at your clit. You moaned and squirmed but he held your hips tightly tongue pushing between your folds as his finger rubbed at your clit. You felt the knot in your belly tightening again, you moaned louder, begging him not to stop and as if on cue. He stopped.

"Please!" You sobbed.

He pulled back after a moment staring at your womanhood slick with your essence and his saliva before gathering saliva in his mouth and spitting on your hole.

You tensed slightly at the impact, he rubbed three fingers against your pussy before sinking them into you and curling them to find your g-spot.

Your body jerked and he smiled, whispering. "Found you."

You gasped as he pulled away letting your body fall back flat against the bed, he spread his fingers every now and then stretching you.

"You like that?" He asked as he leaned over you, fingering you roughly.

You gasped and moaned, "Please please!"

"You wanna cum?" He asked, fingers losing rhythm, every few moments slowing.

"Ye, I want to cum Chan please!" You sobbed.

"Ohh. My poor baby." Chan cooed as your pussy clenched tightly around his fingers. He pulled his fingers out and slapped your pussy, not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to send a jolt of pleasure up your spine.

"Please Chan." You sniffed, tears filling your eyes.

"Fuck..." Chan pushed his fingers into you, his thumb working at your clit. "Don't cry baby." He said, resisting the shit eating grin that wanted to come to his face.

You mewled as his pace became furious and uneven, and as the pressure built in your abdomen again you begged, "Channie please, please let me cum."

Chan's eyes met yours and he leaned down, "I'm going to make you cum... This is my pussy eh?"

"Yes, yours!" You moaned.

"Doesn't matter who's in it, you'll come back to me, because you belong to me!"

You nodded, brain fogging and pussy clenching.

"Say it." He grabbed your face. "Say it!"

"Yours I'm yours!" You screamed as the band in your belly finally broke and you came hard, eyes rolling back as you let out a broken sob, Chan kept fingering you, stretching your orgasm thin. "Too much, Chan oh god!"

"Too much yet your pussy is still taking my fingers so greedily." He taunted, fingers slowing to a deep drag between your walls.

You trembled, panting and trying to collect your mind.

"That human can't make you cum like that can he?" Chan asked, pulling his fingers out of you.

You shook your head, dazed.

"Glad you know, I might just ruin you for anyone else." Chan pulled off his pants and boxers, exposing his thick length.

Your eyes widened slightly. "I-" Of course, you'd stare, no wonder he'd spent so much time prepping you, he was big. Big enough to make your pussy clench on nothing while your stomach flipped. No wonder he was the sin of pride... he has something to be proud about alright.

Chan smirked and got between your legs, taking hold of his manhood and slapping it against your sensitive clit, huffing a small laugh at the whimper you let out. "Cute.." He breathed, rubbing his length against you. Then he lined himself up and sank into you, brows furrowing.

You gripped his muscular arms, nails digging into his perfect skin as he split you open, going in deeper and deeper, slowly. The stretch was a lot, you panted and bit your lip, Chan's eyes were fixated on the way your pussy gave way to his length, his tip met your cervix and you gasped. He held himself there for a moment, letting out a breathy moan before pulling out slowly, letting out a low almost growling moan. He lammed back into you, knocking the air from your lungs.

His body pinned yours to the bed, rutting into you over and over as your moans filled the room, the bed creaking under the force of his thrusts. His lips hovered over yours, breath mingling as your eyes met, your walls clenched at the intimacy of it. Chan smirked and kissed you, tongue roaming your mouth and tasting every part of you. A grunt or groan responding to your moans and whimpers.

He pulled back and grabbed your shirt, lifting it over your breasts, to watch the way they bounced with every thrust. Your hands reached down wandering helplessly, aimlessly as you tried to get your bearings. Chan clouded your senses, completely fogging your mind, all you could think about was how his dick stretched you, the way he bruised your cervix, fucking into you mercilessly.

"Feels good baby?" He asked, grabbing your arms and pulling you into his thrusts.

You couldn't make a sentence, brain was completely turned to mush by the man- demon above you.

"Look at you..." He grunted. "All dumb on my cock."

You couldn't keep your eyes open, it was too much, you felt the pressure building again and you clenched your fists in Chan's grip.

"Fuck-" Chan grunted and you opened your eyes looking down, you moaned as he pushed in completely, gaze glued to the way your tummy bulged slightly with every thrust. His free hand roamed over your tummy before pushing down gently.

You moaned loudly and your walls clamped down in an orgasm that knocked your brain off the rails. Your fluids coating his lower abdomen and cock. You let out a choked sob as Chan kept pounding into you.

"It's too much!" You moaned.

"Take it." He growled.

Your eyes widened as he pinned your hands above your head, not letting you recover from your orgasm as his cock hit you deep. "CHAN!"

"I'm going to put a baby in you," he drawled, almost drunk. "You want me to fuck my seed into you?"

You moaned and couldn't figure out how to respond.

"I'm going to fill you with my seed, make you a mommy." He grunted.

Your pussy clenched hard, and Chan came hard inside you, pelvis meeting yours as he released rope after rope of his seed into you, letting out a stifled whimper. His climax pushed you over the edge and you spasmed, tears clouding your vision.

Chan pulled out, releasing your wrists, and stared at you laying there, pussy clenching around nothing. He adored the sight of you ruined, by him... he wanted to do it again but he restrained himself. yet as your legs trembled he stared with wide eyes at your pussy leaking his seed.

You gasped as he flipped you onto your belly and lifted your ass, pushing your shoulders down, making you arch your back. He gave your butt a sharp slap then gripped the flesh. He took his cock in his hand and collected his cum on the tip. "Don't waste my seed.." he said lowly before shoving his cock into you, hips smacking against your ass.

You moaned into the pillow, gripping the sheets as he pushed his seed deep into you. Chan groaned at the way your backside jiggled from the impact of his pelvis, eyes watching intently as your pussy swallowed his cock. He leaned forward grabbing the headboard and grunting as he fucked into you harder. You came quickly, sobbing and babbling into the pillow from overstimulation. Chan kept rutting into you, you could feel every pulse and throb of his cock before he came inside you again. Groaning as your cunt squeezed the life out of him. He fell onto your teeth latching onto your shoulder to muffle the strangled whine that escaped his throat. You lay there panting and trembling as he pulled out.

You felt the bed dip as Chan moved, getting up to go somewhere. You hadn't been expecting much from a demon. The demon of pride no less, he didn't time for a human like y-

You felt the bed dip as Chan returned, cleaning you with a damp cloth. Your heart fluttered.

He left again for a moment before coming back and hugging you to his chest. "You're mine." He muttered against your hair.

You were quiet for a long moment before you whispered, "... before anything else."

When you woke up, your heart stopped. It was still dark out. But you couldn't move a muscle. And then you saw it in the corner of your vision... a pair of bright golden eyes staring at you. Closer to your door, the shadow of a shorter muscular looking man.

"Jeongin," a gravelly voice said, "I can't believe Chan kept this all for himself."

© 2024 xxkissesforchanniexx. DO NOT COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 if your name is in blue i can't tag you very sorry Reply to this post if you want to be tagged for this series

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦

@asahisimpnation, @seolarsonlyloveisyou, @leeknowsnot @oddracha @juskz

@duinst @palindrome969 @armystay89

[aventurineswife]

So idk how to make a request. So I hope this is ok??

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNeT75Hpt/

Hear me out a fic about this Aventurine with mermaid reader , and he captures her. I’ll leave the rest to you, so you have your freedom when writing 🫶

Don’t fell pressured :)

Beneath the Waves, Beyond the Game

Summary: Aventurine, a flamboyant and cunning pirate, thrives on risk and games of chance, but his life takes an unexpected turn when he captures you—a mysterious, defiant being of the sea—after your haunting song lures his ship to wreckage. What begins as a clash of wills slowly evolves into a fragile bond, as shared vulnerabilities and unspoken understanding unravel the masks you both wear. Amid storms, trust, and bittersweet goodbyes, the game between the gambler and the mermaid changes them both in ways neither anticipated.

Tags: Pirate!Aventurine x Mermaid!Reader, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn Romance, Captivity & Freedom, Pirate/Mermaid Dynamic, Forbidden Connection, Emotional Vulnerability, Found Family Themes, Bittersweet Ending.

Warnings: Themes of Captivity and Loss of Autonomy, Emotional Manipulation (Light), Storm/Peril Scenes, Brief Mentions of Betrayal and Guilt, Melancholy/Bittersweet Tones.

A/N: Y'ALL ARE FAST AFF!! 😭😭

[Part 2]

Aventurine had always thrived on risk, gambling with lives, fortunes, and fate itself. The sea, for all its temperamental fury, had always been his ally—a rolling canvas of danger and opportunity. Yet nothing in his decades of games and gambles had prepared him for you.

You were sprawled across the floor of his private quarters, your tail shimmering with iridescent hues as seawater pooled beneath you. The moment he'd heard your song—a haunting melody that echoed through the mists and lured his ship to the wreckage of a treasure-laden galleon—he knew he couldn’t let you slip back into the ocean’s embrace.

You glared at him now, your once-melodic voice reduced to silence, replaced by a defiant scowl. Aventurine lounged in his throne-like chair, one leg crossed over the other, his flamboyant coat draped behind him like a cape.

"Do you make it a habit to lure ships to their doom, or am I just special?" he drawled, adjusting his jeweled eyepatch with deliberate flair.

You said nothing, your shimmering tail flicking once against the wooden floor, splashing droplets onto his polished boots.

He chuckled, leaning forward, the feather in his hat catching the low lamplight. "Silent treatment, is it? Fair enough. I've always enjoyed a challenge."

You clenched your fists, your lips pressed into a thin line. Your freedom was gone, and this man—this gaudy, insufferable pirate—seemed to delight in your captivity.

Weeks passed aboard the ship, and the game between you and Aventurine began in earnest.

He spoke to you daily, spinning tales of his exploits, offering you trinkets from his plunder, and even playing games of chance where the stakes were your freedom. You refused every gamble, your pride unyielding even as your curiosity grew.

In turn, you sang only when you thought he couldn’t hear—a mournful tune carried by the waves. But Aventurine always listened, his sharp mind piecing together fragments of your story.

"You sing of loss," he said one night, his voice unusually soft. He stood at the door to your makeshift prison, his silhouette framed by moonlight. "Of betrayal. You’ve felt it too, haven’t you?"

You flinched at his words but said nothing.

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You think I don’t know what it’s like to be trapped, to have your fate decided by others?" He tilted his head, his eyes glinting like twin flames. "But I broke free. And so will you—if you’re clever enough to play the game."

For the first time, you spoke. "You don’t understand the sea’s bindings, pirate. My freedom isn’t yours to give."

The slow burn of trust began with small acts. Aventurine loosened your chains, allowing you to roam the deck under guard. You, in turn, offered him warnings of treacherous waters ahead, saving his ship from disaster more than once.

"You’re not like the stories," you admitted one evening, your voice hesitant.

"Flattered," he replied, grinning. "But you’d be wise to keep your guard up. I play to win, and I always do."

"Always?" you challenged, meeting his gaze.

His grin faltered for the briefest moment, but he recovered quickly. "Luck’s been kind to me so far."

Yet you saw through his bravado. Behind the jewels and theatrics was a man haunted by choices, a survivor who carried his guilt like a hidden scar.

The breaking point came during a storm. The ship was battered by relentless waves, its crew scrambling to secure the sails. Aventurine himself took the wheel, his usual calm replaced by a rare intensity.

When a rogue wave threatened to sweep you overboard, he abandoned his post to pull you to safety, his hand gripping yours with a desperation that surprised you both.

"Don’t you dare die on me." he hissed, his voice cracking.

For the first time, you saw him without his mask—a man terrified of loss.

The aftermath of the storm left the ship battered but intact. Aventurine found you sitting on the edge of the deck, your tail dangling in the water.

"You saved me..." you said softly.

He shrugged, his usual grin forced. "Couldn’t let you take all my secrets to the deep, now could I?"

But you weren’t fooled. Slowly, you reached for his hand, your touch tentative but firm. "Thank you."

He stared at your joined hands, his guarded expression faltering. "You’re not supposed to thank me," he muttered. "I’m the villain here, remember?"

"Villains don’t bleed for their captives," you countered, your voice steady.

The ending was bittersweet.

Aventurine kept his promise, releasing you near a hidden cove where the sea glittered like liquid sapphire.

As you slipped into the water, you turned back one last time. "You’ll always be playing, won’t you?"

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "What can I say? The game’s the only thing keeping me afloat."

"Then I hope you win, pirate." you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken understanding.

And with that, you disappeared beneath the waves, leaving Aventurine standing alone on the shore, the ocean stretching endlessly before him.